Death comes swift. I lied awake in bed, unsure of what would happen to me now that Nan was dead. She was all I had for the last 16 years, and while she wasn't accepting of who, what, I am... I know she still had some love for me. My thoughts swirled in my head much as they had for the past week: "where will I go?", "What if they find out about me?", "What if I am discovered?" I knew from my grandmother that something terrible would happen if anyone discovered my... abilities. By the age of nine I had been aloof and withdrawn in school, fearful that I might reveal myself to someone. She forced me to church with her, begging the lord to extract my "devil's gifts" as she called them. I had one saving grace with my abilities, she never found out that I was gay. She was being buried the next day, and I would have to be placed in the care of someone, most likely a stranger. I felt my tears begin to flow again, as my fear started to grip around my throat. I felt a warmth fill my body and a weightlessness as I let my tears fall, and then I heard the 'splat' as a tear hit the floor. As soon as the sound registered I free falled into the side of my twin mattress, bounced off, and fell to the floor. I scrambled to my feet ignoring the pain in my hip as I heard someone rush to my door. "What are you doing in here Kyle?" my aunt's shrill voice cutting the silence. "N-nothing, I fell out of bed..." I said as I got back into bed, hiding the tears in my eyes. "Well get back in bed, just try and ruin tomorrow-" she walked out in a huff before finishing. I never understood why they all hated me, at first I thought it was because my mother abandoned me when I was a baby with my grandmother, I found out later that they feared me for my po... ... middle of paper ... ...to face the stares and the whispers, like every Sunday. None of them knew why my grandmother was so adamant on me coming to the church so often, causing rumors to circle around her and I. But, I knew I had to make it into the church. I rubbed my eyes and tried my best to suppress any residual sobs, and crawled over the seat to get out of the car. With my feet on the ground I looked up and saw a group of mourners in all black huddled by the door. I tried to hide my puffy eyes as I passed them, but something caught my eye. One of them, a girl, had hair like fire: Reds, oranges, and bright white at the ends shimmered in the morning light. I looked back at the ground when I heard someone say, "Hey there Mr. Dean." I whipped my head around and saw Emma standing there looking at me with a broad smile on her face. "I hate to do this now, but we really have to talk to you."
I woke up at John Morris’ house, on his coach. As I knocked a flyaway hair out of my face I noticed my face was wet, with tears, and then it all hit me at once that my Dad and Mrs. Borden were dead. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I heard John Morris ask if I was alright, but that seemed like a completely different world, I responded with a meek okay, so Mr. Morris wouldn’t see me like this. That didn’t work though, I saw his tall shadowy figure ducking under the door frame with tea. As Mr. Morris sat down and put the tea on the coffee table in front of us, I turned my head and quickly wiped the tears from my eyes in hopes he wouldn’t see.
It was a sunny day with a sweet aroma of blooming tulips. The sunlight glittered on their faces as the breeze rattled the chestnut tree above. There was an occasional giggle as they talked, but there was also a hint of discomfort and awkwardness between them as they peeked at each other’s face and recoiled when the other looked up. When the bell rang twice, I saw them say goodbye and walk away from each other. In the darkness of the crowd, a glimmer flashed into my eyes from Hannah’s cheeks.
I received the call that my brother had overdosed when I was going to a haunted house with a couple of my friends. My mother had not known the severity and told me not to worry. Steven had overdosed in the past so I was not as concerned as I should have been. My friends and I kept on with our festivities and then they dropped me off at my house. There was no one home and I became distressed. When I called my mother she told me to just go to bed and that they would be home soon. I forced myself to sleep. I was in a daze when my mother and father came into my room to tell me that my brother was dead. I don’t know what happened in my brain, but I could not talk and I could not cry. I believe I brushed it off as an awful nightmare. My unconscious demeanor scared my parents so they kept sending people in my room trying to get through to me. I woke up to my best friend hugging me, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke up to my grandma holding my hand with tears flowing down her eyes, not saying a word, and then she left. I woke to my godmother speaking about grief and how I needed to believe that he was gone, and then she left. How was I supposed to believe that my brother was no longer on this earth? I sat there on my bed alone as the idea of my brother dying crept into my mind. My heart began to literally ache. I cried hysterically for hours on hours. It has been a year since he has passed and it doesn’t get any
