A Tale 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

When the clock struck 2:00, Herthe and the boy were walking away from the school and to their next destination. Unsurprisingly, the boy grew hungry, and Herthe decided that it was best to eat at a restaurant. Doing so, they would be able to bring leftovers home. Her phone made a “ding-ding” sound, indicating a text message. Herthe pulled her phone out of her pocket and found that Vivian sent her a message.

The old house groaned and creaked. Blake stepped over a pile of bloody glass. Someone, no something, had jumped through the window. She didn’t want to see anything more, but her feet kept moving. Blake turned the corner. The door to the parlour was ripped off it’s hinges. She didn't dare make a sound, the monster was still here, and it wanted her. The parlour couch was slashed open, it's stuffing falling out. A nasty red stain colored the white couch. A arm,mangle and shredded, was lying under the couch. Blake resisted the urge to throw up. She ran into the kitchen, trying to hide from her fate. A stench of blood filled my nostrils. Blake turned her head. A girl her age was lying on the floor. Her long blonde hair was matted with blood. Her neck was twisted at an odd angle. She had a bloody stump from where her arm was torn out of its socket. Long cuts indicated where an inhuman creature clawed open her chest.I had never seen her before. She was just a guest at this party. Blake knew Maia was here. Even if Blake found her, it was probably too late.

The wind is soft but strong, my hair flowing behind me and also in my face, I don’t bother to pull it back because I forgot my hair tie at home. “I could stay here forever,” I say to myself. I am at my favorite place to be when I need time to myself. I found this place when I was thirteen and have been coming back since then. It is on the very top of the highest hill there is in the camp and there is a beautiful old tree that has been there forever, I climb to the top and just stare.

My mother died when I was just 3 years old. I do not remember much of her, other than a glimpse of her face, smiling down at me. My father is a distant man. He has never said more than a few words at a time to me, even during our study sessions. He will assign me a lesson, and simply watch as I complete it. My only confidant is Ms. Matilda, the family maid. She takes the time to listen to me.

It was windy and foggy that day. I don’t even remember getting lost. All I remember were the other kids telling me to hide in the trees. Honestly, I don’t know if they even liked me. They always kept telling me I couldn’t talk to them in a group, but I just thought they were talking in private.

“Laura Lioness Longface! You get down here this instant!” A voice shouted. “You are in deep, deep water this time!”

What makes a story truly remarkable? Is it the beginning, the newborn innocence of it all? Or the ending, the obsession of having a perfect fantasy farewell?

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.

His story began when he was a little boy living in America with his parents. Timmy was at his friend's house for a sleepover when he heard sirens. He looked out the window and saw the red fire trucks going in the direction of his house. He didn’t think anything of it, he thought it was a normal fire. The next day he got a call and it was from the local police station telling him that his parents died in a fire late last night. He was torn, he had three days to say goodby to all his friends in the US before he had to go to France. He was forced to go to France and live with his Aunt and Uncle. When he got there he was looking for their house for two days but could not find them. So, he went to get food at the local bread store and the owner had seen him around looking lost. He offered him a job and a home. Timmy called the owner Pere which means father in french He accepted and he worked and lived with the owner for many years.

On February 27, 2011 I was woken up by a bad dream around eight thirty on a chilly Sunday morning. My father was home sheltered away from the sleet and rain and I have no idea where my mother was, she did not work that day, but possibly she was at the store. Everything seemed more dim today, but at least it was my grandma’s and my first sleepover together.This event shaped me into the person I am today because I finally realized that life is not fair and people die, but it does not mean that they are gone. This is about the day my world flipped upside down. The day grandma would really disappear.

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.

I will be the best and only the best... I will crush my opponents. I will crush the competition. I will crush that ball. I am the Greatest of All Time. I am Josh Smith.

Sit back, grab a bowl of popcorn, and get ready for what’s about to happen next. The initials A.S. will stick in my mind for the rest of my life. A.S. was a boy. He was a very important boy as matter of fact, or at least during my junior year of high school I thought he was important. But, to what extent is someone else’s importance greater than your own? Here I will explain to you a story of the boy who stole my self-worth and helped me gain it back. It begins in the end of December of the year 2016. Rumors of a new kid at school rung in my ears like church bells on a sunday morning (I don’t attend church but that’s besides the point). “He’s so hot” “I wonder what grade he’s in” all that fun mumbo jumbo. I’m not going to lie this is not a story of love at first sight because when I saw him, I did not see what all the hype was about. He was tall, so very tall, 6’1 to be exact. His eyes were some sort of a blue green, the kind of blue green that makes you sea sick just by looking at them. He had this stupid long light brown hair that felt like a cloud of everything I ever desired when I ran my fingers through it. I prefer not use his name but so begins the story of “the boy”.

My husband ran into our small house in Sonora with this look of excitement that made me wonder what has given my husband such a big smile on his face. I ask him, “Joaquin what is it what is going on?” He told me in that giddy boyish voice that I loved so much, “There is GOLD up in Alta California.” I gave him a confused look thinking “What did that have to with us.” As my confused look stayed and the seconds passed he grabbed my hands and said, “This is our chance to leave Sonora and for me to finally be able to give you a bigger home if I am able to get my hands on some gold.” Still fathomed by the idea I tell him “but our family is here in Sonora.” He laughs and goes on to say that but our dreams can be in California and if anything our family will always be here. I sighed and he jumped knowing full well that I was going to cave and tell him yes. I could never resist when he was like this. My crazy husband had a dream and as his wife it was my job to support him. We packed up some food and water along with some clothes in our little suitcase. I wish I could say we set off with dreams filling our heads and hopes on the horizon, but we had some road blocks before we were able to leave. Eventually we left heading to find my brother-in-law in San Francisco. It being my first time in San Francisco but my husbands second so he began to be amazed in how it had changed from his first visit to San Francisco. He was excited to see what these Americans have transformed the society.