9/11 Short Stories

Night shrouded the boulders from view; only their jagged tips visible over the pounding waves. Lucas huddled against the wind, gazing out over the dark waters—wild, uncontrollable, all-consuming. He massaged his temples, his thoughts spiralling out of control. Would it be painful? He wondered, to jump, to feel your skull cracking against the rocks? Surely no more painful, than to not jump. The sky was dark velvet overhead, sequinned with stars. Lucas saw no beauty in its everlasting patchwork. The wind smothered him head on, his coat hood flickering out behind him. He fumbled for the jacket fastenings; hands trembling violently. After a couple of attempts, it hung open. He flung it off and reached to unbuckle his belt, throwing it to the ground with a clatter. Through his thin t-shirt, the cold stabbed uncomfortably at his skin—like being pricked repeatedly by the thorn of a rose. Though soon, the cold wouldn’t matter anymore. Nothing would matter anymore. “Lucas!” May screamed. Her heart thudded against her chest as she repeated herself—over and over. Trying to repress the sobs that racked her slight frame, she ran. Her flashlight sent spiralling shadows over the rocks. She wanted to scream, but she needed to keep going. She had to find him. Rain hammered against the rocks, giving them a

Her lungs burnt and her breath caught in her throat. Every second she wasted was a second closer to losing him. Then she saw him, a distorted shadow in the moonlight. She cried out his name again through chapped lips. Tears pooled in her eyes, like a gentle ocean resembling her bleeding heart. Mascara smudged around her cheeks like charcoal. She stumbled forwards, her legs threatening to give way. Rough edged rocks tore at her clothes, slashing her trousers like something in a horror movie. But she had to keep going. After all they had been through, she couldn’t lose him now. Not