Short Essay : A Short Story-A Story?

"Most people here either speak Hebrew or Kratonish. They are the two most common languages in the universe."

As the sunlight kisses my cheek, I'm astounded to discover I slept after the horrifying nightmare. After stretching out my limbs, I twist my head, expectant to find Alice sleeping peacefully beside me, only to find her side vacant. I sit up, and run a hand through my tousled, matted hair, and gather it together to tie back with the hairband I wear on my wrist. Maybe Alice can help me untangle it later.

Once upon a time there was a young boy named Dylan Jones who was 11 years old. He lived a miserable life, he didn’t find joy in anything, and both his parents had passed away. At the crack of dawn on a rainy, Friday morning, Dylan rode on his bycicle far, far away. He wanted to break away from the town he once called home. After his mother’s passing, he was forced to live with his stepdad who was the cruelest man of them all. He was an old, grumpy man who would mentally abuse him when he made a simple mistake. So Dylan planned an escape that left no trace of him and the second he left he was gone with the wind. As he was riding his bike to an unknown destination, he was feeling unsure about this plan of his. His feet became heavy so he stopped and had a snack that he packed for himself. Dylan would soon find himself in an unimaginable situation, regretting his escape from home.

It was going to be the perfect Saturday. Candy, soda, clash Royale, and YouTube. But we ended up with a story to tell. We were almost kidnapped. This story almost sounds fake, but it’s 100% true. Me and my friends were going to town to get some candy and soda and have a good time. We walked from our houses and rode our bikes to 1234 Street St. We went to the shops and got the free Wi-Fi to play our games and eat our candy. If only we knew what would happen next, we would have never went.

“Penny would you please go fetch me some fire wood?” Mom shouts. I roll off my bed and make my way downstairs. I walk into the kitchen and I see mom staring out the window. Shrugging it off and walk outside into the backyard. The stack of logs sit perfectly, still fresh from when dad cut them. I grab three and turn around, admiring our small pale blue house. I sigh and walk to the back door, but stop to the sound of voices. I immediately recognize moms, soon followed by dads. I set down the logs as soon as I hear his voice. I recognize the voice, it’s the man. I resist the urge to bust down the door and tackle him, but I know he has guns. I risk everything and I peek through the window. My guess is right, I see a tall figure with slicked back hair the color of his soul. Black. Everything on him is black, his hair, his outfit, his gun, even his eyes seem black.

Liam held Louis tightly. The boy's skin was freezing. He walked carefully with him up the steps and towards his bathroom. The omega clung to Liam like a sloth, digging his overgrown nails into Liam's shoulders. Liam pried the omega off him and sat him down on top of the toilet seat. The boy let out a small whine and brought his legs up to his chest. He stared back at him blankly as if he was stuck in a daze.

I was thirteen when the news came. It started off with what I thought would be one of my mother’s usual lectures about how I wasn’t doing well in school or how I should do the dishes instead of laying on my ass all day.

It had been little over a week since they arrived at what remained of the ark. Though Raven couldn’t really be sure how long they had been in the sky, she was keeping track of the days, not the way she should have been. She was preoccupied working on what need to be fixed. There was no way in hell she was going to let this fail, not after everything they had been through, not after Clarke sacrificed herself to make sure they got here. Taking in a deep breath she glanced out the window catching site of the earth a frown formed on her parted lips. She still couldn’t believe what happened, it didn’t seem like that long ago she crash landed on the earth, it was so green now it was in flames. With a shake of the head she turned her gaze from the plant, there was no time for sitting around doing nothing. She had to much to do to day to just sit around and do nothing. She wished she had more hours to get everything done, or at least more people to help out with what need to be done.

“Claire Paris?” the middle age lady said. “Oh! That’s you.” my mom said. My parents and I stood up, I looked at her. She was smiling at me, I thought she was too optimistic, like she had such a perfect life without even saying anything. We followed the lady to her office, she opened her door and lead us to the tan colored couch for us to sit on. “My name Laurie Maxwell, and how are you guys?” Right then, I saw a tear coming out of my dad’s eye, more and more came out onto his cheeks, nose, lips. “We’re not great, I can tell you that.” My dad chuckled. “Well that’s why you’re here, for my help.” Laurie said. “So tell me what happened.” she added. My mom started saying “Claire got diagnosed and she had to give up swim, competitive swim.” “Oh, I’m sorry” Laurie sounded more depressed. “How long have you swam competitively.” I looked at her, I could sense my parents looking at me, thinking I’d answer her. Instead my mom answered, “7 years.” “Well that’s a long time.” Laurie replied. My mom wanted me to talk to Laurie privately, so my parents decided to exit the room. I didn’t want them to leave, I didn’t want to tell some random lady about my problem and how I felt about. But right then, they were gone.

Paul heard the screams before he even woke up. When he finally opened his eyes it took him a few moments to register where the screams were coming from. He looked over at the other side of the bed and panicked slightly, before he remembered that Sally was away at a writer’s seminar and would be getting home late.

The teachers tell us all the news. We’re not allowed to leave were under lockdown and forced to stay here at the school by the police. Great, I am stuck volcano vista for another 6 hours. My friends come yelling at me.

Basilton Arlen Wolff-Haynes (Baz) woke up to the noise of his roommate snoring. Groggily, he looked at his watch and groaned inwardly. The blinking digital letters read: 4:37. Way too early, he thought. There is no way I’m going to be able to go back to sleep, with Snow trying to impersonate a pig over there. Might as well get up now. Quietly, he crept out of bed, leaving the sheets practically undisturbed, and changed into his school uniform. Baz looked out the window before pulling on his blazer, too. Still tiptoeing, he sneaked out of the room, gently closing the door quietly behind him. There he was met with a moment of hesitation. Will the door still be unlocked? Do I know what I’m doing? Finally, he pushed all the doubts out of his head. It’s been too long since I’ve been up there. It would be nice to pay the place a visit.

"Wake up Matthew.." A voice said. Matthew opened his eyes and was greeted by his father sitting on his bed and with a cake in his hands. "Happy birthday son." His father said. A smile grew on Matthew's face as he slicked back his silver blonde hair. "Thank you, father." Matthew said.

After several hours sleep and a long hot shower, Booker felt ready to face the rest of the day. Walking into the chapel’s main hub, he immediately noticed the subdued atmosphere. Tom’s rape had affected everyone, even the staunchest of his bullies. It was a reminder of the fragility of the human existence thereby highlighting the flaw behind the, it’ll never happen to me mentality. It had happened, and in all probability, it would happen again to someone in the next second...minute...hour. Like it or not, there were no guarantees, just vague, barely acknowledged hopes it wouldn’t happen to a friend, loved one, or God forbid, yourself.

My eyes sting and are red from all the crying. I look like I’ve been beat up, and my face appears double the size because of my puffy eyes. This morning, I visited my wife’s grave after a week of mourning with my son. While I was there, I saw a small bag of bread perched on top of her grave stone. There is something peculiar about the bread, and it brings me back to my childhood memories...