Love
Locket of Hope
As the awaited detonation occurred; Reese curled up and held on tightly to the heart shaped locket. He could feel the floor underneath him tremble as if it were holding onto something too. The ground shook for another thirty seconds after the initial burst. After a minute of trying to pull himself together, Reese could finally stand up and check his surroundings. As he looked around the small florist shop, he saw the shattered windows, all the arrangements and vases all over the floor. This made him distraught about his love and hoped she was safe. Reese finally decided to walk out of the florist possessing a single rose. As he walked down the street, he saw all the devastation made by the nuke, cars up in flames, bodies of stragglers and even more destroyed businesses. He arrived at 25th street to his family’s general store and glancing into in it he sees all the shelves tipped over. He then thinks about his mother and father; he checks his phone…no service. Glances to the left outside of the door on the sidewalk and sees a bike that was in decent shape. He hopped on the bike and rides to his house. For the hour that he is pedaling he feels his father’s presence and remembers the times when they would ride bikes through the trails in the mountains; through all the streams and over that bridge going across the river. He hoped a month ago would not have been the last time he spent time with his father, but it certainly felt like it. By the time he got to the house, Reese was depressed and anxious to see his parents. As he pedals into the driveway and hops off, he sees a tree that landed through the middle of the house, laying through the living room, kitchen and his parents’ bedroom. He started sprinting to the front door that was untouched, he opened to find his mother kneeling down, sobbing. Laying in front of her was Reese’s father, taken by one of the rafters. Reese kneels beside his mother and holds her. After a while Reese leaves his mother there and heads back onto the bike. Searching for his girlfriend, he pedaled until he got to Briar Lynn High School and the sight of the building made Reese uneasy, but without much hesitation and a good grip on the locket, he ran into the front doors and down every hall. Until he heard alarming voices coming from the direction of the library, he then rushes to down the English hall to the last doors on the left. He then barged through the doors and he saw her, with a bookshelf on top of her and her study group trying to assist. Reese then rushed over to them and served with every muscle in his body to move the shelf. As Jane was freed, she had a glow in her eyes and as Reese helped her get onto her feet, he had a huge grin on his face, although Jane had a discomforting smile and sharp pain in her right arm. They stood there staring into each other's eyes, in tears, they embraced each other. After the minute of contact Reese stepped back and looked around… no one was there he then asked, “Where did they go?” and she replied,” Who? We are the only ones here.” Reese stood there looking around, confused. After a couple minutes of trying to figure out what happened he finally looked at Jane and said, "Jane... I am so glad you are okay...", he hands her the locket and the rose, "This is for you." he added. Jane struggled to open the locket, so he opens it for her. Reese hands it back, "I love you, Jane." She blushed and smirked as she gazed upon the small picture of them from their first date on the top of the Ferris wheel. She then looks up to him and says, "I love you too, Reese." He then grabs her by the waist and pulls her in for a kiss and she drops the heart shaped locket...
By Christen Schiel5 years ago in Fiction
Heart In A Locket
Jackson was walking threw a field of corn stumbling, tripping over roots and stems wondering if he was ever to make it out the other side of the field. Shortly after having the thought he was greatly lost he saw a gap, the corn field widely opened onto a sea of lush green grass with an abandoned town not to far down. "Well now that is a relief, hopefully i am lucky and stumble across some fresh water" Jackson sighed to himself. He made his way down to the abandoned town, as he walked threw the streets a subtle eeriness crept over him.
By Kieran Johnson5 years ago in Fiction
The Walk
Major woke that morning as he had every morning, to the screams of the sick, dying and the injured. The sky above him scorched red, a reflection of the burning seas below them. This was the thirteenth camp he'd slept in since the day it rained fire. No one saw it coming, even with all the advances in technology, scientists watching the skies. The asteroid broke up once it hit Earth's atmosphere and scattered to every continent and hit the Pacific, Atlantic and Indian oceans, setting everything a blaze that the impact didn't kill. The last six months had been just as hard as the first six days after it happened. Everyone was cut off from each other, left to their own devices to survive. Countries around the world could barely support their own citizens let alone help anyone anywhere else. As time went on it became more than apparent that help would be little to none until it was just none and they all were on their own. One did whatever was necessary in order to live to see another day.
By Gail Alston5 years ago in Fiction
No Matter What
Grungy is the word that comes to mind to describe so many things in my life right now. Since 2016, life in North America, as we know it, has taken a turn for the worse. Here we are, only twenty years later, and the entire planet is being wrought with despair because of the ineptness during that regime. Although nothing seems to matter anymore, it seems there’s this hologramistic hope deep in my heart that tells me she is still alive…somewhere.
By RON ANDERSON5 years ago in Fiction
Him
I woke up again today. I find myself counting down the days until I don’t. Well, that's not accurate, I’m really just counting up to it, I guess. Unlike the cans of soup and old milk cartons I find throughout the storage rooms that have long been forgotten, I don’t have an expiration date. No ‘Best By’ mark, no stamp displaying the day I’ll belong in the bin. I roll over onto my side, the soft blankets moving with my body, cocooning me in cool, white cotton. My nose brushes against the nose of my bedfellow, our eyelines meeting. His eyes cast a dull glow, and he doesn’t respond to my movements. I wonder if he has one. An expiration date.
By Storm S. Cone5 years ago in Fiction
Mountain and Sea
Where there is land and sea, there is life. Where there is life there are obstacles. Where there are humans, there are problems. History has a funny way of repeating itself. War over power and love is all that’s left to silence the urge to live. Stories of ancestors that used to hike and govern all Terra was all that was taught once, dreams for kids to run off and explore the horizons of their island, this was the only way to live to the fullest while longing to be old enough to travel the long sea for possibilities of newer faces. However, there were borders prohibited to enter and explore, clans where created for a reason. “If we all would get along, there would be more fights, staring the new era of another apocalypses” explained the elders. It was known in the villages that in the past, nuclear bombs were launched in order to start over, all due to the fact that powerful people had rivals and out of control democracy. It was taught that the few that were left on the habited island, were doing the right thing. Either have your clan to protect and feed, or hand it over to a better warrior, or for the relatedness of the story, hand it over for wrongdoings that make you underserving of a community.
By Monica Ramirez5 years ago in Fiction
I'm Here
It's been so long since I've seen colors; the blue sky, birds, trees, smelled a flower or felt human touch, but I remember you as though it was yesterday. Your smile and the way your eyes crinkled, your one dimple that would appear as your eyes all but closed when you'd walk toward me grinning from ear to ear. Your beautiful brown skin, so soft it felt like heaven, so warm, so smooth, tattoos adorning both your arms, never quite completed, but still a part of you. Your voice, nurturing, low and soft always comforted me.
By Celeste Barbier5 years ago in Fiction
The Last Pilgrimage
The small notebook seemed to weigh heavier on him every day. Maybe it was the weight of the tale scrawled on its pages. Maybe it was the weight of the new bookmark and what it meant. Maybe every insignificant weight felt an immovable burden to him now. It didn’t matter much; it’d be the last night he wrote in it anyways.
By Alex Widovic5 years ago in Fiction
