A Short Story : The Story Of A Story?

Sehun choked on his drink and Luhan dropped his fork. You stared at Minhee for a while, trying to let what she said sink in. You had always liked Sehun, but you didn’t know that the moment where he would like you would come, but it was Minhee who was talking and maybe she was lying.

I heard a knock at the door. It was my best friend Greta! I was excited to see her, but something wasn't right. She looked absolutely terrified. I had wondered what had happened ,but before I could ask she said,"Heidi, I went home after dinner--my family Heidi!” She was crying hysterically. I replied, “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” She said,”It can’t wait till tomorrow!” She had finally told me what had happened her family was taken. I din’t know what to think. I told her that I might be able to help, however I don’t really know. I went to my bed. I couldn’t sleep almost whole night. Greta’s words thundered in my mind. I wanted to help her, but I din’t want to hurt my family. I knew that if I helped her that my family could get hurt. We could all get hurt.

It was an absolute disaster. I pinch my face in disgust as I pick up one of the gooey clumps that were supposed to resemble sugar cookies.

June 5th 2016 3 girl gone missing in a small town in Traverse City michigan. No where to be found or clues where they could of go. I was there friends with the 3 girls Amy, Claire, Emily and , i am katie. We were all best friends grew up in the same town all went to the same elementary school. As we went into middle school we got very popular and we all meet a lot of new people and friends. But Amy, Claire , Emily and I all stayed bestfriends. I met Amy and Claire in 1st grade our families were very close and always have party ,dinners together. Amy was shy when i first met her but grew out of it she only lived with her mom and didn't have any siblings.When me and Amy were younger we would hang out everyday after she never wanted to go home.i never asked her why I she thought we were having a lot of fun. I met Claira the same year i met Amy. Claire grew up with a Mom and Dad and a younger brother Claire always dressed the best out of our little friend group ource because her family was very rich. Her family would always take us three to the coolest places. Then we met Emily in the 4th grade she was very different from us three but she became our best friend she lived with her grandparents in this very little blue house near a haunted lake.The first time we met her at school no one sat next to her so we did she was happy to met us. And that's how i met my 3 best friends . And am Katie I have a mom and dad and an older sister named Sophia she was the better child

When stories are told and tales are made up, you think of great heroes, random loot and epic adventures. Well see here’s the great ordeal we run into with those stories. They are so damn boring! You can always guess what will happen in the end. Not to mention the heroes always win with impossible odds! You essentially waste your time listening to some want-to-be story teller and their made up shenanigans. You must be thinking “what is this old drunk fool blabbing about this time?”

The sounds of feet puttering against the concrete and heavy breathing echoed on a cold, starry night. As he ran, his dark-brown gaze shifted up to see a sign that read in bold “GAMECOCK VILLAGE,” it’s iron neither rusted from the rain nor bleached in the sun. Running into the area, he made his way to a tree and stopped, taking time to breathe again. While listening out for the people who claimed to be his “family,” he took in his surroundings. Each apartment was three stories high, bricks built the lower half and the rest by what seemed to be wood. For each story, three windows accompanied it, and each complex was not as close together as the apartment the people held him in was. Recognizing where he was at, he bolted and looked for a room “with a light on all the time.”

Anase wakes up from her bed and sighs. Mother knocks on the door, “Anase, you awake?” Anase doesn't answer and her mother opens the door, poking her head through the doorway, “Honey, someone’s here to see you.” Anase’s heart stops, she could only guess who. Coming down the stairs, Anase immediately recognizes the very tall hooded man who turns to her and smiles too fakely, “You ready, Anase?” Mother smiles, “Of course she is, aren't you Anase?” Anase smiles too horrified to say no. The man, Ender, grabs her arm, “We’ll be back Mrs. Ora.” Anase looks pleadingly back at her mom, who had closed the door.

No longer since the sun went down, Allie made her way down the fire escape from her small city apartment and walked a couple blocks to Carson’s house, passing two homeless men sitting on the sidewalk holding up, ‘I lost my family and my job. Care for some change’ signs, and a police cruiser hidden in the alley way. Allie thought about the homeless men without much food. All they wore were dirty and ripped clothing with scruffy faces; they probably had not showered or shaved in sometime. She wondered if she had been homeless, would she be sitting in front of coffee shops begging people for money because she was hungry. If it wasn’t for Peter, to find her in trouble, she would have be one of them.

Tovi stared at her reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall, tucked her shirt into her pants and then left her room and entered the living room shortly after where John watched TV.

SLAM, Joel woke with a start to the sound of the old rusted out truck door slamming shut. He figured he knew what that sound meant on this day compared to others. It meant his uncle, Bert, was putting his dog down. Joel knew the day was coming the way his aunt and uncle had been talking lately but he fought it nonetheless. Constantly yelling and arguing since that was the only thing he could think to do since he wasn’t really fighting the two adults who usually stood before him but rather time. Joel felt worthless in the months leading up to now since he knew there was nothing he could do. To Joel, that sound was the final blow, he was well aware that he did not have a choice anymore. Regardless of that fact that was sinking in, Joel bolted up right and tore through the old house flying through the front door. Completely jumping the rotted out steps Joel landed in a cloud of dust that billowed up from where his barefeet made contact with the dirt before taking off after the old pickup truck as it rumbled down the gravel driveway.

Gran sat on her living room couch and stared at the front door, fearing Zach would never return, but also fearing he would. She spread her hands around the Cartier jewelry box, knowing she should’ve told the truth about the watch, but once the secrets and lies got their grips into her, for right or wrong, the stories persevered.

Rose rolled her eyes and mumbled, “ Well I was taking a nap and it’s been a crazy day.”

“NOOOOOOOOOO THAT CAN NOT BE POSSIBLE,” yelled a boy named Fritz, “try again.” Fritz and his friends, Andy and Zack, are in Fritz’s bedroom with the soothing and quiet hum of the computer and the boing boing boing of the tennis ball hitting against the white and bumpy wall of the bedroom that is being thrown by Andy. “WE HAVE TO FIND THAT RING,” screamed Fritz as he stormed out of the bedroom. Fritz was a skinny little boy in 7th grade at Spry Middle School. He loves to play dodgeball outside with his friends, and play car racing with his little brother inside. But, Fritz’s gets angry really quickly sometimes.Fritz has the ability to be a human GPS. Andy was more of an active person. She loves gymnastics. Some moves she can do is the aerial, a cartwheel, a back-handspring, and she can flip in the air three times in a row, without touching the ground. Zack is more of an insider. Most of his time spent in the day is reading, studying, writing or looking out the window for more ideas for his story’s.

The boy’s father reached over and pulled his son closer to him and whispered “we do not ask questions like that? It might have embarrassed her.” Looking at Rachel, trying to judge what she was thinking.

Stories. We hear them all the time. For most of us, we’re introduced to the concept of storytelling from a very young age, when our parents would tell us bedtime stories. For others, we weren’t so lucky as to have had this privilege. I can most definitely say that I wasn’t one of those kids with this privilege, so what would I do instead? I would create my own stories, and relay them through my mind. Believe it or not, I got really good at storytelling. That is exactly why I’m going to tell you all a story today. Nothing ordinary, and nothing out-of-the ordinary. Simply, a story that you won’t be able to forget.