first page of my story

            

“Okay, well I’m wondering why you guys are here today even if we don’t have anything to do,” said the tall, Caucasian man who was in his 40s probably.  I already know I failed all the finals, but I’m pretty sure I still passed with a 2.  People say that I should care about my grades because it’s my last year of high school.  But to be honest I don’t give a shit really about how I do in school.

          All around the classroom I see everyone in some very low class suits, and all the girls were crying like they were some two year old babies. I wasn’t in a suit like everyone else, instead I was in a polo shirt with some beige slim jeans.  To me that’s the most formal I can get. The other guys in the class are just sitting on the their desks that are filled with vandalism and graffiti just like all the rest of the school.  From time to time some guys would come over and make me sign their yearbooks.  Which were just some cheap 50 yen books with the worst pictures of students.

          “RIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGG!”

          For once no one was excited about the end of this shit hole.  I felt kind of guilty that I was the only one who was happy about school finally being over.  So without saying anything I got up and was on my way to leave.

Dezhen Kong Short Story

On that Hot Summer Day, the One-Side Reality

It is a ridiculously hot and humid day when I was visiting my parents during the summer. The temperature goes past the hundred, the plants blinding green, the sky so clear and surreal it hurts to look up. Staying under the shelter is always the safer choice in this kind of weather. There are almost no people on the streets. Yet despite all the reason and resistance from my subconscious, I decided to head out. 

Two weeks into the summer vacation of my third year in college, I received a package from one of my high school best friends, Liam. He included a note along with the package, explaining how this bizarre surprise, or as he called it, “present from me in the past” ended up in my P.O. box. Liam went to a private university on the other side of the state and and majored in humanistic studies. He was leaving to study abroad for a year and a half in some developing country, so when he was packing he found some collection from our golden years and thought it was a good idea to send them to me.

It is not an unpleasant surprise. I am glad that he thought of me as the best candidate to guard his high school shame during his leave, though I believe the reason I am the most trustworthy guardian is because half of the collections probably contains my high school shame too. 

Though I was excited to look inside the package, I waited until I went back to my hometown to visit my parents. Liam had always been a sentimental person, he would have wanted me to look at the memories at the right place, our high school, and the right time, the day he leaves the country. So on that ridiculously hot and humid day, I thought it was a good idea to walk to our old high school in our hometown, and remember our good old days there. For sentiments’ sake.

* * *

I could never tell if our school campus was built intentionally at the place it stands. The campus is in a field that is lower than the altitude of the surrounding area, which makes it very hot and irritating in the summer; and has the worst maintained turfgrass in this county all year long, which also makes it hot and irritating. But despite these maddening characteristics, the high school has been one of the most inspiring places in my life. I got to solve my problems, make some big decisions for my future, and pick up some lifelong friendships on the way. And just like what I used to do all the time in high school, I think about the never ending sorrow of having the friends I have as I walk towards the field of brown turf grass where we used to lunch.

Once I find a good spot of shade, I sit down and vaporize myself for a few seconds before I start to open the package. It didn’t sound like the package has much stuff in it when I got it, and it doesn’t. There are some scattered pictures, a few scratches of paper, and a used up journal. I can guess what the pictures and paper scratches are, but I could not place the journal even though it looks vaguely familiar. Though I have no clue as to what the content is, it is safe to bet that the journal has scribbled poems and lyrics about love and nature all over. After all, it’s Liams. 

Like I’ve said before, Liam is a sentimental person. There are other words to describe him: emotional, optimistic, naive, “love and peace through and through”; but those are too specific for his nature. There was a phrase Liam repeated throughout high school, “we should always be together”. He kept saying it over and over again, like it’s a promise, an oath that will be kept forever if he could just say it long enough. We all teased him for being so sensitive about the future, told him to be reckless and have fun instead of thinking about what was happening next. After all, we should enjoy our last years as adolescence before starting to face all the responsibilities in adulthood.

I take out the scattered pictures and papers first. They are about the tiny ridiculous things that happened in those four years: pictures of the hiking trip we went on the summer of the second year, during which all of us got bee stings; snapshots of that disastrous homecoming spirit week senior year (though to me, all homecoming weeks were disastrous); doodles of our least aimable teachers/faculty staffs; and a ten years later family tree diagram that freshmen Liam made for our group of friends, which meme got quite popular in our school for some reason. Most of these things I don’t even remember until I see these scraps of memories, but then they all come back. No wonder Liam once had a fit not getting any support for the time capsule idea, these memories need physical forms so that we can recognize them, or else we will throw them into the dungeon of our subconscious, never seeing daylight again.

It sounds like I’m regretting about taunting his sensitivity in high school, but to be honest, I actually admired Liam for his sensitivity. True, everyone, including me, was trying to convince Liam to have real fun instead of to be bound by the future. But that was also the way we convinced ourselves that the pressure from adulthood was not yet upon us, even though that future was so near. We were cowardly in denial, trying to hold on to the last of the freedom to be ignorant, and unwilling to face responsibilities because we fear we are not ready. But Liam was able to talk about that future and that promise. I admire his courage and his clarity about life.

Moving on from the pictures and papers, I take out the journal. It begins to seem a bit odd that Liam would actually send his abundant high school collection to me. There’s no surprise that he would keep things seemingly simple for so long, but I would think that if he values them so much to keep them, he would take those memories with him, instead of sending them off to a friend whom he will not see for years. But nonetheless, I’m still glad that I hold enough value to him that he would give these things to me, probably as an insurance for our friendship. I open the journal.