One night I was kitchen washing the dishes when all of the sudden my mother walked in and asked me if I have talked to my dad. I had replied that I hadn't heard from him in about a year. The next thing I know the words "Your Grandpa passed away yesterday morning, nobody knows were your dad is and they can't keep his body in the morgue past tomorrow." came from her mouth. I just stood there in shock, I couldn’t do anything. She told me to get ready and that we could drive up to my dads house in Ona. When we got there the windows were broken and covered up with some type of sheet and there was a piece of paper on his door that read "Go away. Just leave me alone...please.". We wrote a note and put it on the door and went home. That night I laid in my bed screaming inside my head and crying my eyes out for over a hour. In the morning I had a huge panic attack. I kept hearing ringing and buzzing noises and I could hardly breathe. It took me about thirty minutes to work up the nerve to come out of my bedroom. I ended up going
With only the moon and stars to guide her, she picked her way down to the trucks, where a few embers of the fire remained. She could hear something that sounded like wind On the ground were unidentifiable lumps that seemed to be moving in the nonexistent breeze. On the front of one of the looming vehicles was a blood stain. Emmaline crept toward it. On her way there she accidentally stepped on one of the lumps and heard a man-like squawk. She looked down and saw two eyes glistening in the moonlight and an open mouth still. She slowly turned around in a circle. The lumps that Emmaline had assumed to be tree stumps earlier were now rising from the ground and shouting. Fear was welling up inside Emmaline but she told herself to stay brave for Edgar’s sake and she let out a deafening battle cry and charged at the nearest man. He ran towards the blood-stained truck and jumped up into the cab, Emmaline close behind. The soldier shut the door in Emmaline’s face and she turned around. The other men were all packing up as fast as they could. Emmaline stayed until every truck had left, watching silently with an evil glare. Then she raced back up the hill to join her Father and
I peeled open my eyes, feeling the cloth beneath me. It feels like night now but I can see the light shine through the logs on my roof. I pushed myself from my unsteady bed and walked downstairs. My brother, Devrik, greeted me with a good-bye as he walked out the door to work with our father in the fields. Today was my day to milk the cow. I walked over to my chest in the corner of the room. 'Lillian Cartwright' was engraved into the chest. I shuffled my hands through the chest looking for my Bible. I soon picked up the leather wrapped book and placed it on the table side next to the chest. I went back to the chest and picked up my skirt my aunt had just made for me and started to wash it. I then went outside to lay it on the string outside to dry.
The sun is making its way up the horizon, but has not yet filled the sky with its cheerful rays. We exit the bus and immediately turned into statues. We stood next the flag pole staring at the school entrance. “This is going to be okay. This is going to be okay” I mumbled to myself. I wanted to enter, nonetheless, gravity glued my feet down to the cold concrete ground. My hands started sweating through my thin-knitted pink sweater and tears were about to roll off my eyes. Shortly after, I saw a shadow of a tall woman approaching us from the school’s front door. My heart beats like a drum as she carefully making her way toward us like you would when you proceed a scared puppy. She stood about four feet away from us making sure she’s not invading our comfort zone. She knelt down and shows us her school staff ID card while holding her buzzing walkie talkie on the other hand. She then ask for our names and walked us one by one to our classrooms. I remember it was so early that I had to sit in front of my class waiting for my teacher to
Slowly I turn in a circle as I take in everything around me. Next to me Percy mumbles something about an orientation film, and gestures for me to follow him. I ignore him and turn in a circle again. My breath is taken away. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper. Percy nods impatiently, “Now come on, Annabeth…” his voice trails off, “Actually, I need to go. I’ll catch up with you later.” He runs off, leaving me standing alone. I turn again and my eyes fall onto a little girl sitting by a small fire. I walk over. “Hello. Why are you sitting all alone?” I ask her. She looks up at me. “Child,” she says to me, as if I were the little girl, “I am always alone. You are the first to notice me in decades.” I cock my head, “You don’t look older than one decade. So what do you mean by decades?” The girls form flickers, one minute a flame, then the girl again. “I am Hestia, goddess of the hearth, guardian of hope. I have been around far longer than one decade,” she says. “You-you’re a goddess?” I ask, unbelieving. She nods, “Yes, my dear.” I look up and notice a boy running this way. He is tall with long black hair and very pale skin. He wears all black, as if he is trying to blend in with the shadows. He looks about a year older than me, but it’s kind of hard to tell. “Hestia,” he says as he sits down next to the goddess. Then he looks up at me. “Whoa,” he whispers. I suddenly feel very self-conscious. I tuck my hair behind my ear and straighten my T-shirt. “My boy, what is it?” Hestia asks. He comes out of his trance and looks at Hestia’s face. “I must know,” he says, “What is that girl’s name?” Both Hestia and the boy look at me. “Oh. Uh… people call me Nico,” I say. The boy’s eyes get real big, and he looks at ...
