Christina Shisler
Stories (3/0)
My Death, My Future
I am so exhausted. It was a very emotional, draining year. I remember May 21 as if it were five minutes ago. I sat on the cold, hard chair, waiting to hear the results from my doctor. I nervously played with the string from my purple hoodie. After what felt like a generation, Dr. Hopkins finally walked in. I watch her intently, while she went behind her desk and sat down. She raised her ice, blue eyes towards mine, and I could see the seriousness of her facial expression.
By Christina Shislerabout a year ago in Fiction
A Universe Within A Universe
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I know better though. 13 years, 2 months, and 21 days ago, I watched helplessly, as my mother got sucked into the endless abyss of a blackhole. The blackhole appeared, and in a nano-second she was gone. The life-shattering, universe vacuum disappeared within a couple seconds, but I could hear my mother's cries for help for almost a minute afterward. It sounded like she was still by my side at first, then slowly fading away into nothing.
By Christina Shisler2 years ago in Futurism