9/11 Short Stories

The old man quickly realized that he was a fake version of his kind. The old man swung at him to see if he would react and see if he can go fast in time and try to evade it. Jacob failed and got hit by the old man's blade by a bit and cut his hand open. The old man told him that he was too slow and that he can do it faster. As Jacob argued with him saying why he did that, the man got bandages and covered him up.

Outside was raining, but the sky was still blue with the sunshine, even though it was nearly five o’clock. There was a smell of rancidness mixed with the taste of disinfectant fluid. The ward was totally white, and the only color that decorates the room will be color of shadow——a kind of deep gray. There was a man lied on the bed, his leg was hanging up to make his injury to be recovered easier. The door opened, and a woman came in.

It has only been males born into the family. Android 17 wasn't mad about that, but sometimes he thought he would like to hear a girl running around the house, shouting'' where's daddy, or having random moments dressing his daughter in dresses when she's older. Of course he would buy her a doll and imagine having fake tea with his daughter when they will sip fake tea from princess cups.

It was five minutes to 11:00PM on Friday the 13th, and Dr. Jordan Alexander stood at the unit secretary’s desk in the emergency room of San Antonio Memorial Hospital. She sipped her iced coffee and casually glanced at her watch, waiting for her shift to begin. So far, it was quiet, but like most overnight shifts, that was bound to change in a heartbeat.

The next morning, Ella awoke to sound of people walking around, laughing, and talking. She grabbed the book that she had hidden under her pillow. She got out of bed and into the hallway. People were happily chatting with each other.

We begin on a dark night with wind whistling and crows cawing. It was fall of 2003, Mike and Erin were biking together. Suddenly they see a shadow in the distance and turned their bikes into a scare. Their Spines chilled and faces froze with fright. They fell down the hill that no one ever dares even lay eyes on. Stories told that there was a woman who died from wood chopping a tree that fell on her. Some people say you could even see her ghost. “Mmmm-ike? Are you ok?” Erin mumbled. Mike groaned in much pain. As Erin weakly stood up, He saw something hovering above Mike. “Mike I need you to listen to me” Erin exclaimed. “Don't move” Mike turned around and gasped! Above him was a stick tied to a tree. “Erin, are you messing with me?” Mike complained.

It was a cold, rainy night on Friday the 13th of October. A girl, Veronica, and her four friends went to the movie theater in a spooky corner of Slash Plaza with people in bloody costumes, the ticket booth covered in spider webs and green goo, ordinarily lights flickering down the hallway.

“Christina,” a faint voice say, “Christina!” My eyes flutter slowly open. “Please don’t die on me!” I feel cold clammy hands on my neck.

“Uh, yeah- I guess you can say I enjoy a cup of coffee every once in awhile.” I try to casually laugh it off to no avail.

She lightly slaps him as the torches on the walls throb, changing blue in unison with her hand of fire. Idriss shouts in pain as a quick flash ends the healing.

When I woke up, I almost drowned by the smell hand sanitizer around me. I looked and I was surrounded by doctors. “Hello Ms. Lopez, I am Doctor Rupert,” he announced.

The sunlit sky glazed the courtyard, casting a gold complexion over decayed brick and rustic car parts scattered everywhere. A wrist watch reading 5:16 beeped, echoing through the courtyard breaking silence. Ian; a drunken but wholesome man lay there turning up a bottle of Strawberry Harry’s whiskey every few seconds while staring at a photograph . Indistinctly murmuring random words, Ian fell into an alcoholic slumber. Unlike his usual intoxication, a white flash flooded his vision leaving everything in an ocean of white.

It was summertime. The refreshing breeze that blows and the heat of the sun gives me a pleasing pleasure. I heard people singing, dancing and drinking. It was my Mom 50th birthday. All our relatives and friends are here to celebrate. Everyone is boisterous and relish. I was startled when heed 10 missed calls on my phone. My phone rang again, and I didn't delay picking it up. It was my Sister-in-law. She told me that my Fiance is seriously infirm. I was distressed, petrified, and bewildered about what I heard. My body abruptly, shivering, and I felt contrite regarding what happened to him. I planned to go back home, but He insists not to. I moan every night and restless during the daytime. My mind is devastated, I can't envisage, and I can't

On days like this, the village seemed lively, not downtrodden and steeped in fear of the king and his consequences. Those who were not at the meeting bustled about, caring for animals and tending to the crop fields. Children ran about, fetching things for the adults in between their games. Many were barefoot. Fiyeira’s own boots were dusty, but she had little desire to clean them before entering the forest. The brown leather reached her knees, and she had spend good money on making sure that they fit her feet. Her jodhpurs had splashes of mud on the dark material and her cream shirt seemed like it would fit a pirate rather than a

Reem's eyes looked up at the man as he entered the tent. He looked worried, devastated, and hopeless. The idea that the man's companions have deserted him in the cover of the night never crossed her brain. Her eyes widened as he pointed at the circle in the map. Looking directly into his eyes she said slowly "Shaman. Shaaa-maaan". Then she stood up and left the tent leaving him with the map with her scribbles on it. Once outside the sunlight and warm winds gave her a puppy's smile. She felt her smooth hair move with the gentle breeze before she sat down crossing her legs and took a handful of the desert's golden sand, held her fist it in front of her face, then released her grip, letting the sand particles move in the direction of the wind.