9/11 Short Stories

Her lips formed strange and unusual sounds, her eyes closed softly and her cheeks paled. From her side belt she withdrew a small knife, a dagger. With a quick movement she cut her left hand with the dagger. As the drops of blood hit the cold marble floor the knife also clattered to the ground. The girl remained speaking her foreign tongue and let her life's blood run down her outstretched arm.

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'

The sign blinks and beckons at Alyssa from behind the misty sheet of rain. In bright pink flashing fluorescent it says:

I open my eyes and the first thing I notice besides the fact that I’m not in my room was the giant pile of shattered glass. I look away from the pile of glass and see a large group of tents and at least ten campfires. Instinctively I get up and start walking towards the tents. All of a sudden a strangely dressed man appears in front of me in a puff of smoke. I fall on my butt out of sheer shock.

The sun shone against the grass. Zack blinked slowly. The wind blew against his ears, and he looked at his hands. Small, petite. He sighed softly, and heard piano from the distance. Next to him, was a silhouette of a much older man. He sat next to Zack, and placed his hand on Zack’s head. He rubbed his hair, and mouthed a few words to him. Zack attempted to understand what he said. He picked Zack up and placed him on his lap. He spoke something to him, and placed his hands on Zack’s shoulders.

She ran as fast as her feet could take her. The moonlight weaved in and out of the branches illuminating spots she could reach. She did not dare to turn back to look over her shoulder because she knew it is how the killer always got the victim. Her white slip teared when it got snagged against a branch. Her fingers gripped the silk material and held it together by the tattered seams. She quickly began her escape once more and found a clearing from the icy branches.

I had just exited the barber shop when my dad was waiting for me inside his van. I agreed to help my aunt move her household items into boxes in preparation for her new home. I agreed to help because not only was I close to my aunt; I also get to see my cousin, Joseph. I had kept my thoughts about him throughout the car ride until we finally arrived at my aunt’s house. As usual, she ran outside to welcome me and my dad warmly while Joseph stood on the doorway watching us from the shadows. When I walked up to him to say my greetings, he did the same but he wasn’t as enthusiastic as the three of us. With that, my Dad worked alongside our aunt while I was paired with my cousin who was in charge of carrying living room furniture out of the house.

It was October 31st, 1999, one windy, cold, and dark Halloween night. Three friends, McKenzie, Baylee, and Vanessa decided they wanted to stay home alone while Baylee’s parents were at work. She told everyone she lived in a “hell house” all her life because there was constantly something going on. Doors flying open, voices, footsteps. Nothing ever stayed where they had put it. Her parents worked all the time and she was constantly terrified. On Halloween it tended to get worse but no one had ever believed her.

“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.

It was dark, probably early in the morning, something had awoken the professor. He slowly opened his eyes, and slipped his feet on the ground, and sat on his bed. He rubbed his eyes. The professor grabbed his watch: It was 3:00 Am. It would be no use to try to go to sleep again, so he lazily shuffled into his kitchen, and turned on the coffee machine. When his coffee was finished, he took a sip. The silky, warm drink felt nice in his cold RV. He had been camping out in there along with a multitude of different scientists and professors of several nationalities. All of them studying this arena, it was almost the size of a country, and it was now housing 32 kids. Most of them were 5-10 year old orphans. Except one. Nobody knows how he snuck inside,

It was a mysterious, windy, dark night. Annabel, a short young girl with jet black hair, eyelashes that reached the sky and eyes like a puppy dog, had just awoken on the floor of a cold dark forest. As she took in her surroundings and wondered how she had got there, a sudden pain appeared in her head and she had a brief flashback of painful memories of the car crash that she and her parents had just been involved in, a horrific accident; she lay there as tears slowly welled up in her eyes and rolled down her soft, pale cheeks. The thought of her deceased parents sent a shiver up her spine; she couldn’t believe they were gone.

I was 21 now and I’d been hiding out at julia’s house for years now. I had a job and a child. For a long time i had been doing things on my own. I couldn’t live with my grandparents and face the fact they were the reason why my mother killed herself. At home someone kept knocking on the doors at night but we never knew who it

Ellie and I lay in our beds, neither one of us knew what to say. In the other room, our host parents were arguing. We didn’t know what about, but we knew it was serious. Then we heard a “THWACK” followed by silence. Ellie and I sat up in our beds and looked at each other, I could tell she was as scared as I was. “Was that? Did he just?” she asked me. Then the arguing started back up again. We calmed back down until we heard it again. “THWACK” We knew then, the noise we heard, was him beating her. We got up, our hearts racing; neither of us knew what to do. We got our nerves together to go get help. When we opened the door to our room we saw the children sitting on the couch crying out for their mother. I could see the fear in their face and I knew something needed to change.

I hear yelling… again. I go see what’s going on, even though in the back of my head, I already know what I’m walking into. I see angry shadows on the wall, coming from the small bathroom that sits on the left side of the narrow hallway. I walk in and see who those angry shadows belong to, my mom and clearly intoxicated dad. “I can’t do this anymore Bobby. I want a divorce.” At the time, I had no idea what a “divorce” was, but seeing that my mother was evidently upset; I hugged her right leg tightly to try and comfort her. This sets my dad into a fit of rage, causing him to knock the contents of the sink onto the bathroom floor. “If you think you’re going to take my kids away from me, you’re wrong.” I feel

As we climbed the stairs I thought I heard a sound, but I thought it as a rat, (oh boy was I wrong, but we’ll get to that in a second). I asked her why the house was so derelict. She told me that this was her grandfather 's house, and that it had been abandoned for years. “Well then why did you tell me to come here, if you don 't live here?” I asked her. “Well because-,” she started to answer but was cut off, because at that moment we opened the bedroom door, and inside there were men, before I could do anything they had tackled me, then everything went black.