Short Story
Roots of Resilience: A Tale of Survival
Once upon a time, in a small town nestled between rolling hills and whispering forests, there lived a young man named Jack. Jack was a simple guy, content with his modest life and the comfort of routine. He had a job at the local bakery, where he spent his days kneading dough and filling the air with the aroma of freshly baked bread.
By Chevz Munandar3 years ago in Fiction
THE ROOMMATE
My roommate was a little annoying. He watches me when I'm not looking, and he never responds to any of my greetings. I have done many things to make him like me, or at least tolerate my presence in the room. I've cooked for the both of us, presented it on the small table in our room, and called him so we could eat together. He simply stared at me like I was stupìd for calling him to eat with me, and after glancing at my food in disgust, he turned on his bed, facing the sandy wall of our room as he went to sleep. I've cleaned the room, kitchen, toilet, and bathroom of our hostel ward alone, not bothering to call him to help in hopes that he would appreciate and accept me more. But after I was done cleaning, I went and sat on my bed, hoping to hear a thank you from him. He just came in, glanced around the sparkling room, and without saying any other word, he climbed onto his bed and went to sleep. hostel. That day, I knocked on the door of the room and waited. After hearing nothing from inside, I unlocked the door, and stepped inside. Immediately, I stumbled into a halt for I saw the person I would be sharing the room with, seated quietly on the bed, facing the door. "I have been knocking, I guess you didn't hear me," I said, a small smile creasing my lips as I greeted my roommate for the first time. "My name is Jason." Instead of responding to my kind greetings, he watched me intensely with a small distaste in his mouth. His bright brown eyes surveyed me up and down, and he shook his head in disapproval. I know that most people would have problems living or being friends as I looked every bit like a miscreant. My hair was dreaded, a tattoo of a winged snake ran down my right forearm, a hoop passed through the wall of my nostrils, two small rings pierced my ears, and my jeans and shirt had holes in them. I looked more like a cultist and a thief than a student. I looked very different from my roommate as he was dressed modestly as he came from a decent home. I knew that some pious fanatics like my roommate would find it strange living with someone with my lifestyle. But I wanted to make him know that my character was very different from how I was dressed, and I spent the next few days proving this by helping in the room, cleaning the floors, and greeting my roommate, but no matter what I did, he was determined not to accept me. As days passed, though, his reserved character and lack of socializing began to bother me and make me feel uncomfortable. I know that there was nothing else I could do to have him accept me, and I know that there was only one way to solve our unspoken issue. By us separating! By me leaving the room to find another hostel room. The very next day, I went down to the Warden who was in charge of assigning us rooms. "How may I help you," the cheerful Warden asked, her fingers ready to click on the keyboards of her computer. I spent the next few minutes explaining everything to her, telling her how I made my roommate uncomfortable and how he, in turn, made me feel uncomfortable. I told her that I found his cold behaviour and snubbing annoying, and I wanted to switch rooms. "Hostel room number?" asked the Warden. "Room 103!" I answered sharply. "You're joking right?" the Warden inquired, looking into the computer. "No, I'm not." I was confused. A perplexed look shrouded the Warden's face, and then she said, "Jason, your roommate hasn't checked in yet! He is yet to arrive." My heart skipped a beat... Who is the boy in my room?
By raphwrites3 years ago in Fiction
Three Rooms Down
A deep stirring in my stomach woke me earlier than I had planned. Per usual, my eyes were droopy, and my limbs weren’t feeling all too inclined to function. They clung tightly to my form, refusing to leave my side for but a second, and I stayed curled up in the spiral that I like to sleep in. My mind though, my mind was more alert than it had ever been – morning or night. Something disturbing was afoot, I could feel it in every bone of my body.
By Ajinkya Goyal3 years ago in Fiction
That’s the Way the Cookie Crumble
Theodor (Theo) McKnight was the invisible kid. When he was 16 years old, he had to be the least athletic person in Emerson High School. He could have tried his hand at basketball. But whenever he tried to dribble a ball, it didn’t even bounce. This is strange considering that all you have to do is drop the ball to make it bounce. Track was out of the question. He could run at a top speed of 2 miles per hour.
By David E. Perry3 years ago in Fiction
An Arachnid’s Phobia
It was a beautiful sunny day. The birds were chirping as they built their nest. The bees were buzzing as they molded wax into honeycombs. The flowers were so vibrant in color, their beauty can be seen for miles. Their sweet smell filled the air. The temperature was pleasantly in the mid to lower 70’s. But it had been dropping quickly over the last hour. With a change in temperature comes a change in the wind.
By David E. Perry3 years ago in Fiction
