My Life Is Stolen Or If It?

It was on one of the few sunny days Oregon allotted us during it’s wet and dreary springs, and my skinny fourteen year-old body was brimming with enthusiasm. During the entirety of the car ride up to the high school, I squirmed impatiently in my seat, cracking my knuckles, taking long, drawn out breaths, checking and re-checking that I had enough equipment for the hour I was to endure, and focusing my mind on the task at hand. My mom had barely shifted the car into park when I threw open the door and raced inside the building, giving a brief wave goodbye

Girls perch on the tables like exotic birds gossiping and giggling, a football fly’s above their heads between two jocks in varsity jackets parading their toned muscles. Groups of high schoolers sit around the room laughing. Weekend has arrived and the hallways of the school were filled with tons of kids ready to go home. Every ear filled with the sound of multiple conversations going off at once, lockers opening and closing, music blasting without. I had managed to push past the constant stream of children and to the school field. The grass was damp and covered in a thin layer of frost. As I walked my footprints were embedded, leaving a piece of me in the cold ground. I saw my friends faraway chattering and fooling around. I was stuck in the wrong crowd; they are nothing like me but somehow I am still friends with them. I slowly made my way up to my “so called friends”.

Saturday afternoon , Sam and Colleen arrive at the hospital to visit Erika. Henry leaves to run some errands and give them alone time together . Erika's skin looks pale from her accident , her eyes and mouth wide open , she takes a deep breath every two minutes. Her mom Mrs. White sits in the chair next to her holding on to her hand as she cries. “ Is she gonna be OK?” “ I don't know , the doctors say she's in a state of shock , something scared her to where she is like this .” Sam goes up to Erika holding her hand . “ Erika its me Sam , we miss you , I miss you.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek and whispers in her ear. “ I'll get Scratch for this , even if it takes my last breath.”

I remember sitting at our dining room table, looking past the window. I wasn’t much older than eleven. It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and I was bored out of my mind. I sighed, wishing there was something exciting to do. My mother told me that I should go outside and play, but I had already played at our playground what seemed like a million times already. The playground was only ten yards away from our small 800 square foot apartment, in the heart of Omaha, Nebraska. This was a convenience to some kids, but to me it was aggravating. I sat there in that wooden dining chair thinking how this summer had been one of the most uneventful summers I had ever had. I daydreamed about the summers of when I was living in Upstate New York. Ever since

I dreaded coming home, it was the worst thing I could imagine and as i grew the feeling didn’t change. I would get out of bed quietly not wanting to wake up my mother, my bruises are still healing from yesterday’s beatings. I go to my closet and put on a black, long-sleeved shirt to cover up the scars, a pair of jeans to cover the hurt and a pair of hand-me-down sneakers. I quickly tip-toe past my mom’s room, only to see her lying there, sound asleep with an empty wine glass slowly slipping out of her hand. I grab my book bag and walk out the door and to the bus stop. I walked through the hallways, to each class and I hear the nasty comments and the rumors, secretly believing every word they say. I walked to lunch a sit alone as people pull

I’m wide awake when my alarm goes off at 5am. I pull on my sneakers and soon they’re slamming the pavement. But the thoughtlessness never sets it. My brain is stuck running around in circles. All I can think about is last night. Liam’s face right before he kissed me. The way he brushed my face. This isn’t happening. Then I realize: This can’t be happening. It’s not just the fact that Whitewater, Ohio isn’t exactly known for its liberal thinking. My dad will kill me. The pavement under my feet blurs and tips as I run faster. I run parallel to the chain link fence of the town park. Through it, I see a couple, an old man and woman, sitting on a bench, holding hands. I feel a sharp twinge in my heart.

The woman’s dirt stained sweatshirt is damp with my tears and snot. I sniff, hiccupping. My breathing comes and goes in ragged, panicked gasps. My lungs are tight and my eyes hot. I feel sick as images of Emerson’s bloody body and the spray of Leighton’s brains against the tree flash through my mind.

