Creative Story : A Short Story

Amelia is laying in her bed crying. My mom and I sit on her bed next to her. My mom starts

She saw in her dream what was about to happen, looming around her in her unconsciousness, creeping into her when she was asleep, a shadowy premonition of what was coming to shatter her.

“Danny, this is just another murder with a victim. Trust me, I don’t want to be here any more than you do, but this is our job and we have to take it for what it is,” he spoke softly, his words eliciting candle light of life to spring up from behind the mask of Danny’s face.

He pushes her of him, as she falls on the shining white tiles of the hallway. She rolls onto her stomach and pleads for him not to leave, crawling and grabbing onto his leg. He wiggles his left leg, unhinging her and leaving her on the tiles scream for him to return. He heads for the door and leaves leaving her crying on the floor.

“You need to stop treating me like you’re my mother! You were never pregnant with me so there is no need for you to treat me like i’m your son! And there is no need for you Mr.clayton to treat me any different than the other students in this building!” “Mr.rosa! I am done coddling you for the last time! You are suspended for 2 weeks for all the fighting and damages to school property you have done in the past month,” Mr.Clayton shouted. The entire room went silent even the other counselors outside went quiet for a good 30

Margaret bolted awake, screaming but she stopped screaming as she came to the realization that it was only a nightmare. She decided she need some fresh air so she stepped out and started to walk attempting to forget the dream but it was so vivid and was glued to her brain but that wasn’t all she think about, Edward was also on her mind,

Jean's on the verge of tears himself as he watches Armin scrub the aforementioned tears from his cheeks with a torn, overused Kleenex.

”Your son's grave has been grave robbed and his body is not there anymore.” he said in a quivering voice

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

Tears fell in a gush. Clear snot dripped from his nose, dribbling into his mouth. Vasyl curled into a ball and sobbed.

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!

The shrieks and wailing he hears from the lady in the dream are so intense and realistic that he truly believes the dream actually happens. He is extremely delusional, but knows that it regards to the murder: “‘But why, why, and how could it be?’ he repeated, thinking seriously that he had gone mad . . .’for no doubt . . .

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

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.

“Jackson, don’t you see. There was just a kid that disappeared, how did you not see that?”