A Short Story : A Story?

I was consumed by my own anger: the fear of being all alone, that I wasn’t able to control the beast in me. Because of this, I had missed the last words my mother said, her last days and her last smile. I was selfish, and as much as it pains me to admit, my ego was greater than anything that was happening in the house.

He turned to the streets, begging for scraps of food or clothing, trying to find some way to support himself. Those years of his life had seemed like a dark abyss in which he was trapped. He could see the sunlight above, but he had no way to reach it. He still remembered the looks of disgust and fear upon people’s faces as he crawled to them and begged for help. They would pull their children closer and cross the street as they neared him, or walk straight past him with their eyes fixed ahead, unfazed by his pleas. After some time, he lost hope. As the rich merchants and fine clothed women passed, he said nothing, curled up in a ball on filthy, tattered blankets, starved and cold, flea bitten and depressed. He had feared for a time that he was on the brink of insanity, and had taken to talking to the stones on the street to while away the lonely hours. He remembered hoping he would simply pass in his sleep during the night to escape his never-ending

oh so much. He didn’t think about how she would feel or even how his parents would feel. He left them in the dark, without knowing whether he was alive or not. When his mother was sitting down and looking at the photos of him during his final days she cried and said “I just don’t understand why he had to take those kind of chances. ”(132)

“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.

The flood of emotions tumbles out. A stream of questions, one after another, is rapidly fired at him - where did he go, why did he leave, and most importantly, why didn’t he say goodbye? All this time she’d spent waiting in the past, suspended in time, unable to receive any semblance of closure or composure. All the pent up emotions rush out of her and guilt flashes in his eyes. "Let’s go inside first,” he says, “I’ll explain what I

Her mother just stared blankly at the floor when she started to tear up. “Lights out”, she replied as tears started to flow down her cheeks like a waterfall. “Mum, I’m really sorry...I..I..didn’t mean it”, said Rydie. In silence, she walked back to her room while her mother sobbed quietly in the shadows of the

Twisted wisps of thought whirled around in his head, an endless helix of memories threatening to strangle his sanity and haunt the recesses of his consciousness. Consciousness which was losing the mental crusade against the ebb of drowsiness. Opening his eyes was a futile effort. The darkness would consume him and offer no refuge from the inferno inside his mind. The world no longer made sense, if it ever did. Though obfuscated by darkness, the relentless tick-tock of the clock changing its evidence resonated in his ears. Time would drain his sanity like sand from a hourglass until nothing but mirages

He knew that he enjoyed every minute of torture and that he had done this many a times over. He kept reassuring himself that all he had to do was wait it out and the cops would soon show up.

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.

It was a sweet and delicate piece of bread, Ali imagine. Now it was just a stale piece of bread in a crowded trashcan that Ali and Smalls was hunting in.

“You did, and I decided that I don’t give a crap. Now come with me girly. Surly someone of your looks wouldn’t be dressed like that and not be trying to get laid?” A guy said grabbing her arm.

It all started on a Monday afternoon when Lucy thought to take a walk down the path from her house. It was close to midnight she did not seem to get tired after all the busy days she had. Lucy lives by herself in Portland, Oregon, and Lucy lived with herself and her dog Snuffles, a small Beagle. She rang the tiny bells on his leash. He came running down the stairs. She stroked his back calmly and slid the rope over his head and around his body and Lucy tied her coat in a knot around her waist. It was the beginning of Autumn, and the leaves had just started to fall, the smell of pumpkins and freshly raked leaves. Lucy began walking as her dog followed her through the dark, narrow trail. As they were walking Lucy heard a ruffle coming from the bush, she stopped and peeked over to see what there was. A confused elder man startles Lucy as she turns around he asks what time it was she questions why he is out so late. The man responds with a loud, “What?” Lucy responds as if she was talking to a deaf man, “why are you out this late?” The elder man seems still confused Lucy sighs, and she walks away the man starts following her Lucy and her dog start to walk faster Lucy realizes that the man is following her. Lucy turns around and yells “WHAT DO YOU WANT!” The man says “You.” Lucy dashes through the trail, her dog following along her side. The dog starts barking Lucy turns her, head around to see if the man is still following her, her heart is pounding. She turns back around he

“So...Emme…,” his voice came out faltering and weak, cracking like when he went through puberty. The man hesitated before starting again; he could feel Emme smiling in amusement even without looking. “Why did you do what you did?” He dared look up her when he asked her this, and instantly regretted it. Her crazed smile opened wider than humanly possible and laughed a

Placing her arm around his shoulder in a caring and compassionate manner, Rosy said, “Your wife will be okay. You must have faith.”

It had been a week since John and I had last seen the Pigman. We were too ashamed to call, or go over to his house. John said that we just need to give it time. I think he only said that so he can get the pressure of caring for someone other than himself of his shoulders.