Sweat is gathering on my forehead and my chest. It will soon be the hottest hour during the day.

* * *

I was right and wrong at the same time. The journal does contain poetry and song lyrics, praising love and nature, but not just for something in general, they’re for something, for someone. Yes. He wrote about the opposite sex he was attracted to in high school. That was to be expected, what’s not expected was the singular form for that noun. 

Liam had many girlfriends during his golden years. Too many for me to remember their names, too brief for me to know them, too heartbroken for me to talk to them. Liam has this incredible ability to swoon girls in and push girls out before we even realized his status has changed. Sometimes I feel guilty for befriending this guy because I got to know him for being friends with his first ex-girlfriend. That went really well. But in any case, what I’m trying to say is, it’s really hard to believe that he was utterly in love with somebody all that time.

It is someone we both know and love as a dear friend. The writing is incredibly cheesy at the beginning that I could not continue without laughing and covering my face constantly in shame of reading about my friend from such a perspective and of knowing the person who regards her in such a perspective. After quickly skimming the first ten or so pages, the writing becomes bearable. The entries became more philosophical, more about how and why humans are in destined to attract others and be attracted to others. He created almost an alternate reality, a world all about the connection between two people. No one else is mentioned besides him and her. 

The journal entries were all dated within days of each other. I can see the evolution of his affection for her slowly mature over the course of four years. At the beginning his remarks were passionate; then it became more in depth and thoughtful, though all the same bits of silliness; and at the end, he only wrote with genuine affection, passion buried deep inside. There is no more talk of mutual fondness and destiny for each other, but just general details about her life, his life, and our lives. 

The last entry was on the day of graduation. It is brief with congrats and gratitude for her and his old talk of future. Pages after that are blank. I close the journal, only to find a note scribbled on the back of it. 

She has left. I must move on too.
I can’t hold on to this anymore. It is at your disposal.
Thanks for everything,
--Liam

* * *

I was completely and utterly wrong about him.

Liam was not gifting his memories to me, he was disposing them.

He was not brave to mutter his promise to “always be together”, he was just as cowardly as the rest of us. His hope for the future was only to disguise his passion. When the passion ended, he selfishly pulled himself out of the bright bubble he created and bursted it for his own good.

I want to call him. I demand to know why he would betray that sentimental poetic image of himself, the image that I admired for years. Liam created this ideal future so that he could live in it with his delusional love, yet he did not know nor consider the fact that he got my hopes up. Now that Liam could not live in his little world anymore because she has left, he abruptly stops the dream and leaves. He chose to abandon me along with his lies and hypocrisy just because he can’t handle the empty dream he built.

But I stop dialing.

It is nearly sunset. I pick up the pictures and papers, close the package, and slowly walk back across the empty brown turfgrass field. My mind is empty, yet I continue walking, alone.

Short Story (page 1)

I walked out and just started walking. To Where? I had no clue, nor did I care. The only audible sound to my ears was the thundering of raindrops dropping one by one on to the pavement. Everything else just seemed a blur. Meandering along the sidewalk, I dragged my feet. I kept walking until my soaked sweater and jeans weighed me down to the point I had lost all energy. I don’t know how long I had been walking- half an hour? Maybe even several hours. My mind was completely blank, unlike a little while ago, when my mind was so overcrowded with thoughts and emotions I felt as if it were about to burst open any second. 

Page 1

It has been countless years since the human race had any sense of direction, or purpose. Technology grants people immortality, machines grant people time by doing all labor. Everyone knows everything there is to know about the the universe, and so people just live, with no substantial goals to strive for. Additionally, humans have been around for so long that any history of a beginning has been long lost. However, one person, Cain Edwards, sets out to discover more about the past.

“Hey Cordell, I’ve been thinking,” mused Cain during a game of chess. “ How long do you think you’ve been around?”

“Ehh, I’d say a couple millennia. Why?” replied Cordell.

“I was just wondering if there was any one planet from where we all came from? The more I think about it, I feel like humans had to have some sort of starting point, or beginning. Check”

“Damn. Where humans came from?” asked Cordell.

“Yea, I’ve been wondering about this recently, and I’ve concluded that we, as a whole, originated from one planet, and gradually spread out.” said Cain.
“That’s an interesting idea. I’ll do some research in The Database.” Cordell promised. Cain makes one last move, and its checkmate.

Leaning back in my chair with my feet up, I wait leasurely for first period to start. Normally most teachers would’ve spouted safety regulations and rules at me for being a potential hazard, but they leave me in peace.

Looking up at the clock, seeing that there is about 10 minutes before the bell rings, I hear the footsteps of the first student entering the class. Turning around to see who entered, I see the classroom door ajar, but no one entering. 

(not done...)

Short Story Page 1

The silent echo of raindrops beating against the cold cement seemed distant.  Everyone uniformly stood underneath their black umbrellas in silence with their heads down.  Scarlett, with her eyebrows furrowed, stood amongst the sea of black.  She helplessly wondered why this was being ignored, cast aside as if it never existed.  Jacob was now another headline for the local news, and soon, his story would be tossed in the archives. “I still can’t believe he’s gone,” she thought,.

