A Short Story : A Story?

"What do we do?" I asked and then remembered what the old man said earlier, "There's nothing here for your friend. I gulped and said to Joseph, "You know Pan's secret. There's no life for you here now. Maybe we could fit you in the boat, and I could somehow ration out the pixie dust and we could go to London together, and start ov-"

He left the office and went straight to the bedroom. He was going to see if there was anything that he could change into, but he immediately just collapsed on the bed.

The man ran through the cold, biting rain. A run fueled by pure terror and adrenaline. Dashing down a ruined street corner, he finds refuge in a small, worn down building. Entering slowly, he looked around and seeing no threats, he deemed it safe. Using scattered pieces of broken wooden pieces, he started a small fire and began to dry his clothes as he waited for the end of the storm outside. He’s been through this before; at first, a sound like a rat scattering across the floor of an attic. After the sound is first heard, there is no stopping it. The sound continues, growing louder and louder until finally a figure jumps from the shadows, a man, identical to the man in appearance. After jumping from the shadow, he begins his ruthless attack on the man, but this isn’t the first time that he’s been through this. Using the flaming sticks from the fire, he fights back against the figure, but alas, no matter how hard he fights back he will always die.

“Yes?” There's no responce so I pad up the stairs to the bedroom. When I open the door he is sweating and there is a frown plastered on his face. “What's the matter?” I question.

“Why’s there a child in my bed?” Jinki questioned, walking out of his room and back into the main area of the flat, where Minho and Taemin were sitting at the island separating the living room, that was apparently made for dwarfs, from the kitchen that even ants would struggle to cook in (not that they cooked often, though - ordinarily they would order takeout or Teukie would drop food round and eat with them if he wasn’t busy dealing with his own problems).

My eyes widen in astonishment to hear we're the ones making her feel nervous, I'm practically quaking in my shoes. With faltering steps, Alice lead us towards the empty sofa, where we sit close together. Though the fire radiates enough heat to fill the room, I feel the chill around us emitting from the ice queen. A set of icy hands holds me to my seat, yet my spontaneous eyes gaze at the curious couple entertaining us this evening.

I did it, I finally killed him. Sarah thought to herself, with a feeling of adrenaline rushing through her body.

I woke up and my body was a raging swirl of fire. I had the worst dream yet. The government would find me and my little sister. They have been after me ever since September 2089. “Why are they after me,” you ask?

A light rain pitter-pattered against the windshield of Tom’s Mustang. Every few minutes, a burst of sunlight exploded through the clouds, creating gasoline rainbows in the opalescent puddles pitting the asphalt. Stifling a yawn, the young officer stared into the distance, his concentration waning with each passing mile. Maybe it was the hypnotic swish of the windshield wipers, or maybe, it was the knowledge he was about to face Booker for the first time since their disastrous date. Either way, his focus wasn’t on the road, and he failed to notice the red light. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a white sedan heading toward him, but it was too late for him to react. The vehicle crashed into his door, the impact spinning the car around and slamming it into a light post. With no seatbelt to protect him, his body jerked forward, the force smashing his temple against the windshield. A bolt of pain exploded inside his head, and he slumped against the steering wheel, the loud blare of the horn following him into oblivion.

He trudged deliberately slow, his steps hesitant and afraid. The girl behind him was silent. She ought to be, he thought bitterly. She was the one who caused this in the first place. He tried to form any other thoughts but the one idea that circled his head was of his utter demise. He squared his shoulders, awkwardly pushing out his lanky chest. The sound of wooden wheels clattering against the ground made him turn in anger. He brought his foot harshly and kicked her. She screamed, tumbling to the dirt. He smirked, some of his annoyance sent elsewhere. He continued to walk, listening to her small grunts of pain as she, he assumed, was trying to get back on her plank.

"No!" Screeched Traviata as she sat up straight sweat beading down her face and panting heavily.

“Hurry! It’s this way,” The young woman called back to her two companions as they raced up the barren landscape, a dark red, stiff foliage layering over the white soil beneath their feet. “Just over this ridge!”

Brianne rushed through the bright red  halls to meet up with her best friend Kristen. Kristen was the outgoing type of girl, the one who you could depend on in tough situations. In particular, last month  my parents got a divorce and she always stuck by my side. In other words she always made sure to cheer me up and make me laugh even if I felt like giving up. All of the sudden I felt a tug on my arm.

As I returned from my walk I hear voices, her voice seemed different; like she was relaxed and happy for once. I slammed the door open,”What are you doing,” I screamed. While grabbing the first thing I could find, two glass bottles, and stormed over to Van and whatever her name is.”You should learn that I always get my way. Be quiet and don’t fight me. You will be fine if you do what I tell you to do when I tell you.”I lifted up the first bottle and struck her first, but as it shattered over her head I heard a shriek of a high pitched noise right before she passed out. I stumbled back, stunned that such a horrid noise could come from such a small being. I just stared at her; she looked sad, but what did I care, this was fun. I picked up the other bottle and started to walk towards Van, he just looked at me and said,”Please no, please.” He was out within seconds of being hit.

Vanessa took the last step off of the bus. The doors swooshed behind her, and the instant they closed, the bus took off. To the left of her, she saw Becca and Steven chatting away. Or maybe just Becca talking off Steven’s ear. She sighed. It was obvious to anyone who paid attention, that Steven did not care to have a girlfriend. He just wanted sports. But Becca still tried hard to impress someone, that clearly wasnt impressed. Either way she felt bad for the poor boy.