A Short Story : A Story?

It was a cold and foggy wednesday morning on june 10th. Hunter was sleeping on his bed when he heard his mom call him.

I was just strolling out my room in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom when I heard the sound of someone in the kitchen knock something over. I nearly jumped five feet high when I heard the big boom. Immediately, I thought it was a burglar trying to steal our valuables. My heart was beating so loud, I was sure that whoever was in the next room could hear it. Despite my racing heart, I gather all the courage I had and sneaked into the kitchen. I

“I’m afraid of a house? That’s nonsense. Get yourself together, Casey. You heard the wind howling nothing more.”

        “Please keep quiet until we get to Willa. And if anyone asks who you are just say that you’re a friend of mine,” Walker instructs without looking at them. He’s too busy looking at the three-story house standing in front of him, one he never thought he’d see again.

At approximately 4:20 A.M., on the early morning of October 14, 2006, my family and I were awakened by an armed intruder. We were frightened and

Shortly after 2:10 a.m., emergency dispatchers received a call from woman at a house on Williamsburg Lane regarding a possible home invasion. According to police, the woman was hiding in the bathroom with

I looked at the police officer and he has the eyes of fury. He looked at us like we're some kind of fugitive. “You know our country does not allow citizens to go inside abandoned house,you four are in a lot of trouble” the officer says

Seeing how the cup they gave me was huge I started feeling very funny, kind of dizzy, I walked around looking for my friends while simultaneously checking out my surroundings. I catch up with my friends and tell them I’m ready to leave, I’m drunk off my ass and I’m already starting to feel sick; I just wanted to go home. We ended up not leaving and staying until about 1 in the morning, around 2-2:30 everything was put to a screeching halt when I along with everyone else heard the muzzled ringing of police sirens slowly growing louder and louder by the second. Immediately everyone scatters headed in what seemed like a million different directions my friends and I parked in the very front of the house causing us to be blocked in by the hundreds of cars so we had nothing to do except to run and hide. A few moments later we hear this loud

Casey wondered why Sean stayed. He did die young. What kind of unfinished business did he have? How can I help? Her eyes scanned the room. Was he here listening to their conversation?

Just as I opened the door three police officers came running in with guns in their hands.

As he sneaked crossed the hallway in silence making sure he heard no police sirens. ' I not getting caught today.' He thought, he neared room 132 that's when he heard a click. And the door eased open slowly, ' The police, run, run away' is the last thing he thought before a little head with black hair and blue eyes peeked thru. Charles had just got thru the door unnoticed, he closed the door as quietly as he could absolutely worried he would be caught. As he turned around he realized it was already too late a tall, thin, man was standing there smirking but Charles noticed he had a speck of fear in his eyes. Charles ran, ran not away from the intruder but away from his

Casey wandered into the dining room to take her place at the table. Stunned by Emily’s statement, she sat with her hands lying across her lap like an obedient child and glanced around at the other guests.

One by one the police started arriving at the scene. I knew that I could over power one cop but not anymore. I hit the gas in the car and took off. They were following me, I did not know what to do. Wait, think about the movies. That’s it, take someone hostage. I ran into a superstructure. I heard the police running through the door. I took cover behind a

Dante crept out of the room and shut the door to his home. The wind blew furiously at his black hair as he tried to keep up with the rest of the people. He let out a sigh of frustration and made his way through the crowds. In the distance, a girl not so young was shouting.

Frantically, I fumble for my phone, dropping it in a scarlet puddle and picking it up again. Call the police, that is what you are supposed to do. You want to be a good person, right?. You can’t call the police, or anyone, are you trying to land us back in there? In that damp, dark room, with nobody except yourself to talk to? Two opposing voices compete for my compliance. I try to reason with them but I can hardly hear either through the stressful whining in my ears. My fingerprints are on the weapon. I’m covered in her blood. I have no alibi. I’ve only just been released from prison and I am a criminal, charged and sentenced for assault. Calling the police would be the end of my newfound freedom. Even the end of my life. The phone falls once again from my shaking hands. I stumble backwards over a rock, falling, skin from my brow now on the stone, contaminating the crime scene even further. My chest is heaving. My liquefying legs make me feel sick. My fearful heart is in my mouth, trying to get out. The familiar sound of distant police sirens shrieks in my ears. I’m not sure if it is real or just a manifestation of my paralysing terror.