Young Adult
The Facility
Every day was the same. Wake up, do the work in your sector, go to bed. The rules of survival were simple: Do NOT go outside. The facility was the only safe place. We had to tell them everything that was going on, including our mental state. It was my appointment soon. I wasn’t sure if I should have told them that I kept having the same recurring dream. I kept seeing the woman in my locket but I had no idea who she was. I don’t know why I wore it but there was something in the back of my mind that wouldn’t let me take it off.
By Shauna Mullen3 years ago in Fiction
The Last Light
Ravi looked around him at the devastation the earthquake left. Like a gaping wound, the earth oozed out debris and soil. His heart felt crushed, very much like the scene he found himself staring at. Why didn’t I listen? Blaming himself for not heeding any warning as many anticipated the end. He reached into his pocket and opened the heart-shaped locket. Once a pleasant token of devotion, only now to be a painful memory of what once was. How can life change so quickly? All his loved ones were gone or missing. As far as he was aware, he was the only one left behind.
By Em Schutte3 years ago in Fiction
Akiko And The Kasa-Obake
Akiko was seven years old when his Ojiisan and Obaasan (grandfather and grandmother) came from Tokyo to live with him and his parents in San Fransisco. Akiko was a rather shy child and had never met his grandparents before, so having these foreign strangers suddenly living in his home was rather difficult from the start.
By Juliette McCoy Riitters3 years ago in Fiction
Time to Leave
"Please put that down, I don't want to die because you don't know how to handle dad's old hunting knife." James looked over his shoulder, scolding his younger sister. Jenni carefully set the knife on the beat up wooden table and tried to hide her shame.
By Ember Gray3 years ago in Fiction
A New Day
Mary Ann was awakened by the sound of birds. She struggled to open her eyes. It felt as if she has been asleep for a hundred years. The clatter and squawking of the birds drove her to fight through her stupor. She had to see what made the birds carry on so. After much effort she was finally able to see that she was in her childhood room, in her childhood bed with her favorite sheets, the yellow ones with the white daisies and she had to fight the urge to just snuggle in and go back to the beautiful peaceful sleep from which she came. But those birds sounded an urgency. She had to get up. After much effort she was able to sit on the side of her bed and look around to take in her surroundings. Her posters of the Jackson 5 and Prince were on the wall. Her cheerleading megaphone was sitting in the corner with the black and gold pom poms sticking out of the mouthpiece. She smiled at the thought of the last time she used them at a pep rally and the football game later that Friday night. Mary Ann was the only black cheerleader on the squad and Captain at that. She was popular in every sense of the word. But what made her loved by all was her kind heart. She was good through and through. Her genuine goodness shown through in everything she did. People just wanted to be around her. She was funny and adventurous. She seemed to thrive on helping others. And despite the fact that she was from the one of the poorest families in a town with lots of rich white families and a few rich black families. She always rose to any occasion and stood out as a natural leader. But that all seemed so long ago. Or was it?
By Mary W Brown3 years ago in Fiction
Is this us?
It was too hot. The air was too stifling. It was just too much. Miranda sighed and kicked a piece of brick down the pile of rubble. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her gloved hand and made her way down the pile of broken building pieces. She walked around the hole in the floor, glancing down at the multiple levels below. Miranda always found that hole odd. It was like something had blown a hole straight from the roof through the center of the entire building.
By Nicki Williams 3 years ago in Fiction
The Bloodlust
Willow Graves was taken from her mother when she was ten years old during what was now known as the “separation”. It was a time when the government came in and ripped thousands of children away from their parents in an attempt to “ensure the future of the human race”. The virus had taken everything from them and now the government was taking what was left of their families. They put the children into camps based on their age range. They were guarded closely day and night. It made no difference though, the virus caused a chemical change in the human mind. It drove them mad with rage and a bloodlust that could never be satisfied. When the virus eventually found them, the children were defenseless to it and many of them died quickly. Cities had been bombed to destroy the creatures the virus had turned humans into and now many places were too radioactive for survivors to go near. The creatures still lurked, adapting mutations because of the chemicals the military had rained from the sky in an effort to kill them. They were built for this wasteland, built to hunt and rule it.
By Kristin Brewer3 years ago in Fiction
Until the End of the World
If you looked around at the trees and the sunshine, the wind blowing through the grass, you would never know that the world had fallen apart. Flowers still bloomed, birds still sang. Rabbits hopped through the fields. The planet has always been good at healing itself. It was the people that were broken. Humanity had been unable to survive the last virus. We thought we had learned, but it turned out that, with all of history to teach us, we never really learned anything.
By Rebecca Massek3 years ago in Fiction
Bothered
“Catherine, stay close.” Catherine and Eliza followed the natural pace of the crowd, the one set by museum and travel tour guides, by tourists, by art fanatics, and by students doing their assignments. The two girls were all and none of those things. They loved art, were tourists, were students, but they were not there for assignments. They were there for jobs.
By Noémi Blom3 years ago in Fiction
Kissing Her at the End of the World
The apocalypse is just something made up for shock value. I’ve seen the old-time movies where monsters rise from the sea, where alien invaders populate the skies with their ships, and where natural disasters give humanity its comeuppance at last.
By Jillian Spiridon3 years ago in Fiction