Quivering Creative Writing

We get back into the car. I breathe deeply. Through puffs of smoke, Thomas says, “That guy sounds like a dick.” We merge onto a different highway. The sun is rising. I think only of the Pacific Ocean, of the light on the water, of the sound of waves crashing over my feet. I remember kayaking on the ocean with my father and his friend. I was young, nine or ten. On top of the waves, my father told me that we were going to roll the kayak. He said that while we were under the water, I couldn’t let go of him. He said that I had to make him proud, that I would be in trouble if I embarrassed him in front of his friend. He said that my sister was too afraid to roll the kayak, but I was different, I was brave. Once we got under the water, dad kept flailing around. He tried to push me off of him, but my legs were locked around his chest. He was testing me, but I wouldn’t let go. My lungs burned. I told myself that I just needed to hang on ten more seconds, ten more seconds. I thought I could hear my dad’s voice under the waves. Someone was under the waves with us. Arms pulled me away from dad, but I fought them. The arms were too strong, they pulled me into the air and held me above the waves. I thought that dad would be furious that I had let go, but once he rolled the kayak back up, dad looked afraid. His friend asked him what had happened. Dad said he wasn’t strong enough to roll us back up, that he couldn’t breathe, that he

By Saturday afternoon, the eighty-seven residents of the rural southern town of Wrongberight have suffered through four days of intense intermittent rainstorms. And to add to their misery another storm approaches the town from the northeast. Now, Clemmy Sue Jarvis since birth has lived here and has a simple philosophy concerning weather. As long as the almighty man upstairs allows her to draw a breath, she will enjoy life, regardless of the weather. At four o’clock, she lifts her petite frame into her rusty Ford pickup, and gradually eases out of her driveway. The soaring Pines that surround her home sway to the rhythm of the gusting wind as she turns south onto Flat Bottom Road and follows it along the edge the Dismal Swamp towards the isolated

When i eventually open my eyes i can finally see my surroundings and the first thing i notice is the clear blue water crashing with the golden beach , the clean sky and the smell of fresh air . Scanning the area around me , i realise that Alice and i aren't the only survivors , there's : Arthur , Damien and Claudet . There all unconscious so Alice makes it her duty to try and wake them . During these few minutes i decide to process our situation , where we are , what the hell happened and what we're going to do now . Looking behind me i’m hit with a rich , lush forest looking to be full of life and heaven like . Peacefully glaring at the woodland i feel like my problems float away and that i'm as free as a feather able to float into the clouds and never return, leaving behind the inferno of a past that i have and creating a new life for myself .

You awake with a breeze twirling with the fragments of hair left on your scalp; a dance known only to friends of the oncoming light. You open your eyes only to see the endless ocean in the sky. You do not see your family, nor your friends. You demand your legs and arms to function, they do not. You beg them to work the one time you need them to, and in defiance to the groan of your bones, you stand. You begin to wonder if this is a dream, a nightmare. It’s not real. I will see them when I wake up. They are fine. It’s not real. The earth rises and in its presence is the rubble of your home, your brother’s home, and your neighbor’s home, scattered and utterly destroyed. With a horrible realization, you start screaming for the arms of your children and wife to wrap around you once again. You can’t hear yourself scream. You can’t hear anything except the deafening silence. You drop to our knees while your eyes are drowned in a river of sorrow. Then, you feel the small hands of your children grasp yours with surprising fierceness. Though your wife is nowhere to be seen in the mist of dust, you have never been so relieved to bask in the mist of ruins and death.

