Creative Story : A Short Story

“My third year in first grade this year, I reckon I’ll be smart enough for second next year.”

“Okay, but if your grades start slipping you’re dropping out of one or both sports.”

"What about when you got into college, did you ever question if what you are trying to get certified in was the right path for you?"

"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.

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.

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.

"For your Fall Semester’s fifth course, you will be taking care of one of my classes. That is, consulting with me in every one of the lessons you prepare." Gibbs said and walked to the front of the class.

“No way,” I said. “Mom, I’m not a leader. The class could pick anyone. Why would they pick me?”

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

“at first, I didn’t know how to go to my lessons, but now I get it. It’s really easy.” I said.

“It’s this new advanced program that we’re going to try out for; you have to be super smart to get in.”

Once upon a time, long ago, there was a boy named Jack. He lived with his mother on an old farm and was extremely poor.

“The cake!” a cracking voice screams from the kitchen. A young, brown haired male ran to the oven “Thank god, it’s not burnt,” a sigh of relief rushes over him. He had a very slender figure that went quite well with his narrow face. He covered the base of the cake with a UT orange frosting, then with black frosting wrote “Happy 14th Birthday Aster and Alex”. He set the cake on the marble countertop and began to clean up. Moreover, Alex Strange always enjoyed the smell of baked goods, ever since he was a kid watching his father bake.

The trees zoomed past him in a blur, as he ran with everything he had. Each foot fall echoed with the beat of his heart. His lungs burned with the need of air, but he knew that their was no hope for rest. If he stopped or even slowed down, they would catch him. And he knew what would happen if they caught him. They were hunting him and in this forest there was no escape.