Category: Short Story

A Wall And A Stool

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A Wall and A Stool
            Another minute, another hour; I had been waiting outside of the theater after my rehearsal for 3 hours now, waiting for my dad to show up. I rolled my eyes and yanked my phone charger from the outlet. Another seven mile walk with my six AP textbooks and stage binders. I packed up my stuff and rose from the bench, with my hundred-ton backpack. I began my walk at a quick pace towards a small alley through Lanston Avenue, which I had previously taken as a shortcut. I gazed up the few stars visible in the sky and drew out a cold breath. The clouds thundered above as I tried to locate safe shelter for my textbooks and me. I swiftly stepped into a small, run down building as the rain began to fall.
            “Hey!”  I looked around to find a source to the loud voice. More mumbled cries echoed through the hall. As I stored my books safely in behind a wall, I caught sight of a small, dimly illuminated opening to crawl through. I slowly made my way towards a battered, but well-lit room. A tear rolled down my cheek and my heart ached.
            Another shrill scream of an innocent girl reverberated through the room, and I grimaced. Small tied up children were being whipped, slapped, and tortured until the abusive adults reached satisfaction. I crawled backwards to the opening when I hit a wall. I tried to turn when something grabbed my legs and yanked me out.
            “Well well, what do we have here?” A thunderous voice rumbled through the building, and I trembled in the large hands of this man with horrifying tattoos and scary piercings.
            “Ha-ha! Boss will like this one, she’s fresh meat!” Another vicious voice spit, and at that, I scoffed and shoved out of his grip.
            “Ahem,” dusting off myself dramatically, “I happen to be a person, and those children,” I said pointing towards the astringent room, “happen to be innocent and have done no wrong!”
            Surprised by my sudden outburst, the men looked dumbfounded. My mother always said, ‘Hit a wall? Step on a stool and hit it right back’, I always thought that was ludicrous because in the end you’d anyways end up in pain; but today, I thought it came in handy. One of the men let out an acrimonious gruff and next thing I knew, it was pitch black.
            I woke to, what seemed as hours later, a faint room with crying children around me, some crying in pain, others whimpering in fear. A loud thunderous voice pierced through the room, “All right men! We’re done for the day, these things will be shipped in the morning, oh and include the fresh meat as well.” I gasped at his order and pulled my legs to my stomach. They killed the lights and I squirmed out of the tight grasp of the rope to pull my phone out of my right boot. I quickly dialed ‘911’ when someone appeared in front of me.
            “Hey! What do you think you’re doing? Well! Not on my watch!” he kicked the phone out of my hand and my heart dropped several levels. “You think the police will come and rescue you? Well, forget about it! That’s another 35 beats for you!” He hit me, and he hit hard. I could feel the dents and cracks in my bones with the hard swings of the bat. Before I blacked out, I smiled at the next four words announced from the phone, “911, what’s your emergency?”  
About 5 years later
            “…and that’s my story. These children now are very healthy and all in school! The men who committed this injustice are also being taught a lesson, something for everyone! So yea, I hit a wall, but always keep a stool handy, because you never know when you’re gonna need it to jump back up and give it a turn around.” I smiled and accepted the applause as I hobbled off the stage with my crutch.
            “That was wonderful! It was so inspiring, I’m crying!” My mom jumped with enthusiasm as she handed me another medication to be taken. It had been about five years since the incident, and well, I was still recovering from the traumatic event with the miracle work of the doctors. The news of my story went viral, and parents of those children were so thankful they all pitched in for my operation, which was one and half weeks long. I stepped out, signing autographs and taking pictures, slowly making my way to the car. Once we got out of the large crowd of people, we headed to the Rosettes Foundation HQ; I was proud to have begun this organization after my surgery had taken place, the foundation provided for abused children and strived to put an end to trafficking schemes
            “Alexis! We have just found a small group working on Lanston Avenue,” my mind flashed back five years; “…we are sendi-“
            “No, I will go along; some people will never get it and will have to have it the hard way.” And with that, I turned towards the car.
                              So to my readers: I really hope you find your stool, in any situation.

The Cube

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My challenge was capturing this cube. I had to solve this cube within 30 minutes, and if I did not complete it within the given time period, I would have failed this mission.

Let me start from the beginning. A month ago, I was given the mission to complete this relic in order to have some fun. I thought it was cool. And without knowing, I shuffled it up. The ticking bomb started. One problem though. I didn’t know it was ticking. 

Originally I thought, It’s going to be alright. I have lot of time to figure it out.

