|
Post by Mistress Wisewings on Aug 19, 2007 16:04:55 GMT -6
This is a collection of all my short stories that have no chapters
|
|
|
Post by Mistress Wisewings on Aug 19, 2007 16:05:15 GMT -6
Fog
The soft gray tendrils of smoke danced across the lake’s glassy surface, in the beginnings of a morning fog. Slowly, those tendrils multiplied and entwined together, becoming denser and darker. The fog spills over the lake and unto the dewy grass. From the grass, the dark gray cloud filled streets, obscuring the view of the road ahead. Drivers drive carefully, attempting to not cause an accident on their morning commute. As the sun rises overhead, the fog becomes a lighter color but still remains thick. The fog dies as the morning slowly diminishes into the afternoon hours.
|
|
|
Post by Mistress Wisewings on Aug 19, 2007 16:06:08 GMT -6
Forgiveness
Giggles were heard from the floor above me. I figured that my housemates had brought over their friends from college and were talking/gossiping about the latest boys. I hung my house keys on the correct hook and hung my coat. Then I heard a series of bangs. My eyes traveled up to the ceiling and I wondered if someone was having a little too much fun.
I ascended the stairs, keeping my hand on the railing. My two-inch heels were being a pain as I walked up the stairs. Ladies, never try the stairs in your heels. It can seriously kill your feet and twist your ankles til they break. I finally came to the door where I heard the sounds coming from. It was my bedroom.
Before I opened the door, I briefly wondered who decided to have sex on my bed. Sure, my bed is the softer and bigger beds of the house, but no one goes in there unless I say so. After that thought, my hand found the wooden knob and I turned it, swinging the door open.
At seeing who was on my bed, I froze. All of my organs, especially my brain and heart, stopped working for a second. My fiance, Caleb Mitchells, was on my bed with a skinny red-haired no-one.
"Rachel?" Caleb asked, going pale. The red-head was spooning him, looking flustered but looked comfortable.
I stood in the doorway to my room, frozen in shock. When my brain finally decided to kickstart again, I did the one thing I wanted to do since I saw him there. I ran.
"Rachel!"
I could hear him calling out my name, but I never stopped. That voice which used to melt my insides when he spoke my name no longer affected me. All that I knew was I had to get out of the house. So I snatched my coat and keys and hurried out the door.
Just as I got to my silver sudan, Caleb was standing out on the front porch, wearing nothing but his jeans. His deliciously thick golden hair was mused and stuck up in all directions. I tried not to glance at his perfect pectorals or his six-pack abs. It helped to be mad at someone when you didn't look at them. Tears started to sting at my eyes, but I never let them out.
"Rachel," panted Caleb, descending the stairs slowly, as if he was approaching a wild animal. "It's not what you think...."
Finally, I did meet his eyes. My eyes flashed angrily. "It's not what I think? Oh, so you weren't having sex with some beautiful, leggy female in my bed? God, Caleb. I never took you for fooling around with women while engaged."
"I don't fool around, Rach." He was only a few feet away from her, but he didn't move forward. "She is nothing to me."
I frowned. "Are you drunk or something? High on drugs?"
"No! You know me better than that."
"Apparently, I don't know you as well I think I do." I opened my car door.
His large tan hands found their way to my shoulders and I stiffened. Once upon a time, those hands would have felt so good on my shoulders and I would have melted back into his embrace. I shook off those hands and stepped into my car.
"Please don't go."
That simple plea had me looking up at my fiance. A lump grew in my throat at the sight of my own tears reflected in his deep midnight blue eyes. For the first time that night, I found myself second-guessing my actions. My anger had vanished and guilt replaced it. If I ended up leaving, I knew I would break Caleb. I knew he loved me very deeply. He kept telling me for the two years we were a couple that he loved me. Everyone who saw us together could see the love that shined through his eyes. He adored me. He worshipped the very ground I walked on.
I drew a deep breath and hesitated. The tears that welled up in his eyes flowed down his prominent cheekbones. I felt a strong urge to reach my hand out and wiped the salty tears from his cheeks. It hurt me that he was hurting.
