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.

Meanwhile, Hulga lay in the loft of the barn, and due to the lack of vision correction, she struggled to discern the amount of fingers she was raising an arm's length away. Her optical deficiency was beginning to give her a throbbing pain just behind her eyes. The paralyzing ache gave rise to such agony that Hulga had no choice but to shut her eyes and get some rest.

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.

Now far enough away from the night club opening, Jessie could hear the distinct sound of a woman screaming. The heart wrenching sound made her stop mid step. Cold terror washed over her as she neared the corner of the alley and peered around it. There were distinct shapes - someone on the ground writhing in pain, one cowering against the wall, and three that approached her. She heard the poor woman crying out for help and saw one of the advancing shadows reach a hand up to strike her across the face. Nausea broiled in the put of her stomach and Jessie took a cautious step in. For a moment she weighed her options - trying to decide what to do. Did she fight or did she fly? Whatever - or rather whoever she thought she saw obviously wasn't real. There was no Superman. But this woman still needed help. Jessie clung to her phone as though it was a bludgeoning weapon and dialed 911. She took a step forward - about to call out to the attackers - when another shadow landed in front of her.

The floors were swept. Curtains, a deep blue, hung straight and heavy over clean windows and the walls were neatly, uniformly painted with a warm brown. Cabinet doors were closed over their contents, the bed towards the back of the room was made, and the blanket pulled over the top was smooth and brightly colored, if a bit faded and worn. Even the herbs and candles scattered across the wooden table were done so in a systematic way, everything lining up according to some sort of order that wouldn’t be obvious to any outside observer.

He opens his eyes to see a slate white room. He turns his head to see a colossal amount of many different flowers. He hears a beeping beside the bed he is laying in. Then, he feels a rush of excruciating pain throughout his entire body. Suddenly, he feels as if somebody is tearing off his leg. He frantically yanks off the white sheets to reveal his a stub leg. He attempted to let out a scream but no air could come out. Finally, his mother runs in with decaying tissues in her hand and red puffy eyes. “Oh Derek!” she exclaims while thrusting him into her arms causing shocks of pain to circulate his body. “They said you might not wake up. Thank you! Thank you! Don’t worry it will be okay. Everything will be okay.” However, Derek didn’t believe anything she said. Nothing at that moment seemed okay. Derek closes his eyes hoping that if he fell asleep he could escape

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.

When Rainbow finished her weather patrol duties of clearing the dismal clouds that hung over Ponyville and in other ethereal regions across Equestria, she bolted to The Golden Oak Library; so she could go home and see Twilight, her inamorata. After landing in front of the library, she then took a quick look around to see if Twilight was outside. Not in sight. Satisfied, she tried the latch and found the door unfastened. She entered and closed the door.

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.

She was a long-legged, curvy girl, but she knew how to move quietly. She pulled her scarf up over her face, and stepped out into the blinding sunlight, the heat from the sand warming up the bottom of her shoes. She kept all except her eyes and hands covered, and walked swiftly through the sandy hills of the Sahara Desert. She wasn't easy to notice, wearing robes the same color as the thin grains of sand beneath her feet. From above, or far away, you would just see her movement as the sand being blown in the wind.

The eclipse, something that only happened once every hundred years. For a few minutes, the eclipse will totally block out the sun. The day would suddenly turn into the night, in a blink of an eye. The world is literally in darkness, the void in which reality begins. Some found it symbolic creating hidden meanings behind phenomena. Some crazies were even making apocalyptic predictions. Brennan only cared about it, because he got to miss school today.

Two men stood on a platform observing the thick jungle below them the warm breeze doing little to help cool them off as the sun beat down on them, their eyes remained glued on the jungle below before noticing movement and the sound of a bell turning to look at the source of the sound seeing that it was just a cow wearing a brass bell. They watched it amble along without a care in the world while taking the time to stop for a bite to eat. The cow seemed relaxed and even comfortable in the jungle below as it lowered its head once more to continue to feast on the vegetation surrounding it, it seemed like there was nothing to see until the cow’s head shot up and shortly after a sound akin to thunder could be heard.

‘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

His jaw had been slack since he'd fist showed up outside Rowan's window. He'd been talking about things that Rowan didn't understand, things he probably didn't either. Jack had a soft look on his face, one that didn't suit him. He still couldn't manage to look peaceful.

It's a Saturday evening, and it’s getting late. I’m taking a stroll in a nearby park while on my way home when I came across a bizarre sight. I’m curious as to what was going on so I approached the scene. As I came closer I observed 3 bodies; they appeared to be witches. Each gruesome, their hair lanky and grimy, cunning eyes of a cat, hooked nose, snaggleteeth, and they all had vile warts on their nose. They frightened me! However, I had never witnessed anything like them before, so I stayed. They stared upon me with glaring, demonic eyes. I asked the witches what I will be doing after high school is over. They asked me for ingredients to place in their cauldron to help guide them to answering my question. They demanded 13 ingredients of me for this wicked brew.