“Any news on those Ivy’s?”
“No dad, not yet”
“Jacob, you know how much we’re expecting from you, right? You can do this, our dreams can finally come true” Jacob squirmed in his seat and hesitatingly looked away, nodding.  He understood what his dad was saying and he knew how crucial his college admission was. He sometimes wished that he wasn’t so smart. Everything he did was mostly to make his parents happy. He didn’t think his parents realized how hard he had worked to make them proud. He just wished his parents wouldn’t be so hard on him cause he was already so stressed out.
 

Everyday seem to drag by. He couldn’t sleep or eat. He NEEDED to get into this school. It felt like weeks had gone by, till finally, a letter from Columbia University arrived in the mail. As he slowly opend the envelope and looked at the letter, he read out loud, “Dear Mr. Jacob Gooding, we are pleased to congratulate you on your acceptance to Columbia University! We proud to call you a Columbia Lion Class of 2032!”

After a long, fun summer it was finally time to pack all of his belongings, and head out to college. When he first arrived on the campus, all he could see were extremely, old buildings, surrounded by big lights.

Shreynah's Short Story Page one:

As the car sped up the mountain road, Kaylyn stopped for a stretch. Kaylyn, a student enrolled at Yale University is intelligent, beautiful and a sweet-heart. She stepped out of Bentley, her red Jeep. As she stood on the tip of the cliff, she felt like she was on top of the world. She paced back and forth cautiously, every now and then, memories flashed into her mind like the images of cars racing by. This girl has the brain of Einstein but a heart of puzzle pieces. The feelings she has in her heart are uncertain and possibly unsolved.  One particularly appealing piece of memory caught her attention. Thinking back upon the olden days, Austin, one of Kaylyn’s closest friends from UC Davis came into mind. The thought of Austin sent butterflies storming through her stomach. Austin, a smart, generous, and quite handsome young man had been friends with Kaylyn for as long as they could remember. Words could not describe the feelings Kaylyn had for Austin,even Kaylyn herself was too unpredictable to understand.

Short Story Page One

The girl rose early and slowly, shoulders slumping forward as she rubbed the sleep from her damp eyes. She shed the comforter from her aching form, her bare feet padding against the cool linoleum of the floor as she grabbed her room key before closing the door quietly behind her.

The dorm was uncharacteristically quiet, its morning face expressionless and cool and only just starting to host a light that swelled dishearteningly gray and repentant. The girl flicked the flickering bathroom light on and dampened cold hands under the faucet, splashing water on her face. Her movements were languid and almost dreamlike, wracked with a somewhat jerky quality, and a resistance was omnipresent. Forcefully refusing to meet her gaze, she positioned herself away and returned to her room. Her search was not the slightest bit harried, and she retrieved thickly bound score after score before placing the mass gingerly on her bed. The CD's were already in a neat stack next to her laptop.

She paused by the window, tracing vague patterns across the cold glass before hastily wiping away the obstructing condensation that blanketed the window between battered frames. The outerworld space was flooded with snow extending for as far as she could see. She moved grudgingly as she hid from the tumultuous world, slipping into an aged coat of warmth and shielding her eyes of her indulgences. She chose the first disc she saw, perched rigidly atop the pile. She recognized the familiar boxy writing and lifted it with stiff, shaking fingers. She slid the disc into the computer, giving in to her barriers. The beginning overcame her at once, and she let the ghosts curl through.

Proposal for short story

Exposition:
My story takes place in Aichi, Japan.  Where a typical high school student just got of school for the summer.  His name is Mikey and he is a chill guy.  He was born into a very rich family, where both his parents are lawyers.  He is a part time marijuana dealer.  His parents think he will end up being on the streets.  He wants to prove them wrong, but he doesn't know how to.

Inciting incident:
One Day Mikey is chilling with his good friends in the cuts.  While they were smoking, Mikey's dealer suddenly appears.  His name is Ken Taro and the biggest badass in Japan.  He tells him that he is low on stock this month and he has to pay double.  Mikey argues with him telling him, he's being ridiculous.  Ken Taro not being a patient person busts his samurai sword and cuts Mikey's friend's head off.  Mikey being scared tells Ken Taro that he will pay him double.

Rising Action:
So Mikey had to get serious about his problem.  So he sees this giant African and asks him if he wants weed.  The African dude said he would trade him 2 grams of weed for  2 grams of opium.  Mikey being stoned wasn't thinking straight so he agreed.  The African looked very happy and tells that he has to smoke it right now.  Mike told him no.  The African guys pulls out a spear and threatens him.  Mikey pulls out his chopsticks.  The African guy, Zoholo, laughs at him and cuts his chopsticks.  Mikey being scared decided to smoke the opium.  He gets super high and start to hallucinate.  He thinks he is giant rice ball fight and starts throwing rocks.  One of the rocks hit someone.

Climax:
The rock hits Chris Stink, and everyone says he's a hero.  Chris Stink was a criminal who would talk too much and rob people.  She was the number one wanted criminal in all of Japan. Mikey still being hella high ran away. After running he meets with his brother, Ren, he learns that his mom just had an heart attack and he needs him to go to the hospital with him.

Falling Action:
He gets to the hospital, but he doesn't see his mom there.  His brother told him that their mom has died.  Mikey starts cursing in to himself and yells that he would do anything for her to come back.  His brother tells him that he should do good in school and that would make mom really proud.

