Short Story

Every story has a beginning; mine just happens to start on a cool fall day. The yellow-brown leaves lay beneath my feet as they crunch with each step I take. I hear my mom calling my name, “Greyson” she says with an enthusiastic tone, and I was walking towards the house. I turn around to say, see you later to a couple of my friends; once again I hear my name being shouted followed with the words, “dinner is ready.” I turn around and start walking faster to be able to get toward the door before my mom closes it. Fortunately, I had made it to the side door while it was still open, but as I approach the door, no one in sight, the air conditioning blowing on me sending chills up my body. I stand there blankly. Jolted by a voice, I faintly hear someone say to shut the door, so I comply with this demand. I closed the door then walk towards the kitchen to sit down and eat. As I wait for all the plates to be set out, my dad engages in a conversation with me. He asks how my day was, I give a moderately short answer: ok, I say. I hear the porcelain plates lay on granite; the plates are now out, so I get out of my seat to go get the food. As I am getting my food my mom enters the laundry room where the side door is located and walks out shortly after I sit down. I was able to sense the tension that was built up in the room. My parents murmur to one another. I start to eat slower to be able to hear these ever so light whispers. I am only able to pick up a few words, one of them being my name. The whispers come to cease. I continue to eat my food; my parent’s look over at me and I look at them. My dad glances at me and says my name, “Greyson”, in a rather stern voice, “You forgot to lock the side door.” My heart drops, this was one of the only requests that my parents had asked of me.

and saw her mom and sister, in their own bikinis. Smiling, she placed a handful of sun screen on her legs and rubbed it in, she continued up to her chest, neck, and face. Offering her sister, the bottle. Taking off her bikini top, she laid face forward, so her sister could place some lotion on her back, and places where she could not reach.

7:30 AM. Breakfasts. Immaculate uniform on. 8AM. Out the door. I didn’t know what to expect. Anxious. It felt like just yesterday when I was latching onto my mother’s nipples and now … I’m just going to be thrown into a class with 30 or so odd people that I do not even know. After combating the congested main road, we finally entered the parking lot. A swarm of butterflies began to flutter in my stomach. Nervousness. We got out of the car. My mum, older brother and sister and I and proceeded to walk to my classroom. I held firmly onto my mother’s hands. Everything was different. Everything was gigantic. The people, the buildings and even my uniform. I felt like a minute organism being swallowed up by my own uniform. Mum always had a strong opinion on buying a school uniform two sizes up because she always said “It will last longer”. After 10 minutes of circling around the primary school twice we finally found my classroom at last, 1B. Mrs Hoffman’s Class. She had a rainfall of wrinkles on her face and gave off Miss Trunchball vibes from Matilda. She was wearing an old fashioned blouse accompanied by bell bottom jeans, which suggested that she was from the sixties. She gave a hearty smile and landed her vein snaking hands over my back shaking away a bit of my nervous feelings. 8:30 AM. The bell had rang and it was time for my mother to depart. My heart began to pound ba-dum

“Arriving at the top of the stairs, Andrew said, “That room by the light fixture is their bedroom,” he said, pointing to a door about twenty-five feet down the hallway.

It was Saturday morning and I had just woke up. I received an email from the coach that coaches one of the best teams. I could not believe what I had just seen. On the email it wrote “Dear Victoria, I had watched you play in a few games, and I think you would be a good addition to my team. Would you want to come to practice tonight?” I thought to myself, I am not good enough, so maybe I should not go. But as the day went on, I actually thought that I should go just for the experience.

The group concluded that, at nearly five-past, the gnats would have to go hungry and they filed out of the booth. They slipped past Evan without much more than a cursory word-- whether the presence of two known staff members assuaged him or it was just in his nature to be completely unperturbed by a quintet of off-the-clock individuals stepping confidently past the Employees Only sign was unclear.