"Please forgive me, darling. I will always love you no matter what happens. Yes, I was drunk but I sobered up when you came in." His hands carded through my fine hair as the tears continued to fall. My own threatened to fall as well, but I held them back. "Give me the chance to make it up to you. You won't regret your choice."
I swallowed and took a few breaths. I needed to word my answer carefully. "I love you too, Caleb. I will give you another chance, but if you cheat again I will leave. It hurt me to see you holding another woman in your arms."
I found myself enveloped in his strong arms and his face buried itself in my hair. My hair grew wet, but I didn't care. All I cared about was the man who could make my heart swell with love. I scolded myself for even thinking of leaving this caring, loving man.
|
|
|
Post by Mistress Whiskers on Sept 4, 2007 2:21:03 GMT -6
I like this story.
|
|
|
Post by Mistress Wisewings on Oct 25, 2007 1:06:30 GMT -6
thanks
|
|
|
Post by Mistress Whiskers on Oct 28, 2007 22:56:00 GMT -6
yup
|
|
|
Post by Mistress Wisewings on Jan 13, 2008 12:12:59 GMT -6
Innocence Lost
Crimson red roses were clutched in the hands of a little girl in a white dress. Her pale complexion revealed the severity of her wounds; the deep color of her bruises, the long gashes that nails created, the depth of her open wounds. Vibrant green eyes were forever closed, never to live out the rest of her childhood, never to see her stepfather standing over her with hatred in his dark eyes.
The girl’s mother wept openly as she stared at the motionless body of her daughter. If she had known her husband had been an abuser, she never would’ve let him near her only daughter.
The girl’s father sat at the furthest from the crowd, unnoticed. Tears fell unchecked down his cheeks. His only daughter was gone. Gone was the beautiful seven-year-old who had honey gold curls and bright green eyes, who was so innocent and pure and so full of life.
The girl’s oldest brother laid one more crimson rose into the open coffin. He briefly squeezed her cold hands and a few tears slid out from his eyelids. His twin pulled him into a rough embrace and the two let their grief surface.
The girl’s stepfather was found guilty of child abuse and was sentenced to life in prison. To those who knew the young girl, the punishment wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to truly make her killer realize what he took away.
In the papers the next day, a headline caught the nation’s attention and their hearts went out to the girl’s family as they read the article entitled,
“Innocence Lost.”
|
|
|
Post by Mistress Wisewings on Jan 13, 2008 12:22:59 GMT -6
A Vampire's Lament
I slip into shadow, staring out as I watch humanity continue like nothing was wrong, that a monster was hiding out, watching them like a wolf would to a herd of sheep, saliva dripping from its fangs. Oh how I ached to grab one of the mortals and sink my fangs into his or her's neck, feeling the thick liquid draining from them, feeling them struggle weakly in my grasp. It was a rush, drinking fresh blood from a mortal, draining them of their life, giving me life. The only side effect was the memories of the mortal flashing across my mind. It was the only way I could keep up with the technology of the twenty-first century.
I try to abstain from drinking from too many mortals or the humans would be suspicious. Thank God there was such a thing called blood banks or else vampires would have been discovered years ago. It wasn't as fresh as they claimed but it still sated our lust. Or so we thought.
My fangs lengthen in the desire for the hunt, to chase my prey into a dead end and drinking their life source, taking in everything that made them live and breathe. I turned away, trying to will my fangs away. I would not bite another human. I would not have another human die just for me to live. I was perfectly fine with the blood banks.
Glancing one last time at the crowded streets, I slipped away, sticking to the shadows.
|
|
|
Post by Mistress Whiskers on Jan 13, 2008 18:43:44 GMT -6
Good strories.
|
|
|
Post by Mistress Wisewings on Aug 7, 2008 9:36:00 GMT -6
thanks, hun
|
|
|
Post by Mistress Fangs on Aug 7, 2008 11:29:06 GMT -6
cooly
|
|
|
Post by Mistress Whiskers on Aug 7, 2008 23:26:08 GMT -6
^^
|
|