Samantha Rose: A Short Story

Her child had been shot dead as she ran for her life. Luckily for her, the bullet didn’t go through the baby’s body. When she stopped where we stood, she sat on the ground and removed her child. It was a girl, and her eyes were still open, with an interrupted innocent smile on her

Today is the day. Today is finally the day that I am to be released from the psychiatric hospital since that day when I passed out. I know last time you heard from me, I was broken and unhappy and had hate for the world, but i'm in the best state i could ever be, I really am I tell you. Oh how excited I am to see old Phoebe. I haven’t seen her since i’ve been admitted into this wing of the hospital. Oh I wonder how much she has grown< She was so intelligent and pure, nothing could ever compromise her. So I hope nothing hasn’t. I was retrieving most of my belongings before I left, when I happened to run into old Ms. Patty. This was my nurse and oh, how lovely she is. “Oh hello Holden, leaving so soon ?” she said so to me with great compassion. Naturally I said, “Why yes sadly, I must go on with myself and enjoy the world, perhaps find myself a woman”, I said this suave as hell, I tell you.

As my fifteen-year-old roommate falls to pieces, panic rises in my chest like a leaping flame. She lets out muffled screams and chilling sobs as she buries her face against the pillow. I kneel beside her and whisper reassurances. “You’ll be okay.” “No one will hurt you.” I pray she hears me but I know she doesn’t. She is trapped somewhere else - somewhere she revisits every day, like a bad song stuck in her head for life.

As I helplessly watch my fifteen year old roommate fall to pieces in front of me, I feel everything around me slow to a crawl. Blood pounds my ear drums, I feel the color drain from my cheeks, and my feet take me forward as if they have a mind of their own. I fall to my knees and suddenly everything speeds up again – the pounding in my ear drums intensifies, my hands are trembling but I manage to grasp the side of the bed in an attempt to bring myself close to her. Her face is buried into her sheet. Muffled screaming escapes her as I whisper gentle reassurances in her ear, hoping with everything I have that she can hear me. I know she doesn’t. Even if she does, she can’t make sense of it right now. She’s stuck somewhere else, somewhere she revisits every day of her life and every time she closes her eyes to sleep.

I hold the paper in my hands. It’s crumpling under my grip, but in it I get to live in the footsteps of others. My old dress is wrinkled and torn much like the paper, but I can’t spare the money on a new one. As much as I try to focus on the crinkled piece of paper with scrawly handwriting, I can’t. I just can’t. Tears run down my face and I wipe them away. It has been awhile since I have cried, so long in fact that I was afraid that there was something wrong with me. I push myself up from the old oak I sit at the base of. There’s no use in dwelling in what I can’t change. I fold the paper back in my dress pocket and walk into the field. I used to think there was beauty in the way that the grass grows in the street; standing low next to the

Her enthusiasm lasted till lunchtime, fading only when no one came forward to talk to her, to tell her how beautiful she looked that day, to apologize, perhaps, for the late-night phone call. She is so desperate to know who it was. For her this is one in a billion of amazing things that happen to her. Today would be no different at all, she realized. It was just as if nothing had ever happened. What if it never happens again? Thinking to herself she thought that maybe she was sick and this was all just a dream. No one could ever like someone like her, I mean she wasn’t the prettiest and she didn’t have the “perfect

Claire’s was the first face I saw. Covered in tears, she clutched her mouth with her trembling hand. Next I directed my gaze towards my father, his arms firmly wrapped around my distraught mother. He held her as if he was afraid he would lose her next. The panic on their faces sent my head even further into a spiral. My vision blurred as I fell down a rabbit hole of fear and emotion. Disoriented, I stumbled over my

One night, thoroughly past her bedtime, Georgiana crept stealthily downstairs to sneak a bite of pie, even though her mother would never approve. She immediately realized a heavy drape of desolation. The only noise was her heart beating to the rapid rhythm of the twitching fan. Georgiana thought that no one would be awake at one in the morning. She slipped through the doorway into the kitchen. For an instant, her heart stopped. A dreadful sight stood in her way. An innocent and isolated individual lay with his hand grasping for life, but it was already over. Taking a step back, she

