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.

“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.

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

Theta had been curled up on the couch for maybe 30 minutes now, fast asleep. The weather conditions were fine, last he checked, so everything was fine, or so he thought...

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.

“Did you get a close look at him? Did you notice something, distinct about his appearance?” Detective Johnson asked.

He stopped; footsteps stunned into silence. His face was drawn; his cheeks sunken. The red stain of his shadow faded as the horizon devoured the sun, engulfing him in darkness. The moon rose higher and the stars came out one by one, their celestial dance glittering in the dissipating clouds. His eyes began to adjust to the darkened surroundings as he took one last glance behind him. In that moment he knew he was leaving his past for good.

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.

Loathed them, actually, with a passion. When their eyes widened and started to water, when their knees began to tremble, when the moon slowly began to appear behind their gaze — that was when his lips curved in a sneer and his words were dipped in poison.

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.

Waking up with the feeling of fear, contempt and uselessness. Looking out the window watching kids on the streets riding their bikes full of laughter and joy. I walk downstairs and see my husband making me breakfast and asks me to sit down. I pick up my fork and force myself to at least try to eat something. My stomach was grumbling, no doubt I was hungry but I was too nervous to the point that I couldn’t hold anything down.

I was an uneventful day and the bright morning sun gistered against the morning dew as it shun through my shiny bedroom window. My bedroom reminds me of a store with endless products and a theatre with a large television. I am just wealthy. My family is wealthy. I was heading downstairs in my blue nike bed slippers, hopped off with my favorite sweat pants and extended shirt. I was doing my regular routine of checking what my wife is cooking for breakfast.

The next morning, I woke long before the sun was up and sat on the back porch watching the stars while working my way through two cups of French Roast coffee. After the events of the previous day, I felt different, as if a part of me had cracked open and fallen away like an old shell that had lost its purpose and gotten in the way. It was a good change, I decided, but I had a ways to go if I had any hope of really seeing the bright future that I was dreaming of for my family and myself.

The next time I awoke, the room was brighter, and my stomach was growling. The clock read half past one. Gran’s chair was empty, and I could hear the clanking of dishes in the kitchen. The delicious aroma of frying bacon wafted through the air.