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.

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.

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

At times, I think the world around me is crashing to the ground, but it keeps going. Like most people, I face obstacles of not making it to work on time, the terror of not meeting deadlines and a large family demanding my time. However, I have never encountered the type of tragedy that can bring you to your knees, that can drive you over the edge, that can influence one’s mind with thoughts of suicide until the wee hours of a mid-June morning, fifteen years ago.

“Is there a problem, Miss?” One of the officers asked again. Wanting so badly to say that everything was all right, and send them away. Carol, for a few seconds, stares at William searching his eyes for an apology, but all she could see was hatred and the frightened looks on her children’s faces. And they could not be described in words.

I had been on a boat before, and I didn't usually tend to get sea sick. I felt a little queasy, but I knew I'd be alright. We were getting off of the ferry in less than forty minutes. I sat with Avenelle Jérôme on the edge of a window that was so long it touched the floor. So basically, we were sat on the floor, but that sounds filthy, doesn't it? "Nelly?" I mumbled, he was staring out at the murky waters below like a little kid, probably waiting for the coast of France to appear. Meanwhile, Nicki was on the top deck, using her iPhone to take pictures for her Tumblr.

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

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

When I pressed the yellow, diamond-shaped gem to the crème-colored Crowning Cloth on the table, Law Nine resounded in my head - Twelvers do not deface or alter their bodies.

He rushed over to her to make sure she was okay. Kate just nodded, a bit groggy from the events that took place just several of hours earlier. Once fully awake, Kate began blurting out questions like an auctioneer.

The old man quickly realized that he was a fake version of his kind. The old man swung at him to see if he would react and see if he can go fast in time and try to evade it. Jacob failed and got hit by the old man's blade by a bit and cut his hand open. The old man told him that he was too slow and that he can do it faster. As Jacob argued with him saying why he did that, the man got bandages and covered him up.

“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