A Short Story : A Story?

“I’m fine!” they rushed out, forcing their eyes to meet with his. It almost stung. “I really am fine.”

“Ender looked at the others coldly. “You might be having some idea of ganging up on me …. But just remember what I do to people who try to hurt me.”

"Don't call me that" the redheaded man bite out hissing slightly at the pain in his back and thigh, Aomine noticed this so he changed his demeanour

“Is there a problem, Miss?” One of the officers asked again. Wanting so badly to say that everything was all right, and send them away. Carol, for a few seconds, stares at William searching his eyes for an apology, but all she could see was hatred and the frightened looks on her children’s faces. And they could not be described in words.

Jake moved in closer. “Most people wouldn’t pick sides. I’m lucky you did.” He extended his hand. “Are you hurt?”

“Nothing, I got bored.” She let out a deep breath when he took her Kate Spade agenda from her hands and flipped through the gold edged pages. “Why do you look like that? You’re acting like I came in to execute

“I’m smarter than that,” she sniped. “I know not to take too much. I take what I can handle and if I ever take too much, I got a place.”

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist to stop him. An image flashed of her face, upper lip bloody, color returning to her skin. “I thought you were dead. I saw you get shot.”

In today’s world we are all mostly driven by Greed. We do anything we can for enough money to live a happy life. In the tragedy of Macbeth a play by Shakespeare most of the characters are driven by greed as well, but in a different instance. Characters such as Macbeth are doing whatever they can to become king. These things include mercenaries, the killing of families and a whole lot of death.

Elliot laughs spitefully. "Abigail you sound bloody mad! Sebastian was not a demon nor did he kill our father. If this is your idea of another joke it is not in the least bit funny!" He snarls.

Honestly the past couple of days, I did not work out. Stayed indoors most of the time completing unfinished work and studying for upcoming tests. However, the reason for not working out is because there is a theory I want to attempt this week. Challenges I faced over the past couple of days were visuals for Marching Band. Okay, there are some people in the world who says that Marching Band ain't a sport. In my opinion, a sport is defined by physical exertion output (endurance), skills, rules, and competition. Though that is just my opinion, others have their own definition of what is considered a sport. Overall, since I have done absolutely nothing for the past week. Adjustments are necessary for the upcoming week. Requiring me to exercise daily and comparing the data I have collected from the past couple of days. The progress that I and Wendy have remarkably benefited us in terms of physical appearance. Our endurance and determination to keep pushing forward have increased exponentially.

“Aaron what are you doing out here? Come back inside, this rounds on me!” Silvia said, breaking up the mess that was in the process.

With a grimace, he closed the distance between them. “Much obliged. Damn outlaws ambushed me,” he said.

I propose initiating the “Listen-Up Project” in our schools. The idea for the Listen-Up Project comes from the waning funds for music education in schools as well as the want and need for more and better music education programs. Communities and lower-income schools such as this one do not always have the funding to provide for the demand of these programs. Quality programs can have profoundly positive effects on students’ character as well as their academic achievement. This program would be a nonprofit, volunteer and donation-fueled project. While this is only a theoretical business model right now, I would like to explore making this program a reality in the future. The goal of the Listen-Up Project is to provide a safe environment that

“Sit.” I ordered while rummaging through the cabinets for the supplies I needed to examine him and as I do I hear the wax paper on the examination table crumble, indicating that he had indeed sat down without confrontation. I quickly wash my hands before grabbing two gloves and slide them on and steal a glance back at Skyler, who was gazing around the room; unease written clearly across his brooding face while he tapped his fingers on the rubber surface of the table. I look away from him, shaking my head before announcing, “You know they have pills for that.”