My throat started closing in on itself and I started panting, hyperventilating as salt water streaked my face. I pulled my clenched fist up to my eyes, as if they could shield me from the rage and sadness. I didn't know whether to be mad or to give up hope all together. I was silently screaming, suffocating with each breath. I ran my fingers through my curls, time and time again, in an attempt to calm the emotions filling my skulI. I scrubbed my nose as I tried to sort through the plethora of thoughts echoing in my

I lolled around still thinking about the decision I had made. The vicissitudes were just piling up, on after another. The only things I heard were buildings crumble, guns being fired, and bombs dropping. I missed the sound of my car starting, I missed the sound of the music playing, but most of all, I missed the sound of my children laughing and playing. The kind of chastisement I was living through was just unbearable and I was ready to leave. No one was stabbing me, no one was shooting me, just thinking about what I have lost is the most painful thing. I heard gunshots getting closer. I needed to leave.

“Wake up,” that’s what I heard after passing out from all the blows to the face. My vision is blurred I’m trying to stay awake but I lost consciousness; all of a sudden I felt a splash of coldness on my face, and I woke up gasping for air. The man with the deep ominous voice said, “Wakey wakey little man” I replied, “where the h*ll is Mako!” when I was fully aware of where I was, that’s when I started to panic.

He was worn out, his hand hurt badly, and now he had to fight for his life with one of those enormous warriors.

I layed my body on the soft green grass with a light sigh, as I was lying on the grass I looked up to the glistening stars in the sky with tears forming in my eyes. I was thinking about my parents and the things we used to do before they were murdered by a group who call themselves Silence. They are a group known by anyone and anything, and what they do to people is just unbearable.

For a while, I floated somewhere in the dark, vast crevasse that separates life and death, I thought for sure that I was dead, damned to roast in the eternal fires of Purgatory forever and ever, but as the hours passed, I realized that I was alive, just barely from the feeling of it. And, although every inch of my body hurts from the strapping he gave me, I know that when I’m able to get up and walk, I’m going to Nanny Rues and find out what happened to Jubal. My father will just have to keep beating me until either he kills me or I make it to her house and find out what I need to know.

I can't move, every ounce of breath is crucial. I feel it trying to trap me in a wooden coffin-like box. I scream "Mom!" as loud as I can, nothing. Not a yell or a screech, just one single whisper.

As I tromped through the thick woods, I got the same warmth radiating from the forest. The sunlight danced, even through the still pine needles above me. I listened, hoping to hear a crunch of a twig, or rolling of pebbles beneath Adam’s feet. Nothing. I stopped and waited, listening. Still listening, again nothing. “Adam! Adam where are you!?!” I called into the forest. My voice echoed of of the thick trunks of the trees. The feeling of panic spread throughout me. I quickened my pace, anxious to find Adam. After walking for a few minutes, I realized I had wandered farther than I ever had before. I spun around, trying to remember what direction I had come from. After debating with myself, I decided to head back downhill. Slowly going along, trying to decided if I was going the right direction, I heard a low sobbing. My first thoughts jumping to Adam, I screamed his name. With no response, I quickened my pace. I spun around and there it

The eerie wood, where we entered, was a bit scary to me. It was an umber-brown, aged forest covered by a damp, cheerless atmosphere. In fact, it was a foggy night. The air was cold and with every breath I drew a misty, chilly exhale followed. The source of light could be seen for miles of trail were several small led lights, which were lying along trailside. Those were helping people didn’t get off the trail and went too deep into the forest. Even though I could feel the unevenness of the old mining trail beneath me, it was smooth in contrast to the crunching of the odd dead leaf that I stepped on. As I looked around I noticed, although it was windless day, trees in the forest still seemed to be waving and enticing us into the darkness. The

Back in my country I lived in the village. As my brothers, my sister and I grew older; we loved to go to the forest with our parents. We were walking, talking and enjoying the weather, but this day we decided to take a different path, than we usually did. Everything seemed normal, but before I knew it, the path had disappeared and I could not see anyone in my family or the path we had come from. It was so unexpected. It gave me a feeling of fear, and at the same time feeling of excitement that can’t be described. Everything in the forest seemed different. The

When we landed all i saw was pitch black. I don't know how long it was when i opened my eyes. I looked around me jackson was on the floor unconscious. I looked for my mom and found her she was in a on the seat head down.