A Short Story: The Fair Gwen Forgave Freak

And all of a sudden we hear the high winds screeching creepily from outside our house, the branches were loudly scratching and scraping against the house loudly. As I looked around I got more and more freaked out. There were boxes everywhere creating shadows from our flashlight and creating darkness that the flashlight couldn't fill. My entire family was scared, as scared as a chipmunk would be if a lion was in it’s tree. My Dad was searching for something in a sea of darkness, my mom trying to comfort my now crying siblings with a horrifying worried look on her face and me thinking to myself, When will it be done, what damage will it do and Oh No. As I thought I heard something crack from outside of my house, and then

So much pain, so much blood. Everything was fuzzy, people looked like splotches blocking my vision. The yelling. It’s getting louder. I look for light, but only darkness is here now. There. Under the door. I try my hardest to lift the fallen door, but a shooting pain propels up my leg so I stop. “

As my car climbed the hill, my heart sunk into my stomach. I parked as far away from my friends as I could and quickly exited the car, not once looking at them. Now it was every man for himself. Emerging into the open air, I suddenly became aware of myself. I could feel my puffy, blood-shot eyes. My palms became slimy. My fingers clinched into a fist and my nails dug into my skin. My sight blurred and my tunnel of vision tried to focus on the front door. Every step seemed more awkward than the last. Eyes pierced me from all sides. I felt naked. My body trembled like a sheep in the midst of wolves.

For once I felt the sudden need to be near other people, so I headed for the door quickly. The street was deserted. Strewn across the road were all my belongings. Why were they here and not in my cardboard box where I slept in Well Street? Who had done this? Were they thieves? Not that I had much to steal. I began gathering everything up. My blankets had been shredded. There were dents in things, bits pulled off other things and generally messed with. Even the things that used to be usefully were destroyed. Why would anyone even bother to do this? As I looked at my surroundings I began to feel a little disorientated. The ground seemed to move. Then I felt distinctly uneasy. Was he back? At a distance I thought I could see people so I hurried in their direction but they never seemed to get nearer. At once, I was then surrounded by them! No faces! They’ve got no faces! I closed my eyes and when I opened them the people were gone. I suddenly felt as if I was being watched. I glanced around furtively and out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw a lion! I screamed but it was gone. As I again looked around I thought I could see dozens of pairs of eyes behind every window staring at me malevolently. I turned and ran. Breathlessly, I re-entered the church and slammed the door behind me.

I reached in my pocket for my pen so I could sketch some flowers. I pulled out a few dollars bills, and I remembered my mother gave me money so I could buy some milk for her. I turned around and went to the grocery. I went into the milk section, grabbed a jug, and headed to the checkout. The man in front of me in the line was staring at me. He looked at me like I was a vicious beast. I began to feel uncomfortable. The teenage brothers behind me were rough housing and when one threw a punch, they knocked me with their elbow. I couldn’t keep my balance. I went diving towards the ground, and I hit the man in the back with my nose. He fell to the ground, holding both his arms like he broke them. I got up and tried to help him up. He was backing up in fear saying, “Monster, you monster.” Everyone began to stare and back away from me, even the brothers. It was completely silent. I could hear my breathing. I heard one of the employees whisper to someone, “Call 911.” Then I bolted out the front door. I ran as fast as my little feet could go. In the corner of my eye I could see people behind me. They were catching up to me. At this point, I knew I couldn’t run any longer. I started to stumble and then, I felt a hand hook my shell. I went flying back. After that, the moment was surreal. I knew my mom was going to kill me, if the police don’t first. I don’t even remember much of it

i said ''nothing'',i heard my dad coming out of his bedroom so i hide the book under my bed and started pretending to be asleep, my dad started to wake me up so we can go have fun in this techstore so he can buy me my first smart phone, the thing is inside of me, I felt this new detective spirit growing inside of me, we went to the store so we can have this phone we heard shot fires inside of the stores looked like Marcus and his gang are hitting again this store like they did in the bank my dad called back up, but couldn't stand the view that my moms best friend Katherine is being threatened as she was

Most people stopped smiling. Screams were heard. Dancing stopped. Why were people screaming? All I heard was the beat of the music. People began running towards the front door, into the bathroom, behind the bar. Anywhere they could hide. I stood on my tiptoes to see the commotion, A guy was holding a gun, shooting us. Bodies dropped rapidly. My heart sunk. Where was Travis? Kendra? I couldn’t find my best friends. Still on my tiptoes, I looked around. I saw Kendra. Then a crowd of people engulfed her and I could no longer see her. I hoped that my friends would be okay before I rushed into the bathroom. A small pile of people cowered together upon hearing the bathroom door swing open. They thought I was him. Once seeing I held no weapon, they yanked my t-shirt sleeve and pulled me into the pile of crying, shaking, scared friends. I pulled out my phone, clicking it on then opening the thread of messages between my mom and I. Quickly, I typed a brief explanation of what was happening and where I was. I sent an ‘I love you both’ before shoving my phone back in my pocket. I gripped a stranger’s hand tightly, tears rushing down my face like a waterfall. A sob choked in my throat, causing my breath to hitch, letting out a hiccup. A stranger hugged me closer. The shouts wouldn’t leave my head. I heard them all over, I heard the shrieks, the calls for help. Why is this happening? was all I could think. I squeezed my eyes shut, throwing my hands over my ears,

Lifting your head up from a nap from the cold wood-finished desk, trying to overcome the haziness from your eyes as you look at your teacher, turning your head to the right your friend is taking a colorful page of ocean-blue, rosie-cheek-pink, lime-green, purple heart majesty colored notes and you wonder why you are doing the same. You suddenly hear loud thuds coming up the metal-rusted ramp outside leading to the door. The door swings open with a powerful “swoosh” and an eerie creek from the rusted bolts follow. A gun walks in, following a middle-aged white man who has a distorted look in his eyes.

