9/11 Short Stories

Out of the darkness, rivers of brilliant light and color began to flow all around her, as if a dam holding back a rainbow had miraculously burst. Then she heard the music... a melody so beautiful it tugged at her very soul. It was as if the euphony clothed her in an impenetrable blanket. She felt warm. She felt safe. Uncontrollably, tears welled up, the hymn gripping her heart, and she was forced to squeeze her eyes shut and instinctively her body curled into a protective ball.

Instead her attackers were shrieking and blindly stabbing into the darkness, trying to attack the one attacking them. The woman dropped to her knees in terror, but Jessie never dropped her gaze. One by one the attackers fell to the cacophony of bones snapping, blood splattering against the stone walls, and howls of agony. The 'hero's' cloak swept around his body as he fought them, the edges of it stained in their blood, and in the distant moonlight Jessie could just make out his face - the deep blue eyes devoid of any light, warmth, or

The floors were swept. Curtains, a deep blue, hung straight and heavy over clean windows and the walls were neatly, uniformly painted with a warm brown. Cabinet doors were closed over their contents, the bed towards the back of the room was made, and the blanket pulled over the top was smooth and brightly colored, if a bit faded and worn. Even the herbs and candles scattered across the wooden table were done so in a systematic way, everything lining up according to some sort of order that wouldn’t be obvious to any outside observer.

Flashlights stung his eyes as he wrestled to break free of the police officer's firm grip. He could see that Jimin’s grin hadn’t disappeared, even as the three officers searched through their jackets and

“Did you get a close look at him? Did you notice something, distinct about his appearance?” Detective Johnson asked.

It was sad to see it in this state of disrepair, and she hoped to remedy that soon.

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.

“Why am I here? What happened to me? Who am I?” Everything was happening so fast, It felt like i couldn't breathe. I began to cry.

I had been on a boat before, and I didn't usually tend to get sea sick. I felt a little queasy, but I knew I'd be alright. We were getting off of the ferry in less than forty minutes. I sat with Avenelle Jérôme on the edge of a window that was so long it touched the floor. So basically, we were sat on the floor, but that sounds filthy, doesn't it? "Nelly?" I mumbled, he was staring out at the murky waters below like a little kid, probably waiting for the coast of France to appear. Meanwhile, Nicki was on the top deck, using her iPhone to take pictures for her Tumblr.

Drip, drip, drop. The appearance of the rain drops hitting the water of the pool reminds me of stones being throw in the water, and how they created those perfect circles that would expand until they faded away. Though the stones made the water react, it was still the same water; it went back to being flat. Do you suppose that we take these simple visuals, and make them into something more meaningful than what it really is? It really is just simple nature, yet we put more beauty and symbolism into. At least, that was how I see the world now that my mind no longer sees tricks as magic.

“Hello” I shout. “Anybody there” I yell into the darkness. My voice echoes far into the darkness of the world beyond. I don’t know where I am, and I don’t know who I am. Each day I sit here calling out into the dark hoping to see the light. I am trapped. I travel each and every hour searching for light or a means to escape this perilous abyss. I wait for the light to reappear each day, small slivers of light at first. But, eventually the bright gleaming rays of light pierce the abyss.

Our client did not threaten the officer or make advancement to point the weapon at the officer. He held the weapon in a manner as to give the weapon over to the police for their protection and his own.

I stretch out on my white cotton bed sheets and yawn uncontrollably. Last night was unreal. I don't really remember anything that happened. I know I was with Angelina and Tara for most of the night. And then I was with Dustin. I didn't want to think right now, I wanted to sleep. But there was no way I could stay in bed any longer. I have to wake up early, even on weekends. It's some sort of "being productive" bullshit. Also I need something for this hangover, so I pull myself out of bed and walk to the bathroom.

A man of his mid-twenties, Lucas Walker, was walking down the sidewalk. The colorful leaves swirled on the ground near him. They were almost completely gone from the trees. Recently the sky had gotten darker foreboding the coming of a storm. As Lucas continued, he heard his stomach grumble. It was around noon, so it was to be expected. Quickening his pace he made his way to the nearby cafe. Lucas strolled toward the building. Looking through the window he saw himself. He wore a red sweater with jeans. Lucas mumbled about the overpriced cafe in front of him, clear displeasure flashing across his face. He pushed open the door and entered. Only a few people were there and after scanning the room for a seat he froze when his eyes crossed a certain lady.

When the gunshot rang through my ears, I, as well as everyone around me was stunned in confusion, fear, and lack of comprehension. They looked around to see where the bullet had landed and noticed him, a man in his late forties looking down at his stomach. The hand that covered the area was stained with a thick, dark red color that coated his clothing. The crowd drew away from him as he fell to his knees, just realizing that he’d been shot and he was going to die. When he looked up at the police, they looked away, ashamed of their actions and unaware of the impact his death would have on his family, his friends.