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.

My mom drove me to school, filling the car with an awkward and unbearable silence. The only noise was her thumb tapping the steering wheel and the annoying clicking of the signals. Since I am on punishment, I'm not allowed to have the luxury of Megan driving me. To make this car ride a little bit less awkward, I turned on the radio and blasted up the volume to the highest notch.

We saw a tiny roof on the side of a trailer. We waited under there until the rain died down. I wanted to go home—I really did—but I knew I had promised Phoebe that I wouldn’t run for the hills. The rain died down and we continued walking home.

The chill of winter air had nudged her from her slumber. Gazing through the window upon the dreary horizon, the blur of gray told Hulga that rain was nearing. Nervously, she backed into the corner away from the window and curled up next to a pile of hay and settled in. Soon after repositioning herself, Hulga heard the consistent patter of rain on the roof of the barn. Her eyes watered as she wondered if her mother had been frantically searching for her.

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.

There was a bright flash of light, a vague pulling sensation at my core, and then I was standing in the middle of a magic circle. The circle was drawn in dark purple chalk, had a thin white candle at each of the five points, outlined in a sickly yellow glow, and once again, I was standing in the middle of it.

The rain and thundering outside during this scene made it the more powerful; it helped the viewer understand that something serious was happening, and allowed the viewer to empathize.

I walk downstairs in light blue high waisted shorts and a white tank top with cowgirl boots.

I awoke to a cacophony of screams, both of excitement and of pain. I jolted up quickly, unable to control my own muscles or vocal chords, as if a spectre was holding me back with airy fingers of death.

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.

Joe now stands alone looking up at the house, an overnight bag in one hand and his nap sack on a stick in the other... He walks up the old stones steps, noticing pieces crumbling apart... 'This place is old alright... Just what the doctor ordered'

“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.

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.”

Tim took it from George, took out a small vial, dumped the contents into a syringe, and administered the liquid to the tiger. As he did so, he also undid the clamp on the trap. The trap scratched his finger as the tiger awoke, leapt up, and ran to a nearby river. Just then, the ATVs arrived, but all their drivers saw was an empty trap and a bunch of footprints.