A Short Story : A Story Of A Story

Phoenix kept his head down as containers and papers were flung off the storage table he was seeking solace under. He completely missed the fact that his amulet had slid out of his back pocket and was now laying on the floor. His eyes widened when he seen it laying there discarded, every time the other boy took a step he flinched, afraid that the heavy footed jerk would step on it and shatter it. Slowly he reached his arm out as far as he could, trying to hook one of his fingers around the small silver chain.

Victoria lay in the hospital bed and tried to keep the memories from flooding back. The demon was gone, along with its summoner who was killed in the attacks. She felt an immense weight lifted off her. She was alive, against all odds. Because of Lorna, of all people. She’s put a stop the demon. As to why she was there in the first place was a mystery.

I bask in the destruction as the symbols of the most powerful beings on Earth simply melt away. I shut my eyes and let the snow wash over my skin, arms outstretched. I open my eyes to Jensen chuckling. “What?” I ask.

One evening in late fall a young innocent girl named Mary was walking along the road when she saw a poor defenseless lamb. She started to approach the lamb, and as she got closer… and closer… and closer, mary notices something around the lamb's neck. It was a collar of some sort but did not have a name tag on it. She decided to take it home and put signs up for a missing lamb. When they got back to Mary’s house the lamb noticed that the house was kind of mysterious looking, two gargoyles were placed at each side of the porch along with a statue of a weeping angel.

Muffled sounds of shouts and bangs on furniture can be heard in the room at the end of the dimly lit hallway that is lined with bright photos of the same smiling family. A man swings open the door, turned back to a woman cowering away from him and shouted something that was clear in sound, but it didn’t sound like English in Harvey’s head. The man slammed the door, causing one of the frames to come loose from it’s perfectly hammered-in nail and crash on the clean wooden floor.

The old house groaned and creaked. Blake stepped over a pile of bloody glass. Someone, no something, had jumped through the window. She didn’t want to see anything more, but her feet kept moving. Blake turned the corner. The door to the parlour was ripped off it’s hinges. She didn't dare make a sound, the monster was still here, and it wanted her. The parlour couch was slashed open, it's stuffing falling out. A nasty red stain colored the white couch. A arm,mangle and shredded, was lying under the couch. Blake resisted the urge to throw up. She ran into the kitchen, trying to hide from her fate. A stench of blood filled my nostrils. Blake turned her head. A girl her age was lying on the floor. Her long blonde hair was matted with blood. Her neck was twisted at an odd angle. She had a bloody stump from where her arm was torn out of its socket. Long cuts indicated where an inhuman creature clawed open her chest.I had never seen her before. She was just a guest at this party. Blake knew Maia was here. Even if Blake found her, it was probably too late.

It was an absolute disaster. I pinch my face in disgust as I pick up one of the gooey clumps that were supposed to resemble sugar cookies.

When stories are told and tales are made up, you think of great heroes, random loot and epic adventures. Well see here’s the great ordeal we run into with those stories. They are so damn boring! You can always guess what will happen in the end. Not to mention the heroes always win with impossible odds! You essentially waste your time listening to some want-to-be story teller and their made up shenanigans. You must be thinking “what is this old drunk fool blabbing about this time?”

Hey, I’m Eriona. Eriona Rios actually. My friends call me Eri though. I’m about to tell you a story that will make you, actually I don’t know what it’s going to do to you. Here goes nothing. So it was about freshman year and there was this “new boy”, all of the girls wanted him to be honest, I did too. I’m not going to use his real name so were just going to call him Tom. Tom was soooooo cute, literally fine. So I told one of my friends that I thought he was cute, and she said she agreed. So a couple days later, I decided to tell my “friend” that I liked him. And she said I should text him and stuff. About 2 days later, me and her were walking in the hallway, and she gave Tom a hug right in front of me and told me she kinda like him. Me and her didn’t speak anymore after that.

“Nico!” Joe called out. It was getting pretty close to midnight and the boy was nowhere to be found.

My husband ran into our small house in Sonora with this look of excitement that made me wonder what has given my husband such a big smile on his face. I ask him, “Joaquin what is it what is going on?” He told me in that giddy boyish voice that I loved so much, “There is GOLD up in Alta California.” I gave him a confused look thinking “What did that have to with us.” As my confused look stayed and the seconds passed he grabbed my hands and said, “This is our chance to leave Sonora and for me to finally be able to give you a bigger home if I am able to get my hands on some gold.” Still fathomed by the idea I tell him “but our family is here in Sonora.” He laughs and goes on to say that but our dreams can be in California and if anything our family will always be here. I sighed and he jumped knowing full well that I was going to cave and tell him yes. I could never resist when he was like this. My crazy husband had a dream and as his wife it was my job to support him. We packed up some food and water along with some clothes in our little suitcase. I wish I could say we set off with dreams filling our heads and hopes on the horizon, but we had some road blocks before we were able to leave. Eventually we left heading to find my brother-in-law in San Francisco. It being my first time in San Francisco but my husbands second so he began to be amazed in how it had changed from his first visit to San Francisco. He was excited to see what these Americans have transformed the society.

Sit back, grab a bowl of popcorn, and get ready for what’s about to happen next. The initials A.S. will stick in my mind for the rest of my life. A.S. was a boy. He was a very important boy as matter of fact, or at least during my junior year of high school I thought he was important. But, to what extent is someone else’s importance greater than your own? Here I will explain to you a story of the boy who stole my self-worth and helped me gain it back. It begins in the end of December of the year 2016. Rumors of a new kid at school rung in my ears like church bells on a sunday morning (I don’t attend church but that’s besides the point). “He’s so hot” “I wonder what grade he’s in” all that fun mumbo jumbo. I’m not going to lie this is not a story of love at first sight because when I saw him, I did not see what all the hype was about. He was tall, so very tall, 6’1 to be exact. His eyes were some sort of a blue green, the kind of blue green that makes you sea sick just by looking at them. He had this stupid long light brown hair that felt like a cloud of everything I ever desired when I ran my fingers through it. I prefer not use his name but so begins the story of “the boy”.

Resisting no temptation not to I gushed onto the floor, “You never let me have anything!”

Alone one dark Friday winter night, Alley was sleeping soundly cozy under her bright pink comforter. Her single mother, Isabella, had left that morning out of town for a work meeting. Alley’s father had died a few years ago from a mysterious murder. Suddenly she got out of bed and shivered to the door to see what was making this weird noise. Alley opened the door and stepped onto the back porch, looking into the dark night. Listening to the sound of the wind howling and the sound of the harmless crickets chirping. But, nothing and no one was there…

Liam’s mom was right. There were other things out there, some were good, some were bad. Just by his luck the thing that was chasing him was not a good one. “Run, keep running Liam” he kept telling himself. He could hear the things feet pound against the mossy floor of the forest, the creatures breath echoing between the trees. The only thing keeping him and the creature apart was thought of seeing his mother again, the only thing he cared about in this world, the fear of leaving her alone was not an option, that was the source of his adrenaline. “Just keep going, a few more feet and you'll be back home”.