Creative Story : A Short Story

"Ha! Gotcha now, doll!" Byron had dropped Jill off at Charles' place, to pursue her. He was gaining on CJ; so much that he could see her dashboard. He tapped her bumper from behind, and latched onto it. They were attached for miles. CJ steered her car into the rural area of town. She geared it in reverse and jumped out the door. Byron was thrown through his back windshield. She ran from both vehicles, as far as possible. Byron was after her; he couldn't allow her to live with the truth. It was a brick wall; she was trapped.

“Oh Dang! He said under his breath. The church is on fire! “Let's go see what the deal is.”

Stepping out onto her small porch Laurel placed her hands her hands at her hips, head turning from side to side, to gaze at the city. Everything looked so peaceful, it was hard to believe that sooner or later everything would change, war was on the horizon whether they like it or not. She muttered out a sigh as she reached her hand up to rub at her forehead. She blinked a few times when she caught sight of Cain. “Here goes nothing.” She mumbled to herself as she walked down the small steps. She met Cain at the gates, a slight smile played at her lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to keep everything in check. I won’t allow anyone to blow anything up.” She stated with a slight nod of her head. Her right hand fell to rest atop her gun, “Make sure you don’t kill anyone else Cain. If we want to win this war we are going to need the numbers.” She muttered out in a soft voice, a hint of announce could be heard.

“Run! Trav there gaining on us!” screamed Aaron. The tall, 17 year old boy, with dark brown hair was what seemed like miles in front of Travis, his younger brother, even carrying all the supplies for 3 people. Travis, looking back every couple of seconds, weakly yelled “Wait Arron to the right that should take u- us back!” Arron took a sharp right into an alley way. He tackled the few biters that were in the way to clear a path so his brother could get through safely. “Righ- no go left! Your left!” After following his brother’s directions they made it back to the main road where there dad was waiting, screaming, with the window down for them to hurry. Arron threw the large duffel bags into the back of his dads old, 2 door, 2000 Dodge Dakota with the dented hood. Travis bolted around the truck to the opened door on the other side and leaped to safety while, Arron hopped in the back and tapped the top of the truck 3 times signaling to his dad it was okay to go. Immediately after they speed away down the highway littered with crashed cars, corpses, abandoned suitcases, and much more. Aaron let out a deep breath and sat with his arm perched on the side of the truck as he watched as the horde of zombies faded away. He slid around the cooler and pulled out a Gatorade, wiping away the water that dripped from the bottle, with the bottom of his ACDC shirt. He slid open the back glass of the truck and handed it to Travis. His dad glared at Arron then told his

It was a dark halloween night. 7 year old Sophie and 13 year old Tommy were just heading home from trick-or-treat. Their town was a good place to go trick-or-treating.The neighbors always knew what candy the kids wanted. They remarkably knew what the Robinson family liked. (Sophie and Tommy) Just as they were heading in the door, Tommy saw something strange across the street. It was something he had never seen before. He saw his father watching television and he could smell fresh collard greens, mashed potatoes, and a big juicy steak. All he could think about was eating but he kept looking over at that house figure. Immediately, he took Sophie in and told his mom he was going to the Little Quick Market around the corner to get salt and pepper. Of course she said okay. Tommy slowly walked over toward the house.

"Where the fuck are we going, the border's West." The hulking six-foot three, heavily tattooed Latino removed a ham-size first from the steering wheel and glared at the man in the passenger seat.

Aiko was slumped forward over the table. The private dining hall was perfect, quiet and peaceful.

The girl bolted to the door, eyes darting wildly through the smoke-filled room. The flames licked at her heels as she ran, barefoot, out the front door of the once friendly dwelling. She panted, her glazed eyes looking back at her former home. Her small body collapsed onto the pavement, tears crashing down her tanned face. She heard the muffled cries from her parents in still inside. The parents she couldn’t protect. The parents she killed.

Michael was dreaming. He was a boy in his father's ranch and he'd been bad again, playing in the snow against the strict warning of his mother. Doggedly, he'd sneaked out of the house, running wild in the snow covered field, even skating on the frozen lake not far from the house. Mother said, “not to,” because the ice wasn't solid enough, but he did anyways like always. As it turned out, his mom was right. He felt the ice crack under him, bleeding with icy water. He wanted to be calm and savvy his way out, but he heard the neighbor's dogs barking, perturbing him. The dog was usually friendly, but not today. In a panic and effort to escape, he sank to his waist in the ice. He was going to drown!

As the game flowed on, layups, three pointers, and any basket you think of were raining like snow falling out of the sky. Players talking smack, coaches yelling at each other and parents steaming in fury over the performance of their children, especially mine. A major loss by 8, to the worst team in the league. When the game ended, my sister snatched me into the car and drove me home, in silence. I had no idea what was going on, I asked myself did someone just lose their bestfriend? As thoughts were running through my mind, I didn’t know what to think. I arrived at my house and just ran up into my room, avoiding all verbal contact.

A moron named Jack lived with his half moron mother in a rusty devastated shack on a rotten farm growing only thorns. All they had that was considered a luxury was their skinny cattle that produced very little milk. As soon as the cattle stopped producing milk, the mother wanted Jack to go sell it.

As Thanksgiving was coming to a close. Two figures left a warm, cozy house. The aroma of many foods drafted out the door before it slammed shut. The figures was a boy and a girl both closely related but not so. The girl had blue eyes and blonde hair with pale skin while the boy had hazel eyes and brown hair and tan skin.

Lord Fox laughed as he hugged the child close. 'Have you thought about any names for him, Aunt Eliza?'

“Hello Mr. Johnson”, Alexandra says as she walks across the room towards him. “Please, call me Jeff, and tell me, darling, do you want a tattoo this time?” His smile showcases his golden teeth. “I'm afraid not Mr. Johnson, as I’ve said countless times before, I'm not going to get one more.” she stopped 5 centimeters in front of him. Smiling. “You only have one, on your ankle and it’s not big, or meaningful.”

It was dark out in Central City. Barry’s mom Nora tucked him up and gave him a kiss, she said “sweet dreams my beautiful boy”. Barry went to sleep. A few hours past by. Barry woke up to strange sounds. He saw the water of his fish bowl levitate. It was happening all over his room! He went downstairs and he saw a red and yellow blur. He started screaming because his mom was on the floor with a knife in her heart. In a split second he saw a man in the yellow blur, then he disappeared. His dad, Henry said “run barry run” and out of nowhere he was blocks away from his house.