She looked at the child, safely in her arms, breathing steadily. She looked at the man, then turned her head at the semi. The semi woman had no chance. She cared for the child, even when it ended her own life. She cradled the child in her arms, quietly praying that he didn’t what had become of his mother. She didn’t know that the child was hanging onto her arm, sobbing into her sleeve. The warm, wet tears on her shirt had brought something out of her. She broke down in the middle of the road. She cried into the bright blue coat of the little boy. He was tightly holding his Teddy bear when she had grabbed him, but when she looked down, he was no longer in possession of such an innocent creature. He dropped it when she had set him on the ground. She stood up, looked at the burning car and semi, and realized that she had saved a person, but she was mostly proud at the fact that she had saved a child, no older than eight years. The police took her, the man, and the child into custody. She walked to the ambulance with the help of an officer. The girl had been silent from the moment that she had put her earbuds in. She hadn’t spoken a single word. Not a single

So when this little person came and pointed at me, I was taken aback. I mean, thinking about it, of course, it, makes sense she would choose me, the shiniest gem in the entire store. Children like shiny objects from what I hear, but I had been so down I forgot I even had a sparkle to me. It's been years since that child picked me. I’ve seen her face many times in the mirror since then. It surprises me still how she removes every single piece every night before bed. Yet, I remain snuggled between her breasts, since the day I was purchased I’ve only left her neck for minor repairs.

As she rubbed her eyes in exhaustion she remembered the adventures of the day before. When she got home she passed out from the excitement and strain on her heart. She reached down to check her leg and sighed with relief to find a replacement was already attached. She looked over at her nightstand and noticed her spare glass waiting for her to put them on. As she got out of bed all she could think about was how rude she was to Sam. She walked into the kitchen to see her mother preparing breakfast. She looked around and did not see Sam. She didn’t know why she expected to see her but she was upset that he was not here. Her mom turned a saw her disappointment and said “He seem in quite a rush to leave he left his job to help you.” She was startled by her answer and rushed out the door ignoring the cries from her mother. She hurried Sam’s farm almost throwing up because of the strain on her heart. When she reached the farm she found an old man working the fields. She rushed over and asked, “Where is Sam?” The old man replied, “I fired him because...” She didn’t let him finish She rushed to the road the taste of blood in her mouth from running. She saw a man walking on the road looking forlorn. She called out, “Sam!” The man stopped and turned it was Sam he answered her, “Joy?” She ran into his arms and started to cry. Sam confused hugged her back. She thought to herself about how a horrible incident led to her

I had a never ending list of patients to see, all of which also had a never ending list of questions to ask. Going through my routine, I worked my way down the list of patients. Then I found a familiar looking name, Sarah T. LiCari. Walking into the room I did my usual greeting. I noticed that she looked a bit different, but I could not quite put my finger on it. Had she lost weight? Did she do something to her hair? Was it just the new winter jacket? Regaining my focusI began to look over the lab results that were sent back from a hospital in Pittsburgh. They did not look good. There was no reason to try and sugar coat the situation, so I told Sarah outright what the results concluded. I could see the slight drop in her features. Knowing there was not a cure for the disease I told her about a new drug trial that was going on that she could be a subject in. This appeared to catch her interest a little, but I could see that her eyes drifted to focus on the model that sat on the windowsill behind me depicting a liver with cirrhosis. I felt some pity for the girl. She was quite young to have developed liver cirrhosis. I could tell she had zoned out by now, so I wrote down everything I was telling her to look at when sh got home. Sarah and her mother then left. It was just another day at the

                They stop and stare, take one look into her eyes and realize they hold their own story. She's the type of girl people would look at and think, "Wow, she's beautiful. I wish I was her." But, little did they know that this beauty was on the outside, but pain was killing her on the inside. She faked a smile, day by day, but she often wondered if people ever noticed her silent cries for help. Along the way, she realized she forgot how it felt to be happy.

Elise Davenport was not having a good night. Just the day before she put her whole career on the line thanks to a few glasses of champagne. Loose lips can sink ships, and they can obliterate your social status. So here she was, stumbling through Fairhaven Park in pitch blackness, looking for the cabin she rented. She'd just hung up the phone with her agent when she heard the rumbling growl come from beside her. Not a good night at all...

I stood up looking at them both, then looking to my right to see the dead body.