Young Adult
Around the Marigold Round
Summer had almost ended, yet the suffocating heat lingered on. People started moving a little more, awoken from a long coma of days melting on the sand before taking a dip in the ocean. About halfway down a suburban cul-du-sac street, a post-war single-storey house blended in with all the other monotonous houses of the quiet Australian suburb. In approximately 8 minutes you would hear the slamming of front doors and the manic yelling of parents attempting to herd their kids into the family SUV. Just as the ubiquitous post war houses littered the suburbs of the Central Coast, so did the families who would all leave their homes at 8 am sharp for work or school until summer came rolling around again.
By Jasmine Wood5 years ago in Fiction
The Very End
Humanity could not live peacefully with each other anymore; most have died during the Nuclear Fallout or the small wars that lead up to World War 5. I wasn't alive during the other World Wars, but my Grandmother June told me stories, how millions of people died, the anarchy that unfolded, and the famine that followed each war. During the previous World Wars, the countries involved always threatened to nuke each other into abomination but only ever pressed the red button to launch once. A group of Christian terrorists hacked into every country’s nuclear weapon system, they called themselves the Raptures. They were ready for the end of the world and thought it was the only way for humanity's sins to be forgiven was for all of us to die.
By Devin McGurk-Nixon5 years ago in Fiction
A Man Named Summer
It's Summer, and my window is trying the best it can to shield me from the rain. I struggle to find comfort as my feet are freezing, and a draft is coming in from a loose door in the back of our cottage. My brother Jamie hurries to feed the starving flames as I sit and watch him, thankful that we finally have a home to rest in, thanks to momma. Summer is what I will call my future daughter, as I believe this chapter in my life to be the most important, and like a bookmark, I want never to lose this page.
By Aby Gravesend 5 years ago in Fiction
Survival Without a Fight
Most people would give anything to cheat death, but they don’t know what they’re really wishing for. It sounds nice in theory, I’ll give them that. Even I once thought I was lucky to be spared so often – tripping in the uneven street as a badly thrown knife whizzed over my head; landing in a passing cart piled with hay when I fell from the top of a tree; accidentally jamming the lid shut on the pot of boiling water before it toppled onto me… I could go on. Yet in some instances, staying alive isn’t all that wonderful.
By Caitlin Swan5 years ago in Fiction
A New Escape
I stepped through my back door onto the patio. I hoped that once I shut the door I wouldn’t be able to hear the bickering between my mother and father anymore. Sadly I was mistaken. I mean I didn’t know what I was expecting, after all it hadn’t worked any other time. I worked my way to the edge of the patio, and started thinking about what needed to be done today. Not that I cared to think about my chores, I just needed to put my mind towards something else. “Laundry, homework, hanging out with my friend Kass.”
By Nathaniel Mertes5 years ago in Fiction
Finnegan's Marigold
PART ONE 7:30 A.M Dover, New Hampshire The barking alerted us of the imminent invasion. Dark wings swarmed in the sky, attempting to blot out the sunshine. Finn and Rosie were racing the track they carved out around our house, barking at the clouds. The two-legged, red-headed Guardian of the grounds who maintained the perimeter of our land was down on all fours, working in the yard - planting perennials. I had just finished plucking my fourth earthworm from the soil when the barking started. The red-headed Guardian must have created some kind of invisible barrier because while she could roam wherever she wanted, Finn and Rosie were restricted from wandering beyond their track. Luckily for me, the juiciest worms lived in the soil just past the limits of the invisible fence. I needed to quicken my pace.
By Kale Sinclair5 years ago in Fiction
