A Short Story : A Story?

Through details, choice of words and especially the style in which this story is written, Callie, the narrator, guides our responses as well as our views of the events and people. From Callie “…remember[ing] exactly”(1) how it all started to finally telling us that she “…want[s] to get better”(150) we grow to understand what caused her sense of hopelessness and how she came to deal with wanting to cut herself.

That moment seemed to last forever and it would always be burned in my memory, and I would never forgive myself for it. In that moment, I had slightly veered off my lane without noticing, then one second later there was a deafening succession of noises that hit me like a tidal wave. A mixture of crunching metal, glass tinkling as it shattered, and Harper screaming my name. The pain didn’t even register in my brain. I opened my eyes and my vision was hazy, but I panicked, screaming for Harper. My vision was fading, but I finally caught a glimpse of Harper’s face, covered in blood, before my whole world had gone black. I missed that girl more than anything. She made my job as a nurse feel more important, she had given me purpose and brought happiness into my life. Harper was also the reason I refused to drive anymore. As I thought about her my eyes swelled, and I knew that if I let one tear fall then it would be an unending stream. I had to be strong, that’s all she’d every encouraged for me. So I got off at my stop and remained staid as I opened the door to the hospital; the glint of a bracelet Harper had given me caught my eye as my arm

It was a weekday in September when I came home from school, said goodbye to my family and didn’t come back for two weeks, but that was the first time, in all I was gone for a month and a half. Abington Memorial Hospital was welcoming, but it didn’t matter how distracted I was, I couldn’t escape myself. “Life begins where fear ends”, but it was a different story for me, when the fear of myself stopped, that would be because I would’ve done what I was terrified of and what I wanted the most, to let the rain

Waiting in the courtyard with my band one last visit before they go off to college, a representative of the Emily Program walks towards me explaining what the procedure was. Knowing the other two would pay attention I look around at the surroundings and in the corner I notice an orange tree, I wonder if that is where Skylar sits when she gets a free period. A caramel hand slips into mine and I look up to see the pianist pulling me with the representative into the building. As we walk through the maze of corridors we stop at a room, or a jail. The gray room is eerie and as we step into the room we see Skylar, her frame dwarfed by the band shirt she’s wearing. Hearing the door open she looks up her face hollow and her eyes no longer hold the same sparkle. As my eyes catch hers the wish that I was stronger for her resurfaces, as if she can sense my thoughts she quickly raises and beckons me to her. Three strides and I hug her pulling her frail form into my body. Her bony hands hold me close. I feel her thin lips near my ear and her husky voice brushes against my earlobe, “You are so strong, I’m sorry sweetie I was weak”. I feel the guilt and self-loathing that has built up finally leave my body as I clung to her frame. Knowing that she never blamed me, I was finally able to accept my actions, as those of a child, a child scared and afraid to lose the person that meant the most

When he left Haig to meet and greet all the staff, Doctor Pax strode over to a plain wooden door in

I was walking next to Herman on the way back to my room from lunch. I rounded the corner and saw her standing by Anthony. She had hair the color of honey. Her wispy bangs fell above her sparkling blue eyes. When she smiled I felt a rush of emotions fly through me. She has a lovely soft voice that could soothe the most worried of people.

On one cold winter 's morning Bethany woke up to the most familiar sound “beep beep beep”. She pulled herself out of bed and rolled her feet into worn out pink slippers she had gotten five years ago for christmas. She dragged herself to the white bathroom where most of her tears would be shed and then lead herself darkest closet full of black and got dressed for the day. She had to remember to wear long sleeves to hide the scars that brought her the most daunting thoughts. She then had straightened the hair that most people envied to have. After all that she had to drag herself up the stairs that seemed so

“Oh no, let Autumn know I’m here if she wants to talk.” The youth counselor, Misty, shook her head in dismay and quickly walked to her office. During my summer internship at the Stockbridge-Munsee Health and Wellness Clinic after my junior year, it was my first day in the Mohican Family Center, a place where community members are free to play games or speak with a counselor. I watched Autumn enter the doors, concerned about what to expect from a seemingly healthy young woman. She smiled politely and eagerly began to write in her notebook. As she began crying, I walked across the room to comfort her. Unexpectedly, she spoke happily about the cheesecake she had enjoyed earlier for dessert, then rapidly shifted about the overwhelming burden

