New Short Stories Every Sunday
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Pop! Fizzzz! Beer pours out, foamy and deep brown, into a red solo cup. Woooooshhh! Briella’s foundation spews down the side of the wall. Spsssssshhh! Water from the sink flies back at some wasted kid, nailing him between in the temple. Bull’s eye. I spin around in a little circle on the dance floor. God, I’ve got to pee.
In the corner, I lock eyes with a shaking white door. Bathroom. Bingo. Stumbling through a cast of drunk, privileged kids, I pilgrimage my way to the toilet. An awful bass beat pounds in my head over and over. Boom, boom, boom, bo- BAM! Some kid slams me into the bathroom door. “Hey, watch it!” I try to exclaim, but all my syllables slur together. My hand reaches out for the door. It takes me a couple goes to really get a grip, but I twist the door open. Right in the doorway, a boy pushes another girl against the wall, his lips tugging on hers. “Oh sorry. I didn’t-“ All my thoughts stop. “Kyle?” His head snaps toward me. Kyle. The same Kyle with wide blue eyes and a cherry smile and these little dimples that deepened when he grinned. The same Kyle that never failed to make me laugh when I was sad and always had a wild story to tell. The same Kyle that looked at me like I was the only person in the world. The same Kyle I fell in love with four years ago. Kyle charges toward me. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was-“ “Nonono,” I murmur, stumbling backwards. “No, I don’t want to hear it.” “Babe! Please, I wasn’t even gonna-“ The music absorbs me, drowning out Kyle’s cries. I charge over to the makeshift bar and put the closest bottle of alcohol to my lips. One good bottle of vodka and I might just forget my boyfriend was- “I wanna goooo, May!” I glance up. Rylee, teetering on her glittery heals, looks at me with glazed eyes. Behind her, Kyle sprints toward us, dodging the dozens of hot, sweaty teenagers loosing control of their bodies. |
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Thunk, pat, thunk, pat, thunk, pat. Hallie’s yellow sneakers slam onto the concrete. There was a rhythm to the sound they made. Thunk, pat, thunk, pat, thunk, pat. A thousand thoughts had filled her head just moments earlier. Thoughts of anger, of hate. Of words she wished she could take back and a punch she wished she had thrown. But none of it mattered on the corner of Willowsbrook and Kennedy Road. Her music roared so loud, her muscles burned so strong, her body dripped with sweat, and not a single thought could possibly break through.
Halsey’s lyrics drummed in her ears. “I keep a record of the wreckage in my life. I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind. They talk shit, but I love it every time. And I realize-“ BOOM! The noise was louder than anything Hallie had ever heard. Her eyes locked with a girl her age whose face was painted with horror. That’s the last image in her mind. The way her eyes bulged out of her flesh in raw panic. Her mouth drawn back in a gaping hole of agony. A searing pain crawled up through Hallie’s chest, like her rib cage was on fire, and then there was nothing. Just black. Black, black nothing. A moment comes in everyone’s life where you get to decide who you are as a human. Are you good? Are you evil? Do you show kindness and compassion in the face of adversity? Or do you crumble under the weight of the wicked? This was our moment. This is who we are.
“Who wants a fucking drink?” Scarlet asks, strutting into the room. Megan starts to laugh. “I think you’re becoming an alcoholic, Scar.” “Where’d you even get alcohol?” Kit asks curiously, lifting his head off Megan’s shoulder. “The drinking age is eighteen here!” Scarlet shouts as she grabs cups from the living room. “This is Wyoming, not Europe,” Mark corrects her, flopping on to the couch. “As long as it’s not Denver, I don’t give a fuck.” Scarlet talks as she drinks from her bottle. “Anyone else?” she kindly offers her vodka around. “I think we’re good, Scarlet,” Megan tells her, setting the bottle down on the table. Mark sighs. “This really has been the best trip.” “Woah, Mark Hollow has something positive to say? Where are the cameras?” Kit chides him with a smile. “Shut up,” Mark growls, shaking his head. “That’s more like it,” Scarlet laughs. |
Kick, step. Kick, step. Kick, step. Kick, step.
The two words drum over in my brain again and again. Kick, step. Kick, step. It makes things simple. All I have to do is kick and step. At least, David made it seem that way. The dress was a deep red made of pure velvet. I didn’t want to wear it, but like everything else in my life these days David had the smooth talkin’ way of making me do things. “David, I don’t wanna fuckin’ go,” I stood in our bedroom; well, it wouldn’t be ours much longer, with my arms crossed. I fixed a steady glare on David. “The fuck you are. I already told everyone you were gonna be there.” He shrugged as though that very statement was some binding contract I couldn’t get out of. “David, I physically cannot go,” I almost shrieked. A tiny, very quiet giggle came from inside our closet. I glanced over at it. Our seven year old daughter, Layla, is hiding in between David’s designer suits. When David looks away, I quickly put my finger to my lips. David would surely kill her if he saw her spying on us. “I don’t understand. You’ve been getting ready for the past ten hours.” He had this dumb fuckin’ stare that made him look dead inside. He had looked that way for six months. “There was something murky in the water that day. I know it. I know what I saw.”
The gorgeous sky loomed over my head. The sun just started to fade, replaced by darkening clouds. There always had been something stunning about a moment before a storm. Something so peaceful, entrancing. The clouds themselves could devour me whole if I- “Savannah!” I gently lifted my head off the edge of the paddle board. Mom stood on the corner of the dock, her eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed. “Dinner,” she said curtly. “What?” I shouted back at her. “Dinner.” Mom’s eyes glanced quickly around the ocean. “Where’s your brother?” I sat up on the paddle board and turned to my left. “He’s right-“ But he’s not there. He wasn’t floating next to me with his ugly neon swimsuit, thick metal bracelet, and little smiley smirk. I gulped. He came back. Didn’t he? We were on Manatee Island and we fought, sure, but then the sky grew gray and we paddled back. He paddled back with me. “He must still be on the island. I’ll go get him,” I told mom even though I knew he couldn’t possibly be there. Where else could he be though? There was no other explanation. Jake played some kind of trick and now I gotta go all the way back and get him. I paddled away from the dock and out towards the island as quickly as possible to avoid any criticism Mom was about to throw at me. The water was a cold blue almost like ice or maybe glass. Something shimmered beneath the water. Slowly, I reached down below the surface. |