Short Story Of Mikey: A Fictional Narrative

“Earlier today, we learned that an attempt was made on your cousin’s life,” her father said to her. “Your mother has so much grief for your cousin, because of the actions that he has made since the past two years – deeds worthy of being told to all

Villains do not become malicious from thin air, there is always a reason behind their actions. In the book Day 21 by Kass Morgan, the reader is given more detail on the character Murphy. This character follows no rules and at first has his followers but that quickly changes. Murphy hunts down and in a way forces a 13-year-old girl to commit suicide, and is then banished from the camp. He eventually comes back and tries to kill several people.

“I forgot. Your mother was in your study the night I invited them for dinner. She came in here to have a talk with you. You were slightly incapacitated, at the time, I believe.”

“ I-I-I am so sorry, I also have family issues.” She said with a sad look on her face “My father was in charge of Auschwitz and he let my little brother Bruno die in a concentration camp…” she was cut off by the noise of dogs barking .

Isaac’s body heated from the embarrassment. “I kind of forgot to. What were you trying to tell me?”

A stillness settled around them, all the hospital sounds fading into the background as the enormity of Tom’s admission finally hit home. The dark-haired officer rose to his feet, his movements slow and clumsy. But as a surge of adrenaline secreted into his system, his eyes darted wildly around him and the sudden need to escape the close confines of the room overwhelmed him. “I can’t...I...I’ve gotta go!” he blurted out, and spinning around, he stumbled out the door, hot blinding tears blurring his

“So do you think you can let me ask you some questions?” Anna asked Martin.

“No I don’t agree with them letting him out early. He was sentenced to 7 years and it hasn’t even been 5 yet. That day is still fresh in everyone’s mind so I suggest he stay as far away from Fort Iron as possible if he knows what’s good for him.”

“I thought you were by yourself, because I didn’t see your family. So I got nervous.”

“I...I don’t know. Sometimes I wish dad would just come back. And other times I wish he was never alive. He left us, to suffer with an alcoholic mother, while he’s probably living a good life with another wife who’s 20 years younger than him.” I rolled up my sleeve, tracing the scars on my wrist. We stared at the passing cars, hoping one of those was mom’s.

He looked over to his right and saw a group of prisoners screaming at him, begging him to run towards them to complete the plan. Running to them meant freedom, but before he could move a muscle, he heard someone in the distance screaming his name. Closing his eyes and covering his ears would’ve been a good fantasy, but confronting

“They let me out after I proved I was good. I had to kill everyone that was necessary in order to be with your dad because I loved him first. I knew him first too. And now it’s your turn.”

John was ordered to guard the outside of the interrogation chamber, stopping the prisoner if he somehow escaped. Good luck with that, he thought, the prison security is top-notch, with only the most daring of criminals and the best security.

“My father killed my mother,” he says eventually. It’s horribly casual, the way the words tumble out of his mouth, but he can’t think of any other way to say them.

I quickly began to spill everything that I had just witnessed. “ Well my dad was hitting my mom, and she was crying and yelling for him to stop.”