Young Adult
The Strangers Bench
"Oh, what a day!" a man says as he sits down on the bench, "it’s after midnight, a bit late isn't it?" The man states looking at the teen sitting next to him. Broken from her daze the girl looks at him and replies "Oh, uh yeah I just needed a minute". Without breaking the focus of packing his pipe with tobacco the man says, "I'm Gus". Watching as the almost hypnotized girl replies " Hi I'm Liz". "What brings you out at such a late hour Liz? To the park of all places" Gus asks as he laughs and lights his pipe. "I mean, your parents must be worried?" Gus continues. Liz folds her arms, looks at the ground as she uses her foot to draw in the mud and says "with how much they are fighting, I doubt they even know I'm gone. Which does not even make sense, they aren’t together anymore".
By Tyler M McGuire3 years ago in Fiction
Doomsday Deeny
The morning was cool and damp. The heat had not taken over yet. The cities where The Elite resided were temperature controlled behind their steel walls. In the villages that sprawled out across the vast expanse of dry cracked earth that covered most of the continent, they were lucky to have one water pump in town to share.
By Sara Rolsen3 years ago in Fiction
Rush
Chapter One Just Another Sunny Day "Riiiiing!" I jump out of my desk as the school day ends, nearly forgetting my bag. I make it to the hall just as it begins to fill with students eager to leave for the weekend. Maneuvering my way quickly through the throng of hoodies and letterman jackets towards the double doors: I, Myah Rush, am on a mission.
By Dominique Stedge3 years ago in Fiction
Rush
Chapter Two The new guy The next two weeks leading up to the big night merge together. Between soccer, homecoming court practice, and spirit week, it is all just chaotic. It's finally Thursday, and homecoming is tomorrow. As I walk to chemistry, my last class of the day, I begin to get the eerie feeling that someone is watching me again. Glancing over my shoulder, I see the creepy guy from the parking lot walking behind me! Here. In the hallway of my school. I take the long way around in an effort to lose him, and by the second turn he is gone. Rounding the third corner, but still looking over my shoulder, I collide face to chest with a brick wall. "Oh babe, I am so sorry!" It's my brick wall, my sweet Leo. "Are you okay Myah? What are you doing over here? Don’t you have Chem right now?"
By Dominique Stedge3 years ago in Fiction
Our Secret Hideaway
Migrants came through our little town of Baroque every day. They carried with them the burdens of the places they had left, all cities that had been charred by the spread of wildfires or the complete destruction of power grids or even the rampant threat of unseasonal blizzards. Their faces were drawn and tired, shoes becoming worn from the miles-long journeys, and the children too were laden down with whole lives crammed into backpacks and sacks.
By Jillian Spiridon3 years ago in Fiction
The World of the Golden Locket
It has been 532 days since this all started. The day was just like any other, or so that's what everyone thought, including me. At first, being only 16 at the time, the end of our world didn't seem so bad. It was freedom. Without the government telling people what you can and can't do, as a 16-year-old girl, all of that just seemed perfect. However, without rules, the new world was complete and utter chaos. Sure, people could do what they want without consequences. Unfortunately, that also meant that stealing what you wanted and fighting to obtain it was also allowed now. Murder, to survive, became a common occurrence. It didn't take long to figure that out for me, everything was a fight. Everyone was at war with everyone else.
By Brianna Payne3 years ago in Fiction
The End
The world looks different now - duller. Like one of those old world photos, the western style ones you’d get taken at a theme park and then would put in a draw for years to grow dusty as forget about it. That same coating of dust is everywhere, it saturates the surfaces of our town, thick and powdery, footprints cut through it and it almost makes me laugh. It reminds me of the first snow of the year when everyone would race outside to their gardens to leave defined footprints. Snow doesn’t fall these days. These days the world only has one setting; hot.
By Karla hardiman3 years ago in Fiction