Short Story

Knowing you have a mate gives you a strange type of high. You know you'll never be able to hold him, or love him or even admire him from afar without getting slander from the whole pack and yet, you still somehow find yourself hoping that maybe this is the moment when you finally break out of the prison of an isolated life.

“I would still be running and screaming ‘get him out of here,'” Sylvia said and laughed.

There's been a murder, and I know who did it. Mr. Boddy invited Miss Scarlet, Prof. Plum, Mrs. Peacock, Mr. Green, Col. Mustard, and, well, not me because I was already there. I am Mr. Boddy's maid, Miss White. It all started in Mr. Boddy's mansion. Mr. Boddy was having a dinner party and didn’t know that he invited a murderer. He didn’t know that he invited murderer's.

The warm flow of water ran in rivulets down his body, the steam and soothing words reliving the pain that I had witnessed today: Seeing Paledon dead as a rock. The pain still yanked at my heart, making me feel like I was dying. It was the fear caving in me. I sat beside Paledon in my en suite’s spacious shower, gently sponging the dried blood from Paledon’s skin; I had wanted to try and clean myself up since I stunk to high heavens, but after everything Paledon had gone through (I still don’t know what exactly happened) I wouldn’t hear of it. The thoughts swirling in my head as I got back to the Tower were sinister and worrying.

Jason looked at the other papers and started laughing hysterically, “YES, I found everything I needed right now!!” Jason shoved the papers in front of Gage’s face and explained pointing to the upper right hand corner, “Mateo’s face is right here!,” he shifted his fingers to the middle, “And here’s classified info that proves he’s a criminal.” Jason took the papers back and read, “Wanted for: theft, possession of illegal goods, assault, evading arrest, and the list just goes on and on.”

Remus, seeing strait through the fake interest growled and let Moony take over his mind. He said nothing but instead rammed into the door. He bounced off it and went to do it again, this time he let his magic aid him and swirl around him as he came in contact with the sturdy wood.

Alex stood in her room, her own personal prison, looking out the floor length windows that overlooked the glittering city of Dallas. Afternoon sunlight streamed into the room, turning her auburn hair gold and casting long shadows across the room.

“No, this can’t be right.” Sonya paced the breadth of the room while the thief sat at the edge of the bed. “I was told it was rogues or something, not an assassin. More importantly, why would the High Council just kill a random merchant? He wasn’t shouting blasphemy at them or a traitor to the kingdom.”

Samuel sat on the front steps of his home. He had a sack of sugar next to him which he would take handfuls from to rub into his calloused hands. He sat there, patiently trying to remove the evidence of strenuous labor. Gently, he would rub the sandy texture in circles, his hands making a motion as if he was plotting something evil. When he was satisfied, he tiredly got up to run his hands under the garden hose. Every step he took, he could feel his back pulsing. Years of the same hard work really take a toll on the body. It’s not like Sam had a choice. It's all he knew how to do. He had to work to support his family so that his children wouldn’t have to go through what he did. As he walked through the chipped wood door frame of his home,

Two boys, Alex and Hunter , who were best friends, like pees in a pod, were walking out of the athlete locker room on the second floor. Both of them were wearing their SHS Track and Field windbreaker jackets, which were both a size small, and fit them loosely because of their height and size. They had just gotten done with their individual and team sports gym class, and where about to head to seventh period. They were talking about their track meet that they were going to be having on Saturday, and Hunter was cracking jokes as he always did, no matter the circumstances. Sometimes it got on Alex’s nerves, but most of the time, he didn’t mind. Neither of them had any idea what was about to happen. Alex was on his phone playing his new game,

Billy Weaver was walking down the street after getting off the train when something in a window front caught his eye. If was as if he was a rat that smelled cheese and trying to sniff it out. The sign read, “Breakfest n’ Bed” It felt as if he’d been staring at the sign for hours. He walked up to the door and knocked on the door. Not after two seconds of knocking on the door it opened. There stood a woman, old, small, and looked like a normal grandmother.

Cloud just shook his head and laid down on the floor next to the sheep. The smile that had formed on his face refused to go away. He was happy that he was able to stay in the same room as Shisa.

It was the party of the year, only the hottest, richest, and most popular teen socialites could attend. It was in celebration of surviving their first full week of senior year. There they were, scattered across the enormous penthouse, martinis in hand and holding meaningless conversations with people they probably didn’t like talking about how much daddy’s money bought them this weekend.It was the same spiel over and over again, money this money that, it was almost like because they had so much money it's all they could talk about. There was however something else a little less shallow among their conversations. There had been rumours circulating around Pembroke Preparatory School all week that Cordelia Scott, the once wild child “it” girl

Gary must have phoned while she slept; he’d left a voicemail to say he would see her for breakfast, and to expect Liz. Jen played the message repeatedly, agonising over each word, his tone, the brevity of the message. She was desperate to see him, to judge the effect her behaviour of last night had had on him, yet she dreaded this encounter. Had he asked Liz to come as a witness or a referee? Coffee was percolating, the croissants warming in the oven. Angie was at the table; Jen could see her knee jerking, as if keeping beat to a song only audible to her.

Loche Koep had to wake up especially early this morning, for today, he will travel down from London on the slow afternoon train.