After High School: A Fictional Narrative

The smoke from the now roaring fire could be seen seeping out the windows where girls stood at the ledge, just waiting to jump; screams could be heard while the young women were looking down at the

The house grew darker as he travelled through, hoping he entered the right room. He stumbled over a pile of wood left from the flooring. Catching himself, he called out to the girl again.

“We have to get them out of there!” I heard voices yelling out in the distance, but was to lightheaded to know where they were coming from.

“Ugh, whatever let’s just go,” said Ralph, pushing off the side of the building and starting to walk.

She pressed the child close to her and with an unmovable gaze tightened her grip on him, taking in every detail. I paused and watched. I knew that as soon as I told her, the same creamy white walls of the hospital room that once held her uncontrollable euphoria over the birth of her son, would seem harrowing and confining.

It lasted only a minute, then he pulled her nightgown back down roughly and her blanket to her chin. His breathing had intensified, and it scared Angie. He sounded like an animal when he breathed like that. He sounded as if he would hurt. Father stood there for a long minute, his breath coming in harsh gasps. Then, as soon as it had started, he left.

Veronica’s heart pounded as she stepped into the fire’s embrace. Sweat beaded on her neck as she felt the death throes of the burning house writhing around her.

Darkness inside the cabin intensified her fear, but she didn’t dare risk a light. Long minutes crawled by before she summoned enough courage to feel her way to the bed. Drained, she curled on the bed and pulled the patchwork quilt over her head, blocking out painful memories and chilly night air. Vigorous thumps from the baby loosened the iron grip of panic. Rachel's arms instinctively curved around her belly. At first, she despised the child, but now she loved it

Like a shot, he charged up a hillock to the smoldering shell of the family 's house. His foster sisters might have escaped into the forest. Heart thundering, he searched the ruins, praying to find nothing within. Sweat rolled down his face and into his eyes, mingling with the swirling ash and soot.

He gathered up his things and headed out. The house was kind if far from where he lived so he decided he would run as fast as he could to get to her house.

He rushed quickly to where she was, rushing forward even faster as his wife stumbled out of their daughter's room.

him space. “Someone go grab me blankets and paper towels from the nearest house” he yelled,

This year I will turn seventeen. My god I need to start living before it's too late. I want to be a freshman again. If i’m honest I want to be a sixth grader again. I hate growing up. I don't like freedom. Most people surrounding me are excited that they are going to be an adult soon. Most people surrounding me want graduation to come quicker. Most people surrounding me can't wait to get space from their parents. It seems that I just don't have the same perspective as others. I wish to go back and redo my past not to change it but to make it last. My youth is withering away. This year it occurred to me that I can't stay a child

Like most people, I didn't grow up knowing exactly what I wanted to do as an

I started to hyper-ventilate, I wanted curl into a ball until this storm passed. What was making me so scared, so unsettled? I had been in this forest in the summer