Conculsion
So Mickey decides to change his attitude and start to study over the summer for school.  He stopped dealing and smoked all of his weed.  He had forgotten about the deal with Ken Taro. Then one day while Mikey was walking to the store for some food, a mysterious car rolls up and out of the car a samurai sword cuts Mikey's head off.

Michelle first page of short story

The sun is just peeking out from behind the clouds and shines its beautiful golden rays through the windows of Carson’s brownstone in Brooklyn, New York. He rolls over in bed, blinks the sleep out of his eyes and squints at his alarm clock. It reads 6:15 am. By 6:20 he is in the kitchen with half a bagel in the toaster and a pot of coffee brewing away. BING, his bagel pops out of the toaster, toasted just long enough to become crisp enough that it will maintain its crispiness under a thick layer of fluffy cream cheese. He settles down in his favorite chair with his piping hot cup of coffee in one hand and his perfectly toasted bagel in the other. The familiar voice of Charlie Rose, CBS morning news anchor, fills the room. The police are on the search for a man who has been going around all over New York City stealing everything in sight. From a pack of gum from Safeway to a Porsche from the dealership, this “man” is a master but upon review of the security tapes, only appears as an outline of a person. This mystery has yet to be solved and the answer is lying within someone roaming the streets of New York. Carson had to overpower that little devil inside his head telling him that he could stay and watch the rest of the news story because he had never been late to work before and it was too nice of a day to get in trouble with his boss. At precisely 6:40 he was out the door and heading down the steps on his way to the subway station. From 2 years of living in Brooklyn, he mapped out the shortest path to the subway station and calculated exactly when he needed to leave in order to walk the nine blocks from his house to the subway station to catch the 6:55 train into the city. As he walked down the street in the crisp morning air, the sun greeting him with open arms, warming him with each step he took. When he got to the corner he noticed something was missing. Something that completes him; something that every single thing on the planet has. It walks when you walk, it sleeps when you sleep and it eats when you eat.  His curiosity was quickly wiped from his mind as he entered the subway station and saw his train coming to a stop. Sweat dripped from his brow as he began a mad dash for the train, squeezing between the doors just as they slammed shut. 

Short Story page 1

Liverpool can be a lonely place on a Saturday night, and no one knows that better than 

Dick Parkin. Dick is a sad looking scouse man from south Liverpool, England. And although he wouldn’t openly admit to being an alcoholic, he’s definitely on his way to the local pub right now. Drinking is the only enjoyable activity Dick has discovered in England since his birth 20 years ago. He couldn’t stand the horrible weather of the UK. The sun only poked out from behind the clouds three times a year and more often than not he was too sick to enjoy it. He was always sick, ever since he was a child he was bedridden fifty percent of the time. His illnesses caused a lot of difficulties in his life including his dropping out of school at age fourteen. It also affected him physically. It stunted his growth to mere five feet and eight inches and also made him very weak and feeble. Those long days at home away from school while his mum was away was when he got into beer and whisky. Alcohol became his best friend early on in his life, it was the friend you’d go to when you wanted to forget all of your stresses. And right now, Dick could really use some stress relief. 

He’s not the best mechanic’s assistant and he doesn’t make that much money doing it 

either, so when his mum kicked him out of the house a while back he was always short on 

money. That was until he joined the Quarrymen. Dick wouldn’t consider the Quarrymen to be a gang, although that’s what people label them as, but rather a social club for deprived young men. A social club that nearly owns all of Southern Liverpool and is in constant trouble with the police. 

Lately, however, the Quarrymen haven’t been making the profit they usually do. Maybe 

they stopped conning as often as they used to or maybe people haven’t paid them their debts but whatever it is it’s making Dick late on his rent. That’s what is making Dick stress, and that’s why he’s heading to a pub on a saturday night when he should be at home asleep. 

Dick approached the pub rattling the few coins he had in his pocket. It wasn’t enough 

for what he wanted, but the owner knew him so he hoped for a discount. He approached the 

building and made a sharp turn through the doors. He made his way past the other saturday 

night drinkers and found his way to a bar stool in the corner where a small group of young men 

sat. 

“Hullo lads!” The boys turned around to greet the deep voice that called onto them. 

“Hey Dick!” The men hollered, grabbing the poor man and squishing him in the middle of 

the group. They all said their hellos and updated him on the current events of their lives. Once they had settled down and all gotten their drinks, one of them got all of their attention. 

“Excuse me lads!” Spoke a young man named James. He waved his hand a little and 

the men silenced and turned towards him. It was a wonder how one person could attract the 

attention of a group of rowdy boys with such ease, but the task seemed like second nature to 

him, and with good reason too. James was the leader of the Quarrymen, although he did not 

create the gang. That title was for Juan Garcín, a spaniard who moved to England a few years back, although he’s content with letting someone else do the dirty work for him. James on the other hand was from london and had a better education then the rest of the boys. 

“I know we came here to have fun and enjoy ourselves-” James was cut off by the 

clamorous groaning that came from the group. “Let me finish now! This is important. It has come to my attention that we have been losing profits.” The others agreed and nodded their heads. “I think I know why. See I’ve been noticing the cops have been moving north lately. So I decided to go check out what’s goin’ on down there. Turns out there’s some bloody gits down there that think they own the place. Call themselves the Prophets!” 

“Yer kidding me!” The lads screeched and scattered looks about each other. 

