Creative Writing: Black Night

Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.

Back in the main level of the factory, Wolf and Fox find Hawk lying on the ground, pale and unresponsive, his bulletproof vest next to him and the edges of a red stain showing around a wad of gauze. A soldier that Fox assumes is N-Unit's medic kneels next to him, along with Snake and Coyote. The three medics are talking frantically among themselves. The rest of N-Unit hovers nervously nearby; the rest of H-Unit is nowhere to be seen. Dust particles dance through the beams of sunlight from the holes where windows used to be, giving the whole scene a strangely dreamy air.

"Wake up, partners," the trail boss, James called. I sleepily looked up , shivered, and saw I was the only one not up. "Here," James said, giving me the horses' bridles and saddles. "Take these and get the horses ready. We have a long day today." I groaned in reply and set up the horses for the day's long drag. I was the horse wrangler and this was my everyday job but I still couldn't get use to the idea of waking up before the sun and working. We drove the cattle into open plains against the winter's cold wrath.

Trey pulled aside the white curtain, let a ray of sunlight dropping in his bedroom, a spatial room with gray walls, ornamented with his misty and cloudy sky floor to ceiling painting.

On the sixth road of the sixth block and the sixth house lies 666 devil blood curdling lane, the outside is not furnished seeing into the dead room of the ninth story. When seeing this blackened smoke house where the sun never shines it will send tingles of despite and sorrow ness down your broken back and a shrilled noise through your ear. The shape shifter at the front of the house will beguile you in right before they change into a soul sucking monster, and will suck the life right out of you and use your bones as they new walkway going into the big mysterious bold blackened door. When the ninety year old trees lean over to all the bedroom's windows it will keep you up all night with the screeching sound of it scratching on the window.

“Anything that can help us find out who did this.” I said, examining the crime scene. I walked towards what used to be the glass case that held the crown, but was now a useless, shattered cube.

Clint quietly entered his office, exhausted from the foot work he has been doing and struggling to breathe with all that he wears to look proper. Taking off his coat, pulling his suspenders off, and just as he is unbuttoning his shirt the short black man smells the air. The musty air of his office wasn’t right. Reaching into his coat’s hidden pocket he pulls out his gun and time feels like it slows as his ears check for every little sound. Then he heard it. A filing cabinet very carefully sliding shut in the filling room.

Dr. Owens tells me it's called Sciophobia. He says I’m afraid of shadows. But they’re not just shadows, and no one, no one believes me. Everyone just always accepts the fact that shadows are there, casted when light is draped over an object. Darkness, that's what they truly are. Infinite darkness. They are the demons we are born with; they follow us from birth to death.

A narrow shaft of sunlight radiated through the awning window, the shimmering beam shining directly upon Booker’s upturned face. With a moan, the young officer fought his way back to consciousness, and opening his eyes, he squinted against the brightness of the luminous rays. A bone-shaking shiver immediately ran down the length of his body, and pushing himself to a sitting position, he drew up his knees and wrapped his arms tightly around his legs. The temperature in the room had dropped rapidly during the night, but he had remained blissfully unaware due in part to the head injury he had sustained from the force of the ceramic phone smashing into his skull. But the memory of the assault soon returned in vivid color and lifting his hand

“Some people say I was lucky to survive, other will say I deserved it for the choice I made. I’m here to say I was lucky, it’s never ok to say your life isn’t worth living even at your worst you can always look forward tomorrow will come and if you put your mind to it you’ll see that anything is possible.” – Stephen McGregor Professional Paralympian

(Gets out of bed, sits on bed) *deep sigh* Thoughts. Thoughts have been flying sharply through my head like an arrow. Thoughts have made me insomniac ever since I fled Scotland. I am living a restless nightmare. With my beloved father murdered, what am I to do? Indeed, he had educated me with the agendas to become a great king. But I am still in my youth, an adolescent who is not yet suitable to rule a great kingdom! I’m not ready…….. Will I ever be ready?

My vision was still blurry, from the collision. At least for all I knew, I was the only one. I started shouting at the top of my lungs, “Is anybody still there!” Though I knew I was shouting, I heard nothing, but ringing. After leaving the ship wreck I turned around, and saw the horrific scene that was the boat. My last former fighters that fought with me in Troy, were nothing but bloody olives scattered about the shore. Most were impaled with planks and oars, but the gruesomest thing I saw was, a man about the age of 27, impaled through his right eye, and the object extruding through his lower back. Nobody was left. The pain suddenly hit me all through my right arm. I had an iron spike from the ship, lodged in my bicep. I

Beads of sweat rolled down my face as my eyes darted back and forth at the recruits slowly trickling in onto the bleachers. My hands were clammy, knife hands overlapped in the middle of my back as I stood in formation at parade rest. I frowned my eyebrows together, analyzing each recruit and singling out the ones that looked like a mess. Messy bun? No siree! Stubbly face? Where was that razor? It was Black Saturday, the first day at the LASD Sheriff Explorers Police Academy, a leadership institute where high school students learn to become better leaders and get a firsthand look into the lives of Police Officers. This rigorous program marked the first step of my journey in becoming a better leader.

Saturday Night Light Shadows inhaled the poison light, as a finch crossed my eye path and in the moment seemed suspended before me: its small feet almost baggy beneath knotted plumage. I saw myself traverse the cosmos on a curve of time like the moon’s arrant eating when it is rising; how its glow tangos at last on the eyelids. Settling into the reiteration of evening making this one place the spot where you were. Hope is all the sap that runs downhill following that old path as water might, with its innate grace to become affixed to any one place, as a delicate vine or a ballerina floating on a toe.

The cold winter breeze is penetrating my skin; I feel the chill in my bones and start to shiver out of control. As I am lying down in the lawn of my home, all I can see is parts of the garden in the moonlight. I gather my last bit of strength and get up to knock the front door of my home again. There is still no response from my father. Hunger is driving my actions as I try to break-in and fail again and again. With no other options left I decide to go break the window near the door with a stone and try to open the door from the inside. After breaking the window, I can see my mother is still lying down in the floor and I try shouting to wake her up. There is no response from her at all. I feel the dizziness spreading in my head. As I try to unlock the door through the window opening, I feel the lights shutting down inside me and I fall down to the