Carole and I were fleeing with urgency down the steep driveway, arms and legs pumping with fear. Which way to go? Down the reedy river path with potential snakes and the risk of being seen or the creepy drainage ditch? Looking back toward the house with rapid fire beats in our hearts, fear drove us forward. We searched to see how far ahead we were. Not far. Not as far as we needed to be, but he hadn’t appeared yet. The only logical way was through the rusty damp and dark pipes so we wouldn’t be seen. Our noses wrinkled with the disgust upon entry, filling our nostrils with a strong smell of mold and crud collected from storms.

As he stomped down the hall dressed in all black, I timidly stepped to the other side of the hallway with my head down avoiding any type of interaction. When the sounds of boots and chains faded away, I was overwhelmed with relief. Nothing had calmed me more than this instant; nothing had been more soothing than the sound of pure nothingness. The fear that came over me was like being trapped in a small room with no way out. I felt helpless, defenseless, like something was going to happen to me in that hallway with the boy dressed in black.

The bell tolls. I stumble downstairs in a drear. I can’t stand it, I can’t stand this heaviness, this heaviness in the air. I could scream. My feet begin to thud, thudding down the stairs. I shove the front doors open. To hell with the repercussions. I run. I run like I have never run before. I let it all drip away. The fog thickens around me, clouding my vision, tripping me up. It’s the fog of me, the fog I’m releasing. My toes sink in the grass, squelching and sinking. I’m light as air now. It’s like I’m painting, but not painting in my head, I’m painting on canvas. I’m building sculptures. I’m shaping sand.

I began to panic, as more and more of the black dots climbed into me, wriggling up my arms like worms in the rain, hurting me more and more. I dug my nails into my body, trying to stratch them out, to no avail. I couldn’t take the pain, the persistent feeling of being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles, pricking harder and harder each time, the uttermost betrayal from my only friends, the only ones who ever knew me. The fishbowl began to crack, like icy roads in the Monday morning rush. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and began to scoop out the bugs, slowly at first, but then as more began to form, I picked up the pace. Every time I managed to flick one body to the tiled floor, another would begin to crawl up from my toes, coating me in a layer of darkness. My body was numb as lines of ruby appeared on my arms, but my heart raced uncontrollably. Trickles of water slithered down the glass. Slowly, the dots began to fade, almost reducing into mist and floating away, how the trees return to stillness after a storm, as a sea of garnet rushed over me. But this state of relief did not last long- a dark shadow formed in the doorway, blocking all light entering the room. It looked like a shadow; as dark as hell, it spoke words of sin and hate, with a voice low enough to shatter glass. I staggered backwards, and held myself up using the counter behind me. It launched forward, grabbing towards my arms, wrapping around me, choking me in smoke. A waterfall gushed over my face, drowning me. I couldn’t

Looking back no one truly knew when the world had begun to change. The once blue sky was now a grotesques grey, the sun no longer shined bright in the sky, nor did the cotton clouds float freely through the sky. The air was barely breathable as many of the forest trees had either died out from pollution or had been cut down to provide the ever growing population within the past century. The life of luxury meant having air filters circulating though out the house making breathing much easier for those who could afford it.

We would go on more adventures. I thought we would fight more battles. But, instead i might be fighting them o my own. The nurse walked down the hall with a nice smile. She asked if i was max. I said yes. She told me kevin was asking for me. I sprinted to freaks room , and almosted kicked his door down! I was so happy that freak was ok. At least that’s what it seemed to be. After awhile of awkwardness , I started to tell stories about when we got chased by Tony .D and his little gang. And , about the fireworks from when we first met. I had to keep my tears back , because i didn’t wanna get teased by freak. Even though he’s in the hospital his attitude hasn’t changed. A few hours later , it was time to go home. I tried to stay with freak but grim wouldn’t let me , i couldn’t sleep that night. AT ALL! I tossed and

Death, was all Gwen could think about on the cool, crisp morning of July 1st. It had been a week since her mother’s disappearance and the police had no idea where she could be. Her dad had died in a car crash two weeks before Gwen was born, and her grandparents had died mysteriously in a fire one night when Gwen was one. Her grandparents had left Gwen’s mother the rambling, old house that she had grown up in. Gwen’s mother hated that house. She would often tell Gwen that as a child she thought there was an evil ghost, watching her and Gwen’s grandparents day and night. After 18 years Gwen’s mother was forced to re-visit the house, to collect some furniture and albums before it was sold.