A Short Story : A Story?

First, Bennie starts out by eavesdropping on a conversation between his grandmother and the doctor. He is does this when Grant Moss Jr. writes, “Their voices floated low and quiet into the shade that lay over the house… ‘How long will it be?’ he heard his grandmother say. ‘Before the end of summer.’... Now Bennie understood. But he could

“True,” Ben admitted as he watched the kids play a board game in the living room. “We’ll just keep on like we have been and hope for the best,” he decides, looking over at Rachel who looks tired and wane. “Why don’t you go lie down. I’ll get the kids ready for bed,” he promises with a pat to her hand.

"What do we do?" I asked and then remembered what the old man said earlier, "There's nothing here for your friend. I gulped and said to Joseph, "You know Pan's secret. There's no life for you here now. Maybe we could fit you in the boat, and I could somehow ration out the pixie dust and we could go to London together, and start ov-"

Soon after his escape, he discovers his father is going into surgery. We watch him grapple with the thought of his father's mortality. In a last minute burst of fear Ben drives back home to see his father for what might be the last time.

Once upon a time, there lived a boy. Although he went to a good school, he was not a good student, for he spent all his hours and all his days on the computer playing video games, enveloped in his own world. From the moment school ended until early in the morning, he would sit at his desk for hours and hours on end, pushing away his study material away and promising completion, but to no avail. Fingers flying over the keyboard, he did not relent until a large VICTORY graced his bloodshot eyes. Not even as the end of the year cumulative assessment slowly approached like a hawk about to snatch its prey, did he pick up his books. Day after day, his procrastination knew no limit until his final exam was less than 48 hours away.

My eyes slightly open to the bright light in front of me. What happened last night? i look up slowly opening my squinted eyes. thats not my ceiling... i look over and see a dark skined back. Oh right..

The world was as normal as it had always have been and nothing was out of the ordinary. Jason had finally achieve his dream of being a detective who brings murders to justice. He always wanted to prove to himself that one day, he would be the one to bring justice. However, there were some issues with his health that held him from being put out in the field, but all he care about was his dream to care about anything else. He had recurring problem that held him back from doing the thing he always wanted to do, his one meaning in his life, his job, but he wasn’t going to let anything stop him.

There she lay, on her bed dead and gone forever. My precious mother has passed due to the awful fever that has been going around Philadelphia. I, Jenny, am only a thirteen year old girl that couldn’t even take care of my mother, and now I have of take care of myself, all alone. My father died when I was only three, he had been murdered by an evil man. What am I going to do now? I thought to myself. My stomach growled; I couldn’t remember the last time I ate. I had been so busy with taking care of my mother that I forgot to feed myself. I decided to just walk around and see what I would find.

Gavin hands me a cup with a lid,wrote on a piece of tape says ‘Gavin A.’ “Well if this doesn't work let me know,I’m next door after all” I kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you for your...um...contribution...” He blushes and touches the spot where I kissed him. “It's no problem.I mean it's our duty to society,so what do I do now?” “Well I was about to go to the store...so I guess leave maybe?” He gives me a hug, turns to leave but stops “Hey if you ever need a friend I do live next door so maybe if it's OK with you,we can have lunch sometime?”I nod,smiling,he leaves. I head to the bathroom and look in the mirror. I take down my braids.My brown hair is a mess,it's wild and untamed. It's curly because the braids I had in earlier. My blue eyes become an ocean as I began to sob thinking about my family. I turn on the shower.

Maybe I was overreacting, maybe I wasn’t. How could it be him? I thought he was gone, but I guess I got so caught up that I never realized he could have still been alive.

The next morning, Heather was walking with her maid. She’d been to visit Lady Lucy, and was now returning to join her mother for a visit to Cousin Milton this afternoon. She returned to the townhouse and changed, meeting her mother in the foyer as their carriage arrived. It was a short jaunt to their old home. Heather stepped out of the carriage and looked up at the familiar façade. Her mother took her hand, and they shared the same worried expression. Cousin Milton had said the meeting was about an urgent matter. Heather loathed the idea of meeting with him for any matter after the way he had treated them. She understood his need to protect his family, but that didn’t explain his heartlessness.

My eyes widen in astonishment to hear we're the ones making her feel nervous, I'm practically quaking in my shoes. With faltering steps, Alice lead us towards the empty sofa, where we sit close together. Though the fire radiates enough heat to fill the room, I feel the chill around us emitting from the ice queen. A set of icy hands holds me to my seat, yet my spontaneous eyes gaze at the curious couple entertaining us this evening.

The top of the Notre Dame bell tower was chilly now, the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon hours ago. Madeline gazed out at the city, enjoying the stillness. Paris was quiet tonight, a rare occurrence in a huge city like this. She sighed, leaning against the cool stone. This night reminded her of the one several months ago when she had seen Gabe for the first time. Little had she known then that she had just met the love of her life. Monique had been right all along.

It was the summer going into fourth grade. Waking up that morning my mom, short with brown curly hair, surprised me with a big box that had come from the mail. She said “Your aunt Claire from Colorado sent you some new clothes to have.” I opened the box and came to find a whole bunch of different clothes like tank tops, shorts, and bathing suits. I had noticed that there were doubles of some of the clothes.

The blood, pooling on the dank cement of the stairwell. The light above shone red, and the blood could easily be mistaken for water. Pure, accidental, innocent. None of which could describe the blooming pool in the light of its true genesis. The zenith was the shoulder wound of Aberoth Ooschie, a man native to Berlin yet had checked into the Park Inn like a guest. The shoulder in question was earlier shot by a man in plainclothes and a discreet earpiece, after which Abe hurried his way out and past the nearest exit sign. He sat here now, four flights away from the roof, recalling the turbulence of fear and joy from the previous night, panting from his own exertion and from Zita's.