It had been a nice day, but the sky darkened now, and I felt great globs of rain fell against my coat, and dripped down past my shirt collar, sending icy little snail trails down my back. I looked out at the water as I stood, and I saw her. I saw her standing from the waves, and being lifted by the waves, and I saw her mouth fall open with a toothless grin, and her hands, with their long fingers and pointed nails, reached out to me. I tried to tell myself I was just seeing things. I was as delusional as Molly was. It set my mind at ease for just a few moments, but then I stepped from the sand of the beach to the half-rotten wood of the peer. But I hadn’t been walking, had I? The peer was a good six metres from the stairs, and yet I had ended up there within seconds of stepping into the beach. I had looked into her blank eyes, and I felt like I was now where she wanted me. The world seemed to shift around me. The rushing of the waves was replaced by silence so tangible I could feel it sliding in through my ears and my mouth, and circling around me like an animal stalking its prey. I turned, and I could see my wife on the beach, and I could see her smile. I tried to shout at her. I tried to tell her to leave, and to ask her why she was here, but the silence choked me. The wind picked up and it bit right through my clothes, and fog fell and rose from the

I won't bother you anymore, but don't expect me to be selfless if you ever need me." Was all Justin replied with, his tone of voice sharp and unpleasing. It made an uncomfortable feeling sink into my stomach as I watched him hurry away. With a huff, I darted out of the lobby, up the stairs and into my dorm. Vic sat at the small table working on what I could only assume was homework. It was still early, but I felt completely worn out and useless, so without a word to Vic, I slipped through the crack door to the bedroom, changing into some more comfortable closing before letting my body glide beyond the warm, silk sheets. I must've laid there for an eternity as I listened to Vic's scribbling on the other side of the thin wall. Suddenly the scribbling stopped and a knock on our door was

The sun was setting leaving the sky full of colours with the light cool breeze allowing the blossoms to hover around leaving shadows among the ground. The stream was flowing calmly as he looked at himself in the dark blue water. He had smudges of dirt around the edges of his face with his messy blond hair. He turned around as something hit him on his back. His parents and his brother were smiling in the distance and waiting for him with their arms out ready to embrace him. He stood there staring at them wide-eyed with his jaw slowly dropping without realization, as if a dream came true. He started running towards them but each step he took the more they seemed to dissolve into the air until there was nothing left.

“Honey, it’s no problem, just don’t waste it.” She says as she interrupts me. My mother sets down the plate, and I already have the syrup in my hand, ready to drown the pancakes and the bacon. I quickly eat my pancakes and the greasy, yet delicious bacon. My dad walks into the room, dressed in his suit ready to go to work. He never went to college, but now works for Nike and makes millions. Surprising what you can do without going to college. I grab my bag and my bright orange wallet, realizing it’s 8:30. I kiss my mom and dad goodbye, and give Will a quick wave. I pull the handle of my suitcase and walk out the door, where my best friend, Izzy, is

My feet dangled below me as I sat on the stepping stool that constituted as my dining room chair. I banged my little fists on the red plastic tablecloth while I impatiently waited for dinner. My mom was still on her way home from work so it had been my grandma who picked me up from pre-school and brought me home to help make dinner. I liked my school because it had a fence that imitated giant crayola crayons and a yellow brick road leading up to the door just like in the Wizard of Oz. The place was magical, but I didn’t mind leaving because I loved spending time with my mom and grandma. It was just the three of us. My mom and I had recently moved back in with my grandma, who I call Memere. I was lucky to have two women taking care of me because

A soft breeze rolled dead leaves across the yard. He hung out of the windowsill, feet bouncing off the siding with dull, rhythmic thuds mimicking a heartbeat. The air was otherwise silent, birds and bugs long gone or dead, chased away by the cold. This was okay. This didn’t cause his stomach to tie itself in knots, or his hands to shake so badly that he couldn’t hold onto a pen. But the second he moved his toe outside the doorway, it would all rush to him. Sand would fill his lungs and great ghostly hands would clutch him tight and trap him in a war between himself. It only got worse as the months flew by. Just last month he was able to go out and get a gallon of milk for the house, and a month before he went out for lunch with some old family friends. But he had freaked out in the car on the way home, and he had pretended to fall ill in order to excuse himself early, so maybe he hadn’t changed so much after all.

The water is still and calm. Most days the water is chaotic and bitter. Crashing into the rotting pier. Today I walk out on the pier alone, but a few weeks ago I would have been with my best friend. Practically my sister, but since the accident I’ve been more alone than ever. She was hit by a car. That day Sophia convinced me that we needed to go shopping. Normally I wouldn’t say yes, but today was a good day. My mom finally was going to let me go to Chicago without parent supervision. Sophia was going to take me. We were walking in the crosswalk on the road to get to the new store across the street. Sophia was ahead of me so I yell out

“BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.” I lay on my bed, eyes wide open before the alarm clock even rang. Today was the day. Already dressed in swim shorts from the night before, I nervously rushed to Neil’s house. After all of our friends gathered up, Neil’s mom drove us to a nearby park to “play football.” A sudden rush of shivers traveled through my body as soon as I saw Neil’s mom leave. I opened my water bottle and chugged to try to wash down the guilt in my mouth,