9/11 Short Stories

Good Essays

What if people mastered everything the first time they tried, would that steal our individuality? What if people were honest, would that really make everything better? What if all crimes were solved, would we really be safe? What if we all gave up our faults and flaws, would we really be perfect? Our world is cruel and people are here to tear you down, or are we just not doing our job of building each other up?
My name’s Olivia. Some basic things to know about me are that I’m seventeen years old, I have one little brother (his name’s Charlie and he was five, the last time I saw him), I have a mother who was orderly, a neat freak, and put together, an I had father. My father-oh my father, he was strong, handsome, and my protector. He saved my …show more content…

My parents - they’re gone. My brother, I-I-I can’t find him! Please!” I sobbed with my face in my hands. Nothing. There was no response.
“Hello?” I yelled in her face.
“Hello?” I said in a panic now.
“AHHH!” I screeched. My voice echoed and I crumpled to the floor. As I lay on the ground, a smell seemed to enter and toxicate the air. I didn’t run, I didn’t fight the urge to fall asleep, I didn’t care if I died right there and then. In my mind I had already died, and my spirit was still back in bed dreaming of nothing important. I was just a body, a body waiting to meet the horror of this white prison. As I lay crying and beginning to holsinate another wave of white washed over me.
Not again!
“Hello,” a clam, kind voice said. My eyes flashed open and darted around looking at the room I was in. It was a bedroom. A grand, white, perfect bedroom. I was on the bed, just laying on the top. My hands were folded, and I felt at peace. I felt comfortable.
“You okay?” the voice asked. I bolted up and and stared at the boy sitting on a chair at the foot of the bed, talking to me. He had chocolate brown hair, caramel colored eyes, looked pretty tall, and about my age. Instead of wearing the all white outfit I had seen the other males wearing in the eerie room, he wore a white V-neck t-shirt with blue jeans, and a pair of expensive looking brown shoes. I broke my gaze with him to look at myself. I was still wearing the white dress, barefoot, and my hair still hung at my …show more content…

“Well,” I said quietly.
“I don't know anything about where I’m at, who you are, where you’re taking me, where my family is, or if they’re okay,” I said shyly.
“I see,” Derek said mysteriously.
“Well then, we’ll just have to spend the day together to get to know each other. Come on!”, he said, jogging out of the room. I followed after him into a white hall. Was everything white?
I couldn’t help but stop, I was mesmerized at how elegant the hall was. It was a long passage, decorated with white tables, mirrors with white trim, white tile, white ceilings, and white lamps placed on every table giving off a ghostly, cold light. Open doors lined the walls. Inside, you could see white decorated rooms.
“Wow!” I said in awe.
“What?” Derek asked, with a puzzled look on his face.
“This hall. It’s perfect, and so beautiful,” I stammered.
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Derek said with a smirk on his face. Together we walked through the long hall and made small talk. I found that the more time I spent with him, the more I began to trust him.
Finally, after what seemed like forever we came to a small wooden door that had been painted, you guessed it, white. But, this door was

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9/11 Short Stories