Short Story

"Come in, Fredrick," she said, rising with weary bones and straightening her gown without looking at him when the door creaked open, the revelry outside following him in. She scooped up the cloth used to dry her tears and went to the hearth. Her face was swollen from sleeping, her eyes bloodshot from weeping. She was a mess and she kept her back to him as she poured liquid into a bowl and splashed her face with water cupped in her hands. The water was invigorating and brought another moan as she cooled her skin and soothed her burning eyes.

"Order for table two. Hurry up, Malina." The chef laughed as I wobbled over to him.

Mother kisses the top of Clem's head and calls for Dad to bring her school. He sets his newspaper down and gets up. He walks over to me and kisses me on the forehead and grabs my hand, giving it a firm squeeze. This is an odd gesture to me seeing as affection is not necessarily allowed in our city. Apparently it is a form of self-indulgence, which is frowned upon in Rauhallinen.

“ Oh! Wonderful but can you keep him out of combat as much as possible. He is lazy enough without a deathly injury.” said Mrs. Beaver in a quiet voice “ just don't tell him I said that, if you don't mind Grif.”

Since he knew there was an memorial, seeing it and hearing about it, he wondered if their crosses were up. Or anything to remember them. Probably not, knowing how the world saw these two teenage killers. He didn’t think they would put up anything for them since they killed thirteen innocent people. Society doesn’t take those things lightly.

In a tiny little park, in a small urban town, amongst the busy sidewalks of Merchant Row, the entrance to the magical land of Falken Dell stands open. Not that anybody can see the darkened sinister gateway at the base of an ancient tree, with its glowing edges. "Who left this open!” the caretaker yells. "This is happening way too often and I'm getting sick of it," he said as he closes the door in frustration. The glowing light blinks out in the shadow of the grotto in the park, made up of hundreds of tree branches forming a makeshift cave.

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 shakes were coming on not long after the food buzz Seth had experienced from having something nutritious in his stomach wore off. He then sat at the kitchen table while Kayla was back in the living room, legs tucked on the couch and watching cartoons again. In Seth right hand he held Officer Moldin’s card. He now debated whether he should call him.

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.

wide round face with a huge smile and short black hair cut straight as if she had a bowl on her head. Like most Flatheads she was reserved. The top accountant, Gertrude, a local girl exemplified all the typical Flathead features, and appeared quite unattractive wearing glasses as thick as the windshield of a car with a complexion reminiscent of the wicked witch of the east. All in all though the bean counters were a pleasure to work with. They pretty much stayed in the back and criticized all the bookkeeping mistakes the desk clerks made during the day. One could say they were the brains of the operation, as they carried out their duties and kept track of all the beans. As Japes became more and more popular with the staff the Flatheads

Before Xion could even lift herself out of bed to open the door, Roxas let himself into her room and plopped himself down on the bed. "Hey! Mornin' Xion!" He greeted.

“Rufus!” yelled Adán as he swung his scythe at Heqet. The goddess caught the scythe and thrown the vampire across the room as well. He crashed through the dining table in the adjacent room, causing Aaqil to jump out of his skin and paused the ritual.

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

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

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.