I picked it up once in a while and looked at it. I could get through one part of it, but I could never figure out the entire puzzle. So I put it down and came back to it later. This was on repeat for days and days.

I also first thought that there was no importance in this mission. I had more important things to do such as slay my grades with material stronger than any sword or build my blueprint for my fortress within 20 seconds. But defusing a bomb that I had no idea was a bomb? That was the least of my priorities.

Days and days this occurred. I saw it, I attempted to solve it, failed solving it, threw it across the room and picked it up the next day. And everyday, I was getting more curious on how it worked and how to solve it

I then saw an article about it talked about how it was sucking in the minds of many kids, teenagers, and adults.

“Oh no!” I was shocked. This bomb, this cube, this object, was  becoming a world wide toy and it was brainwashing the students all together.

“Hey Harish, can I check out that cube?” I promptly heard my sister say.

I was shocked but it was too late. The bomb had exploded and many more would come again if I didn’t stop this one.

With more panic within me, I grasped the cube with my sweaty hands. I turned each of the panels and layers on it and matched up the colors.

My hands felt frozen.

My teeth were chattering.

And all of this led to the moment I am in right now.

Right freaking now.

Each turn was more important than the last, and if I made a mistake, I would have to start this all over again.

My sister asked me 15 minutes later, “Can you help me with this puzzle?”

I responded in a panic that may have turned into a shout, “NO! THE WORLD RELIES ON ME SOLVING THIS CUBE SO DON’T DISTURB ME!” My sister went back to her workspace trying to find the missing piece of the 300 piece puzzle. 

After a countless number of twisting and turning, I saw the end of the cube near.

I also heard the mission leader in my ear say, “H you have one minute left.”

Adrenaline rushed into me and my hands started moving faster, and faster, and faster. The colors on the cube started to become a blur and I could only hope that I knew what I was doing. Then, my hands started slowing down to see what was happening. 

My finger moved as the final turn in my Rubik’s cube completed the simple colors on each side.

“Yes!” I thought when another thought dawned upon me.

“Can you help me now?” my sister said with her 300 puzzle pieces scattered over the floor.

“Agent H, your mission, do you choose to accept it?”

A Rude Awakening

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A Rude Awakening


As a child, everyone grows up with this fantasized view of the world where everyone and everything is nice and perfect. Parents love their children, bad people go to jail, and anyone who misbehaves gets in trouble. Many children wake up from this sugar-coated dream at a young age, including me. When I found out that my family wasn’t as perfect as I thought, it altered my view of the world completely.

It was a pretty average day for a five year old, with my dad driving me from my mom’s house back to his house. We were driving down that winding road that has all of those lush green trees that can take your breath away with one look. With the windows cracked open, you could smell autumn making its way throught the air, with the warm colors close behind. I was struggling to regain control of my hair as gusts of wind blew it into a mess; silence filled the car. Our conversation about school that day had just ended when, in that silence, I recalled a televison show episode I had watched earlier, That’s So Raven. In the episode I wathced, Raven goes through a situation where she thinks her parents might get a divorce. I had no idea what the word divorce could possibly mean at the time, so I continued to watch the show. By curiously watching the show, I eventually guessed that divorce was when the mom and dad seperated. Something abou that term was bothering me since I left my mom’s house, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I then started to connect the dots and notice the similarities to my life. A million thoughts raced through my head all at once. Could my parents be divorced? Am I adopted? If they’re divorced, why do I have four parents? Are my parents kidnappers? I couldn’t imagine my mom and dad ever being happy together. I then realized that it must be true because I knew I looked too much like them to have been kidnapped or adopted. I then asked the dreaded question, “Are you and Mommy divorced?”

My dad showed no surprise towards the question and calmly answered, “Yes”, explaining the details about how and why they had seperated. He also confirmed that I was indeed not adopted or kidnapped at any point in life. Initially, I wasn’t as shocked as expected because everything fit like a puzzle. It explained why I traveled between houses, why I had more than two parents, and why my parents didn’t get along. This moment gave me the rude awakening that no one and no family is as perfect as it’s thought to be. I also learned that just because a family isn’t picture perfect, doesn’t mean they aren’t a family.

The Secret

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The Secret

There’s only thirty more seconds left. Why does time have to go so fast? A movement in the corner of my eye catches my attention. It’s Tommy shooting a basket with a balled up piece of paper. “Hey, Kate! You see that? Only one try!”

