9/11 Short Stories

Obtrusively,the thunder bellowed outside and the roaring sound filled the small room like rock music to a broken soul.Amongst the thunder, raindrops could be seen ebbing down the windowsill forming undecipherable miniscule shapes and later sinking down in the wall to gather at the edge.

My mom drove me to school, filling the car with an awkward and unbearable silence. The only noise was her thumb tapping the steering wheel and the annoying clicking of the signals. Since I am on punishment, I'm not allowed to have the luxury of Megan driving me. To make this car ride a little bit less awkward, I turned on the radio and blasted up the volume to the highest notch.

Out of the darkness, rivers of brilliant light and color began to flow all around her, as if a dam holding back a rainbow had miraculously burst. Then she heard the music... a melody so beautiful it tugged at her very soul. It was as if the euphony clothed her in an impenetrable blanket. She felt warm. She felt safe. Uncontrollably, tears welled up, the hymn gripping her heart, and she was forced to squeeze her eyes shut and instinctively her body curled into a protective ball.

I walk downstairs in light blue high waisted shorts and a white tank top with cowgirl boots.

“Come here, look,” she would say, her voice trembling with every syllable, “we received an encrypted letter from Langley.”

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.

It was just for one night, thought she as she closed the window. The wind is howling and the rain is conducting a symphony of drums against the glass. She turns around and starts walking across the room, the white carpet is soft underneath her bare feet, as she walks to her chair, fixing up her mess of long, beautiful black hair into a messy bun. She has the hair of a Disney princess and the school thought she's one of the most beautiful girls in the entire class, with eyes of ice and a heart of gold. Underneath the mountain of clothes she has yet to put away she finds a towel and hands it to Roman. He takes it from her, their hands lightly touch and he flashes that million dollar, white as snow smile. His dad must be drinking again. Why else

There was a mysterious tapping at the window, and a sudden silence fell over the four people sitting by the fireplace. It was as if a cold chill had invaded the warmly lit room to remind them of the threatening storm and dark outside. The two brothers and their wives had been talking of Alan Drake, although they did not speak of him often, for they had little enough to say. He had simply walked away two years ago, leaving a cryptic note:

I squint my eyes against the bright sun. It glares in my eyes refusing to allow any clouds, if there were any, to give me shade. Well I do not think the sun is worried about me, but maybe it would if only I could find something. Anything. I dig for artifacts, for bones, like I said for anything of value. I decide to take a break, the heat is killing me, and get a drink of water. I stand and brush the dust off my legs.

“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

Her body always feels cold, always feels fragile. That’s why someone else’s touch always feels so foreign to her.

She smiled at the sound of her music. She walked her usual route to school. That normal shrub, that normal tree, that normal building. She sighed at all of the normal things that she passed every day. She just hoped that something else would happen, something exciting. She got the wind knocked out of her as she was pushed out of the way from an unknown force, and an unknown reason. She looked back in time to see that a man had pushed her out of the way as an SUV and a Semi-truck collided with each other. The that stood in front of her was telling her something, but she couldn’t hear anything from the blasting of her headphones. She was too in shock to move, or remove her headphones to hear the man. The police siren sounded off in the distance. She felt the fire

‘Beep’
I answered the intercom.
“Mr. and Mrs. Taylor are here regarding their missing son” answered Sally, my assistant.
I signaled her to send them in. They entered with a melancholy look on their faces. Hand in hand they had a puppy like look that I couldn’t say no to. So with comfort and reassurance I urged them to share their horrific story. The story was that Matt; the Taylor’s son was reported
missing a few days ago. He was let go from school but never turned up at home. I assured them that I will do all that I can do and sent them home.

The case wasn’t that unique as there have been many disappearances and kidnappings in this town. Most of the kids are just trying to get out of this unexciting and dreary town or just wanted to get away

The evening was ominous and gray. The cold wind blew softly, and carried a heavy scent of blood through the streets. A loud intense screech pierced the ears of its listener, leaving the body trembling in fear.

I couldn’t breath. Dust was everywhere. Our little town of Lakewood in Oklahoma, has vanished. Cars were now piles of dust on the road. Crops were now dry and nowhere to be seen. My eyes burned and itched. Our house was once a home, but now it looked dark. Dark and scary. It was not as white as it used to be. It always looked happy and felt like a home. But now our house, didn’t feel or look like a home. The walls were cracked and the windows were full of dust. The floors were scratched and clawed. Our beds and blankets are not safe places anymore. The food that we consume, tastes raw, bitter, and has no flavor. We’re eating and swallowing dust everyday. Pa has tired marks on his face. Ma doesn’t cook us our favorite meals anymore. Rose and