9/11 Short Stories

Red light, bright as the midday sun, flared into existence. It began to flicker and waver. Small tongues of flame spread their reach, jumping from the floor onto the nearby curtains. It began to pick up the pace as it consumed more and more like a starving creature. In seconds, it had spread to all the curtains that spanned across the room-length window. Smoke filled the air, giving the walls a fine layer of ash and soot. In the bed opposite the window, a girl rested her head. Her eyes flashed open as she breathed in the heavy tang.

I walked to it and tried prying it from the ground with my fingers. A twig broke behind me and I jumped and spun around. It was dark now and the only light was from the full moon. I had a bad feeling start to pump through me. I turned and ran trying to evacuate the danger I felt nearby. I ran through brush that looked like claws trying to grab my ankles. And as tree limbs came down snatching at my skin I tripped and fell. I saw a tree nearby that looked welcoming and I tried to use it as cover. Black wings busted through the trees and run started echoing around me in a croaked out a raspy breath.

“Hello” I shout. “Anybody there” I yell into the darkness. My voice echoes far into the darkness of the world beyond. I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know who I am. Each day I sit here calling out into the dark hoping to see the light. I am trapped. I travel each and every hour searching for light or a means to escape this perilous abyss. I wait for the light to reappear each day, small slivers of light at first. But, eventually the bright gleaming rays of light pierce the abyss.

After close to four hours of waiting at Java Jolt and endless cups of coffee, the bell on the crowded coffee shop door rang, and London walked in looking around for us. “How’s the scene? Do you know how many casualties?” I asked.

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.

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:

So we all went down to the basement with flashlights and saw Kathryn starring at the wall. I walked up to her and gently grabbed her hand and she whispered to me.

Thunder growled in the near distance, rain pelting the tower as thick, drab mist swirled through the forest. The bright sun struggled against the cloudy blanket that spread across the dark sky. Through the dense trees, there could be seen a tower. It stood proudly, it's imposing presence known to it's vast surroundings. Stone upon stone had been covered by ivy and vines covering an expanse of the dank tower. Decorative bands of Caen stone could be beheld peeking out from underneath the moss. A single entrance was seen near the top of the tower, just below the pointed roof. It was large enough that a person, such as a rescuer, might easily fit through it. At the open window, stood a woman, dressed in burgundy with gold lining her sleeves and neckline. Her long, flaxen hair swayed behind her in the strong breeze, splashes of rain touching her blushing cheeks. Beneath elongated lashes sat dark cobalt eyes, wondering and curious. They rested on a man in front of her, clinging onto the window as they conversed. At almost six foot and a half, the man was typically heroic. His many sparkling embellishments showed his royalty as he waited for the damsel to take his offer of marriage.

There was a blanket of darkness in the room; as if someone had woven the sky into a dark cloth and spread it over the room. It was cold. Colder than the frostbite slowly inching up Robert Peary’s leg. An icy blue flame was flickering above the wick of a well-used candle. The misty shade of purple from the curtains filled the room with a bleak atmosphere. On top of a wooden drinks cabinet sat a wireless whispering in the background of the room.

Mrs. Chipley and Sarah were standing in the rain in front of Aunt Sarah’s house. Sally felt uncomfortable because she barely knew Aunt Sarah. “ Can you just go in the house already, i’m soaked with water,” says Mrs. Chipley. “ I’m sure Aunt Sarah doesn’t want me here,” Sally says with a frightened face.

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.

Three hours and an uneventful boarding later, they were escorted to their spacious first class seats on their British Airways flight from Los Angeles to London.

    “Wait!” The guard screamed. Chris’ uncle’s hand was only millimeters away from smashing the guard’s face into jelly, “It’s on the 70th floor, last door at the end of the hall.”

“The old looking door near the ladder to the attic. I’ve never noticed it before but I figured you would know,” Will.

He wipes his nose with his sleeve and breathes in hardly and walks down the white wall corridor that was made brighter due to the lights that stretched the length of the corridor. His black oxfords echoed with every step he took. At the end of the corridor there's is a pair of sliding doors with a surveillance camera that guarded the door like a red-eyed