Rough Draft Short Story

You feel an intense, out-of-the-skin awareness of your living self—your truest self, the human being you want to be and then become by the force of wanting it. In the midst of evil you want to be a good man. You want decency. You want justice and courtesy and human concord, things you never knew you wanted. There is a kind of largeness to it, a kind of godliness. Though it’s odd, you’re never more alive than when you’re almost dead. You recognize what’s valuable. Freshly, as if for the first time, you love what’s best in yourself and in the world, all that might be lost. At the hour of dusk you sit at your foxhole and look out on a wide river turning pinkish red, and at the mountains beyond, and although in the morning you must cross the river and go into the mountains and do terrible things and maybe die, even so, you find yourself studying the fine colors on the river, you feel wonder and awe at the setting of the sun, and you are filled with a hard, aching love for how the world could be and always should be, but now is

I was sprawled out on my old bed with a quilt partially wrapped around me. It was cold in the bedroom. I had taken mom’s diary out of my suitcase. Tears rolled down my cheeks, as I laid there flipping through the pages.

I wasn't planning on coming back quite so soon, and who knows, I may not truly be back because I am, in fact, still pursuing other avenues of my life, avenues that take up a considerable amount of my time, especially during the holiday season, and then Paris...

My mind was going one thousand miles per hour, those words haunting my head. Hot tears flowed down my face as the words sunk in. I slumped in my seat feeling exhausted and too cold for this warm house. My father’s arms reached for me, trying to comfort me. He wouldn’t understand the mental loss that was turning into physical pain. My chest heaved for air, trying to get this drowning feeling out of these thoughts that envelope me bringing a soft cloak of anxiety. “Not again, please.”

I sit here at my career center feeling the tension of having to pull more weight than the guy next to me and all I have thoughts of is its time to cash in my flex days and get away. If I have to hear one more conversation about real tree apparel I will surely go insane. I needed a fix for this never- ending case of the Mondays, I quickly turn my attention to the brigade of travel sites all designed to allure me with last- minute deals, cheap getaways. I normally resist the temptation to engage in a spur of the moment decision, but I?m on edge today and on the other hand it?s time to let the rest of the office pull their own weight and a little of my workload for once. If there is such a thing as poetic justice in life, this is clearly one of those times.

I try to remember what it was like before i spoke. Like sandpaper against my throught, a knife carving false hope onto my ribs. Bile and steal pressed up against my lungs. There was a violence held in every breath.

¨Hopefully I get a midget horse¨ I thought as we pulled into the ranch. As I opened the car door, I heard the thunderous THUMP THUMP of horses hooves. ¨Oh God¨ I thought as my stomach turned into a knotted ball. Soon we were greeted by one of the ranch hands and were taken to a dinky shed to get suited up and sign waivers. Then came saddling time. We were taken to the horse pen where we were greeted by the stench of horse manure. I spied out a smaller horse around five to six feet tall and hoped to get that one as my horse. Shure enough my grandma got that horse as she is the shortest. I spied out yet another horse on the shorter side and hoped to get that one. My turn to get saddled came next and sure enough, with my luck, I get the second

My stomach twisted and scrunched up into knots after gazing up at the structure. The dreaded day had finally come: the day that I would conquer the high ropes course at summer camp. As a fourteen-year old girl who was frightened by heights of any kind, strapping on a harness and climbing up a bunch of shaky poles and shivering wires was definitely the last thing I wanted to do. Nonetheless, peer pressure got the best of me, so in order to satisfy my friends and to avoid being teased, I made the decision that I would climb up the ropes course no matter how much the voice in my head screamed at me to stop.

Can you see the handsome young man sitting by my side, driving through the forest, behind the wheel of his decaying truck?

One of my Best friends Cheyenne turned 17 over spring break. I couldn’t make it to her birthday party so to make it up to her she slept over for two days and I surprised her with a trip to knots berry farm. She was ecstatic! Her excitement was contagious and as soon as we stepped through the gates of knots berry farm we got on any ride with a 15-40 minute wait no matter how many loops, twists, or turns it had. We craved the thrill. Although there was one ride that intimidated us both… it was the Supreme scream.

I can't explain how much my soul hurts and the anger I feel seeing or knowing things that many don't. I hate people who believe they have so much power they think they are untouchable. No one is untouchable and i'll never accept the "end justifies the means" because if you hurt people or animals along the way then no matter what the goal was, it's never worthy if we have

I sat down on the rug, and dropped my notebook on the floor. It was filled with all of my most precious memories. Sometimes I wondered where I would be without it. My personal emotions were in there, and I swear if anyone looks in it, I’ll curse my head of, and punch them in the nose.

Even though I was very weak, I could feel warmth through my arms that gave me strength. My grip was not painful but yet their eyes grew wide as their necks stiffened. I was replaying all of the moments that they had wanted to forget. Death, violence, childish innocence. All with my bare fingers. “Sylwia, leave.” I said softly. All of my energy is destroying itself in this moment as I continue to press my fingers. I can barely speak already. I tried to make her understand the severity of the situation. Her thoughts ran through my mind, all of them panicked. She ran to grab some of her things. Before both of our hearts could burst, she whispered, “I will see you in the next life, Leon.” How could she know? I tried opening my mouth to speak, but suddenly the muscles in my jaw clenched shut. All of the lights flickered in the apartment. I could not utter a single world as my head knocked back to reveal a new world of

The necklace suddenly felt like it had stabbed her. She looked around, the pain making her wince. To her left, she saw him. The man who looked like Crash from earlier, but this time with an enormous figure beside him. Burn. The burning from the cat’s eye combined with what she was seeing made her cry. What are they doing here? Where are they going? Are they ok? As much as she wanted to get the answers to her questions, the truth overpowered. Sora knew that she couldn’t go to them. She knew they were busy and she was a burden. After all that is why they left her. They were so close, but they didn’t tell me. Even if she wanted to she felt frozen in place and it was so sudden. It almost seemed like they were only there for a single second in time. Before Sora could blink properly, once again they disappeared. Just like that day 3 years ago when they left, the tears flowed down her

Tears filled my eyes as I wondered, Why is this happening to my family? What will happen to my family, and when will this be over? I sat at the table, unable to speak a single word. The emotion had overcome me like the waves of the ocean now breaking on the shore.