9/11: A Short Story

I didn't stop screaming until whatever was climbing me hovered in front of my face. Again, a silvery-blue creature in the shape of a snake was poised in a striking position inches from my nose. Light began to pour through the shape like a disco ball. The snake thing drew back and I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for a strike in the face.

"This is 911, what is your emergency?" A desperate eleven year old girl tried to answer the operator's question, but all I could manage were sobs.

Claire Alistar shifts in her seat to cross her right ankle primly over her left and readjusts her large, black sunglasses so that they sit farther down on her nose so that she looks even more unimpressed. "Beck got caught during a job in cicily? Really? Cicily?"

The pain was overpowering, but I couldn't let it take hold. I couldn't let it bury me. My thoughts were racing, but I had to make it go away. I couldn't let it break

“Mi hijo, levantate. Ya nos vamos,” my mother whispered. “Wake up, my son. We’re leaving.” I woke up confused with my eyes still half closed. It was 3 hours past midnight on a morning during the Spring of 2002. “Why is there packed luggage? Where were we going? Are we going on vacation?” I thought. My mother must have seen my confusion, as we boarded the bus and said “Los Estados Unidos.” “The United States.” At only 5 years of age, the only thing I knew about Los Estados Unidos was the tragic events of 9/11 that unfolded 6 months prior to that night. The last thing I remember about that morning was watching my small, emerald-colored house disappear into the distance as our bus drove away.

This story is going to be based off of AHS. It will include some similarities to the show.

"Hey wake up! Get ready and meet me downstairs for breakfast! I got to leave so hurry up!" My mom said. I looked around with my vision still blurry from awakening I saw the clock. I saw 5:45 am on the clock. I hate mornings!

I was just a kid when this happened. A man leaned near me. His eyes where dark red almost black to the whites of his eyes. He was so close his nose was almost touching mine. I felt his breath when he said "we all have it in here. We are all infected."

“It’s good bonding time with Tamaki. You know, that thing I was sent here by my grandmother to do? You act like I chose this. What do you want me to do?” I fumed. I certainly hadn’t wanted to start my morning arguing over the phone with Eric, and I was not feeling refreshed by the experience.

It is now lunch, I have called my mother and she is okay. For lunch I ate a 6” sub from Subway. So far all I have gotten was flirty looks from girls, and obscene gestures from their boyfriends. I honestly don’t know if this day can get any more boring.

I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I

Beating at my sword blade, would be helpless. I will meet him/ With my hands empty-unless his heart

Scuttling innocently through the twisting corridors I bore the same expression; head down, shoulders hunched, avoiding any eye contact - my desperate attempts to deter the despot for one day at least. Despite my efforts, there was no escape, as seemingly within the second of having that naively optimistic thought, a cruel, callous voice demanded I surrender my broach. Fear spiked, as it always did, but with it came something else, an alien emotion ... Looking back now, I see that it must have been the cumulative effect of months of torment that brought me to the realisation that at this point I had reached the nadir of my life. Deriding cackles pierced my ears and this time I recognised the emotion, fury. It burned through my veins, along with the memories of the past to form a feeling of overwhelming power. I met the daggers that would usually invoke terror, and calmly, I said “No.”

And finally the day had come to battle the same gladiator that almost killed me. I walked into the arena happy to be back. Then before I knew it we were fighting. He lunged at me and I parried, he was swinging so fast. The he did one huge strike and missed and I got behind him and stabbed him in the back of the leg, and kicked him on the ground, he got up and my muscles were burning,throbbing. I did the disarming move and hit my sword at his hilt and twisted my blade and his sword came out of his hand. And I finished him

I want to tell you a story, but there is a catch, you can’t stop once you start reading. The point to turn back is gone and now you are under my power. I want you to read this like I experienced it. Feeling trapped, unable to escape, like you 're watching your very essence seep into the floorboards because you feel it 's the only way to stop what 's coming. I want you to experience how I felt as I watched someone close to me, shatter my entire childhood, with their only regards being of themselves.