Staring contest

My story takes place in during the summer of 2015. I had just recently got back from my long trip from New York and I was finally back home after a year. When I got home I started missing having a dog to take care of and to have around for company. Earlier in the year my older sister took the old family dog back to her in Boston, so I suddenly felt an urge to get another dog. I knew that It was wrong to get a new dog just because I missed my old one, but it didn't matter. I still wanted a new companion

Finally! Food! For a minute I thought I was going to starve to death here. I was sitting down and savoring the blue packet of Doritos right now I had in my hand. With my back leaning against the cluster of boxes, I looked up at Soundwave and shouted a short thank you to him. I was pretty sure that he was the one that got me all of these boxes of food. Soundwave just stared at me without response. Grabbing the opened bottle of water I had next to me, I downed the remaining water. Who knew that a

Water leaking from the tap every so often. She walked into the kitchen, trying her best to see through the dark with the dusty old curtains blocking out the light. The room is dark but just a slight glow was emanating from the window as the cheerful laughs bounced off the white, snow covered walls, which are now covered with a crimson red, silky liquid; Blood. She having been told, like every other solider, to always compare and contrast the happening outside and that of what is going on in this

beck and call, helping me deal with anything as I stared into his pure, crystal blue eyes. Eyes that carried me into the deep unconscious euphoria where even dreams couldn’t taint me with their foul touch. But instead of staring into those beautiful blue eyes, I find myself staring into endless black pits in a pale skull framed with ratty black

“Can I open the window?” So fixated on the interrogation, Razaa’s question made Ally jump. Rizwan waved his consent and continued. “I have heard a version of the story. Maybe you can tell me if this is accurate.” The morning sun spread across the room the instant the drapes behind her pulled apart. “Razaa,” he said. “You were there when my son died. No?” When the door slid open, a much-needed breeze wound through the room, cooling them off. “Yes, sir.” He smiled at the man behind Ally. “Wassim

THE FORMAL – BY SUE MURRAY CHARACTERS Frank Tatiana Lisa Paul SCENE ONE – DON’T TELL ANYONE LISA CENTERED ON STAGE, LIGHTS DIMMED, AND SPOTLIGHT ON LISA. LISA The formal. Apparently the hardest part of our high school lives, a night we are all suppose to remember. Well this formal has definitely scarred me for life. All the money spent, the illegal drinking, the boys and most of all Tatiana’s brother, Frank. Although of course you have not yet heard of him or his stupid bad ass accomplishments

It was quiet on the sea that day. Juana sat with her firstborn in her arms, and watched the clear water. The sea was a mirror that day, and as she looked down into the blue she saw her own face staring back. Worry was present in her eyes, as she continued staring down, hoping for a glimpse of anything other than herself. Waves lapped at the canoe, slowly rocking the boat back and forth, causing Coyotito to still in her arms. She glanced down to check the infant was still breathing, simply to satisfy

found staring back at me. I frowned at the question asking myself the same thing. The day had been terrible, and for what reason I was unsure. I was unhappy and wanted to get away. I wanted to go somewhere where happiness overflowed

sight of the crimson liquid would scare others into hyperventilation, but the bold color seemed to calm the girl as it flowed down her hands, sticking in between her fingers. She stared in awe as her father gurgled and choked, his eyes bulging and staring right at her. His hands clasped across his throat, desperately trying to stop the blood from spilling out of his body. He wanted to scream, to let someone know that he was dying, but his vocal coords were ripped and bleeding. So he had no other

of gray, his body grew thinner in fact so did his face. His skin looked sick and pale and his head was still bald. Looking at him made me weak. Bruno almost looked like a Jew. TWO Every time I visited the gas chambers there Bruno sat, staring at me almost as if he wanted to tell me something. Today, I worked up the courage to go up to Bruno and he said no words. He just stared at me, with fear in his eyes. He looked at me the way my soldiers looked at me. He said nothing but his voice