“This‘s rubbish, Liverpool is our city and those gits carn’t come in here and take over 

like that!” Harry, the youngest of the boys declared rising to his feet and slamming his fist to 

the table. “We ought ta do sumthing!” His accent was thick and almost sounded scottish. His 

face appeared older than he was. His cheekbones were sharp and his eyes were sharper. His eyebrows were bushy and at a permanent angle to where a scowl was always on his face. 

James placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “That’s why I called this get together here. 

See I have a plan!” The other boys leaned in close to James to hear. 

Short Story, Page 1

Everything began on that early morning.

Just like every year, 15-years old Alexis and her parents spends the summer at their family beach house.

A silver Honda Civic pulls up in front of a white beach house. The back door opens to reveal Alexis, a black-haired teenage girl. Alexis steps out of the car with a large Speedo duffel bag slung over her shoulder and waits for her parents to make their way over to the trunk to get the rest of their luggage. After unloading everything, Alexis goes to her room and settles down. Her room has a clear view of the blue ocean and of the room of the house next door.

Her nice Saturday morning begins with waking up to some strange noises outside her window. She pulls the covers over her head in attempt to block out the noise. When that failed to solve her problem, she groggily drags herself over to the window.

“How noisy,” Alexis complains under her breath.

“Isn’t the sea beautiful?” A stranger’s voice reaches her ears. Alexis turns her head towards the house next door, only to find a boy her age leaning against the window pane and smiling pleasantly at her. Alexis observes him for a moment, taking in his dark brown hair, his hazel brown eyes, and his athlete built.

“Hi!” He extends his hand across the small gap between the two houses and shakes her hand.

“Wha…what was that noise?” Alexis questions him, shocked by his forwardness. He points to something below her and she looks down. The ground is littered with seashells, all shaped and colored differently and in a pile outside her window. She leans down to pick a heart shaped seashell from the collection.

“A gift for the new neighbor!” The strange boy says with a cheeky smile plastered on his face, “isn’t it pretty? I spend the whole night looking for them. You can wear that one as a necklace; it would look nice on you.”

Alexis tears her gaze from the seashells and glances at the boy, “how did you find these? Every time I look for seashells they are never in strange shapes like these?” She stares at the dolphin shaped seashell necklace hanging around his neck.

“You mean this one?” He tugs at the dolphin necklace, “this one’s custom made, I really like dolphins!” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he notices the longing look that she has on the necklace. With a smile, he reaches behind his neck, undid the clasp, and places it in Alexis’ hands, “for you, since you seem to like it so much.” Getting over the initial shock of how generous this boy is, Alexis remembers that she still doesn’t know his name,

“You still haven’t introduced yourself yet,” she prompts.

“Oh, my name’s Jason, you?”

“Alexis.”

“Nice you meet you, Alexis,” once again Jason reaches over to shake her hand.

It was this strange morning that Alexis met a boy named Jason.

[1] Short Story

During the summer, when the heat became unbearable, Bo and I would sit under the shade of the Tilia trees, sucking absentmindedly on ice cubes and whistling at the girls who walked by, laughing as sweat poured down our backs. Those days were filled with the simplicity of adolescence: we pushed each other in lakes, chased each other until we collapsed, and dated more girls that we could count. There was hardly a time when we were not together, and prosperity filled the air; Father was bold in his career, and Ma smiled while making lemonade and bread. Days moved by quickly, blurring together into a bundle of happiness that seemed never-ending. It was impossible to imagine anything different; we lived in the most powerful empire in the world, and we were of a superior race.

Bo, though barely passing school, was always naturally fun and still had his interesting sense of humor. Father said that he would rely on me to make the money for the family when I was older, and I didn’t mind. For once, it was nice to be ahead of Bowen in some way, when everything seemed to come so naturally to him without having to fight for it. There was an aura of magnetism that followed him where he went; while I normally struggled to maintain a simple conversation, Bo would make people fall in love with him in five minutes; he was eccentric, genuinely loving, and fascinating. 

The first time I felt equal to my brother was when I was seventeen; he was only fifteen, and Father had gotten a chemistry tutor for the both of us. The equations naturally made sense to me, and watching Bo finally struggle gave me a strange sense of accomplishment. One day, when he hadn’t shown up to tutoring, I found him afterwards curled up deep in the grove behind our house, looking remarkably small compared to the tree that towered over him. For the first time in Bo’s life, he looked insignificant compared to another. 

“It doesn’t make sense,” he said softly, voice cracking. “How can Dad scold me for not getting this easily, like you can?”

 I couldn’t say anything, and instead I ran down to the corner store and paid for popsicles with the only five Pfennig that Father had given me in two years. Though nothing else was communicated between us, the competitive air I felt around Bo had vanished. That was the year when I learned that it was impossible for anybody to be perfect. No matter how incredible someone seemed, there would always be one thing that they struggled with, whether it be prominent in their life or not. I realized that that was made us so, irrevocably human beyond any means. 

When the Kaiser had declared war on Russia, Father insisted we join the army. Bo and I were filled with patriotism as we both applied for jobs at chemists at a factory in Kiel, by the sea. It was a time of excitement for us both; our conversations were filled with increased vigor and gaiety.

