9/11 Short Stories

Vernon shot up in bed and was expecting something to come creeping out of the shadows.

I didn't know what to say to him. My mind was empty. I couldn't tell whether he was sad or angry. It was difficult for me to interpret his emotions. He was not the kind to sew his heart on his sleeve. Yet, I saw tears streaming down his cheek whenever he was all alone. I felt bad for him, for the boy whose parents had died in a storm.

Drip, drip, drop. The appearance of the rain drops hitting the water of the pool reminds me of stones being throw in the water, and how they created those perfect circles that would expand until they faded away. Though the stones made the water react, it was still the same water; it went back to being flat. Do you suppose that we take these simple visuals, and make them into something more meaningful than what it really is? It really is just simple nature, yet we put more beauty and symbolism into. At least, that was how I see the world now that my mind no longer sees tricks as magic.

The oldest residents of the hospital basement were the spiders and their webs, a clear sign that no one else's footsteps had echoed within these walls for years. Maya's eyes darted around in concern not wanting to get in trouble for the third time this month. She glanced towards Ash who held the torch shining it onto old files of older patients buried just outside the centre. The smell of rotting wood and metal hung in the air, a pile of blood covered sheets tossed in the corner.

The dust in the air is as dry as a dessert, The rich soil is almost completely destroyed. Nothing grows here anymore,It just dies. But the people here aren't giving up without a Fight. What ever they have to do to beat this time, To beat the dust,But then suddenly a storm hit, one bigger than all the others. It hit the house as we were trying to prepare, But we were too late. The brown dust blew through every hole or crack, It flooded the house in seconds. Ma was in the kitchen trying to breathe clean air, I was trying to block the windows so we can breathe freely again. Pa covered the 6 windows in the house in seconds, but it wasn’t enough. We had to sit the helpless until the storm Stopped. Ma was coughing out dust, just trying to survive.

It was sad to see it in this state of disrepair, and she hoped to remedy that soon.

A panicked yelp rang out in the distance, followed by a screech of tires. The women continued walking, only a few casting a wondering glance towards the noise. The church bell was ringing, merry as we exited the church and the wind blew gently. My mother and father engaged the locals in conversation, eager to know more about the island we were on, Nui Tapu Tapu, a place only really known because of the tsunami damage it took on in September 2009. “What is that?” I asked my mother, as I pointed to two men dragging something black behind them. Yet before she could answer, I figured it out for myself. A strange pit formed in my stomach as I watched them drag a young dog behind them. “That must have been what caused the screech earlier.” My mother

“Madeline,” I hear through my endless solitude. It was quiet enough that I could have imagined it. I must have wanted to hear it so bad that I thought it was there. Thwarted by my realization, I close my eyes and try to fall asleep. “Madeline” it says again. I open my eyes to find that same sunny ceiling, in an entirely empty room. “Madeline.” It

It all started as June was loitering beside a busy street, ignoring the construction of the new building being put in place. It was almost done as she could tell, glass windows lining the sides and brick next to it. June shielded her eyes from the glass reflecting the sunlight, making the windows sparkle. June briefly brushed a strand of her jet black, silky hair behind her ear.

“Sorry, It’s my first time on a date, so I don’t know what to say, sorry” I apologise.

It was a hot, summer morning in late June when I heard barking outside my door. It was my dog, lucky, trying to wake me up. I got up and went downstairs.

I pulled my sweater tighter trying to lock out the cold weather; I should have listened to my mom about this. “Wear your jacket, Farah, It’s going to be a cold one!” Her words echoed in the back of my head like an endless loop; I knew something like this would happen. I started power walking in attempt to get to my warm, cozy bed as fast as I could, almost there.

The lanky, mysterious, good looking guy walks into a small little coffee shop in Cherrywood. As Dan opened the door, a strong bittersweet smell made the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

One summer night in a neighbourhood, Bryan got on his motorcycle and was looking for a ramp. Then he hit a fence and found a slide. He jumped over the fence and landed in a cold, cold pool. Then the pool’s owner had just seen what happened. She called the local police station to get him out and warm. Then his dad came to pick him up.

The sky was bright and the birds were sitting on the tree branches singing their songs. I layed in bed slowly trying to pull myself out of bed. It would be my first day back to school in 3 days. I reach for my phone to look at the time. 7:15. Schools already started so there is no point in going. The teachers will understand. I set my phone back down on the nightstand. After a few minutes pass by I hear my phone buzz. It’s a text from my friend, Britney.