The crowd started to clap. I started to walk up the bleachers then it all happened. Fast‚ sharp‚ and quick it was. Then I felt it in my cheeks and I started to blush. Next I felt it in my stomach.Those butterflies had come. Everyone trying to look‚ trying to look for the boy who fell behind the bleachers‚ the boy who knocked down the backdrop. It all started at Providence Elementary’s Winter Concert. It took place at Kempsville Middle‚ home of the Chiefs. The classes were getting ready for our songs
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“Bro these guys are huge! We are about to get beat so bad. And look how fast they are.” Austin Blake was usually never intimidated. As the captain of the defense he was generally so stoic you would have thought there was no one he couldn’t beat. His attitude always inspired confidence and tenacity in us. He was our fearless leader. But today it seemed as if his lack of confidence was just a foreshadowing of yet another total mental and physical collapse of a team in the face of Westwood High school
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I awoke that day to the sounds of men yelling and whips cracking‚ people screaming and chains rattling. I had no idea where I was. Though I had a splitting headache‚ I could tell I was moving‚ on something like a stretcher. I opened my eyes slightly‚ and saw that I was being carried by some men who appeared to be Fulani‚ along some sort of beach. I assumed I was on the coast‚ for when I glanced toward the sea it appeared to go on until it met the horizon. After understanding where I likely was
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The Chase My wrists started to ache terribly as I trudged along the hard concrete road. Usually‚ when I took this route home‚ I passed all sorts of strange looking people. Where we lived‚ was an odd place‚ the people there were very friendly‚ but sometimes too friendly‚ getting in the way of your private life‚ asking personal questions that you didn’t really know how to answer. But on this particular night‚ a humid night at that‚ there was absolutely no sound to be heard. Not even the squeal of
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Puffy clouds were floating on the radiant blue sky. The murky‚ sticky air surrounded the peaceful New York. Contaminated ominous smoke belch out from skyscrapers across the river. Rigid cement was about to melt down‚ animals stayed underground and people began sweltering as if they were the farmers below the fierce sun. Smoothly‚ the breeze danced over the resting people sitting on the wooden wall nearby Hudson River. The day was quiet as the grave to a wonder. The clear blue sky contrasted itself
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As a young girl‚ I experienced what at the time I thought was the end of the world. Yes‚ I was a little bit of a drama queen. At the age of eleven‚ and on my way to a ballet recital a woman who was careless pulled under an awning in a non-parking zone in front of The Girls Club. I was running to catch up with my group. I looked left and right and proceeded to walk under the awing to the parking lot across from the building. From the corner of my eye’s I saw a white car pull up in front of me very
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As I wake up lying in my bed doused in sweat from the nightmare I just had‚The same Nightmare that I have every night the last thing I ever saw. The accident. Before the accident I was a normal kid no scars‚ no getting made fun of and certainly wasn’t blind. I didn’t want another day of getting made fun of just because I was different. Still I got out of my sweat drenched bed and got ready for another day of dread. I barely made it to the bus and I sat in the first seat I found with nobody in it
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It’s almost last call. It has reached the point in the night where the sensible members of society have left‚ leaving only the hopeless drunks and a few young couples too lost in trivial conversation to realize the bar is closing soon. That’s a lie. This place doesn’t bring in any sensible people‚ in fact it hardly brings anyone in at all anymore. I like to remember how it used to be—so full of life and genuinely pleasant—and pretend that’s still the way it is. But this bar in particular‚ which I
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I inhaled the night time city smells of street food‚ sweat‚ cigarettes‚ and garbage‚ as I stepped toward the bus. I hadn’t taken two steps before someone shoved me to the side and dashed down the street weaving through people like a true professional. I tottered and nearly fell‚ but I kept my balance. Annoyed‚ I swept my gaze throughout the crowd and saw the rude stranger- a young man‚ maybe in his late teens‚ with thick black hair‚ dressed in a dark gray t-shirt and jeans. For a moment‚ he looked
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The Beach. A storm brews above. People escape the beach‚ quickly grabbing their possessions as rain spits down on them. Music from cafes and fare rides come to a halt as their customers quickly disappear and the happy sounds of laughter echo around the empty beach. A gloomy shadow descends over the sea. Feeble light from the few surviving streetlights and lanterns appear to dim as the dark clouds move across the sky like a creeping panther. Birds silence their song and flee to safer places. Sandcastles
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