What Is In Time Short Story

Dragging himself to a sitting position he drags his hands over his face and hair. Pushing himself to his feet he stumbles, making his way to the table. He reads the note, leaving it where it lays as he pulls a bottle out of his pack and staggers back to his bed.

I jolted up and looked around, it's my bedroom.. It was a dream. Why would I have a dream like that? I'm not sure.

Cord yelled donning his night robe and fumbling with the belt, while also scampering to the door bare feet through the living room. The carpet muted his footfalls.

Slowly, they can hear footsteps creaking through the old wooden floor. George comes out and asks, “What can I do?”

“Help me! My arm fell off!!!!” The servant limps over to her. That is when she knew. “AHHHHHH!”

While they were putting him down, one arm decided it was time fall on the side. Dropping out of the blanket’s covert, like in a bad horror movie. Seeing it the first, Cisco was the first to reach it. He grabbed the frozen limb and was about to hide it back when he suddenly stopped moving all together.

He pressed his fingers against the cold skin, and just as he thought, there was no pulse. He stood up and smiled at the young woman with the Luger in her hands. It shook in her grasp as she realized what she had done.

He pushes her of him, as she falls on the shining white tiles of the hallway. She rolls onto her stomach and pleads for him not to leave, crawling and grabbing onto his leg. He wiggles his left leg, unhinging her and leaving her on the tiles scream for him to return. He heads for the door and leaves leaving her crying on the floor.

They jumped into the entrance. The man dumped Emily to the ground, and used his massive hairy hands to pull up the bookcase.

She lay on the floor, still but breathing as normally as she could, storing energy to continue her climb. The red light made her nervous. She didn’t want to make a sudden movement, like yanking the bag away, but she wasn’t leaving without it. She felt a blackout coming again; however fought this time, instead of welcoming the relief. Finally, the red floating light moved off to join its friends.

He turns at the sound of scraping, the quiet shrill of metal as a sword is pulled from its scabbard. “I was not in poor form tonight,” she says, “And I will prove it.”

He woke up in a cylindrical room. It had no door, windows, or any way to get out. Tyler couldn’t even understand how he could breathe. He didn’t mind having some time to think. He knew that he was dreaming, and whenever he died in his dream he went to a new dream. It already seemed like it had been way more than a night of dreaming. Maybe if he went through enough dreams he would wake up. All he had to do was die in each dream. Tyler laughed.

This time I am sure I changed. Learning from my mistakes and failures. To start off I had changed the layout of FW5. Reading the rubric came as a shock. It finally made sense on how I was stumbling on. So with that in mind I started utilizing transitions. As I used transitions, moving between ideas became significantly less awkward. I also came to learn variations between sentences helped. I changed my sentences to intricate or minimalistic, style of sentences or formating. Looking back i realized i used evidence wrongly. The ideas were unsupportive or jumbled. It became helpful to use idea organizers or mind maps. Using this new knowledge I rewritten my FW5 with a little more

She supposes she'll go put them away, if only to distract herself from the gunshot still echoing in her head. In the bathroom she finds the opposite vanity cabinets empty for her use and she fills the mirrored shelves with her things. Her arm twinges slightly but she ignores it, finishing putting her things away. Her eyes flicker to the movement in her mirror, the prince sliding into the bathroom and stalking up behind her with a sleepy look on his face with his sleep mussed hair and wrinkled button up shirt he looks devilishly handsome without trying. She's stretching up to the top shelf to put her hair brush away when the prince snatches the brush out of her hand and placing it on the shelf for her then settling his hand on her upper arm, the bandaged one.

Too tired to even make it upstairs, she gathered the soft pillows to her chest and gave herself up to sweet oblivion. As she drifted deeper and deeper into sleep, a dream of Sean and Lacey flitted in and out of her consciousness.