A Short Story : A Story?

Once, when I was a little girl, I fell, with a load of brushwood. An old man picked me up. He gave me a penny too. Isn’t it funny how people who don’t have very much like to give some of it away? They must like to show what they can do, and how could they show it better than by being kind? Being wicked is just like being clumsy. (Text)

The chill of winter air had nudged her from her slumber. Gazing through the window upon the dreary horizon, the blur of gray told Hulga that rain was nearing. Nervously, she backed into the corner away from the window and curled up next to a pile of hay and settled in. Soon after repositioning herself, Hulga heard the consistent patter of rain on the roof of the barn. Her eyes watered as she wondered if her mother had been frantically searching for her.

I told her to let me see. To my amazement she had just found a one hundred dollar bill. There were no other cars around or people. Miranda declared God had given it to her. She was extremely excited and I was confident God was looking out for her. It might sound silly, but I saw it as hope. Hope was hard to come by so I took all I could

As Mrs. Johnson is enjoying the wonderful weather, she hears the cry of a child. Mrs. Johnson turns to the sound and sees a mother trying to accomplish yard work while also attempting to calm her crying little girl. She walks up to the pair and asks “Could I help you with your daughter while you finish up?”

I stared at the money with the imagination of myself going to the convenient store on the way home but opened my mouth to say, “I can’t accept this.” She chuckled. “I didn’t think there were many people like you on Earth” she pleaded. How many kids do you know would turn down five dollars? She asked Mrs. Santos. Mrs. Santos laughs to say, mine wouldn’t!

She had forgotten her wallet on the timber coffee table in her cluttered apartment. She began digging through her purse scavenging for enough cash to pay the crabby cab driver. She found two twenty-dollar notes and sighed in relief, she spared herself the mortification of informing the driver she had no money.

The sun was high in the sky, gleaming down on us. The air was breezy, but not cold. The day was ordinary, or so it seemed. But what was out of place? That would be my brother, the only person who could possibly get himself into such a situation, with his impossible ability to almost die, but just miss the mark. As he sat there on the ground with his back to us, legs sprawled out in front of him, we didn’t even realize that there was anything wrong. Hold on a second. Let’s rewind this just a little.

Standing erect with the hidden treasure of pennies and nickels filling his feet, the rabbit waited for his little master all day. That afternoon the tow-headed seven year old ran into the room, with two hands firmly grasp his silent friend and gently shook it. With a grin of accomplishment, he slipped in five nickles and two dimes, again gently shaking it he knew his treasure would not crack his little friend. As days passes, deposits and withdrawals were frequent, and one day his friend stood empty and silent.

The light was shining on Evangeline's face as she opened her eyes. Her head was throbbing and as she looked around her, she didn't know where she was at. It wasn't until she saw Mason and Casey sleeping beside her on the pillows that she remembered everything. The dancing and food and the new hideout. The alcohol and the laughing. The bright light. The loud noises. Everything. The world has died back to normal, no longer having the sharp clarity it had the night before. Her mouth was really dry though, so she climbed down the ladder, trying not to wake the others. She quietly crept to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room and pulled out a glass of water. They didn't have any Tylenol, so this would have to do for now. She ungraciously chugged the bottle of water and sighed, plopping down on the nearest beanbag and closing her eyes.

I returned to my friend Megumi’s apartment on the fourth floor to retrieve my phone. When I arrived, the door was ajar. I was about to grab my phone from the varnished coffee table, until I saw someone, a girl, with her luscious hair wafted to the side on top of the veranda. I realised, she was jumping off into the lake below! What was she thinking? …But wait, could it be Megumi? This was her apartment after all. But surely she would not think to do something so dangerous…right? I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. Phew! I just narrowly caught her right hand and gripped it as tight as a rope. I looked down and…it was Megumi.

Mr. Johnson then replied “Oh that won’t be necessary, but I appreciate your kindness in helping me across the street.” Then he swiftly and sneakily stole her wallet from her purse and rushed away. She was dumbfounded about how he was suddenly able to walk fast, but simply shrugged it off and went about her day, not knowing that her wallet was gone until it was too late.

Hot Afghanistan air blew into the window as Andisha Kamil rolled out of bed. Groggily, she headed out to the kitchen to start her morning brew. She shook out her blanket and laid her soft gentle hand on her husband’s back, her signal to wake him up. Anything too violent, and he would be barking over her and beating Andisha to bruises with his stick. “Aarif,” sang her sweet mellow voice, “Aarif.” This cycle usually lasted until the scruffy-faced man rolled out of bed. Usually only greeting her with a grunt, Aarif always starts his morning off with coffee, which he then always complains is much too cold. “Nice to see you too,” Andisha grumbled, under her breath. Shaking off that feeling, she trekked across the room to wake Aamir, her 16-year-old son. Besides the little Aarif is able to earn from his cattle herding, Aamir is the main source of income for the family. Without him, there is no food, and no food leads to an unhappy Aarif.

“No! You don’t understand.” Evan shook his head and tightened his fist. Unacceptable, absolutely unacceptable. His patience waned. Like standing barefoot in low tide, he could feel the sand being sucked between his toes, only it was every ounce of self-control he possessed.

1780. Boom! It was miserable and painful. Blood from people’s body were everywhere and tears running down Iv’s face. She could feel herself becoming weaker and weaker. She struggled to move away the branches that were dugged into her skin and the arrow that was in her legs. “Mom! Dad!” they laid on the ground. She reached out to wake them, her mom felt cold and frail. She wasn’t breathing, both of them weren’t, Ivy started to weaken, she felt her arms and legs slowly getting weaker until suddenly, everything went black.

That same morning on the other side of the town Bryana was being bombarded with countless questions from interviewers. The petite blonde could barely understand the mathematical questions being hurled at her. She quietly stood helpless in the middle of the Supreme store, surrounded by reporters.