Laughter of young men floated through the air like chimes on a breezy day as they sparred amongst each other near the barracks of Highgarden. As young Lords of the Reach, they all had dreams of finding glory for themselves as knights. Yet only one of them had been anointed, the future Lord of Highgarden, Mace Tyrell, whom many believed his Lord father had bought the title rather than earned it by his own merit. Having just turned seven-and-ten not three moons prior, one could see glimpses of the man Mace would become. Tall with broad shoulders, his scalp was covered with thick, curly brown tendrils of sweaty hair that dangled loosely over his brow covering hazel eyes as his bulky body heaved for breath from the exertion. His strong jaw is

Sam wakes up soaked in sweat, the morning sun boiling through the windows. A crick in his neck and cramped legs, aching from being tucked into the back seat of the Impala. He can’t help but groan as he feels the back of his t-shirt unstick from the smooth leather. There are similar sounds of misery as Dean tries to peel himself off the front seat and cracks open the car door with a squeak. His heavy booted feet hit the ground with a crunch and Sam can hear Dean’s shoulders pop as he stretches. There's a grumble from his brother as Dean kicks away whatever debris his boots landed on.

I was charging across campus in a daze, only focusing on the handful of memory refreshers in my hand. People were bumping me as I pushed my way through several crowds just trying to get to class on time. I looked down at my pristine steel gray Akribos watch noticing that I had two minutes to get to my Anatomy and Physiology class for my final of first semester. My quick pace immediately turned into a sprint as I still had to journey half way across campus. The brisk fall wind blew my hair against my face as the fall leaves fell from the trees. I ran through the doors of Kela Lecture Hall and flew up the right staircase to find the door to my class slowly closing. I sprinted full speed towards the door and slammed my hand between the wall

Mitch clung to the side of the cliff, wincing at the burn from his virtual muscles, his arms shaking as he heaved a leg up and over the edge. As his palm hit a soft tuft of neon-green grass, he thought about how real it felt. An oasis of organic sensation in an otherwise overclocked world. The cool blades calmed his soul for a whole two seconds before a fresh blast of digital artillery ricocheted off the nearest rock, sending shards flying into the back of his hand, tearing at the flesh as he clung for dear life.

“Hello?” [ONE] rolled their eyes as they said the word. Come on, they were better than this. They didn’t need to talk to themselves.

Jordan and I had decided to go to the restaurant near by to eat. Jordan is my boyfriend of 3 years and lately he has been very awkward. A good awkward. He is not a person to be awkward, but I led it slide. The food came and we both ordered fried rice and chicken. The topic that had been raised was travelling and the places we would love to go. Once we had finished eating, it was the moment where both Jordan and I reached for the bill to pay for the food at The Polar Clove in London, England. A classic Chinese restaurant with the popular noodle dish topped with vegetables and garnishes. Jordan, being very attentive reached for the receipt and quickly took out the money to pay. A waiter walked by and picked up the money and receipt and gave

3 young boys were running around the field was near where they live in the satellite sector. One of golden blonde hair another of fire orange hair and the last of black and yellow hair named in order Jack Atlas, Crow Hogan, and Yusei Fudo. The three boys were playing tag and soon as Crow was it the other two ran for the hills. Yusei was running, then he saw cards that fallen on the ground thinking his fell out of his pocket, he then picked one up it happened to be the duel monsters card, Chaos Sorcerer “This isn't one of my cards” he thinks “So whos is it” he said, looking around

THE TIME has come that I must tell the events which began in 40 Pest St. The houses which were reddish-black looked as if they had survived mysteriously from the fire of London. The house in front of my window, covered with an occasional wisp of creeper, was as blank and empty looking as any plague-ridden residence subsequently licked by flames and saliv’d with smoke. This is not the way that I had imagined New York.

The expansive hallway stretched out in front of me, as I hesitantly stepped through the massive glass doors. The spacious building left me feeling exposed and alone. I took my first step, and then I took another. I felt as if I were trudging down the red carpet with scrutinizing eyes watching and judging my every move. They could see through my false identity I had created, as if it were crystal clear glass. I was sure that every passing student was wondering why I kept up the act, and why I even bothered to learn amongst them. The anxiety and uncertainty weaved my stomach into painful knots, making each heavy step all the more painful.