CRASH! the window had shattered after being shoot by a gun. All of us shuddered at the sound what were we going to do. Were we going to die today?
I heard a scream not knowing where it had come from we all blindly ran away. I couldn't here anything, my vision had blurred suddenly I heard a bang. My bestfriend who was like a brother to me was shot. I could feel the tears running like waterfalls down my face but i kept running knowing my life was on the line. Whoever killed my bestfriend was going to die...
In the beginning, he tasted like rainwater: salty. Dried sweat around the rim of his mouth, a taste that clung to his mustache bristles like saltwater taffy.
In the beginning, he was rainwater, and I was a pool. Splashes hit the bottom. He said, you are a the ruin of mankind, rising to the tops of the trees. He said, you make me greedy to reach your destination like a home.
In the end, he tasted like a mountain top. Stretching high above the clouds to breathe a privileged cold. And I was a seed that could not grown on...
The wall is the place most people choose on their own. You come for a day or a week and it's never to see the sights. The sights are immaterial, and not unexpected. Temples, tea houses with dripping peremera trees hanging soot and sleek flowers over damp pollenated tables. Once thriving book shops and market warrens closed down by the proper authorities. Cab drivers who direct you round about ways and never give useful directions. None of these things are unusual, or particularly memorable. It is instead, the wall itself, that calls to you. The wall is the reason you...
We have been in the bunker for weeks now sharing a room with me and my five brothers. Its hard to imagine our life before the war, in a nice large house with lots of nice food. Its my birthday tomorrow im the youngest , im turning 5. I learnt to read and write when i was 2, i was an advanced child , my parents used to believe i was a prodigy, they tried to make me learn thing like piano and violin, things that take lots of concentration. I failed at violin but i went well with piano...
You know how people always use that metaphor of how an iceberg shows a small portion of the story, but the ice travels much deeper underneath? I was quite literally experiencing that right then. Both externally and internally. My chest was burning for air and my body was thrashing up against the coarse underneath of the ice pool. I didn't care that my eyes were stinging or the water in my mouth was gushing down my throat. What may have been a beautiful glistening lake was now a dark trench of terror. I had never known what snow was like...
Kelsey had always hated Kent. Kent was a skinny, chaste, and weak man. His skin was light and ashy, his hair not blonde but not quite brown. His teeth could have been more white. She hated the way he talked, all whispery. His voice, unreliable. His feelings, pushing up and making this more of a life.
Kelsey looked in the mirror and hated Kent so much it hurt. She hated him with sorrow. She hated him with Rage.
She decided to kill him.
She took a knife in her left hand.
She held out Kent's right hand, as if showing...
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
The droplets of drool fell like stones from the gaping monstrous mouth. Gusts of racid breathes portruded before it. Sckirrrrrrrrrrr. The earsplitting whistle of its call, feeling like nails were being dragged down a chalk board next to my ear.
More were coming. My fearful eyes could see the shadows dragging themselves along the ground.
Useless bloodied limbs, torn apart by the undergrowth hanging uselessly between their ferocious canines. Blood surrounded their snout.
They were coming. For me.
Marie Antoinette sat in the tub, eating chocolate truffles and drinking champagne. Her ruffled leggings lay in a heap on the floor. She thought as she looked out the window that she was ever the perfect Mademoiselle. She gazed out onto the misty countryside, daydreaming. Although, what could she dream about? She was living her dream. She took another bite of chocolate and smiled.
Just then, her little sister's pink range rover came trundling into the driveway, reminding her that it was 2015 and she was not in France. She would not marry her prince, because princes don't exist nowadays....
My feet ached, but it was well worth it. This is what I said when I completed that trek. The endless days and nights, the rationed food and just the stunning landscape of the mountains. I found it hard but I turned to God and prayed that I could complete this journey. I kept in mind the young children and their families. Raising money and supporting them made me so happy and feel accomplished. I would love to do this again but I wonder, could I do this again?
I stood on the old wooden bed I always slept in. There was always a window up high and I would always look up to it at noon and see the clock chime. There were so much out there waiting for me to learn. I wanted to go out there, explore the world, make real friends. But I couldn't. My name is Ginnadi Mistaikov. My anonymous parents dropped me to an orphanage when I was very young because they thought I would make a fool of them because of my skinniness and ugliness.
The matrons in the orphan always called...