I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of my reaction, so I just roll my eyes and continue my staring contest with the clock. Three… Two… One… The annoyingly loud bell screeches into everyone’s ears. Whooping and hollering is taking place in the already crowded hallways. I slowly pack up my school books, papers, and pencil, delaying the inevitable without being too obvious. I quickly glance around the room to find the teacher looking at me. Oh, no. I attempt getting out of the classroom before he tries to talk to me, but fail.

“How are you doing, Kate? You seemed a little sad today.” I want to say terrible, awful, depressing, but as usual, I say the socially acceptable thing.

“I’m fine, Mr. Moore! Just a little tired! Have good day!” My fake happiness is expertly plastered all over my face.

“Okay. You too,” he replies with delight in his voice. I sprint out the door, hugging my textbooks, with my head down. The crowd is moving like a school of fish towards the front entrance. I hate Fridays. People get way too happy about the weekend and the stupid Friday-night football games. The games are just another excuse to exaggerate the social class difference between the upper-class, jocks and cheerleaders, and the lower-class, me.

After what seems like one minute, I find myself getting off the bus. I start taking slug-like steps in the direction of my house. Even when walking the slowest speed humanly possible, I still reach my house in only eight minutes. Not long enough. I wish time could stand still, even if only for a little while. I silently insert the key into the door lock and turn it to the right. The front door noisily creaks open, making my heartbeat skyrocket. I walk through the doorway and head towards the stairs. As I’m creeping quietly through the house, I catch a glimpse of my mom who has passed out on the couch again. I routinely walk over and check her pulse. It’s still beating away, so I pick up the bottles of alcohol littering the room. I carefully place the bottles in a trash bag, to be thrown out later. Even her faint breath can be heard in the silence of the house. It’s kind of funny how such a damaged home can be unbelievably loud at one point and silent the next.

A Joyous Day

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A Joyous Day

Chirp, chirp. Bright and early in the morning the birds started to sing. Their beautiful song filling the air like a fluffy cloud in the light blue sky. It was eight o’clock on a Saturday and Lisette was getting ready to attend her cousin Courtney’s sweet sixteen. She got up, washed her face and shrugged into her aqua green dress. The dress fit Lisette perfectly around her waist. It was a birthday gift from her aunt and she had been asked to wear it during the party. Even though the party didn’t start until seven o’clock at night, she couldn’t wait to try it on just once.

Lisette ran down the steps to the kitchen. Her parents and older brother had already eaten their breakfast at the table and were cleaning up. 

“Good morning everyone.” Lisette announced happily. 

“Good morning Lisette,” Her mom and dad replied in unison. Her brother Clark just nodded his head as a hello. As they got up, Lisette sat down. Clark exited the kitchen to his room, her mom was getting started on the dishes, and her dad was reading the newspaper. She had a huge grin on her face. She couldn’t wait to go to Courtney’s party. She’s never been to one as a matter of fact. Her friends all just turned fifteen and she was still waiting for her turn in July. 

“So are you excited to go to Courtney’s party?” her mother asked. 

“Definitely,” she replied. “You  know the aqua green dress Aunt Becky got me for my birthday?”
Her mother nodded. 

“Well, I really want to wear it for the first time at her party,” Lisette said. “You know, since it’s the first time I’ll be going to one.”

“Of course you can sweetie,” her mom said. “I’m just worried you’ll spill something on it and stain it. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Lisette promised. She helped her mom with the dishes, and then put them away. She ran up to her room and started reading and drawing, counting the hours till the party. She even fell asleep for two hours!

“Lisette!” her mom called out. “It’s time to go!”

“Coming!” Lisette replied while going down the steps with caution. She really didn’t want anything to happen to her new dress. She had others she liked, but this one had to be her favorite.

It was seven o’clock and the sun was setting. Its colors were fading away slowly, as if it was the last time you would ever see it. Lisette and her family walked outside greeted with a cool breeze hitting their faces. The lights from their house raided with moths, causing their shadows to dance in the dark.

An hour late they arrived. There was light shining through all the large windows in the house. Lisette knew the party had already started. She took a deep breath. They all walked toward the front door and were greeted by a middle aged woman with her hair in a bun. 

“Hello Jane, Andrew, Clark, Lisette,” aunt Becky said looking at all of us. “Come in it’s cold outside. Come in.”

Lisette walked inside and started looking around at all the decorations hung up on the walls. “Whoa,” she said in awe. She stood near her parents and in an instant they disappeared, but she didn’t care. She knew her aunt’s house inside and out. 

“Lisette!” Courtney yelled. Lisette turned around and looked at Courtney across the room with a smile a mile wide. She walked towards Courtney with a swing in her step. This is going to be fun, she thought.