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.

*Slam*. The door shuts. The room was silent, you could hear a pin drop. Leah left and I heard the car start up. We’ve never gotten in a fight like this. Tears started streaming down my face. The tears started streaming down my face harder and harder by the second. AGHHHHH I screamed. I slowly got up from the table the chair squeaking making the same sound it made when Leah left. WOOSH. I think that was the fastest I’ve EVER turned around. I saw a small shadow. Nobody else was home. but there was still a shadow? I walked around the corner…nothing. I ran upstairs and WOOSH again. I checked my bedroom and Leah’s bedroom. There was nothing in there.

“Now, that, I don’t know, dear Cousin. I just figured I’d start today with those everyday visits.”

"I'm a huge fan of his! I even got an autographed picture," said the receptionist. She took out her wallet and showed me a picture of a handsome man in his early thirties. I pretended to admire the picture, acknowledging that I did look a lot like my brother, except his hair was streaked with purple and his eyes were a deep, mesmerizing sea blue.

“ Really?” I questioned. I had to get close to him so I could hear him.

or recruited a Tom Cruise. It wasn’t important who started the fights. Both the obstacles and the triumphs enhanced the journey and swayed the reckoning of the mirrors.

I turned off the camera as I heard giant footsteps coming from a doorway. I began to panic, but I pulled myself together and

She was scared, lost, and confused. Anyone could tell simply by looking in her eyes. As she stared out the window, Margaret could see it all. She saw every fear spelled out in the woman’s eyes. Margaret’s heart cried out in pain as it broke into several pieces.

“Hannah drove her to the doctor,” Shaw told him. “She needed something to help her relax.”

Nat pulled a stool forward and sat down, leaning forward put the cigarette up to the top of the flame, the flame lapped at the cigarette for a while until the end glowed red like the embers of the fire. Nat withdrew the cigarette from the flame, put it up to his mouth, hesitating then sighed and gently put the cigarette in between his lips. It hung downwards, as he drew in a deep breathe, allowing the smoke to fill his mouth, he gently blew out and watched the blue-grey smoke filled the air around him. “Tomorrow, during the next tide, I’ll have to go out and see if there are any survivors,” Nat sighed, “If we can find anyone maybe they’ll know of a safe place.”

The summer had seemed too short for Maxine Caulfield and anxiety filled her as she loaded her school bag and prepared for her first day back to class.

“Mmm. Pardon. My coffee . . .” She pressed the mute key, cleared her throat, and unmuted. “Please, excuse me.” What was this dribble on her keyboard? Latte drool. Mortified, she wiped her shirt over her chin. At least, he couldn’t see her.

The putrid purple of old bruises gleamed helplessly against the limpid replacements— it was all my fault.

Most people who’d undergone pain would say that going home after an incident would be the worst part, having to deal with the aftermath of their emotional outbursts and what was happening. Vivian, however, felt nothing as she walked. The cold wind was biting through her, and she could sense that rain was coming nearby, mainly due to the odd twinge in the air that she’d learned to avoid having a delicate instrument with her at all times. Yet now she walked through the streets alone, each step pressing on the cold stones underneath her and making her that much more worried as to what she was going to do.

"Hey Gwen, I mean Sarah," my dad said with a teasing smirk while passing me in the hallway. "Did you have a fun vacation at your Norweigan's cousin's house?"