Cat's Short Story Page 1

Grandfather Clock

By: Cat Supawit

Dust danced in the meager light that shone through the one broken window of Argus’ Little-Corner Antique Shop. The rays bounced and cascaded along the old furniture of the store. It was a sight to behold at any given time, but as soon as the creaking Grandfather clock struck twelve, every single ray of light seemed to point at a simple wooden stand, as if practicing for a show that may never happen. But it did begin, on the day when a crystal bowl was left outside the shop.

I was the sole owner and only worker at the Antique Shop, so I could open up whenever I felt like it. The morning I found the bowl, was like any other morning; I got up, went to the corner cafe with the pretty waitress, and then opened up shop 2 hours later than the hour sign said on the door. Honestly, I almost stepped on the bowl before I noticed it was there. It was an old thing. Scratched up and dull, probably not worth anything at all. Maybe that was why the bowl’s owner had just left it there, they knew I wouldn't buy it from them. I picked it up and stared at my reflection as I walked into the shop; Curly brown hair, hazel eyes, that jagged scar on my left eyebrow from a game of tag gone wrong. The sight almost depressed me. I was such an average-Joe, with a basic high school education and a Psychology degree that I never did anything with. The only memorable thing about me was the fact that I owned the only antique shop in town. My dad had named the store after me, so I suppose it was only right for me to inherit it, not to mention the debt.

Megan Dong one page short story

The year is 2056. The summer, humid breeze sweeps through the palm trees scattering bits of dirt to the sand. The glistening ocean sways with the hungry red, orange and blue fishes, the rough hard-shelled tortoises and the prickly golden blowfishes. Rebecca Viviano, an eighteen year old Italian with brown wavy hair and green eyes, laid her body against her little mermaid beach towel watching kids splash in the cooling water. She left the stress of work and tempered boyfriend behind to relax her mind.

An hour of tanning, she decided it was time to go surfing. She went to the parking lot, grabbed her burgundy-customized board from her Jeep and straddled toward the 75-foot waves. Caucasian, stringy-haired and tan guys, brunette, tall and skilled teenage girls jumped into the water eager to ride the biggest wave they can. Rebecca placed her belongings on the sand, took off her white slouchy shirt, and exposed the Hawaiian flowered bikini.  She slipped into the silky liquid, getting chills that ran up her legs to her lengthy arms. She hasn’t surf since last summer and she already feels rusty.

As Rebecca was waiting for the perfect wave she sees a grey object eroding from the water. She decided it was nothing since all the years she’s been surfing she’d never seen anything bigger than a dolphin. She sees other surfers and hurried to catch a wave to show them what she is capable of. She paddles toward the beach being chased by a roaring wave and by repetition, lifted her body to stand up. Her bare feet clenched onto the board and she easily maneuvered it. Her excellent peripheral vision allowed her to take a glimpse of people watching her with curiosity. The wave finally caught up with her and she effortlessly carved out the barrel; she turned back to see faces in awe. A few hours in the sun began to exhaust her and she soon paddled toward the beach. She caught a glimpse of the same grey object from before but this time only 20 feet away. She paddles the opposite direction her heart racing a little bit faster. Up, down, up, down, the indecisive object followed her. 15 feet, 10, 8, 4.

Short Story Page 1

BOLTS

   There’s a one in a million chance that you will be struck by lightning. Who knew i would be that one.
  “BEEP BEEP BEEP”, my alarm goes off every morning at exactly 6 am, I get up and take a shower, get dressed, do my hair and makeup. Then I go downstairs to eat breakfast and drive to school. The streets of San Francisco are always busy and crowded, but for some reason there was so much traffic I was sure I was going to be late to first period. I ended up taking the long way knowing i would be at least 10 minutes late. As i ran into my english class i heard the substitute teacher say my name; “Holly? Holly Kane? Does anyone know if Holly is at school today?”. When i got through the door i yelled “HERE!”, then walked over to my seat. My friends turned around to see how embarrassed i was, giggled, and turned back towards the front of the class.
  When i got out of school it felt like I had been I had been there for days. “Holly!”, my friend Riley said as she walked over, “Come get ice cream with Chelsea and I!”. I really wanted to go but i knew i had to try and get my grades up before summer came around so i replied, “Sorry i can’t, i have a ton of homework and studying to do.” She made a disappointed face and said “Fine but next time I’m making you come with us haha”, then walked back over to her car.
  I got home and did all my homework that needed to be done, which took me a good 4 hours to finish. It was almost getting dark and i was so stressed that i decided to take a jog to relax and get my mind straight. I was jogging around the neighborhood and nobody was out. I didn’t think anything of it cause i live in a relatively quiet area. I kept running and i didnt keep track of time or how far i was going until i reached the top of a hill to rest.

short story page one!

