Young Adult
The Girl On the Bluff
She awoke to the sound of waves crashing against the jagged rocks. Her eyes fluttered open and a smile stretched slowly across her face. She sat up and glanced at the clock that hung on her wall. It was just about to be five in the morning. Her family would not be getting up for another two hours or so. It was late August and the morning air chilled her bare arms. Goose bumps prickled up her skin as the wind danced through her open windows. She stood up to close them but stopped when she saw how beautiful the morning was.
By Sophia Makarenko 5 years ago in Fiction
Ollie's World
Ollie wondered if every other boy his age counted their footfalls as they walked home after school. Or any other boy his age for that matter. He wondered how many times he had walked that same street day after day, year after year and how many more times he would have yet to count the 3,562 steps that separated his house from the bus stop. Despite being a newly 13 year old boy, Ollie had a complete disinterest in high-tech or “smart” gadgets like phones or tablets. Sure, he had seen videos on the phones of classmates - typically from over their shoulder, in secret - but he truly couldn’t understand how someone could handle owning such a raw source of enormous, terrifying stimulation like that of a cell phone, let alone become so hopelessly dependent upon it.
By Reed Mcabre5 years ago in Fiction
Life In Stitches
Preface **** Bonita Smith was a chubby "Plain Jane." A poor girl from Bay Roberts, Newfoundland, and all she ever wanted was to be a top New York fashion designer. Living in a small, isolated town and the daughter of the local Pentecostal preacher was an obstacle in the path that led to fulfilling her dreams.
By Curtis Keith Simms5 years ago in Fiction
How A Marigold Flower Saved Me from a Mental Breakdown
After losing his dad at the age of 10 due to a brain aneurysm, Alfred did whatever he could financially to help his mom. She worked cleaning offices and waitressing jobs. Alfred began working at the age of 11, selling a weekly local newspaper to commuters catching trains on their way to work. After doing this job for two years, he moved up to working at a local fast-food restaurant as a cook, janitor, and cashier. As Alfred started high school, he also worked as a janitor for a community center while continuing his fast-food career.
By Anthony Chan5 years ago in Fiction
Just Get There
This is a continuation of the "Just Get There" series. Here you can find part 1 and part 2. Jessa was fighting back the panic she was feeling. Tears of fear and shock about what just happened rolled down her cheek. She felt like she had been waiting in the quickly fading dusk for an eternity before she heard him call out again.
By J. Delaney-Howe5 years ago in Fiction
Note to Self: Reposted!
This story was originally submitted to Short Fiction Break on the last day in July 2018 (under my previous pseudonym, Hannah M. Dillard). It's a little awkward for a short story, but who isn't a little awkward at times? I've also included some new, original illustrations for this post. Enjoy!
By Hannah Marie. 5 years ago in Fiction
The Shattered Pond
The pond is still, long frozen over for the winter. I am the one who is shattered. Momma is dead now. After all the evening frozen margaritas, which led to the morning bottles of wine, shots of whiskey, and then bottles of vodka instead of the cups of coffee, Momma is dead. Even though everyone saw it coming, even though I saw it coming, I am still shattered.
By Chloe Medeiros5 years ago in Fiction
Mercury Bluffs
Chapter 1 September 4th, 10:22 A.M. State Beach, Martha’s Vineyard Blood-curdling screams rode the crimson waves and crashed hard against the hot sand. Two of the three teenage lifeguards on duty began to pierce through the chaos with their Kiefer Pealess whistles, alerting any remaining swimmers that there was a shark in the water. Beach goers of all ages were suddenly thrusted into a panic as they rushed to gather their scattered friends and family members in desperate attempts to retreat to the safety of their vehicles. Beyond the red buoys which marked the limit for all swimmers, Bree scanned the water with her Marine Rescue binoculars and saw three gray dorsal fins breaching the roiling water indicating that these were now hunting grounds. They were tactically circling a lone sloop which didn’t appear to have any souls on board. Bree’s heart quickly sank to the depths of her stomach, fearing the worst.
By Kale Sinclair5 years ago in Fiction