“Dreams?” She asked, face so heartbroken it hurt me to know how badly I hurt hurt her.
It was late I thought. Almost midnight yet I was still unable to sleep. I stared thoughtlessly at the moving shadows mumbling to myself, "it was just a story" but in my heart I knew it wasn't, it was more than a story, much, much more. Then, a crow appeared in the middle of my room. The crow stared at me with such intensity that I fell backwards into the safety of my pillow. I stared at the crow in shock as it disappeared into my closet and that's when I heard it, a long piercing whine that was like a nail to a chalkboard. I prayed that it would go away, I prayed with all my heart but it stayed there continuing its long whine. It was then when I caught a glimpse of it. I saw two glowing bloodshot eyes stare at me. I let out a scream born from terror and almost immediately my dad came bursting into my room. He stared at me with confusion but all I could do was point a shaking finger at my closet door. Cautiously, my father marched into the closet door only to find nothing inside. Then, without warning, the closet door slammed shut along with my father still inside.
Everyone, regardless your race, gender, ethnicity, color, etc… has that one trait, or skill, talent which makes them who they are also known as being unique. Some folks wish they could disappear in other word to be invisible, others are to transform either into a robot or their favorite cartoon characters, and so on… well mines happen to be that I believe I could be anything I put my mind to. It wasn’t something i wished for or anything crazy, but it was something I was blessed with. No one in the entire world knew about my trait or talent. A Sunday morning at nine o’clock I was heading to church. Remind you church starts at nine thirty, in which my house and the church were like fifteen minutes away from each other. That morning I was dressing all nice in my GQ gray suit with my black & white bow tie and my comfortable black Prada dressy shoes looking rather dapper. At the time I was eighteen years old living in my own apartment. As I was heading to church that morning driving on I-95 in my black 1998 Toyota Camry, nothing fancy at all. I was really jamming in other word listening to music. I was having a good time until I realized my not so fancy car started to shake. I then turn the volume of my stereo in the car all the way down to zero. And I carefully drove my car slowly on the side of the road. Now, as I was doing so, I heard something loud similar to an explosion where the engine is. Right then and there I knew my car was done for. After pulling to the side of the road, I walked outside the car, then lift the hood of my car. As I lifted it up a tremendous amount of smoke was coming from the hood of my car. Right then and there my eyes became watery, my nose started running, and I started coughing. To avoid getting sick and...
There I was running around and playing while everyone grieved. I had no knowledge of what we were gathered for, all I knew was that it was fun to pretend I was Alice in wonderland. The halls and walls lined up with flowers and flowered ornaments all throughout the house. The house wasn’t as dull as it would usually be, it was alive with colors now. My little black shoes shiny and cute with a big black bow right in the center, and my sparkly fluffy dress stood out from all the others. This vivid yet faint memory of what I thought was a family reunion was really my grandmother’s wake. My mother’s eyes swollen and red from all her crying, I thought if she would only eat something maybe she wouldn’t feel like crying so much. I remember standing
Like a flash of lightning, the conversation I had with Celeste on Monday, jolted my mind. Her vision, me being at the library reading newspapers, the red book, and the dark spirit. I looked around the classroom. I was now in homeroom. Students were either sleeping or listening to their music devices. Glancing out the window, I could see the sky churning into a dark blue,
It was December 13th, two days before my birthday. I was ecstatic, I had just gotten my books for math, my first class of the day, and was walking into class when I overheard Zeyad telling someone that the short girl who dyed her hair a lot had passed away last night. I immediately knew who he was talking about, I asked him if he was talking about Migdalia Perez, Jazzys real name, and he said yes. My books crashing to the floor barely faze me as Zeyad speaks. The sound of laughter and joy from the people around me resonate in my ears as I feel tears rush to my eyes begging to be released. A wave of chills rush through my body as I try to comprehend what I was just told. I wanted to deny it, but who would lie about such a thing? I found purchase on my desk before the tears sprung out of my eyes without my consent. A sob racks throughout my body as my breathing picks up. My surroundings became fuzzy and I could barely register the sound of my friends asking what's wrong and the teacher telling me to go to guidance. I weakly refused as I attempted to stop crying so that I wouldn’t miss the lesson, but he urged me despite my impuissant
The moment we stepped foot into the hospital, I could hear my aunt telling my mother that “he is in a better place now”. At that moment, something had already told me that my dad was deceased; it was like I could feel it or something. I felt the chills that all of a sudden came on my arms. As my mother and grandmother were both holding my hand, they took me into this small room. The walls were white, and it had a table with four tissue boxes sitting on the top. My other grandmother was there, and so were my two aunts, my uncles, and