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.

He was wincing in so much pain, it was unbearable to watch. The girl…she was panicking so hard…she was shaking as she tore a piece of clothing and put it on the

“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.

In Anniston, Abra opened her eyes and drew a large, gasping breath. Rather than jewels, her tears resembled a steadily rushing stream. She held her neck gingerly, rubbing at it and at the same time attempting to conceal her injury from her parents. It was sore, and she knew it would hurt even more later.

Her voice was like a whisper as the jail’s bars slowy closed upon her face. her vision was still dizzy, and she had not eat anything for hours. turning her head back, she tried to walk. clumsy steps were the best she could do, occasionally almost stumbling to reach the bed, or at least what seemed like a bed to her.

Elis pulled at the bandages over his arm and peeking up his neck. He walked through the halls of the medical ward until he found the room he was searching for. He hesitated, hands shaking and bile rising in his throat. His eyes were still red, as was the rest of his face. The constant rubbing made his skin raw and painful, the scrapes not helping any. He recalled the advice from that night, not to get too focused. It was lessoned he learned the hard way

It was later in the day, near time for all to pack up and go home, when shouts rang through the mill. A blur of green, a cloud of red barreling through the mill. "Stop!" The men shouted, trying to catch the panicked, running girl. Her face was ashen, mottled with red and wet with sweat and tears. Eyes hardly seeing. A splash of wet red across her green dress. "She's hurt, catch her!" Hands reached out but the shrill scream when they near caught her made the men

Eliza limped towards the lake. She didn’t know why she wanted to be there so bad anymore, her leg was throbbing and blood was pooling around her. She felt weak and she was shivering even though it was easily over ninety degrees outside. She looked back at the city she had come from. There was no longing to return as she stared at the towering buildings behind her. Her mom, of course, had exhausted that feeling away from her. Eliza turned back around, she could see her lake now. Half unconscious, she half ran, half stumbled to the makeshift bench her and her dad had made when she was five. When she reached it, she sat down with a thump, tears streaming from her eyes and down her cheeks. How did things end up so badly? She looked down and watched

'wait... what?' She looked down at her arms and then at the door. The door was sealed firmly shut but she was not tied down heavily at all and a couple of firm wriggles after she was free of the table and with a drugged cry her body hit the cold floor. Surrounding her were the instruments that they had been using to poke and prod at her, some still covered in her own blood and of course that large syringe lying where it had been dropped.

Screams heard across the campus bellowed out from her small body. Blood, vibrant in color, gushed out of the freshly created wound at a velocity I had never encountered before. She fell to the ground. A small crowd gathered

Warm crimson ran down her arm leaving a metallic smell that filled the room to the brim. The silver slit of metal she used slipped out of her hand as her vision became blurred and her breathing became faint. She slowly came in and out of consciousness while her arms held a passage for her demons to escape from. She woke once again to feel a pounding in her head that consumed her thoughts, she tried yelp for help but only a small groan came out.

Janina could not be bothered to move. Her left arm was bent at a position that seemed physically impossible, yet there it was. When the guard broke it she had screamed, but now it throbbed, the pain as much a part of her as anything else. She stared at the sky above her, for there was nothing else to look at. Janina had gazed at the dead boy for an hour, but it had hurt more than arm.

She awoke to the sounds of confused and pain-stricken sobs. Cold beads of sweat ran across her forehead and she began to consider what had actually happened. She had been on her way home from work, but that was all she recalled. With great effort she managed to sit up, but soon wished she had not. She could feel blood pulsing loudly in her head and ears and immediately felt the need to close her eyes and sleep.

The morning sun shined brightly, making its way through Isaac’s blinds. The sun’s rays got into Isaac’s face, causing him to turn his head. He tried to sleep for a bit longer, but knew it wouldn’t be possible. Lying in bed, Isaac turned his head to the ceiling. It had been three weeks since the defeat of the Sangrine Syndicate, though it felt like yesterday. Isaac sat up, starting to think about Gerard’s funeral, which greatly saddened him. Remembering Malessica crying made him feel worse, since he wasn’t able to do anything to make her feel better. At the Funeral, he barely said a word to her. It made him feel like a terrible friend, but he didn’t want to think too much about it.

It was a nice summer day, my 5-year-old son Sam was playing outside in the backyard of our suburban home. Sam has always been a quiet boy, he plays by himself mostly, he never had many friends, but he has always had a wild imagination. I was in the kitchen feeding our dog Dakota, when I heard what sounded like Sam talking to someone in the backyard. I’m not sure who it was he could be talking to, could he have finally made a friend? Being a single mom it’s hard for me to always keep an eye on my son, so I decided to go outside and check on him. When I went into the backyard I was a bit confused, because Sam was the only person back there. Was he talking to himself? I could have sworn I heard another voice. “Sam! It’s time to come inside.” I called out to him. He came inside and sat down at the kitchen table, it was about lunchtime so I decided to make him a sandwich. “Sam. Who were you talking to out there?” I asked. Sam looked up for a moment, “I was playing with my new friend,” he said smiling. I poured him some milk and continued to pry, as any good mother would. “Does your friend have a name? Why didn’t you ask him to have lunch with us?” I asked. Sam stared at me for a moment before replying, “His name is Funny Man.” I was a bit taken back by what he had said. “Oh? That’s a strange name. What does your friend look like?” I asked a bit confused. “He’s a clown. He has long hair and a big swirly cone nose. He’s got long arms, with stripy socks, and he always smiles.” I