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.

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.

Nothing was heard, only the water droplets that drops from the crack ceiling. Making a small puddle on the ground, having mice roaming around the place.

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

The darkness in the sky gave a hint towards the evil lurking in the world. Suspicion filled the minds of all trusted to defend particular terrain. A wind blew across the world. The kind of wind that seemed to whisper,” Boo”. Upon a strike of thunder, rain started to beat the ground. An aroma of terror had been commenced.

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:

She took a deep breath and slowly opened her eyes while emerging from the damaged spacecraft. Vibrant green grass awaited her along with trees all around and the smell of fresh rain dropping from the sky above. Raegan took a moment to wrap her head around what she had just experienced. It was only supposed to be a mission to collect data about the rings of Saturn. She was aware she went through something queer, something scientists said had only been a theory not yet proved. A wormhole; a fold in space. Raegan didn’t quite know where she was. All she had been aware of was that something went unplanned, which caused her to crash into a planet, perhaps in a distant universe. Anything could be possible in the infinite abyss we call space.

figures dart between the devastating ruins of the condemned buildings; they weave in and out crossing the darkened rain-watered streets avoiding the searching spotlight. Hiding in collapsing doorways and the war-torn wreckage abandoned by the many that perished trying to defend them. Working hard to blend with the deteriorating walls and the half-standing shells of the concrete rubble, They use the many trash-filled alleys as their temporary cover. Mindful that the German snipers scan the area for any would-be terrorists, they keep a watchful eye on the rooftops. Michelle decides, in this case, there is not strength in numbers. “We must separate,” she mentions,

For two weeks, I didn’t see my father at all. I woke up, every day, hoping that he would be in the dining room helping Dusty out with the making of breakfast. Instead, for the past two weeks, I woke up to the usual: breakfast on the table, Dusty and Vinyl calling me down to join them with still no sign of my father. No longer, for those two weeks, did I wake up to the smell of water vapour from Jazzmere’s smoking pipe. No longer, for those two weeks, did I wake up to Jazzmere singing old Equestrian songs about the Princesses and how they formed the kingdom. No longer, for those two weeks, did I wake up to the hissing sound of the iron Jazzmere used to iron the clothes I wore to school.

You’re too thankful to be anything but satisfied. “Right now, he’s recovering from the procedure he just did.”

Scanning the darkness from left to right, seeing near where he stood, he first took in the main counter, seeing it being configured as an “L” shape. He then looked through its transparent fronts, seeing the remains of small and empty displays. Even through the dimness brought by the open door, he could tell their whiteness was dust covered. His eyes lifted, looking beyond the main counter, and then scanned slightly right. Seeing further into the depth of the room, and on its other side, sat a set of two counters travelling the far wall. Both, butted end-to-end, they led to a back area he could not fully see. He assumed that was where the back entryway was and where the killer entered.

The bell rang, students sat in their seats, and they began to write down their homework.

“MUM! Wait!” I yell. My throat is sore, partly from the yelling, but mostly from the running. The thick, night fog blocked my vision of the path ahead completely, only allowing the occasional glow of the street lamps barely come in sight. I don't remember why I’m running or where I’m headed exactly, just that something is going to happen. Something bad; but what? I trust my instincts to guide me through the maze of eerily empty streets and parked cars. I thought I’d seen something move in the corner of my eye, that’s when I hear the deafening explosion to my right. I cower beneath my arms, ready to anticipate the blazing heat of the supposed flames. I don’t feel anything. I realize why. Towering above me, a pair of worried eyes cautiously

James stood completely still, in shock at the sight of the forest. He turned to look at the girl standing next to him.