Those words replayed over and over again in Jim´s mind, but then when he looked at the photo of Della, he knew what he had to do. The pawn shop would be closed by the time Jim got off work, so he had to convince his boss that he was sick so he could leave. Ironically once he got outside his thin jacket didn't protect him enough from the cold, so he began to develop a cough and runny nose.

It took an entire day for Tony to open his eyes again. An entire day of Loki holding his hand, caressing his hair and fretting over his unconscious genius. There is no need to mention how relieved Loki felt when he finally opened his eyes.

Skkkkkrrrrrrreeeeeeeee!! The coffee pot screamed with morning glee as Jacob continued brushing his teeth at a gradually growing pace. His eyelids drooped with no intention of returning to their previous state he was once in at his youth. Jacob, spitting out some pasty foam with a repetition of rinses, heard the coffee pot squeal with frustration. He was reminded Jacob once more of its overdue pour.

The old rusting car shook as it rocked up the unpaved road leading the way up the hill. Crunching on gravel as it crawled along the car came to a stop. The driver side door swung open as a stubby old man wearing a peach colored coat exited his car to be meet by the dull light of the moon and the sound of distant waves. The man began slowly walking towards the sound of the waves until he was stopped by a steep and sudden drop off into a sea down below. The old man let off a grunt as he swung his legs over the side of the drop and sat down to stare at the water.

It was a nice summer day, my 5-year-old son Sam was playing outside in the backyard of our suburban home. Sam has always been a quiet boy, he plays by himself mostly, he never had many friends, but he has always had a wild imagination. I was in the kitchen feeding our dog Dakota, when I heard what sounded like Sam talking to someone in the backyard. I’m not sure who it was he could be talking to, could he have finally made a friend? Being a single mom it’s hard for me to always keep an eye on my son, so I decided to go outside and check on him. When I went into the backyard I was a bit confused, because Sam was the only person back there. Was he talking to himself? I could have sworn I heard another voice. “Sam! It’s time to come inside.” I called out to him. He came inside and sat down at the kitchen table, it was about lunchtime so I decided to make him a sandwich. “Sam. Who were you talking to out there?” I asked. Sam looked up for a moment, “I was playing with my new friend,” he said smiling. I poured him some milk and continued to pry, as any good mother would. “Does your friend have a name? Why didn’t you ask him to have lunch with us?” I asked. Sam stared at me for a moment before replying, “His name is Funny Man.” I was a bit taken back by what he had said. “Oh? That’s a strange name. What does your friend look like?” I asked a bit confused. “He’s a clown. He has long hair and a big swirly cone nose. He’s got long arms, with stripy socks, and he always smiles.” I

It all began with a simple phone call one Monday night after dinner. Lorenzo, my father hollered up the stairs, “it’s for you. It’s Alex, and he sounds anxious.” As I came downstairs to pick up the phone, I was curious, I was tired and had looked forward to a nice quiet evening at home, not another stupid adventure adventure with Alex. Thirty minutes later, however, Alex’s silver Mustang convertible swung into our driveway, and Alex was leaning on the horn before the car came to a full stop. Grabbing my coat from the couch, I walked out my front door with all enthusiasm as if I had a long-boring day of school ahead of me. As I got in the car Alex says, “it’s about Corey, he got a call saying his father was in a car accident.”

July 21st, 2015.. I first read, “Megan, you know I love you more than anything in the whole entire world but I can't be with you anymore, I just want to focus on myself”. All I could think was this was a nightmare. It wasn't true.. It broke off, my world has shut down, everything was black.. I felt I had just got my heart ripped out of my chest and thrown on the ground. The feeling in my throat where I couldn't even swallow from crying so hard. I cried to where I couldn't cry anymore.