A Short Story : A Story?

Short Story Today is Friday, October 30th and I’m biking home from school with Calum and Natalia, my best friends. It is a warm and sunny day, well enough to wear my favorite shorts. I am about to turn onto my street when I called out, “See you tomorrow and make sure you don’t come unprepared. We need to give Henry a piece of our minds.” “Don’t worry, we know,” Calum hollered out to me. “See you tomorrow, Chlo,” they said in sync. I reached my house and dropped my bruised, blue bike in the middle

Short Stories: Creative writing The dark place Supper was always at six o’clock. Our one meal of the day, the highlight of our day. One stale slice of bread and one small pot of cold rice some suspected wasn’t even rice. A cup of water was also allowed to aid in washing down the miniscule amount of putrid food. Drinking the water thought could cause typhus. Supper was never a sufficient amount of food but it kept us breathing and denied us the energy we needed to attempt or even plan an escape

One thing that’s great about short stories is how quickly they can ruin your life. Maybe you start reading one over your lunch break and, if it’s the right one, before that peanut butter cup you brought for dessert even has a chance to finish its melting shape-shift into some kind of sugary cement, the whole world has been destroyed around you and then rebuilt, and nothing is quite the same again. This happens whether you like it or not. Great stories practice this violent beauty on you in a variety

“Of course!” I yelled as I leapt over the glass and onto my bed. I had ran into my bookshelf that held my 30 pound mirror, which was now in pieces all over the floor, my bed and everything else. It wasn’t the first time I had broken a mirror so I wasn’t very surprised. It was just my luck. “How am I going to clean this up?” I ask Meaghan. I facepalm and sigh as loud as possible to show how annoyed I am, but then I realize that there is blood on my hand. I see a cut on my knee, just a scratch, no

The wind whooshes, sobbing and embarrassed Yollie runs and runs. Without even lifting her head up to see Yollie rushes through the small park, through Henry Avenue, to the farthest right home. Blood gushing through her feet, knees scraped by branches. She knocks on the door of her small house, she hears footsteps. ¨Hola¨! says Mrs.Moreno before she sees Yollie. Horrified she places a large, hand on Yollie.¨Move it¨ Yollie yells. yelled Yollie pushing Mrs. Moreno aside. She stormed into the

And there you have it. That is the story of how I got on this beanbag. But don’t worry, now that you are all caught up, we can both be surprised by all the action that will hopefully come! After 10 minutes of writing, I decided to explore. I got up and walked around. “Where are you going?” Anna asked. “To explore,” I uttered, “what are you gonna do?” “Stay here,” she replied. “Ok, but if you get scared, I won’t be here to comfort you,” I mentioned. “I don’t need any comfort from you,” Anna

next to the phone and started to pack after asking Annie if she wanted to go with her. The next day they finally arrived at the house and parked their car on the left side of the driveway. “Whoa!” Annie gasped as she looked at their three story mansion. “Hello sweetie we can talk tomorrow, right now we have to leave, your room is on the top floor first room to the right.” Her grandmother said in a rush. “We love you.” Her grandfather said frantically as if he was in a hurry to leave. The

When the clock struck 2:00, Herthe and the boy were walking away from the school and to their next destination. Unsurprisingly, the boy grew hungry, and Herthe decided that it was best to eat at a restaurant. Doing so, they would be able to bring leftovers home. Her phone made a “ding-ding” sound, indicating a text message. Herthe pulled her phone out of her pocket and found that Vivian sent her a message. Hey, you heading somewhere to eat? Nodding her head slightly in understanding, Herthe typed

“If anyone can hear me...we”--cough, cough-- “ we... this much smoke in here, we gotta...we gotta get out,” the man screamed. “I heard you..I’m”--cough, cough-- “I’m coming towards you!” a woman hollard. “What’s your name?” the man asked. “Jessica,” she answered. “Alright, Jessica, hold onto me, okay,” he said.”We’re getting out.” “Okay, but I’m scared,” said Jessica. “It’s okay, we’re going to be fine, I just”--cough-- “We just need to open the exit door, can you do that?” “Yeah”--cough-- “I can

It was 7:00 am on a bright Saturday morning when I finally experienced my worst fear. I was dazed and confused, just a few minutes ago I was with my three best friends and knew what my surroundings were. The only memory I have is leaving my friends house. Everything from then on is lost to my mind. It was dusk, nearly 7 pm when Maddie and her friends finally reached the end of the old abandoned railroad track. It was a Saturday and they planned on having a sleepover that night. It was once a beautiful