One morning, when I shook Sarah’s hand, she didn’t wake up. Her hand felt cold, so I pulled her yellow blanket up around her shoulders. I crawled back into my own bed and waited. Every few minutes I called, “Where’s Sarah?”, but she just kept on sleeping.
Although secure in her makeshift safe house, she was by no means sheltered from the insidious scratching. The scratching was joined with another sound, one not so alarming in tone. It was a baby’s sob, sounding so hurt and in need. All of these things pounded in the girl's mind. What if it was her baby doll? Her baby needed her. She couldn’t reject her little helpless baby.
In the cold , cold arctic there are 3 polar bears Samantha, Chris and Ted. Ted and Samantha fall in love and Ted is left alone, soon Samantha realizes she still loves Ted and wants to be with him instead of Chris ,they start walking along the ice and then all of a sudden Chris comes by and starts beating Ted she doesn't know what to do so she screams and screams but know one comes to help she's terrified so she tries to break the fight up but it doesn't work they push her into this big block of ice , she dies and they have nothing to do but feel sorry for what happened .
A trickle of fear had her lying motionless with her eyes closed, straining to hear the slightest noise. A deep sigh of regret and the pressure of a body by her side made her acutely aware that she wasn’t alone.
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
“Ada,” his voice was surprisingly steady, given how unstable he was feeling. He could feel her fear. Her despair. “Please, don’t leave me alone. You promised, remember?”
I stood still screaming, panicking in the dimly lit room while the baby of whom I was unconditionally devoted to vibrated unsteadily. Then a light hand gently squeezed the top of my shoulder hand did not have a voice, however it explained my pain would soon be relieved. Her shaking had ceased and the once distressed infant looked peaceful as her clear inexperienced blue eyes shut tightly. Hearing sharp murmurs from behind, I swiveled 180 degrees and murmurs slowly disintegrated into the frothy air, resulting in a women with mousey brown hair and a warm maternal face to start moving towards me as if she had precisely planned each step. The freckles on her flushed face mingled with one another while she spoke, asking if I’d remember to take my
"I try to think what she would have wanted me to do. Frankly, from the night you did that terrible thing you haven’t really existed for me. I can’t help that. She was my sister."
Aarushi Roperia Honors Biology Pierce Genetics Disease She pressed the child close to her and with an unmovable gaze tightened her grip on him, taking in every detail. I paused and watched. I knew that as soon as I told her, the same creamy white walls of the hospital room that once held her uncontrollable euphoria over the birth of her son, would seem harrowing and confining.
“Cold” The dim lights of morning glow through the crystalline curtains. Like everyday, I smelled the nauseating stench that leaks from my mouth. I sit in the uncomfortable chair that my wife never replaces because she is always “working”. It’s Monday, so I would rather stay in slumber. My wife is making meatloaf with the dreadful peas that change the dish’s aroma to muck. All she does is work and never pays attention to me. The woman is honestly nothing to me. Suddenly, an idea struck me. I shall kill her at the time of saturday's supper. On the day of Tuesday, she laid out a tie which flooded me with anger. Why does she want me to get a job so bad? She constantly jabs me to get a job, but she already has enough jobs for us to keep the house.
Short Story: Children of The Sea The missing scene will be added to page 25. I could not sleep. Just knowing that if I did choose to close my eyes they might get a hold of Célianne’s baby. Older men watched her sleep.. She had her fingernails buried deep into the stillborns back. I want her to let go. “C-Célianne” I whispered. Whispering was not going to get her attention, but I did not want to draw attention too. I tapped her shoulder while others on the boat talked loudly. “Célianne j-just let the b-baby go” was all I could say. Waiting for her to wake up tear droplets fell. She sniffled time from time ,but never stopped letting the tears fall. Her grip got tighter on the stillborn. She was finally awake, but her eyes never opened. The sound of the ocean was all were heard, the smell of sweaty dirty bodies were all we smelled, and the looks of defeat were all we witnessed. “T-This is my baby” was the first thing she said. She repeated it a few more times to reassure herself. “THIS IS MY BABY. This is my baby and none of you will take this baby away from me” Célianne eyes were bloodshot red and by the
Her name is Cindy, Samantha Rose, I see her every week at the hospital I volunteer at. I walk past her on my way to the cafeteria, four times a week when I work as a chef. Cindy sits at the end of the waiting room in a corner by
Soon, Friday, it was here, and Serena almost had to, mentally drag herself to her therapy session. Earlier, she had almost felt like, heading in to town and shopping instead, her mind was kicking and screaming for her to run, her heart, telling her to do the right thing and see it through.
Pale skin and bloodshot eyes stared at me as tears flooded down her cheeks. Hysterical screams echoed through the house, blasting in my ears like a startling boom from a firework on the Fourth of July. At the bottom of the stairs I stood, grasping tightly to my younger sister's hand. Confused, I asked her, “What’s wrong?”.
Jennifer Carnegie was a “clever girl,” at least that 's what her father always told her. He doted on her and her older sister, Laura. She was three and Laura seven, when a drunk driver slammed into her mother 's car as she was driving home from work. The three of them went on without her as best they could. The only framed picture of the four of them in the house sat on a cluttered bookshelf in her father 's study. She was too young to remember her mother. For her father and Laura, the memories were too painful. They never spoke of her.