You can't flee, Butterfly_Bye Bye GoodBye_The Tyranny of Light_Detonation
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You can't flee, Butterfly
They were both the same color. Same size. Same shape. And, like her, stuck in the same box. The differences between them was on the status of the box: the little girl called it home. The difference between the doors, however, was the noise coming from one of them."If you do that one more time…"Her father's voice sounded sharp and angry. It would've scared her if it was the first time. She looked at the two doors in front of her wondering which one to open."So what? What are you gonna do, huh?"She used her left hand to wipe her tears when she heard her mom's voice almost whispered. It was like ...
Bye Bye GoodBye
The dial-tone captured the sound of my heartbeat flatlining. I dialed Evelyn’s number. The zipping and clicking noises of the rotary dial resuscitated it. I released my finger from the last number, then slammed the receiver down. Now my heart was racing. I didn’t know what to say. I had obsessive thoughts of how to say goodbye. That’s it. I am going to her house. I rushed down stairs, and grabbed my jacket. As I opened the front door, my mother walked out of the kitchen. She said, “Jonathan where are you going?”Where was I going, “I am going to Rob’s house to watch the football game.” “It is o...
The Tyranny of Light
The old grandfather clock, invisible in the darkened dining room, whirred and clunked through its gears just before chiming eleven times. As the last tone faded, the innkeeper heard a creak. This was not the groan of the country house settling. For 42 years, the murmurs and sighs of the aged walls and floors had woven themselves into the innkeeper’s consciousness. She knew those noises as intimately as she knew the pops and clicks of her bones.No, this was the squeak of one Early American floorboard being pushed against another. The kind of push that could only come from a footstep.Betsy looke...
Detonation
{ note: this is my first story so there could be mistakes but enjoy anyways :) }Lucas followed Vera through the dark depths of the sewer tunnels. The stench seeped through the grubby brick walls in a way that made his eyes water. He knew that the girl in front of him felt it too but she didn’t utter a word; they both knew that journeying through the surface was like an act of suicide. Vera looked back at the boy, her plump lips formed into a thin line. He always thought that Vera was beautiful. With her slim figure and her wavy brunette locks cascading down her back. Even dressed in filthy ra...