A Short Story : A Story?

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

he jungle gave way to the lithe figure, running and jumping through the alien thicket, dodging and turning in her way to the familiar site. Even at such speed, probably with more reason, her eyes were watchful, alert. The low plants with the wide leaves and blue spots were harmless and edible, a brush with the tall red sprigs of the reeds in humid areas caused a fever. In the daylight such things were easy to distinguish even in a hurry, but it also meant that she had to be careful with the predators like the one chasing her.

She slowly turned around and began limping back up the mountainous terrain. I couldn’t bear to watch this kind old lady begin a dangerous journey without someone or something accompanying her. My instinct was to help her, I searched for the nearest stick that was around her waist height. I found a branch that was the perfect size for her and quickly followed the trail of semi-crunchy squashed leaves that she had left behind. I hopped around her, stopping her in the middle of her pathway and gave her the stick.

“Jill! Wait up!”. It was nearly midnight with grey clouds looming overhead, yet Jill’s blonde hair glowed against the darkness of the forest. Her ponytail trailed behind her as she ducked and weaved through thick bushes and the trunks of trees. "Jill!" the Boy panted - fog rising into the night's brisk air. Jill climbed atop a shelf of rocks before stopping in her tracks.

The leaf litter underneath crunched and crackled as Colette approached the border. She ducked beneath the lowest branches of the trees, maneuvered around the shrubbery that blocked her path. She closed her eyes when she felt the gust of cold air. Her feet dug into the soil, gaining small footholds as she carefully navigated through tricky foliage. Stray beams of moonlight dappled her shirt, and the eerie silence kept her focused—alert. She could hardly hear her own breath, but that was largely out of her own volition. She chose to hold her breath, exhaling slowly as her eyes scanned what had been in front of her.

At the time, I had huddled behind a sandstone shelf, flanked by three of my fellow watchman, Kyro, Vasalisa, and Orinth. They mumbled things under their breath, their lips glowing soft hues as they communicated the events of that dreadful day back to our base. More and more rockets came, and my heart sank deeper each time one of those dreadful demonic daematins touched my once treasured dust. I hate them. One rocket. How dare they come. A second. They have destroyed the third planet and now they have come to destroy this one too. The last rocket landed, sending a gust of wind out from beneath it as it made an unpleasant “thunk”. My iridescent hair had whipped in the draft, imparing my vision. But through the whipping willows I saw a sight that almost killed me. I wanted to run, scream, hide, do something, but I stayed still, very still, and watched in horror as a tall stocky booted man stepped foot on that damned

The pace set was much quicker, as if they walked with a mission. Every couple steps that Frisk took they snapped a fallen branch. The resounding crunch never failed to make them flinch and look around wildly. They stopped analyzing the forest for movement and only continuing when there was none. Rays of the sun which once felt warm were now suffocating under the sweater consequently drowning them with their sweat. Frisk continued on despite the many distractions, though their face was pulled tight with worry. They continued as if getting to the top would stop their fear, the quick pace continued to a jog. The trees moving past them in a slow blur. Suddenly they tripped on a thick root, falling with a loud thud. Frisk quickly got up, ignoring the pain in their knees as trickles of blood ran slowly down their legs, giving frisk’s jeans a pink-red

    She finally decided to stand up and start looking around. Her bare feet hitting the ground with sharp branches and rocks. Her long black hair moving all sorts of ways as the wind blew hard. She walked

Will laughed as if he’d just heard he’d beat cancer. When he was done he got out and switched seats. “Take me to the money, and stay under the speed limit.”

Josh woke up with shivers down his spine. He thought that was odd, because usually he woke up and had to go pee. Nevertheless he rolled over, on his bed and checked his alarm clock. He hopped out of bed, and took two steps toward the door, and felt a moist, squishy texture under his feet.

Jordan shoved a large prickly tree branch out of her way. She let out an exasperated sigh, carrying on down the worn down dirt route through the spruce forest. Her pesky, for the most part, friends were traveling through the woods to get away from the drama at their small, practically run-down, the village in the mountains. Jordan was furious. Her parents had issues, and never even thought about her. A long time ago, her parents were married and happy. She was about six when her parents started to fight. They fought to no end, and eventually, things got nasty. Her parents divorced when she was ten. She knew what was going on, so it hurt her even more. Her bed was moved into her mom's room, and her dad slept in her room. Eventually, he moved out. She only sees him two times a month now, but that's never enough. He remarried two years later.

Nat pulled a stool forward and sat down and leaning forward put the cigarette up to the top of the flame. The flame lapped at the cigarette for a while until the end glowed red like the embers of the fire. Nat withdrew the cigarette from the flame, put it up to his mouth, hesitating, then sighed and gently put the cigarette in between his lips, hanging downwards, as he drew in a deep breathe, allowing the smoke to fill his mouth. He gently blew out and watched the blue-grey smoke fill the air around him.

It was November 3rd, 1864 in Greensboro Alabama. Cold and snowy on a Sunday morning. I looked outside and noticed the cotton fields covered with snow and turned to Master Lee and said "Sir, it's snowing what are we going to do about the field". He looked at me with a smirk on his face and began to laugh as he said "Why you worried about the damn snow, get to washing my clothes". As I walked away in silence, heading up the steps to get the dirty clothes I noticed little Johnny in the room crying. "Little Johnny what's the matter, I said as I stood outside his bedroom door". But little Johnny didn’t respond. He didn’t even bother to look up at me, so I walked out and went on to wash the clothes.

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.

I always hated that bitter taste when I wake in the morning. I dared myself not to open my eyes in my small apartment. I put on my glasses, washed my black hair, and fed my husky Chloe …and that was when I got the call. I rushed to the office to respond as quickly as possible. “When did you get the call,” answered Kyle. “7:30-I think,” I said. We both entered the boss's office to discuss what had happened. “Kyle and Mary, I have some bad news,” the boss said. “I know,” I replied. “Me too,” followed Kyle