    “Hannah hurry up you're going to be late for school!” screams Janet (Hannah’s mom). “Okay give me a sec,i'm almost ready.” says hannah. Hannah’s upstairs packing her soccer bag for today's practice and is walking out the door. *sighs* “keys” hannahs mumbles to herself then runs back upstairs. “HANNAH” shouts Janet “i'm coming,i’m coming!” says Hannah. “okay ready” “Oh Hannah this letter came in the mail this morning it's from UCLA!!” says Janet. Hannah looks very scared because this is the college of her dreams! “ah! okay hand it over” hannah begins reading. Dear Ms.Jackson we are pleased to inform you that we reviewed your application and.. “WELL WHAT DOES IT SAY” Janet screams before hannah is even done reading. “I got in!!”she screams overly excited. “Congratulations! you earned its”says Janet. “thanks mom gotta go i'm going to be late”. “Okay we will celebrate later”
   Hannah pulls up to school so excited and can’t wait to share the great news,but then the bell rings and now hannah is late to class. “shit.” Hannahs tries to sneak to class but fails miserably. “Ms.jackson you're late” says hers 1st period history teacher “sorry it won't happen again”. “psssst Sabrina guess what!” whispers hannah “what!?” whispers Sabrina but Mr.Eldmen kind of hears her. “ I got accepted to UCLA on a full scholarship!” “thats so amazing dude we have to celebrate soon!” sabrina whispers. “hey how about this friday night?,there's a big end of the year party at stephanies and we HAVE to go”. “this friday?hm i don’t know i have a really important soccer game the next day” Hannah explains. “Common this is the last big party there will be plenty of other soccer games!” sabrina starts to get a little louder. “but this game is really important i don't think..” SSHHH Mr.Eldmen shouts. Hannah’s voice gets much quieter “i don’t think i can go my future coaches might be there”. “dude come on we won’t be there that...” “Hmm Ms.sabrina you to seem to be often chatty how about you read the next page” says Mr.Eldmen.” i’ll talk to you after class hannah” whispers Sabrina.

An Endless War

Brandon Yee
5/18/12
English 2
Mason 6th

An Endless War

 “You’re not gonna see your family for awhile.”

             “Yeah, I know.  How long did it take you to get used to it?”
             “Never, once I joined, I realized I was gonna be here for the rest of my life.”
             It was a stormy day in the city of the Sco. Not a single building was standing still.  Broken glass and wrecked cars occupied the streets.  The time read 2300 hours.  It was time to bounce back to camp.  Roddy and Trademark left their posts and slowly wobbled back towards Westfield.  Not a single enemy had been spotted the whole day.  Roddy looked at Trademark and said, “How you feeling?”
            “I’m doing aite.  Shit isn’t too bad when you ain’t seen a single guy wit a gun the whole day,” Trademark pulls out a cigarette.
            “Yeh, I feel it.  Just you wait, days are gonna get crazy in a quick minute,” Roddy replies.  “Let’s get some sleep.”
            They quickly settled into a former Vans Outlet on the third floor of Westfield.  Roddy, extremely exhausted, falls asleep in an instant.  Trademark, on the other hand, has trouble falling asleep.  He looks at the dirty picture within his wallet. It portrays his family, all happy and smiling together.  Trademark grips it tightly and slowly dozes off.
            The next morning, the sound of gunfire and explosion awakes Trademark.  Quickly getting to his feet, he looks around the room and tries to find Roddy.  He’s nowhere in sight.  Trademark, fumbling his gear, goes outside the mall to his post and sees Roddy prone out behind a sandbag.  “What the hell is going on?!”

            “Things are getting hazy, they’re coming.” Roddy replies.

            “Oh shit. How many of ‘em?”

            “Just shoot whoever the hell you see.”

            Trademark, rifle at hand, looks out into the foggy city of the Sco.  His vision is usually perfect, but everything was a blur.  He wipes his eyes, nervously, and waits. 

           

           

Dezhen Kong Short Story Page one

It was a ridiculously hot and humid day sometime during the summer when I was visiting my parents. The temperature went past the hundred, the plants blinding green, the sky so clear and surreal it hurt to look up. Staying under the shelter was always the safer choice in this kind of weather. There were almost no people on the streets. Yet despite all the reason and resistance from my subconscious, I decided to head out.

Two weeks into the summer vacation of my third year in college, I received a package from one of my high school best friends, Liam. He sent the package along with a note, explaining how this bizarre surprise, or as he called it, “present from me in the past” ended up in my P.O. box. Liam went to a private university on the other side of the state and and majored in humanistic studies. He was leaving to study abroad for a year and a half in some developing country, so when he was packing he found some collection from our golden years and thought it was a good idea to send them to me. 

It was not an unpleasant surprise. I was glad that he thought of me as the best candidate to guard his high school shame during his leave, though I believed the reason I was the most trustworthy guardian was because half of the collections probably contained my high school shame too. 

I was excited to look inside the package, but I waited until I went back to my hometown to visit my parents that same summer. Liam had always been a sentimental person, he would have wanted me to look at the memories, from one fifth of our whole life span then, at the right place and the right time. So on that ridiculously hot and humid day, I thought it was a good idea to walk to our old high school in our hometown, and remember our good old days there. For sentiments’ sake.

Sydney's Short Story Proposal

Exposition: The story takes place in Liverpool, England in 1957 and follows two gangs of young teddy boys.  Dick, a 20 year old scouse man, is a lonely soul-searcher who thrives on the adrenaline rushes of gang life. He’s part of The Quarrymen, a gang that dominates the streets of Southern Liverpool who, over the decades, have formed a rivalry with a gang from Northern Liverpool called the Prophets. 

Inciting Incident: Dick leads a very unfulfilled life and feels that the gang thinks of him as 

the “soft one” and take him for granted. When the rest of the gang form plans to infiltrate The 

Prophets, Dick sees this as an opportunity to prove himself. He plans to pretend to join their 

side and gain their trust. 

