A Short Story : The Story Of Arriety

I stand and stare in disbelief as the car’s bonnet is crumpled into the bulky metal pole on the side of the road. My limbs are numb and I am drenched from head to toe. The glistening droplets continuously drip off the tip of my nose as I realize how much trouble I’m going to get into. The wind wails around me as if it’s saying “you’re going to be in so much trouble”. I suddenly get back into the car and attempt to reverse the car so no one will see the car rammed into the power pole. Mum and Dad's pristine new car. Scratched. Dented. Ruined.

The air reeked of alcohol, the intoxicated breaths of young people colliding together over drunken slurs to create one distinct scent. She kept her head low as she made her way through the maze made by the seemingly endless crowd. Full of regrets, she was doing all she could to get out of there, the distraction turning out to be nothing more than a few drinks with people who didn't even know when her birthday was. The song finished abruptly, followed by simultaneous cheering. She kept moving, weaving in and out of people with fierce determination until she walked right into him. She murmured a quick apology and went to continue when the familiarity of the figure in front of her hit. She hesitantly looked up, heart dropping into her stomach at the mere sight of him.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Kelsey mumbled to herself as she leaned against the wall of her room to put her other black stiletto on. She quickly zipped up her black dress, applied red lipstick and ran out the door. The warm night air brushed against her legs as she quickly walked to the bar downtown. She was on a mission tonight… and being late wasn’t part of the plan.

As I walked to the exit, I realized that this trip was promising to become a long and challenging expedition. Once inside Brian's limousine, we took our seats fast. Brian and his lawyers sat directly across from us again. David picked up his cell phone and called the lawyers representing Mary at the Dominican Republic while Brian was on his cell phone arranging travel. One of Brian’s attorneys was an older, bold man, who was trying to look up my skirt the entire trip to the airport. I stayed vigilant, kept my hands on my knees and pulled down my skirt every time it rose an inch. The ride in the limo was uncomfortable. I was happy to have reached my building

Evie hopped off the bus with a renewed sense of purpose. “I came here to succeed. Not to worry about home,” she thought to herself. She was feeling driven and ready to begin anew here, in a foreign land with foreign people, people who don’t know her or her legacy. She looked around at the lively street scene before her. The signs were vibrant and their brilliance drew her closer and closer to the center of town. The entire city seemed to be moving towards her, and an endless sea of men and women spewed out of the buildings and down the block. The congested streets keep her pace slow, but her mind was racing with new thoughts and ideas. The gridlocked traffic finally allowed for some leeway, and Evie found her way out of the fray and across

Purple bruises were scattered across her frail wrist like grotesque, swollen beetles. Her knee jutted out awkwardly to her side. Her bleeding, cracked lips were shrunken to a tiny buttonhole. Her tongue stuck out between her teeth like a piece of rubber. Her eyelids fluttered feebly as she lay there - defeated, defenseless, and desolate. Her chest heaved up and down, as her lungs fought for breath – she was barely alive. A caked, muddy trail of shoeprints followed him out the door. He had gotten away again. Tears prickled at the back of my eyes. My throat swelled up as my steely resolve began to dissolve. Grief shook my shoulders like an inner earthquake, the world around me crashing down. A nauseating mixture of relief and horror clenched tightly onto my loins – like when you finally stop an itch, only to realize that you’ve ripped a hole in your

I am forced out of bed before the sun gets the chance by the high-pitched screaming of my alarm. Working against the clock, my brain fights the last-minute task of arranging all my clothes into a suitcase. The taxi ride to the airport is all but a tired blur. With a long hug and a bittersweet speech from my parents, I am off on my own to break new boundaries. The airport and I are no strangers.

“She has been injured,” this malnourished inmate said. Evelyn’s cell mate. “I thought we could make it out of here. She told me she could pilot one of these, but she fainted before we could leave.” His bony hand gently cupped her cheek and he had tears streaming down. “Oh my poor love. My poor daughter.”

We met (again) by accident, as I was unaware of her summer job as the ice-cream parlor girl, when I walked into the Sugar Shoppe, my shoulders hunched and aching from having slaved all morning over my typewriter. It was the closest thing to a bar near my summer chalet, and I had forbidden myself to drive farther than five miles to find a beer. She was wearing a candy striper’s uniform, the dress cut straight and box-like, lace socks sagging around her awkward boney ankles and her hair tied back with a tired-looking ribbon. The electronic buzzer that warned her of entering customers rung it’s hollow tone as I opened the door and Vitya’s face jumped with an adorable surprise.

