Young Adult
The end of Ragnorak
"Father, can you tell us the story of how you stopped Ragnorak Alliance?" Kaldrick looked at his children. Sweet Luna had her mother's beautiful nutbrown skin and soft smile. Next to her was Abo, who already looked like a carbon copy of Kaldrick when he was younger. A steady heat pulsed from the fireplace.
By Theodore Johnson5 years ago in Fiction
What a wonderful life
What a Wonderful Life The old man looked up from his book. The sun, slanting through thick foliage, touched his wrinkled cheeks with warm gentleness, and dappled his body. Sitting on many soft pillows stacked into a heaping pile, he looked very much like a weathered, deformed pearl on the thick tongue of a marbled oyster. He leaned against a silver birch, listening to the soft birdsong. The grove he was sitting in was small and cozy. Closing his eyes against the soft light, he smiled and thought, what a wonderful life I've lived. He thought about all of his family. He thought of his children and their children and about his new great granddaughter still yet to experience the wonders of the world. He couldn’t wait to see her bright little face. So innocent and full of life.
By Jasmine Henry5 years ago in Fiction
The Girl
I was only thirteen years old the day I died. Tragic, I know. But the truth is, I didn’t feel much of anything. I was laying high on the branches of the old oak tree behind my family home. There was a storm rolling in and I had the best view. A view so mystifying that I never saw the strike coming.
By Gelena Nicole Brown5 years ago in Fiction
The Sunken City
The few who survived the flash sauntered along the barren road in a bleary daze. Exhausted and stupefied, a band of ragged and disheveled youths dragged their footsteps along against the blazing heat. The pack was led by a boy of sixteen. Behind him trudged ten, six boys and four girls, all younger and (more unsure of themselves). It was Luke’s naturally assertive and commanding demeanor that convinced the reluctant children to depart from the ruined town in search of other survivors. The troop of kids were playing within an old bunker when death swept across the land and decimated everything within its path. When the deafening crash thundered across the sky, the children hurried up the ladder, and in vain, pushed against the hatch. The howling wind of a thousand gales pressurized against the vault and trapped the children for four days. When the wind ceased, it was immediately noticeable; it was as if someone were clapping cymbals in their ears without pause for days on end and suddenly relented. In fact, the abrupt quietude filled the air almost as quickly as did the howling, and from their restless sleep did the children awaken and anxiously scramble up the ladder. The open air was clogged with a thick layer of sand and sent the children immediately into fits of coughing. The wind, although distinctly calmer, still blew turbulently. The sky was a terrible haze of deep orange and sanguine streaks, and against the dust, the sun struggled to pierce through. Fine sand particles moving through the turbulent gusts of air scratched at the children’s exposed eyes and effectively blinded them, sending the investigation party back beneath the ground.The sand-beaten children sat rubbing at their irritated eyes, while those who had remained underground waited impatiently for a report.
By Jonah Blue Krell5 years ago in Fiction
Do you love me?
It all started because I wouldn’t stop. Nor did I want to stop. Everybody warned me, my family warned me, my friends warned me, hell even you warned me. But you warned me not to stay away but to never leave you because there would serious consequences if I were to leave.
By Sarah Aimie5 years ago in Fiction
CTRL-ALT
The first time Davina Vidal faded was a cool September night. There were fireflies blinking across the lawn. Crickets serenaded the neighborhood backyards. She remembered how she always used to think the equinox was so cool. Just the word itself made it somehow sound otherworldly. Ironic. Her friend Skye was following this new punk band called CTRL-ALT and she convinced Davina to come over after softball practice for their album release. Punk was definitely not Davina's scene. She was an old soul who grew up on her dad's Motown LPs.
By Mike Morgan5 years ago in Fiction
Northeast to Eden
It hadn’t rained in seventeen years and the earth grew hotter every day. There was no respite from the dust and the wind except for inside abandoned homes and office buildings—a dilapidated theme park of a past reality. In place of ocean tides on sandy beaches, waves of death and destruction crashed upon the remaining living souls daily. Some wondered if there was any point in continuing to survive, for living was a luxury of the past. Others, however, sought salvation.
By Stephanie Hamilton5 years ago in Fiction