Rising Action: Dick successfully becomes a part of the other gang to produce information 

his own gang can use against them, however things start to go awry when Regina, Brain’s 

girlfriend, starts spending more time hanging around the gang. Regina and Dick secretly 

become romantically involved with each other. As their relationship grows, Dick opens up to 

Regina and tells her the truth about his origins. She tries to get him to join the Prophets, but he stands by The Quarrymen.  

Climax: Brian, sensing something is wrong, confronts Regina as to why she has been acting so strange lately. They engage in a heated argument and, Regina, in a moment of passion, reveals the truth about her and Dick. This sends Brian into a fit of rage. He seeks Dick out on the streets of Liverpool armed with a knife. When he finds Dick drunk outside a bar, he stabs and murders him in the back alleyway. 

Falling Action: Brian doesn't return to Regina to tell her what he’s done and instead calls her 

home to break up with her. She seems unhappy with the news, but sees it as a way for her to 

be with Dick. However after a week of Dick not showing up she travels to Southern Liverpool to see if she can find him. There she meets up with Harry who tells her that they found his body a few days ago.  

Resolution: Horrified by the news she runs to a pay phone to confront Brian to see if he knew 

anything about it. He admits to the murder and Regina hangs up on him. Completely distraught, she finds herself back at home with a gun, contemplating suicide. She feels responsible for Dick’s murder and feels she deserves to be punished for it. She eventually takes her own life. However, with the death of the two lovers only creates more tension between the two rival gangs. 

(note: this story is intended to parody the Romeo and Juliet archetype)

Alex Oyle's short story proposal

Exposition:   Three friends are going on vacation to Bogota, Columbia for a few months.  They are all avid hikers and outdoors man and are planning to spend a month camping and exploring in the Colombian wilderness.  After they are done camping they plan to stay with a friend of theirs in Bogota.  




Inciting incident:  As the three friends start their adventure into the jungle they have a strange feeling that they are being watched.  Once they get deeper into the jungle they forget there fears and start having the time of their lives exploring caves and taking photos of exotic animals.  One day they decide to explore a cave they found the day before.  When they get into the cave there is a terrible smell and they find a human corpse that had been beaten and shot.  One of them recognizes the face and it belongs to a hiker that had gone into the jungle a few months before but had never returned home.




Rising Action:  One night they hear rustling from outside their tents and they decide to check it out.  They look around for a little bit but find nothing, as they walk back towards their campsite 8 men armed with guns jump out from the shadows and surround the boys.  They men are yelling in Colombian and then one of them steps towards the boys and hits one of them with the butt of his rifle.  Before the other two can react to other men hit them and all three of them are tied up and put in a jeep.




Climax:  They are taken to a hidden cave deep in the jungle.  They are put in a make shift jail cell made of steel bars carved into a nook of the cave.  They wake up to dim candle light and two guards sitting a few feet away.  they figure out a plan to escape and after a few weeks of planning they manage to escape but now they are stranded in the jungle with no supplies or idea where they are.




Falling Action:  They start walking in the direction of Bogota.  After a few weeks of traveling they stumble upon their old campsite and find a few survival materials they left behind.  After a few days after they were supposed to arrive at their friends house he went to the police and they sent out a search team to find the boys.


Resolution:  The search party reaches the old campsite and are disappointed about not finding the boys but they find the boys left them a message giving them the direction they were traveling and they were soon located.

Crime Scene 


Exposition: As the car sped up the mountain road, Kalin stopped for a breather after a long ride. She stepped out of Bently, her red Jeep. As she stood on the tip of the cliff, she felt like she was on top of the world. But after a little while, a chill ran down her spine.  


Inciting incident & Rising action: The sight of the view was just fascinating. The breeze of the ocean ran through Kalin's hair like a soft, delicate brush combing through her thick dirty blonde hair. The wind brushed against her warm, caramel colored skin. Standing there with a jolly feeling, she absorbed the insightful landscape . With the last deep breath of the freshness, a mysterious smell ran up her nose, tickling her nose hair. Kalin pinched her nose over and over making sure she was okay and not have the feeling that she was just hallucinated. The mist of the ocean water threw a full force of the musty smell at her. Taking miniature steps, Kalin sniffed her way around the unsettled trees that were swaying furiously back and forth. 


Climax: The smell grew stronger, as Kalin's heart pounded against her chest. Her heart dropped to her butt, as she came to the sight of a dead body below the cliff she was standing on. Kalin, motionless was unable to move a finger. She could feel her scalp becoming dry, her face was white as the shining, clear sky, and she had goosebumps all over her body. Kalin's eyes enlarged like an owl under the moonlight. 


Falling Action: Kalin started panicking, while slowly trying to find her balance. She wobbled to Bently to grab her phone. As she dialed 911, her fingers felt as though they were going to break. 
" 911, what's your emergency?"
" Please help me, I've discovered a dead body." Kalin spoke, grasping for air.  


Resolution: Dodge's standard rear-wheel-drive police Charger pulled up behind Bently, Kalin stepped out of her car still sick from what she had seen. The CSI police did what they had to do, examined the body and then took the body away.


Denouement: Months later, Kalin received a phone call from one of the CSI police verifying the dead body had belonged to a college student of Davis named Albert. The story behind the dead body was said to be that, Albert had driven up the mountain with a couple of friends to kick it on the cliff. How Albert died? the police made a theological prediction stating that he was pushed off the cliff by one of his drunk friends.