A Short Story : A Story?

However the brightness of the day may have dimmed, but not the joy from the people around me.  Everyone is either watching kids play basketball on the old wooden framed basketball hoop or enjoying a match of badminton while the zip-line flies by overhead.  The night however, does bring a mood about the people of the island.  It's a mood of vigor and excitement!  When the sun is beginning to set and the sky portrays a magnificent array of yellows reds and pinks which reflects off the water making a sort of etched painting glistening in the falling sun.  As the sun sets, dinner has just finished and we all part our ways,  many people sit on the back porch overlooking the water, a few go into to the square where people begin to prep for the glorious bonfire.  Although, I choose to sit in Toad Hall, this place is constructed out of old slender burned wooden planks, that have five little rooms cut out inside.  Toad Hall on the outside looks like a little ranch style home with wooden slabs on the outside along with a red tin roof, which is where I like to call my second home.  As dinner comes to an end so does the daylight.  As I walk out of Toad Hall a dark haze has consumed the island and I am excited by the smell of  burnt pine coming from a ferocious.  The fire has seemed to brought people out to see what the light is, buts it's when they arrive they are surprised to see the glorious fire which has brought people together around the old brick fire pit.  Here we tell stories, sing songs and make s'mores until it is pitch black and the crowd has slowly dispersed into their cabins or tents and it is now I say my goodnights to my family and friends and tread my way back on the dirt path.  I can see the gazebo, as I bank the corner, it stands tall in the moonlight and the water has

“Uh, yeah! Sure!” When I knew I was l alone I ran all over town looking for the source of the snow. I finally found it at an abandoned warehouse just outside of town. I waited a couple of seconds before saying something but before I could, someone spoke.

As the wind brushed the back of my dress, I turned around to overlook the waves of golden ocean, pouring into the small town I called home. But, my eyes became fixed on the sun. It was so wonderful, so beautiful as it rose out of its slumber in the mountains. I always felt the sun’s warmth on my cloudy white dress, and I loved how it always felt like my father’s hugs.

It was almost midnight when he tossed a log on the fire and excused himself to turn in. Lauren made herself comfortable on the cot, but she was afraid to sleep. The tears flowed then, a sad sense of loss and frustration.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated over and over. I watched for weeks as my mother slowly turned into someone unrecognizable. My grandparents pulled my sister and me into the office, shutting the door tightly behind us. Little did I know in that moment, just before the words left her mouth, my childhood would be over.

We were in a meadow, sprinkled with stale leaves, empty of color. In the center of the clearing, a bonfire was burning bright. Once again, I smelt the sweet but bitter scent, swirling through the air. The flames flickered and twisted, reaching higher each time. The color in the flames faded from a vibrant blue, just at the base, to the lightest of yellows, with every shade of red and orange melting in between. Stepping through the overgrown meadow brush, we make our way to the log benches surrounding the fire, and sat side by side. The heat of the fire danced across my skin, making up for every chill in the air on our journey here. My growing goose bumps vanished in the coziness and

It was a dark cool early morning in Fairmount. This was a rich neighborhood with houses the size of mansions. The people who lived there were mainly CEO’s of a business or doctors. Somewhere near the middle of the neighborhood was a very large house home to a single mother, Emma Thompson, and her 5 year old daughter, Ruby Thompson. It was somewhere around 3:00am When Emma woke up. The song that an ice cream truck plays woke her up. Ice cream trucks never came through this neighborhood and if they did they definitely would not be driving through a neighborhood at 3:00am. Emma had never heard an ice cream truck before, but somehow she knew how this specific truck’s song would end. At the very end of the song it was sound like a toy slowly dying. Emma made sure Ruby was still asleep and went outside to see what was going on. Once she got outside the ice cream truck was gone and the song had died away as well. Like any normal person, Emma thought she had just imagined the whole thing, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that she had heard that ice cream truck before and it's song that always messed up at the end.

Grabbing Bitsy’s arms, I yank her out as the elevator doors clap shut and throw her over my shoulder while I am still running; my feet hit the stairs like a jackhammer drilling into concrete, my feet hitting so intensely my shins ache. First one step at a time, panic sets in deeper and I pound up the stairs two at time, the fiery smoke filling and burning my lungs the whole time. If we make it to the roof we are safe; sweat drips around my neck, falling down my spine and building up at my hands. I see grey clouded light, almost to the top. The sharp wind punches my face, but I do not realize I am safe until Bitsy screams, “Daddy look at the sky! It’s dark, but it isn’t night!” I swallow the lump in my throat, the lump that’s my past, present, and future, the lump that is worth millions of dollars, the lump that left everything it ever had. I swallow the lump in my throat, and I choke back the tears, the same tears that burned my face when I told Momma and Pop-Pop that I was leaving for America. I swallow the lump in my throat, I choke back the tears, and I take a deep breath, but all I taste is smoke. I whisper, “Bitsy, Mimi, my love, if you pray very, very hard, God might hear you and the sun could come out again.” Isaac Harris my business partner of many years clips over, and mutters, “Blanck, we really should have listened to the Ladies’ Garment Worker’s Union because this might cost our lives.” All I can do is nod my head slowly in agreement as I watch the

The audible silence in the bank was shattered with the screech of a car outside the doors of the bank. Jason had been captivated by the daylight that rushed away and brought darkness. When five men with very creepy clown masks broke through the doors in a quick manner and ordered the patients and tellers to the ground. They warned everyone that it would be wise not to touch any emergency buttons or dial any cellphones. One of the gunmen had shot his fully automatic gun in the air to both show that it was real, and encourage people to cooperate. Jason was face down near the counter when he glanced up at one of the gunmen with a money bag; he caught a glimpse of a blue tattoo, but was unable to make out the shape of it. The man noticed the movement of Jason’s head and walked towards him with obvious anger.

Flashback:.Michelle sat down on a bench, next to a woman. She was very skinny with pale skin and her face was covered with the shadow of the cape on her head .The woman pointed her large, skinny fingers towards Michelle .She muttered some words under her breath.Without a warning, the woman disappeared and left no trace of her existence there.Michelle had knots in her stomach and felt like her head was spinning. She could not understand what happened and why the woman was pointing at her.

Susan was a petite young woman with a meek exterior and a raging fire inside. It was a fire of excitement, of adrenaline and thrill seeking. Today, she sought to feed that fire. There was a rock wall, located in a sprawling state park, that boasted to be one of the most dangerous in the state. It ran along a powerful water fall and was not for the faint of heart. One might be surprised, by looking at her, that she would attempt such a thing. But she had conquered white rapids and triathlons, and today she would conquer this.

“ Emma” I woke up to my mom calling to me.“Yes” I answered as I climbed out of my very messy, unmade bed and made small efforts to clean it up.“C'mon, we have to go!” my mom told me.“What!? Where?” I asked and then remembered that today was the day that we were going to my Grandma's house for the summer.

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

Ronnie kept receiving notes for about a week in her locker, each note got worse and worse. He began to write about how he would not only harm her, but everyone she loved. She began having nightmares and sometimes couldn’t even sleep.

The sky had been darkened by thick gray clouds. The brown wooden fences that bordered colorful houses all seemed as if their color had faded away. Small drops of water slipped gracefully off of the delicate leaves to the ground. The whole scene had a certain elegance to it, however mysterious the thin veil of fog made the familiar setting appear.