Creative Writing: Tom's Narrative Fiction

“No!” Phillip demanded, but before Russell could confirm the termination of the records from the computer he felt an intense pain spring out from his wrist that then it rocketed throughout his entire body. “Augh!” Russell cried as he felt himself being pulled back from the desk, the agony from searing pain guiding his every move, his control over himself stolen from him.

"Helga, Rhonda. My, My, what a pleasant suprise!" Ms. Heyerdahl answered the door, her accent thick. "Phoebe, didn't mention you gals was coming today."

“He’s 200 pounds?” I asked. He nodded. “Wow, he seemed so light.” We all laughed.

As a warm spray of water flowed over Booker’s battered flesh, the heat helped to soothe the pain radiating throughout his abused body. With a drawn-out sigh, he tilted his head forward and concentrated the steady stream over his aching neck muscles. He had spent the last three hours on his hands and knees, succumbing to each and every one of Holland’s humiliating sexual predilections, the aftermath of which had left him not only feeling demoralized but physically bruised and bleeding. However, despite the degradation he had endured, in his mind, it had all been worth it. His seventy-two-hour ‘contract’ with Holland was complete, and once showered, he would collect his recompense and put the whole sordid experience behind him. He was looking

It had taken Denise over two hours to complete her investigation. After both Fiona and Denise left, she felt nervous being in the house alone, especially after hearing what Denise had to say. She walked through each room taking the same path they had walked earlier silently wishing Ray was already home.

“Remember to watch your sister!” Mom called out as she headed off to the clothes department.

Luke put his hand on Mikes shoulder. “Mike I know you don’t believe that bull you’re saying right now.” Toni pleaded with Mike, “You have us so walk away from her.”

As Lance descended into the sewers, the metal bars that barely passed for a ladder did nothing to improve his mood. The rubber tread on the bottom of his leg kept catching awkwardly, causing him to jolt and nearly lose his grip. He jumped the last couple of rungs, landing on the cement platform with a dull thud that echoed around him. His leg popped in protest, and Lance reminded himself to be gentler on his prosthetics. He didn’t need them breaking on him.

Izzi looked around her. Everywhere were colors. The trees with their dark bark and ever changing leaves. The blue of water flowing in a nearby river. The pinks, purples, and oranges of the flowers beneath her feet. She looked down at her feet. And she saw nothing. The wind was all she was. She didn't stand out in the world filled with beauty, all she did was blend in, drifting in the breeze. It made her want to cry. Izzi longed for color. She longed to belong in this world. She wanted it more than anything. She sat in the grass for hours and braided flowers into her colorless hair made of wind. They wouldn't stay in long but she didn't mind, as long as she could have the colors for a moment. Eventually the sun began to set and she headed home.

"Why did you not heal yourself?" he asked, knowing full well that one of the perks for being a witch of the west was that water could heal almost any of her ailments. He was displeased to see that her translucent skin magnified the dark circles under her eyes.

Harry's eyes go wide for a split second. He starts laughing, "You've got to be kidding me." I stare at him, "Are you being serious?"

“I can’t really blame her, I am not the best talking to girls and I wasn’t…well…this,” Steve motioned to his whole body, “when we went on the date.”

Cole stuffed his hands further into his pockets when a gust of snow blew on the doorstep. Neither of them wanted to get into any heavy conversations on the way back to her home. He was almost certain Jordyn was going to bid him goodnight after he made sure she arrived home safely.

At 11:03pm Edgar left to go on his daily run. He jogged around the block twice, body drenched in sweat. His stick like, hunched over figure doing the best it could. Edgar always made sure he didn't stray too far from his house and precious possessions. Since no one else was out at this time of night, it was sublime for Edgar as he wasn't a people person.

Her back arched off the table, trying desperately to suck air into her lungs. Michael plunged into Dakota again and again, she felt the table impact with the wall, jarring them both and heard him bark out an order to do as she was told, growling the words while he drilled into her so furiously she could scarcely string a coherent thought together let alone understand what he wanted from her. Her hands flew behind her head, bracing against the wall, her muscles flexed and trembling.