Short Story
Ashen Dystopia
It was all she had left. The one solitary reminder that life had not always been this way. Something solid to hold on to. She knew had this one piece of herself not survived, she could easily question her entire previous existence. After all, no one talked about it anymore. The ashen and dark world before her had swallowed the memory of any previous way of life. It was that sadness and depression that swallowed more survivors than the explosion itself. She held tight though; she knew that is what they would have wanted. She could not give up, not yet. So, with vigor and strength, she rose from the ashes surrounding her makeshift camp and clasped the delicate chain securely around her neck. The heart shaped locket bounced softly against her chest with each determined step. Like a small heartbeat, it gave her the hope to move on. If this small symbol of her mother could survive maybe her brother was still alive too.
By Paige Baker5 years ago in Fiction
Something Familiar
The wind whispered through the dark, empty trees like a warning in a foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winter comes the monsters; those horrible, retched beasts that threaten my home. Every year on the Winter Solstice they fight to get inside. They want to dismantle everything they see. No one knows why they do it, that's just how they were bred.
By Missy Roberts5 years ago in Fiction
Monotony
“The downfall of mankind will be itself.” The words of the President’s last transmission, only hours before the United States government fell. The longest lasting unified front in the world. Holding its own against the Liberation for twenty seven years. For the first time making the world one people.
By Sarah Gaspar5 years ago in Fiction
Ebovid World
The sky was its usual overcast dull gray with the smallest hint of blue around the edges. Sure someplace out there beyond the walls of what people called civilization there could possibly be a blue sky and an open field. Who knows? I sure didn’t. I was born in this horrid place that we called home. It once was the United States. Now it was a bunch of individual sovereigns, each with its’ own egomaniac that controlled it.
By Carrie Green5 years ago in Fiction
What A Mother Does
Erica always felt inadequate, but never more so than when she became a mother. Her mother, Eleanor (Nora to her friends), had always been the definition of perfection, and by that scale, she never knew how she would measure up. From her mother's perfect hair, makeup and flawless style, to her compassion and patience, there wasn't anything you could count against her. And she didn't have it easy by any means.
By Krystle Lynn Rederer5 years ago in Fiction
In The Dark Together
This is my recollection of that day when I was ten. It was about three months after the volcanoes in the Ring of Fire erupted almost simultaneously. Then, unexplainably, new volcanoes grew and erupted in a matter of weeks, sometimes days. I called them pimple volcanoes. The worst part was that they kept growing farther and farther inland from the Ring of Fire.
By Heidi Mitchell5 years ago in Fiction
Tragically Saturated
With the sun glaring down and bouncing off the nearly glass-like water, I look towards the front of our aluminium canoe and see my younger brother with his arms crossed and eyes closed, and feel suddenly grateful for this moment of peace and absolute quiet.
By Tessa Rising5 years ago in Fiction
Relic of a Terrible Time
"Stop!" I screamed as they held me and ripped the locket from my throat. "It's too powerful! You can't do this!" I flailed and thrashed as hard as I could, deperate to return my precious, heart shaped locket to my neck. That locket, that ever so tiny locket was the key to everything. Everything I worked so hard to protect, and just like that, it was gone.
By Hope Shelley5 years ago in Fiction
