A Short Story : A Story?

I was four years old when my sister, Sarah, was born. I was five when she died.

“I’m off to work!” Cole shouts to his parents as he closes the house door behind him.

The house was warm but cold I glanced in the book as I thought where is my best friend my twin I need her right this second. We needed to talk but then mom walked into the room saying dinner is ready we are having my favorite lamb and mash potatoes, but the thought was still why doesn’t she talk about him did he do something wrong or was it her but I wish I could know. My sister showed up just in time.

The bus was going down the street, carrying students to hell, or what some people call school. Keith just happened to be one of those kids stuck on the bus. Keith didn't know anybody on the bus, so he sat alone in the front. The bus soon came to a halt in front of the school, and the students flooded off. Keith was one of the last people off, since he couldn't get through the line of people blocking the exit.

“Draco, I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal about this,” Pansy complained. “I’m cheer captain, it just makes sense that I congratulate the guy who scored the winning touchdown!”

It was the third time Nana had sprinted to the bathroom that day. She could not remember the last time she didn't feel her guts tumbling inside her and the intense metallic flavor invading her mouth. Could this be the jinn? she wondered, but then his face materialized in her mind, and her palms began to sweat. This became something almost routinary for her the following weeks, it was easy to conceal her secret without anyone noticing.

The water is still and calm. Most days the water is chaotic and bitter. Crashing into the rotting pier. Today I walk out on the pier alone, but a few weeks ago I would have been with my best friend. Practically my sister, but since the accident I’ve been more alone than ever. She was hit by a car. That day Sophia convinced me that we needed to go shopping. Normally I wouldn’t say yes, but today was a good day. My mom finally was going to let me go to Chicago without parent supervision. Sophia was going to take me. We were walking in the crosswalk on the road to get to the new store across the street. Sophia was ahead of me so I yell out

“Year 4, day… I… Don’t remember. This is a message to anyone who finds this. The IFM is screwed up; I’m fed up with their lies. I’ve… Seen things. They are using us as their lab rats… Their, toys. I’ve decided to run. I can’t stay another day knowing that abominations like what I saw are out there. I don’t know where I’m going to go, but to anyone who hears this, I advise you run too.”

Blair Winston, a seventeen-year-old tall, pale, lanky boy with brown hair and brown eyes, had a very normal like in Silverton, Colorado, population 638. Blair woke up with the orangish-yellow sun and made his way to the gray windowless, prison-like schoolhouse. When he was finished with school he would make his way to his two-bedroom brick house and start on the never-ending list of chores that his mother and father makeup. He grew uncontrollably discontent with his boring life and longed for a life full of adventure, thrill, and excitement.

It was a dark cool early morning in Fairmount. This was a rich neighborhood with houses the size of mansions. The people who lived there were mainly CEO’s of a business or doctors. Somewhere near the middle of the neighborhood was a very large house home to a single mother, Emma Thompson, and her 5 year old daughter, Ruby Thompson. It was somewhere around 3:00am When Emma woke up. The song that an ice cream truck plays woke her up. Ice cream trucks never came through this neighborhood and if they did they definitely would not be driving through a neighborhood at 3:00am. Emma had never heard an ice cream truck before, but somehow she knew how this specific truck’s song would end. At the very end of the song it was sound like a toy slowly dying. Emma made sure Ruby was still asleep and went outside to see what was going on. Once she got outside the ice cream truck was gone and the song had died away as well. Like any normal person, Emma thought she had just imagined the whole thing, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that she had heard that ice cream truck before and it's song that always messed up at the end.

For Eliasyn all she wanted was to go to National City it had been on her calendar all week, she had even asked her boss Tess “Mercy” Mercer if she could have a few days off. Of course, it was a week without pay and she'd have to be back earlier Monday morning. She never thought that she'd once again be back in Metropolis. Walking through the garden Eliasyn turned on her heels to look at Diana the woman that her father always spoke so highly of. “Lucky YOU!” Eliasyn exclaimed before laughing nervously. “I was forced to attend this stupid little event in his honor again. I mean he wrote another article about someone Superman goes up again and he gets an award. UGH! If only people weren't so blind.” Eliasyn growled under her breathe before hearing the words come from Diana's mouth about what she was capable of doing.

Cander is calm now. As he walks closer the reflection from the door impairs his vision. He keeps walking closer and the lights only get brighter. Cander shields his eyes as if he were looking at the sun.

The stream was calm, fresh morning dew on the ground, the smell of sweat flowers in the air, and the smell of the flour on the other side of the river. My friend, Jason, and I, Marisa were walking to my Uncle Lidtke’s mill across the bridge. We would walk there every Saturday to watch the workers and my uncle would make us a great meal with bread that was made from the flour from the mill.

“What the hell are you doing?” She took off her boots, and tried to follow his voice.

Darkness envelops me with the sound of a slamming trunk. The engine starts, and I wonder if my luck will be any different.