Reasons I Chose You - By Kaylinn Tucker

Written By: Kaylinn Tucker

Category: Short story

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the world of creative storytelling, Kaylinn Tucker presents "Reasons I Chose You," a gripping short story submitted to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. This narrative draws readers into a haunting exploration of psychological entrapment and manipulation. Through vivid imagery and a poignant atmosphere, Kaylinn's work stands as a testament to the power of storytelling to evoke deep emotions and provoke introspection.

About the Work

"Reasons I Chose You" delves into themes of confinement and psychological manipulation, painting a chilling portrait of a protagonist trapped in a disorienting reality. The story is rich in atmospheric detail, with the protagonist's observations and internal struggles vividly brought to life. The narrative's unsettling mood is enhanced by the use of sensory imagery, leaving readers to ponder the thin line between reality and manipulation.

Reasons i chose you

Original Submission by Kaylinn Tucker

reasons I chose you

CW: confinement, psychological manipulation, food aversion

The leaves swayed gently as they fluttered to the ground in beautiful harmony. It reminded me of home. Of winters spent by the fireplace.

Burnt orange and pale green - I couldn't quite make out the colour from where I was perched at the foot of the bed, staring through the small window just above the horsehair mantel.

It was such an odd thing to observe, the colour of a leaf, as if it mattered whether it was green or brown. But when you've been locked in a room with nothing but cobwebs for entertainment, something so small becomes the best part of your day.

Like in the mornings when old cranky Mrs. Willows comes to personally deliver what I assume to be porridge, it tasted like ground dirt with a hint of something metallic. The food is shit. But those five minutes with the old hag are always welcome over the suffocating silence of this small room.

Leaning back on the bed, my head was starting to pound from all these gloomy thoughts. Most days I just blanked everything out. I needed to keep my mind straight for when Mr. Blaine comes to visit. His visits always leave me drained.

As I lay on my bed, I could hear the ticking of the little trinket clock Mr. Blaine brought me during his last visit. A birthday present, he said. I had just turned 21.

I hated the thing. It was too loud for something so small and that stupid painting of the yellow bird with beady eyes that always gave me the creeps. The gift was supposed to make me feel better, yet looking at it for too long made me nauseous.

Clearing my mind I turned on my side and focused on the window once more. I closed my eyes and imagined I was that leaf blowing far away from the manor. I could almost feel the wind picking me up, guiding me. I smiled, so close.

When a loud bang interrupted my thoughts.

"Supper will be up in ten minutes!" I could hear Mrs. Willows scream as she rang her annoying bell that sounded like a rusted old church bell.

I stayed in my position until I heard the screech of the metal window lodged in the door where the food was pushed through. I could hear the guard practically throw my food in.

I gritted my teeth. Nymeria was on duty tonight. She knew I hated when my food touched, so she made it her personal mission to piss me off. Not that she handled it so well last time — she may or may not have a piece of her pinkie missing from that encounter.

Waiting until her footsteps receded, I slowly got out of bed and made my way to the door, body feeling like lead, I carefully lifted the hatch and grabbed my food. Using the plastic fork, I inspected the damage. Great, just what I feared, the green mush slightly touched the brown mush. I held my breath as I ate.

I couldn't really tell how I ended up here. I have no memory of it. There was an accident of some sort and my mother insisted I needed help, and so I was shipped off and sent here. Everything feels off and fake, as if somehow my memories were taken out of my head, forged and put back together all wrong.

Later that night when Mr. Blaine came to visit, I was perched on the floor while he brushed my hair. That was his usual routine.

"You have beautiful hair," he told me once. "One of the reasons I chose you."

What a creeper, I remember thinking.

Usually I never said a word, but tonight I couldn't hold my tongue anymore.

"Mr. Bla—" I started, my voice weak and cracked. I hadn't used it in days. Coughing to clear the roughness, I tried again.

"Mr. Blaine."

Silence. Then a, "yes, love."

"The accident," I continued, "I was told my mother sent me here to get help. What happened that night? Why can't I remember?"

My heart was beating out of my chest waiting for his answer. No one ever gave me a real answer, not even my parents when they came to visit. Always so vague.

The brushing paused. I heard the chair creak as he moved from behind me, brush still in hand, crouching in front of me, pity in his cold grey eyes. He smiled through crooked teeth.

"Oh, dear child," he said softly. "That is exactly why you're here, remember?" His breath smelled of garlic. It made my stomach heave.

"Your mind is playing tricks on you again, you know how confused you get," he touched my shoulder as if to comfort me.

"No," I said quickly, trying to remember. "I don't. I remember the lakehouse, the fire. I remember—"

"You remember what we tell you to remember," he interrupted, still smiling. Sitting the brush down neatly next to the same stupid yellow bird clock, he stood. "And today you're remembering wrong is all. But that's okay. We'll help you remember properly tomorrow."

The clock ticked.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

My breath caught in my throat, tears filled my eyes. I felt cold. Swallowing my frustration, I picked at my fingernail until I felt the skin break. Looking up at him,

"I want to go home," I whispered.

Leaning forward, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the way my grandmother used to. He had a strange look on his face now, but he just turned and made his way to the door, pausing before his hand touched the handle, he turned to me once more.

"You are home," he said

and then he was gone.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 by Hashtag Kalakar is a prestigious event celebrating the art of storytelling and poetry. Participants from around the globe showcase their literary talents, contributing to a diverse tapestry of creative expression. This competition offers writers a platform to share their unique voices and connect with an audience that appreciates the written word's transformative power.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Kaylinn Tucker for her contribution to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026 with her short story, "Reasons I Chose You." Her work captivates readers with its depth and complexity, highlighting the enduring power of narrative to challenge and inspire.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.