9/11 Short Stories

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.

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.

“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.

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

It was sad to see it in this state of disrepair, and she hoped to remedy that soon.

“Why am I here? What happened to me? Who am I?” Everything was happening so fast, It felt like i couldn't breathe. I began to cry.

Then he struck again. The dwarf fell forward and landed on his tummy like a turtle on its shell—arms and legs straight out—suspended three feet off the ground by his enormous protrusion.

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.

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.

Sarah heard the screams and tried to make herself as small as she could. The closet she was hiding in was pitch black, not much bigger than a phone booth and smelled of strong chemicals. But for now, it was her only refuge from the terror that reigned just beyond the darkness of her sanctuary. The sheer panic owned Sarah in the moments leading up to now had drifted, as she realised the frequency of the screams from the nearby hallways had decreased in the last few minutes. But she was still every bit as scared as when the whole thing began. She could hear her own breathing and wondered how loud it may sound to the outside world. Sarah hadn’t heard gunshots for a while, five minutes. Maybe more. She couldn’t know for sure. The shooting began without warning and turned the school into chaos sometime during second period when Sarah was in the library.

I pulled my sweater tighter trying to lock out the cold weather; I should have listened to my mom about this. “Wear your jacket, Farah, It’s going to be a cold one!” Her words echoed in the back of my head like an endless loop; I knew something like this would happen. I started power walking in attempt to get to my warm, cozy bed as fast as I could, almost there.

I. Forced to wear a dress at a formal event that Hyesun had dragged her to, she was stunning. No matter how much of a ‘delinquent’ she was to others, there was something about the aura that she gave off. It was incredible to see such class and grace in one setting. The younger would always wear articles of black and just so opposite from the ivory dress she was wearing. There were going to be stars at the party, and she was definitely one of them.

There was a blanket of darkness in the room; as if someone had woven the sky into a dark cloth and spread it over the room. It was cold. Colder than the frostbite slowly inching up Robert Peary’s leg. An icy blue flame was flickering above the wick of a well-used candle. The misty shade of purple from the curtains filled the room with a bleak atmosphere. On top of a wooden drinks cabinet sat a wireless whispering in the background of the room.

I ran straight to the door and locked every single lock using both my hands. Panicking and racing up and down in my office, not knowing where my husband was. Did they take him? Is he dead? No! I can’t think like this, everyone is safe. I grabbed my phone and called the police, hearing shots being fired, listening to the others screaming for help. Twist and turn, I hear someone trying to open the door. I quickly run to the cardboards and hide but I was too late. The glass of the windows were blown off “Money! Where’s the money”. A men jumped in, he was dressed like an ordinary person but was holding a gun. I screamed and tried to run. He pushed me back and held the gun to my face, “I said, where. Is. The. Money!” My mind froze. I had a flashback

With the police at our doorstep, and us trapped in our own home there was only one thing left to do; run. We