A Story Of A Short Story

Austin felt his stomach turning end over end as he propped dumb ol’ Judd on his horse. By the time he got the even dumber brother Obadiah on his horse, he was hurling last night’s meal. Jess walked up to Austin and offered him a cup of hot coffee. Austin said, “Thanks, Jess. I needed this.” “I know boy. I think we’d best wait a few minutes before we hit the trail. You look greener than the high mountain grass where the cattle graze.” Chuckled Jess, trying to lighten things up. Austin just shook his head as he laid it back down between his legs. “Funny, Jess. Real, funny!” “I know! That’s what makes it even funnier! It ain’t me offeren’ up my last nights vittles to the buzzards. I just hope you finish before they figure you to be a tasty morsel.” Jess was laughing as he walked over and saddled up Austin’s horse. He’d already made plans on how to maneuver the dead men and their horses along with their own down the dangerous trail. With this much coverage, surely they could come through almost any trouble without too much harm. Once Jess double checked everything and secured everyone; he hollered, “Let’s move em’ out boy.” Jess and Austin walked side by side on the wide parts of the trail. Austin felt safe in the middle of the dead men and their horses. Looking over at Jess, he said, “Jess, I’ve been thinken’. Back at the campsite this mornen,’ these fella’s made me mighty sick for meeting them. Now, I feel real good about them riden’ along with us. In fact, I’m grateful their concerned about our well being. Who would have thought the Wilson boys would be for protecten’ someone other than themselves?” Jess began to roar with laughter saying, "Now your a thinken' right." Austin loved his laugh. It came deep from within and was so contagious anyone would have to laugh along. Jess reminded Austin that it was a time to laugh. So hoot all you want. We might not get the chance again.” Moving on down the trail, Austin spoke to Jess about killing. Jess wasn’t comfortable about the subject but shared his knowledge with him as he saw fit. “Killen. No good comes of it. No matter the situation, it’s no good. Someone always dies and someone has to live with it. Ya see, killen’ is an evil

The knock at the door startled Dana. She set the Bible she was reading aside, stood, and approached the door.

“Here,” Dean left his stoves and knelt down beside her. “I can’t let you clean up my mess.”

It was a cold Thursday in Tennessee when Arden returned home from school to see about three suitcases fully packed and sitting by the door. She would soon realize that these three suitcases were the start of her life completely changing.

One evening in late fall a young innocent girl named Mary was walking along the road when she saw a poor defenseless lamb. She started to approach the lamb, and as she got closer… and closer… and closer, mary notices something around the lamb's neck. It was a collar of some sort but did not have a name tag on it. She decided to take it home and put signs up for a missing lamb. When they got back to Mary’s house the lamb noticed that the house was kind of mysterious looking, two gargoyles were placed at each side of the porch along with a statue of a weeping angel.

Mavis can hear shouting. She can tell it’s Ian because they have had plenty of yelling matches before, but instead of differing tastes in movies, Mavis can tell there is true contempt in his voice. Rattling her head, she can faintly see Leon collapsed on the other side of the room. Her heart tugs. She tries to talk to him, yet Ian’s voice drowns her out. Mavis wants to scream at Ian until she looks at him, and he his face isn’t twisted with anger, but fear. She follows his line of sight to a man that looks like he is what caused the gorge in the Grand Canyon by jumping down a little hard. The giant man is doing a pitiful job of ignoring Ian since his face is red and keeps glowering at Ian. Mavis uses the luck that The Forest gave her to encompass Ian with fortune. Her luck is noticeably weaker than normal, and Mavis understands that they were taken far from the school, and further from The Forest. She tries to move her hands, but they seem to be restrained. When she looks up, there are stars. Ian stops berating the man when a door opens to let in magnolias and councilwomen Morris. Mavis’s can’t comprehend the situation, but Ian seems to understand something because instead of yelling profanities he casts a spell that breaks whatever was holding his hands together. Mavis watches as Ian fends off physical attacks from the giant man and bolts of lightning from Morris that crackle the sky above and sends a blanket of shattered glass onto them. Ian isn’t attempting to be careful because Mavis is supporting him. He seems to know that by just moving around her luck will make him step away from the bombarding duo. Without Mavis noticing, Leon is standing and casting weaker spells than Ian. Morris easily paralyzes Leon, which gives Ian time to cast illegal spells that opens a glittering fissure in the room and that causes the giant man to bleed from his pores. Mavis feels her restraints burst from her wrists in flames. Ian is an amazing multitasker she notes. He is also at Leon’s side. Before Morris can summon another surge of strikes, Mavis tackles her. Ian takes the opportunity to toss Leon into the fissure. Mavis recognizes it as a portal now. She learned about illegal spells in school, and the portal takes the

“Yeah right!” Anna yelled as she kicked her horse and came chasing after me. We stopped at my grandpa’s farm.

Knowing that her day was going to end in disaster, Marsha drove down the road from work cautiously. Her hand gripped the wheel firmly as she dodged the chances of crashing. At the same time she was trying her best to analize her day. The wonders of winning the contest first popped up in line. She dreamed of the prizes and the speech Tonas Lightning made. But the excruciating memory of Mrs. Jones’s insult blurred her vision. So she chose to forget about it. Marsha remembered when she ran up to her room one December day to find most of her advantages stolen. Then the incident when Mr. Guy whacked her eye causing a nasty black eye to appear on her beautiful face, in her opinion. But the note she stole was really pressuring her mind.

My sister looks at me with boredom as I walk around. The house was basically empty with only us in the house since my parents were in a “car accident.” I walk upstairs throwing my body onto the bed, letting my eyes begin to get heavy, slowly drifting into sleep... I jolt up putting my hand on my head. It had seemed like somebody had shrieked out loud which made me wake up. I hear it again, a loud, painful shriek from downstairs.

The smell of smoke fills my room as I wake up. I can see flames rising through my door. I throw the covers off and jump out of bed. I jump over the fire and run into my parent’s room. They’re still asleep.

Meril held up a linen napkin. “Chartreuse?” she said, waving it in front of Harriet’s face.

The air turned black all around me, there was no one and nothing in sight. I was wandering in the desert in the dark all alone. Me and two of my friends Jeffrey and Taylor took a trip to Egypt to see the nile river and explore the desert. So we were enjoying our trip when out of nowhere a sandstorm brewed up, The storm being so hectic caused us to be separated from each other. So I am now lost and alone. Up till the storm the trip had been fun filled and stress relieving.

I sit through the boring lecture about amarras day. Im her echo, a backup. When she dies, I take her place. I'm like a carbon copy of her. Besides the little E tatooed on the back of my neck. Natalie, my “mentor” As scarlett calls her. She's talking away. She loves talking. She calls for a break because she can clearly see how bored I am. I go to our tiny kitchen and grab a snack. I'm not supposed to have a name, but scarlett gave me the name eva, Short for evangeline. When I was younger, I never understood why I had to read whatever amarra wrote or look at the pictures Natalie gives me of her life. By the things that amarra has written to me, She doesn't like and or want me. Shes always have said that I will never have what she has. Shes criticizes me all the time. Calling me a faker, a ghost. I'm glad I never have to meet her.

Emerald sobbed as she dashed through the woods, tears streaking down her face in salty waterfalls. Dragging the hilt of her hand along her face, she slowed. Emerald ignored the throbbing pain in her feet from sprinting along the brush barefoot. She continued on through the forest soon reaching a road where on the other side was a drop, and about 70 feet down, was a small river, where she hoped her life would end, where all her pain would stop and become a distant thing of her past.

He hears her voice as he lays in the grass, the leaves fall, caressing the air and resting upon the earth’s green grass.