The Line Around My Neck - By Katy Jones

Written By: Katy Jones

Category: short story

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

In the poignant and introspective short story "The Line Around My Neck," Katy Jones, writing under the name "the line around my neck," offers a raw glimpse into the emotional turbulence faced by many. This entry, part of Hashtag Kalakar's Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, delves into the suffocating pressures of expectations and the quiet battles that often go unnoticed. Through vivid imagery and a haunting narrative, this work challenges readers to confront the unseen struggles of mental health and self-worth.

About the Work

Katy Jones' "The Line Around My Neck" is a stirring exploration of internal conflict and societal pressures. The narrative captures a suffocating sense of despair, using the metaphor of drowning to illustrate the protagonist's emotional state. The story unfolds with a rhythmic tension, reflecting the protagonist's struggle against the overwhelming demands placed upon her. The piece invites readers to empathize with the silent screams of those burdened by expectation, offering a poignant commentary on the relentless pursuit of perfection and its toll on the human spirit.

the line around my neck

Original Submission by Katy Jones

The Line Around My Neck

By Katy Zayde Jones

I’m drowning.

Theres’s fishing line wrapped around my neck and it’s pulling tight,

so tight.

I’m struggling in the silent pressure of the cold, dark water.

I should be panicking, fighting for my life.

But- I’m not.

I knew I’d surface.

Part of me didn’t care if I did.

I didn’t know that part of me existed.

She sits with me now in my caving mind.

My Mothers never pressed me hard to study, I’ve always just done it. I got the work done by 11pm. I got the good marks, I got the good reports.

And then it all…escalated.

Too quick, too sudden.

I couldn’t keep up.

I’m too slow- too dull.

I’m clawing at the dirt in the ground, I’m not strong enough, I can’t find a grip, I’m slipping!

The marks fell.

The report devalued.

The comments, concerning.

It’s okay. She whispers in my mind. But I see the line of worry on Mother’s brow.

That line. It’s too tight.

“Extra effort, extra tutors, extra hours.

Less friends, less books, less beach.”

You’ve taken my every escape.

All my efforts, no capable enough tutors, all my hours.

Most marks rise, I’m happy.

Mother is not.

One mark fails to be fixed.

“It’s not up to me.” I say.

“I’ve given my share.” I explain.

“I’m not the one failing” I plead…

“We just want more from you.” Mother says.

I’VE GIVEN MY EVERYTHING! THERES NOTHING LEFT TO GIVE!

I stare at Mother, silent. Screams stuck in my skull.

I have nothing left to offer, and still Mother wants more.

“Just do your best.”

But this is it, this is my best. It is all I’ve ever been doing.

I’m drowning in phantom tears.

The test is tomorrow. I’ve done all I can, and I know it won’t be enough.

So I’m laying in the dark, on my back. The scratchy carpet cradling my tremors. The thick, dark silence of night holding my screams.

Screams no one hears.

Screams that will never leave my lips.

Screams that do not reach existence.

I write to the extent of my vocabulary, until I stretch the boarders of my knowledge.

From an F I have excelled to a B.

Mother does not believe me.

As always, I am left defeated by her, stripped of all my words.

I write again tomorrow. I sleep sound. I am no longer sick.

All fear has been sapped away in dry exhaustion.

I leave the paper laughing, knowing I have exceeded my limits. Because how can you squeeze out answers to questions you do not understand?

But I am okay.

Mother is not.

I take the lashings numbly.

Why is it now that you reprimand me?

Why be angry now that it is done?

Do you want me to come out broken?

Do you wish to see my tears?

Is sickness from stress what you use to measure my success?

My efforts?

I’VE DONE ALL I CAN!

Questions and exclamations boil and collide in my throat, but none escape.

The line is too tight, its cutting into my flesh.

I should be worried.

I should be fighting this- all this.

But,

I’m not.

I knew I’d fail.

Part of me didn’t care if I did.

I didn’t know that part of me was so strong.

I’ve let her take over my collapsed mind.

I’m drowning.

No one notices the line around your neck.

No one notices you’ve slipped under.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, celebrates diverse voices in poetry and prose from around the world. This competition provides a platform for writers to share their unique perspectives and stories, fostering a global community of creativity and expression. Participants are encouraged to push the boundaries of their craft, contributing to an ever-growing anthology of contemporary literature.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Katy Jones for sharing "The Line Around My Neck" with us in the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. This powerful narrative serves as a reminder of the importance of recognizing and addressing the hidden battles individuals face. Your participation enriches the literary community, and we are grateful for your contribution.

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.