Creative Story : A Short Story

With a grimace, he closed the distance between them. “Much obliged. Damn outlaws ambushed me,” he said.

THE WOODS APPEARED completely and utterly empty. Climbing up onto one of the guard platforms beside Bellamy and Clarke, there was nothing that she could visibly spot hiding between the trees. Both her and Bellamy searched for anyone in the scopes of their weapons, but there was nothing.

He looked down at the floor and panic filled his eyes just as it did when she first saw him. “Please come here.” Ronan whispered almost too quiet for her to hear.

I plunk down by the fire and roll up my pant leg to reveal the sting on my knee. To my surprise, Rue places the handful of leaves into her mouth and begins to chew them. My mother would use other methods, but it’s not like we have a lot of options. After a minute or so, Rue presses a gloppy green wad of chewed leaves and spit on my knee. 200 “Ohhh.”

“We’re all a little shaken,” Bob started, “but we’re okay. I don’t think they’ll catch us after that kind of attack.”

Aiden said with a smirk on his face. “Why? You scared?” They all laughed began to walk again.

“It was my axe,” The other looked at him sadly. “I’ve been feeling very guilty these past few nights. It’s kept me up.” And they turned back to the hills, an understanding between friends filling the silence of the mountains.

“It’s best if you don’t go back in there,” he said. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

"Wake up!" My dad yells as he pulls the curtains out. He let the bright light blind me. "Your friend is downstairs, you're such a heavy sleeper." "Give me 5 minutes! just 5 minutes and I'll be done!" I yelled back at my dad. Before I walked downstairs, I grabbed some toast and reached for the big bag of snacks, you know in case I get hungry. "Dad I'll be back by 5. Bye bye!" I said while walking down stairs.

Peggy gave a long sigh while sitting at her window in her spacious living room watching the raindrops travel down the panes of cold, foggy glass. She felt just as dark and gloomy inside as the rain made it look outside, because her little Logan was upstairs packing. Although he wasn't so little anymore since he was packing to go into the Air Force. She gave another sigh as she thought of how lonesome it would be in that large house all alone after he left. He had been her saving grace since his dad had died while doing his tour of duty. The equipment in the plane he had been a co-pilot in tragically crashed. It was so unexpected, so life changing. She tried to be strong for her son but she knew in her cloudy mind and broken heart she had failed. He had been the strong one for the last three years. Now she would have to be strong for him, she couldn't make him feel guilty for going on with his life, for living.

He was riddled with pain had never felt before as his mother carried his limp burning body through the double doors after the nurse. His body was on fire, his stomach was being twisted in knots. He was breathing, but it was shallow and noisy. Sweat beaded from his forehead, drenching him as his pajamas stuck to his body. He felt himself being placed roughly onto a firm surface, he could smell fresh sheets and disinfectant. An unknown man asked, “How long?” another more familiar one said, “A few days, but in the last two hours… oh my god, he just passed out and started shaking.” He couldn’t understand. Another voice, female, spouted a string of what sounded like gibberish, and suddenly something being wrapped around his left arm and his clothes were being cut away. “Oh no, not my pjs, mums going to kill you.” He thought to himself. His chest bare, a cold object was pressed against it in different places in turn. His head was violently jerked backward and his jaw pushed forward. It hurt. He tried to lift his arms to push them away but there was no hope. His mouth fell open as he was dragged upwards. A soft object was shoved under his back so that his head lulled backward. A metal object was thrust into his mouth and a tube passed over it into his airways. He so badly wanted to gag on it. “What the hell are they doing? I can’t breathe!” he thought of saying but for some reason he no longer had the ability to speak.

On a dark and stormy night, in a small restless town hidden in the Himalayan Mountains. Their

He guessed they were all at the borderline legal drinking age, which, in his opinion, made them the worst kind of person to bump into on a street utterly devoid of anybody else. Callum wasn't usually bothered by the appearance of kids their age. Or any kids really. Oh sure, the little terrors called him names, on occasion, threw stuff at him and generally tried to make him feel like some low-grade animal, but they never got physical, not even the older ones. He could handle himself and the locals knew that. Word got around.

The 9mm pistol cocking vibrated in the air. Wilkin pressed the barrel against the left side of his temple, his finger on the trigger. Dawn cut through the intense blackness, and the first rays of light reflected off the gun and the silhouette of a single figure on the boulder. Swallowing, he blinked to ward off the tears forming at the crevices of his eyes.

Jack smiled as he walked down the street to Chris’s house, he had already had breakfast but knew he could expect another once he got there. Jack glanced over the water at the brightening sky. The sun had not risen yet today but there was already signs of activity in the city, workers moving around the port, ships getting ready to sail, and several small shops opening their doors. However, as he moved inward past the common district and into the bureaucratic district people were only just beginning to awake, though of course it was already in the third hour of morning. He also knew that Chris would still be in bed at this time, and expected he would arrive at Chris’s house soon after he arose.