Aside from a few regulars and the occasional man that flirted with her, nothing was out of the ordinary. Dishes clinked, voices rose, and the smell of food was always heavy in the air. She picked up an extra shift, more than happy to lend a helping hand. So by the time the sun had set and the dark of night had claimed the once bright sky, she was exhausted. Sweaty, her hair a mess, and her feet aching, she climbed into her old car and made the drive back home. It was always the same ritual when she came home. First the door was opened and her purse was hung by a hook next to it. She closed the door and locked it right then. No. Molly wasn’t afraid. It was simply more convient to lock it now as she had a habit of simply falling asleep. She wasn’t hungry tonight. Having worked the extra shift, she picked up dinner during her break at work. It saved on having to cook anything, and that was always a plus. Turkey on rye had been her dinner. It was an intentional choice. She peeled her shoes off as she sat on her bed before pulling her laptop next to her. The website had taken a few more hits. All of them were jokes, of course, but at least it brought a smile to her face to read the outlandish offers. She pulled herself into the bathroom, where she enjoyed a nice, long, hot shower. Wrapped in her terry cloth, white robe, Molly rested across her bed, next to her laptop, where she slipped into the

It had not seemed this bright since he first laid eyes on Anna’s mother twenty years ago. He loved her the moment he laid eyes on her. She, unfortunately, loved John. If things had only been different, but they weren’t. Stephen continued drinking the scotch as he reminisced about Emily Wellington, the love of his life, although so unrequited. He thought of her long flowing blonde hair and her innocent blue eyes. Why hadn’t she been wearing her seat belt the day of the accident? Emily always wore a seat belt. A tear began to stream down Stephen’s cheek as the thought of the possibilities that would never be, not now. Anna crossed his mind for a moment. Since she looked just like her father, Stephen’s thoughts quickly returned to Emily. As the bottle of scotch neared the bottom, Stephen’s guilt of Emily’s death urged him to apologize to her. He took some stationary from the old oak wood desk’s top drawer and began to pen a letter to Emily. He explained all the details of his horrific plan in detail, the payoff, the cut brake lines, his hope of her surviving the crash and eventually marrying

Danni contemplated turning around and going only god knows where but before Danni could decide she was yanked out of her thoughts by an abnormally loud horn blaring from a car. Sighing she jerked her bike forward and away from the packed Diner. Danni's figure biked down a wide road, not quite leisurely, for her large backpack hanging off of her back had started to dig into their shoulders, but happy. The girl was happy because of the easy escape, she had left the commotion of the town many times. The girl smiled there was the worn path down to the center of her small town, snaking through the trees to meet the rocky dirt roads. Danni had always loved the buzz of the new, the thrill of the unknown, the seeking of new answers that push her limits.

Once Jordan finally got done packing, she told Drew, “I love you, and will see you as soon as I can”. Jordan looked nice, professional, and classy; she was ready for whatever this meeting was about. The taxi ride to the airport was so long, it felt like she would miss her flight. But, finally the taxi pulled into a free spot in the airport drop-off section. “Thank you sir!” she told the taxi driver. “Yeah whatever.” He replied. Why are people so rude in New York? She asked herself. She got her ticket,

Getting a ride back was more trouble than it was worth, but Regan had gotten good at public transit, even if her prior experience before moving to the city had consisted of the school bus. Having a car again would be nice, someday, but now it was an expense of it in the city was one she didn't need. For now, there was PT, Uber, a taxi or friends when public transit or her feet didn't suffice. Her mind was filled with thoughts of Power Exchange and the shoot, and, of course, Matt, enough that she had no exact memories of the faces traveling alongside her, save that a couple had mistaken her inner smiles as outwardly directed, but a quick, distracted wave, a 'don't mind me' shrug, and she had made her escape, her sneakers (her heeled boots now residing in her shoulder bag) making little rubbery thumps upon pavement and grate while she hurried.

Looking out at the window, the view was filled with thousands of car speeding alongside the bus, houses began to fade away as mountain began to spout in their place, and as I tune out, I take my phone out and search through the library for books to read. Soon enough I drift off to sleep along with Magvern and my mother. After 2 hours, we arrive at our first stop, Avenal. The place filled like swarming bees and the line at subway was as long as amusement park’s waiting line. The tables by the store were covered with droplets of bird’s dung. We find out seats on the grass and soon enough, more began to follow. Eventually we arrive at the Sacramento Greyhound Bus Station from the eight hour ride with sleepy passengers, my mother, brother, and I waited for my father to pick us up so that we can spend our fourth of july weekend together. Once he arrived, our first stop was the shopping mall; however, due to arriving late, only a few store were open. The area was empty with the exception of some families still roaming around the open stores. On July 3rd, we went swimming in the Sacramento