preview

9/11 Short Stories

Good Essays
Open Document

Someone is touching my face, slowly running long fingers through my hair and down the side of my sore face. It’s what causes me to stir and gradually wake up in an aching body I wish I didn’t own. I groan, rolling my face away from the hand. The word, angel, continues to be softly repeated over and over again, but there’s something mocking, almost angry, in the voice. My vision blurs momentarily, then focuses and I freak out. I slap the hand away from me, scrambling back. Terror fires through me as my mind still tries registering what’s happening. I don’t get far in my scrambling as my back slams into a wall and I turn, panicking. No, not a wall. Bars. I’m in a cell. A very small cell. It’s barely three feet wide and five feet long. …show more content…

Biting my lip, blood spills in my mouth from trying to contain my rage. He just wants a reaction, nothing more. He just wants to get under my skin. “Or maybe you just liked seeing the blood of the ones who loved you?” I snap. “I didn’t kill Kallau. He did!” The grin on Jagger’s face grows wider. “Kallau. Cute name.” “Shut up or I’ll…” “You’ll what? You’re in a damn cell. I’m in a damn cell. You can’t touch me.” He’s right, but I can’t keep hearing him talk about my sister. He doesn’t have the right. So I do the only thing I can do, besides killing myself. I change the subject, my voice causal. “Who catch you, by the way?” Now, he’s stiffens, obviously not happy about the new topic. “I know it wasn’t Jeen or any other Reds. They don’t know what I look like good enough, not like you…or Felix,” I continue and Jagger stiffens even more, hands clenched into fists. “Two can play at this game, Jagger. So, it was Felix?” “So what if it was?” he finally says, coldly. “Shouldn’t you be more upset your friend betrayed you, just like he did me? Or are you so cold, you don’t care?” I shrug, leaning back. “I’m not upset because he wasn’t Felix. Well, I say he, but I don’t know for sure.” “What the hell are you talking …show more content…

I’ll simply knock you out and pick the lock myself.” he explains, slowly. His face leans closer to me, his breath on my neck and his lips on my ear as he speaks. I shudder at the close contact. “And I doubt you want to be unconscious again. You never know what might happen when you’re not awake.” I don’t reply and I don’t do what he wants. There’s no way on earth, I’m listening to him. His arm constricts around my neck and I gasp for air, dizziness flowing through me. I wonder how long I can hold out, but I don’t take that chance. “Alright,” I gasp, angrily. The pressure decreases, but his hold remains. “Good girl, now get to work.” I slowly slide my hands over to the other lock, carefully picking it. Without a second thought, I impulsively swing my hand around, stabbing Jagger right in the fore-arm with one of the metal tools. He cries out in pain, letting go of me and stumbling back with the tool still stuck in his arm. I waste no time, picking my lock and bursting through the cell door. I stumble forward as Jagger lunges forward trying to grab me again, his fingers barely brushing the back of my shirt. I regain my balance, breathing hard. I face him. His eyes are dark with anger as he clenches his bleeding arm. His face is pressing against the bars as he stares at me. In mocking triumph, I grin. “Not as stupid as you thought.

Get Access
Related
Get Access