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.

“You live here?” He sounds almost astonished, or maybe just doubtful. His voice is still flat and cold, although there was dozens of questions he probably had. This man clearly wasn’t a team player. On closer examination, I realize he is a man. When he was out, his face appeared much younger, innocent. That was the harsh reality of this world, this man had been through an immense amount of pain, I noticed it in his eyes.

The peal of Estelle Louise’s laughter made Clemmy Sue smile. Usually they talk nonstop, but tonight they ride in silence and contemplate what Miss Ta Rot had told Estelle

The flood of emotions tumbles out. A stream of questions, one after another, is rapidly fired at him - where did he go, why did he leave, and most importantly, why didn’t he say goodbye? All this time she’d spent waiting in the past, suspended in time, unable to receive any semblance of closure or composure. All the pent up emotions rush out of her and guilt flashes in his eyes. "Let’s go inside first,” he says, “I’ll explain what I

I could hear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt I must scream or die!” At that moment, the narrator was consumed by his insanity and emotions; eliciting his confession and exposing the body of the old

“I didn’t mean to scare ya. I-I jus’ needed to talk to you… About somethin’.” He stuttered, looking at his hands, which were worn from working in the fields. He dug his toe into the ground like a little boy trying to tell his mom he broke her favorite vase. “It’s about Lila. She’s not dead.” He looked into her eyes and let out a deep breath as if he had been holding it. As if, he had been holding that fact in all day just waiting for it to come out. He practically jumped on his toes when he finished.

As Earlene held Augustine, the guilt that she had carried seemed to have begun to stab her repeatedly, she feels a little better telling the child somewhat of the truth. Whyyyyyy? Why did they have to kill my mother? said Augustine still is crying heavily. Earlene at the moment a loss of words at this point, looked at Augustine, and said you know you have a family that cares, and loves you they treat you as if you were their own. No, they don't. Augustine replied fiercely. They have lied to me this entire time. Augustine would then pull away from Earlene, and would begin to slowly walk backward. Now, remember, you promised me you wouldn't go to act out on what I have told you, said Earlene now basically pleading with Augustine. Augustine would then look at Earlene with her eyes glazed over, all she could feel now was immense hurt, and pain and she didn't know how to tend to it. Augustine would afterward turn around, and run out the room; dart passes everyone in the house and makes her way outside. Joseph, and Elizabeth both saw this. They would both look at one another, as they knew at the moment that Augustine had found out the very thing they tried for so long to keep a secret had now been

He tells the reader “...and observe how healthily-how calmly I can tell you the story…” This opening gives the reader a sense of uneasiness, but is fairly calm. The tension rises as the narrator is looking through the door at the old man and he wakes up and panics. It then eases back down with the narrator holding still and waiting. All of a sudden he sees the man’s eye and goes into

The man's lips pursed as he attempted to gauge her inner thoughts in the brief time it took Analise to provide it. He'd seen the way she had appraised him, and an eyebrow had raised. What was she expecting? For him to have "murderer/rapist" stamped on his forehead? That image caused

When she pushed the door of the shop open, the aroma of coffee beans started to circle around her. She finds her friend Emn sitting and waiting for an order. Immediately, she bursted into a river of tears.

Alone; Esme is isolated and frightened as she wakes, her head pounding like a hammer has taken to her skull. Her fingers brush across the floor beneath her, wood, splintering and rough to touch. Her eyes snap open as they scan the horizon just beyond the small rowboat, and it is this moment that arms wrapped around her frame and hand covers her mouth. Every scream she lets out is stifled by the glove, every fiber in her being wants to fight, but she has barely healed from choking incident. Every limb is heavy, but he continues to carry her with ease. No matter how many time she shouts for Marcus, her words get caught in her throat and lost before reaching her tongue.

Aside from the constant changes to her surrounding in reality conspired to what she dreamt of, it felt unsettlingly real. Something bad was bound to happen soon, she knew it. Looking back to JJ, she smiled slightly, hiding the beginnings of fear that had rooted themselves, unwelcome, in the back of her mind.

Chloe inched away from him until she was resting against the cold stone wall at the back of her cell. Flynn sighed and Chloe heard him move to the other cells and converse quietly with his parents for a few minutes before leaving. Chloe felt utterly betrayed and empty. First Kassandra had betrayed her, she had been thrown in prison, and then to top it all off Flynn had been lying to her this entire time. She needed to escape this madhouse as soon as possible, no matter the odds, no matter the consequences. This wasn’t her perfect world at all; this was her worst nightmare. Her tears were still tracing hot salty paths down her face as she raised her head slightly to glance at Sasha and August. They were sitting peacefully back to back, hands grasped together, the cold bars separating them miles away. August sat with his eyes closed and a contented smile playing on his lips as if there were no place he would rather be sitting in than this god-awful dungeon. His love for his wife was so evident that even Chloe could not ignore it. Chloe struggled with her repressed emotions as that small flame within her heart grew larger and larger until it exploded, turning her heart into a white-hot furnace. Gasping Chloe surged upwards and grasped

After bandaging her hand, she threw on a clean blouse, buttoning it all the way to the collar. She grabbed the bloodstained letter from top of her dresser, using it as a dustpan to scoop the broken mirror into the bathroom trash can. Exhausted she closed the lid and sat on the toilet seat. She traced her name written on the front of the letter with her index finger. Shocked by the news of his senseless death, she had refused to open Marcum’s letter. Now she wondered what would have happened if she had said “yes” to his proposal. She wouldn’t be in this financial mess. She’d have a beautiful home and wouldn’t be facing life alone. She wouldn’t have to worry about how she was going to feed her children. She turned the envelope over. “I wonder if he left me any money?” She slipped her long fingernail into the corner of the envelope ready to tear it open—then

She became angry, violently so, a flame burning its brightest before the end. She demanded the blue-eyed nurse reassigned from her care and sloppily ripped out her IVs. However, she was too weak to stand without help. I calmed her as only I could by forcing her to look deep into my eyes. The fires in her own faded as they always did. She couldn’t help but to stoke my jawline in admiration of its squared symmetry. She mumbled incoherently, but I knew her well enough to translate.