I listened to the weapon’s high pitched tone lessen as it discharged behind me. It didn’t take long before I heard the familiar beep notifying me that the weapon was harmless once again. From what was standing before me in my doorway (at that particular moment), I was happy one part of my body could still function. although, breathing was necessary, what was between my ears was what had more importance for now. What was standing in front of me had instantly froze my feet in place, had widened my eyes as far as they could go, and stopped my heart. I didn’t know what to say, let alone what to do. “Mrs. Yates, is Dennis home?” “Staci,” I said, and tried my best not to laugh at the girl, “what do you want? Oh, let me answer that for you. You want to finally tell Dennis that you like him and the two of you should start courting. Excuse me. You want the two of you to start dating. Staci, we both know that Dennis only sees you as a friend.” “Mrs. Yates, you don’t have to tell me that I’m not good enough for Dennis. I know…” “You know absolutely nothing,” I snapped at the girl the moment I saw tears forming in her eyes. “My son is an idiot not to see that the two of you are perfect for one another. Now is not a good time for you to confess your feeling to Dennis. You know as well as anyone that he likes Alycia …show more content…
Oh, yes. The four girls had a choice to marry four of the school’s dweebs, or what you call nerds today. Their parents didn’t like the match and the boys’ parents even less, but things worked out in the end. The girls didn’t follow their leader to prison, and the boys married girls who would make pretty grandchildren for their parents. Oh, did I forget each girl were lucky to pass home makers class or what you call home economics or they would have never graduated. I know that got the best out of that bargain. I knew they were either going to be some mobster girlfriend the keep from their wives or a street
I awoke to a cacophony of screams, both of excitement and of pain. I jolted up quickly, unable to control my own muscles or vocal chords, as if a spectre was holding me back with airy fingers of death.
On April 1, 2000, I was placed into a group home because of my behavior at the home. My dad and I didn’t get along. So he sent me to a placed called Bowman House. When I arrived there the first person I met was a lady name Alexander, she begin showing me around the units. Alexander was called the granny of the units. It was two units for the boys and girls. She took me to the boys unit first to look at the units. After I looked at the boys unit she took me to the girls unit. Where I would be staying. I had the chance to bond with Alexander, it wasn’t something I was trying to do it just happen. I had to stay with Alexander until the staff came back from picking the other peers up from school. An hour pass and the peers came back I had to go
But it was a start… or so he thought. The next three months went by without a word or attack until Thanksgiving eve. Terry was helping his mother peel potatoes while his father was reading the newspaper. All of a sudden, Terry’s father had a flashback. He dropped down to the floor faster than a fainting goat. He acted like a fish out of water; squirming on the cold kitchen floor. Terry’s mother continued peeling the potatoes, assuming it was just another average attack. It was not. As Terry looked over to his father, he remembered what happened at the hardware store; nervous laughing, his father crying, all the chaos at once. Terry realized that this attack was much more severe. He dashed to the landline, dialing 9-1-1 as his mother rushed
When Ari and Amelia arrived at the Lindeman house, she got a chance to meet her father and boyfriend. Eagan's mom didn't want to see her. When Scott took Amelia to see Eagan's room, she had a chemical reaction to her meds. She was rushed to the hospital.
“I found a man’s body in the bushes down by the riverbank. When I checked him, I recognized the man, Steven Walker, and he had this in him,” Ernest said and handed the card to Michael. “I took this out of his pocket.”
and it closed softly behind me, the blades snick-ing back into their places and the alarm re-engaging behind my back. I looked around, keeping perfectly still with my body pressed into the shadows against the door, my eyes narrowed and my breath coming and going silently through my mouth. The room was bare except for a white block about the size of a
My whole being tensed and I squeezed my hand around the revolver. The trigger gave; I felt the smooth underside of the butt; and there, in that noise, sharp and deafening at the same time, is where it
It was the Saturday before the last week of first grade and my family and I were attending a kickstart into summer barbecue at Scott Shaw’s house. Accompanied by my mother, father, brother, and my father’s 20 plus mountain biking, “crunchy granola” friends and spouses, we all arrived with summer’s approaching warmth on our faces. Everyone shoveling food into their mouths, playing ping pong, pool and swimming, everything was going smoothly.
The charters in this story act like real girls because some girls would do anything to go out with the popular boy. There is really
Someone broke into my car and about $400 worth of cash and items were stolen.
It was saturday, October 2016. Me and my friend J.T pulled up to Michael Wood’s house. His mom Alexis was throwing a party. Because Mr.wood just got a promotion at work. And it was their last week here before they moved to Detroit. Over 1,200 miles away from where I live in Miami Florida. J.T and I hang out for most of the party. Until I saw Michael. I wanted to congratulate him and his dad. But it would be too sad. Hey Michael what's up, oh how's it going bro. Nothing much I replied. I really wanted to ask him about his dad's promotion so I
My weapon, wielded force while my arms are frail, my body moving as my mind was frozen. Imagery only to be seeing by the books, but never to be experienced; moments that can't be touched. For I could not find the meaning, my mind was left cold, men running towards their end. “Necessary,” the words, the phrase for the slitting of a man's throat, the butt of my gun hitting a faceless image.
The opaque black metal of the Colt 45 rested on the bridge of his nose, waiting, as chestnut irises shined back at me, and I stared blankly ahead. I squeezed two fingers; neither long enough to separately apply enough pressure. My eyes sealed shut, grip clinched, and incessant ringing shot through my ears, as sanguine tears drizzled down my face, but I had not been harmed.
"I was in the house," Kris Dunn recalled. "There were two big dudes banging on the big, glass door and telling me to come to the door. I'm looking at them, I'm like, 'OK, I'm going to lock it up even more.' My brother comes out and says: 'What are you doing? That's our father.' Emotions just came out of me so much. I never met my father before." It was not until the age of nine that future all star Providence College point guard met his own father. Growing up, Kris was living in Alexandria Virginia with his mother Pia, and his child-hood father figure and older brother John. Life was challenging for Kris at first with many bumps in the road. From not knowing where his next meal would be coming from to two-time Big East Player of the Year and 5th overall draft pick the light would ensure
Watching me from afar. Who could be there? Behind me? The suspense was quickly building up and so was my fear. The fear to turn around and face whatever it is behind me. I only continued to get more and more filled with freight and the bad possibilities. I just couldn’t imagine the terror that awaited me once I turned around. My curiosity begged me to turn around and see what it was. If I’m going to die, I might as well see the killer. I built up the courage to turn around. I slowly turned around, and my heart completely stopped. The only thing I seen before getting impaled was a mask. After that, everything went black. I can’t believe my life is already coming to an end. “Why now? Why here? Why me? I can’t just die now. I haven’t lived very long at all.” I grabbed the weapon that impaled me and clenched my grip as hard as I could and jabbed as hard and fast as I could at the killer. I tried my best to defend myself and end this killers terror. I felt like the end was near. The killer was dead or was dying; they weren’t gonna bother me anymore, that’s all I knew. They were motionless on the floor. I quickly called 911 and tried my best to save myself. After I made the call everything went