Creative Writing: The Dark Sidewalk

One day, cutting through the swamp, David comes across the remains of old Indian souls and discovers a skull with jewelry still buried on the bodies. As David kicks at the skull, he hears a voice and looks up to see a black man seated on a stump just looking. The man, wearing a black sash around his body, has a soot-stained face, which makes it appear as if he works in some fiery place. David soon recognizes the stranger as the devil, the black man. Twenty years later we had a family reunion with all my relatives and they started talking about the fire.

The driver, Cecilia Blair, of vehicle 1 was traveling north through the intersection of N. State St. and Flint St. when she had a collision with vehicle 2. The driver, Jacqueline Muir, of vehicle 2 was heading west on Flint St. when she was struck by vehicle 1.

I comfortably drive my car into the desolate street, Perusing the deserted buildings, Smashes windows and rusted For Sale signs. The car locked up like Fort Knox. I observe the street for trouble. Two young boys look at me from afar as if I'm an alien. Do I stand out that much same greasy hair, expensive clothes, a smart car I suppose I am out of my comfort zone? “Mister, you don’t belong here” his hand gripped his switch. “Pony.... Ponyboy Curtis” I stammer “I live here or at least I did, I'm here to see two-bit’ The Boys turn around “geez his old now” the boy's chirp. The boys stroll away in awe that they saw the great Ponyboy.

We came to a stream of light. Where was that coming from? Not ahead, but overhead. When we looked up, we saw a grating. There were only cold steel bars, unmoving bars, and not a way out. Forge on. The smell was all over us now and caused frequent gags. Carole asked, “How far do you think this tunnel goes?” I said, “I don’t know. I don’t even know where the tunnel goes. I’m hoping far enough to get under the freeway.” Carole squeaked out, “I’m scared. It’s really creepy in here.” “ I know,” offering some

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.

“Dad, I can’t talk, I'm heading out right now,” I said while hugging the phone with my shoulder up to my ear. He told me to be cautious on the roads, considering the blizzard we had just had a few days ago. It was an unusually calm day in the suburbs of Chicago, Illinois. A perfect day to travel, the snow on the ground glistened as it had just been freshened with a new coat from the light snowfall early this morning. The sun was barely noticeable from the distance as the tip of it lit up the outline of city. It gave the trees a soft glow making it look like there were thousands of microscopic diamonds floating off the branches of the bare trees through the breeze, carrying them across the neighborhood and greeting themselves at the window

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.

Marc Sarcolo awoke with a start. Rising up, he looked around the room. A lime green, slimy, shining substance happened to be scattered around his once dark room, lighting everything up. While wondering, it took him a brief moment to realize it, but that whirring noise to the left of his head gained his attention. Slowly turning his head and directing his piercing navy eyes to the left, a sky blue light in a cylinder circle shape shined onto his wooden floors. Unfortunetly, the darkness prevented him from noticing anything else. Unconciously jumping out of bed, Marc found himself walking right under the bright light like some invisible object was forcing him too, pushing him. Taking that last step into the beam of light, Marc felt squeezed like

Katy meets with Gilbert down at the courthouse and sign documents with him and they hand them in to get stamped with photographers and their parents nearby. Their document is stamped with a void and a different document is put in an envelope and passed to Gilbert. He puts it in his pocket and tries to kiss Katy, but she quickly stepped away from him in fear.

Then suddenly, a disconcerting fear latches onto your cold shoulder holding you tight. What if these walls eat you alive? What if the only things you will ever see ever again are the scuffed tile floors, plain walls, and flickering fluorescent lights? The fear makes your head spin, yet it yanks you back to this moment with its boney, thin, gray

Hell, If I could, I would have turned right around. But I couldn’t. There was still something blocking my free will. It wanted me to go inside one of the buildings. Seconds later I feel the same force dragging me towards the A lettered building. 4 windows covered with dust shadow the view from the inside. I can barely make out the structures inside. Obviously everything was abandoned, so the sound of nothingness, not even the wind, was very eery. I arrived to the front entrance. You could clearly see how old everything was. The brick and concrete were beginning to crumble, chunks of rock falling from the building's sides. A large rusty chain was keeping the twin metal doors locked with a simple padlock on them. The rust seemed as though it was severe. A simple pull and the whole thing came apart with the lock on the ground. “How long has this been here?”, i question. Rust shouldn’t have weakened the metal that much. My legs alert me once more and I continue forward march. Through the twin doors, I was in what looked like an old, burned office. There was a receptionists desk in front of me charred black, filing cabinets all around were also charred. Everything in there was burnt to a crisp. There was no smell in there, so this was not recent. I continued up to some metal stairs which made some uneasy noises. Once up there was only one place to go, a conference room of sorts. Charred tables and chairs, but my legs keep me moving. They take me

"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.

With eyes closed I stand alone, in the dark I smell the sweet scent of fresh-cut grass and feel the soft dirt under my feet. I feel the sunshine on my skin, though I cannot see it. I stand in this blissful moment until I hear a call. Desperation and panic fill the air as I blindly run towards the unknown voice. “HELP ME!” it shouts. I stumble over a log; I can feel the blood trickle down my leg. “HELP ME” another voice shouts. Gradually more and more voices call out for help tugging at my heart. I try to bury myself in my hands and collapse into the soft earth. I jump back in surprise as a cold hand gently traces my face. Tears spill out of my eyes allowing them to open; I look up and see a woman. She wears all black and has a veil over her

A lone shadow crept in the darkness, with a muffled sound of feet crunching on snow echoing in the distance during a December night in the city of Chicago. The appearance of the figure revealed herself as a woman. Her face covered inside her warm, lavender scarf, yet her eyes sparkled blue with delicacy in the pale moonlight. Long golden hair flow gracefully behind her back to her hips and seem to shine in the darkness of the night. Her body was covered in a heavy fur coat suited for the intense, frosty winter of Chicago, and her leather boots squealed with every gentle step she took.

My eye catches a light emitting blinding flashes from the depths of the place, cutting through that stagnant black. I drift toward it, entranced. The static rises as I draw nearer and nearer, as if the hair of the room itself sharpens and stiffens, up on edge like the tips of fingers brushed down an unsuspecting spine.