9/11 Short Stories

The day was dark. I could feel a storm approaching. The gentle sunlight glistening through the clouds, now covered by a heavy mist. Drop. Drop. Drop. The coldness of the water tinged my face. And the earth shook, as a large boom erupted from the sky followed by a light crackle. By now, I was soaked, like that night. I continued walking through the deserted streets when a large flash erupted from the sky. Oh, great lightning, today was getting better and better. A woman and her young child was running towards their car to seek shelter. The walk was a long and dreadful one, I found myself looking at the place I left 15 years ago. The house was still dark and foreboding as ever, the shutters hanging off its hinges and the roof in a state of disrepair.

“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.

“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 come in sight. I don't remember why I’m running or where I’m headed, just that something is about to happen. I trust my instincts to guide me through the maze of eerily empty streets.

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.

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:

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

“I heard my mom talking to someone on the phone about my Dad... and that I might be targeted because of him.”

Sarah walked over to the window anixously waiting for her best friend to come over so they can hang out at their secret spot. Sarah decided while she waits for her best friend Grey, she would eat some cookies with milk. She walked over to the kitchen and poured a glass of milk and grabed 3 cookies. "Umm... So tasty!" she says, as she took a bite from the sweet melting chocolate cookie. Ad time pasted Sarah became worried as she wondered if Grey was comein. All of a sudden the door bell rang and she jumped off her chair and ran to open the door and Grey was standing. " What took you so long, I was worried you wouldn't come today." "Sorry I was late, I had to stop at the store for my mom, and speaking od the store I bought some things to take

William felt sick as he scrambled off his seat and frantically searched the area for cover. He could clearly hear the thumps of dead bodies hitting the deck, just as he could hear the drip drip drip of Michel’s blood as it hit the floor. In the corner of his eye, he could see the powder monkey trampled on the floor. There was no honor for the dead in the midst of a battle. He needed a hiding spot., something, anything! If he could just find a place to hide and wait out the battle…

“Uh, yeah- I guess you can say I enjoy a cup of coffee every once in awhile.” I try to casually laugh it off to no avail.

Unfortunate for them, all of us were settled in the private bus taking us to the Church. It was already eight. Some of the overly religious oldies were getting cranky about the long wait for the boys. They wanted to leave. Just like me. Unlike some species, I loathed tardiness.

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.

Since my birthday was coming up, my mom said sure. I leaped a hundred meters into the glittering store and gently brushed my hands across the cool, bumpy, blotchy fabric. The most precious, perfect, peculiar pair of jeans lay in my hands. It was like gold. Right from the start, I knew that these jeans would be the best thing.

He was equally apathetic as he was in awe of the way she agonized, his breathing ragged as she fell to the floor, her coworkers rushing to her aide and screaming profanities at him at the same time. Somewhere behind him, he heard someone state they had called the police. His lips spread into a slow smile, eyes closing as he drank in the symphony of her despair.

In the following day, CoCo and I chose to go shopping. I was looking like a bum because I didn’t care for my appearance, knowing I’m not in my hood. “Who could I possibly run across.” The answer is familiar faces like Tea. He coincidently happened to be at the same clothing store. When he looked at me I felt belittle.” Why me.” I screamed at my thoughts. However, he looked at me like it was a normal day. I escaped his stare by leaving the store.