Young Adult

Subfloor Six
Jocelyn opened her eyes, awoken from her afternoon nap by the chirping of an alert over the intercom. “Attention all Age 13-15 Apprentices: You are to report to Subfloor Six. Be prepared for inspection.” The metallic voice clicked off, leaving her in a silence that could only be achieved within the thick, stone walls. They eat echoes.
By Emily McGuff5 years ago in Fiction
The First Born
Lena watched the fall colors pour in through the window and dance on the paint-chipped walls. The sun was coming up already, but she hadn’t slept at all. How could she? Today was October 1, 2035, her fourteenth birthday and the day they would come for her.
By Gelena Nicole Brown5 years ago in Fiction
The Farm
I remember the last time that I saw her alive. I was standing on the observation deck, trailing behind my father and his colleagues; they were talking business. Business that was also my business, yet I didn’t care for it. I didn’t so much care for the logistics of the farm, or where they found the stock; I cared about how they were treated, or more so, how they deserved to be treated. To my father and his peers, the humans on the farm were nothing more than cattle, but to me, they were people. Just like us, minus the fangs. They were stronger than us, fighting the effects of the vaccine, yet we deemed ourselves superior in order to harvest their blood.
By Etive5 years ago in Fiction
Adapt or Die
It’s the year 2070, it’s been 20 years since the melting of the Arctic and Antarctic. Earthquakes, tsunamis, sand storms, and hurricanes wiped out billions of people, as did many other natural disasters. It was too late for the government to help us, but people continued to petition in hopes that the government would help them, but when they realized there was nothing they could do, they went dark. They abandoned us. They left us to fend for ourselves. We haven’t heard from them since.
By Grace Gaebel5 years ago in Fiction
Greyscale
The World was grey. Though it was better to call it monochrome as the grey varied from place to place but was empty and flat all the same. Even the sky never shifts from dark grey even as the clouds scroll by though I’m told it once used to be bright and blue. I could not picture it for I did not know what blue is.
By Anastasia J Cleveringa5 years ago in Fiction
The Varnd Experience
The process should have been over in two minutes—but he didn’t stop screaming… Tynan didn’t believe me when I told him to hold it back, to pretend not to feel the pain, pretend your skin didn’t feel as if it were being peeled off of you, pretend not to hear the lies as they seeped deep into your soul, taking hold on the gentlest parts of you…
By Mycheille Norvell5 years ago in Fiction
Hunter Oak
I walk down the street previously known as Hunter Oak. No one remains in the emptied-out houses. One of them has burned down, whether from an electrical fire before the power grid failed or looters or just plain arson for giggles, I don't know.
By Jen Mearns5 years ago in Fiction
Red Dawn
A loud blare made Andrea jolt in her spot as she climbed the rusty fire escape of a five story apartment block in what used to be called Brooklyn. She knew there was no point in looking over to see the Guard patrolling the streets, with their stone-cold expressions and guns, their faces eerily human. Yet she couldn’t help herself from peering over her shoulder as she tightened her grip on the ramp, her heart still racing from the sudden blare of the curfew alarm. It reminded everyone there was only an hour left before they started taking everyone who dared to walk outside past curfew into custody.
By Yordanka Yordanova5 years ago in Fiction
Into the Wastelands
Start writing..... Zander It’s so hard to breathe. I’ve felt pain before but nothing like this. It’s like someone has stuck a white hot iron rod down my throat. I haven’t had food in three days and I just finished the last bit of my water yesterday, it was windy and one of the hottest days yet. I try focusing on sitting up but I’m so disoriented it takes me forever just to get my hands under my shoulders to push myself up off the red dirt. As my head stops spinning I notice I’m inside of a culvert.
By Hailey Bayliss5 years ago in Fiction
The Last Undrowned City
The ocean, people say, is one of life's greatest mysteries. Dark waters beneath the line of waves are where nightmares are born. There are creatures with six arms and twenty rows of teeth; fish with eyes the size of small fishing boats, and the water is so dark, people swear you go blind just swimming too deep. But the ocean was also beautiful. When the sun hits the horizon it turns the water yellow and orange, like a sea of gold. Sailors say it was then when you were most likely to be rewarded with good fortune.
By Makenzie Fox5 years ago in Fiction
Oasis Key
I am Winter. My mother gave me that name after her favorite season. She would tell stories about how before the earth was scorched, snowflakes would rain down from the sky. Her words would bring my comfort, to her, Winter meant hope.
By Kora Greenwood5 years ago in Fiction
Herman's Gully
-1- 1984 sifted away like a Boggle sand timer. The major highlight of my sixth-grade summer was when I almost died. Just ask Reynard. He remembers.
By Dean Floyd5 years ago in Fiction