Monday, May 24, 2010

Cliff Hanger...Part 1 Short Story (from 22nd Street Stories)

Part 1
by A. S. (8th grade)


We are not well known. Within every person there is a secret. It is almost impossible for us to live honest lives. Some of us are able to live honest lives, yet be ignorant of the very truth. That is why I am here to tell you a story: My Story.

1 Old Bonds and New Beginnings

It was another morning here in San Francisco. It was foggy, as usual, so I got my sky blue knitted scarf and thick grey overcoat to put atop my white turtle neck and loose navy blue skinny jeans. My thin bangs covered my eyes as I pulled back my mid-back length hair.

I left my cluttered mess known as my room and I walked down the short hall to the kitchen. Here was my mother, her long brown hair pulled into a messy bun as she read over some of the headlines of the San Francisco Chronicle on the island table, a mug of freshly brewed coffee in her hand. Hearing my gentle steps on the wood floor, my mother gazed upon me with her muddy brown eyes. A smile whipped across her face as I waved to her. “You look awfully nice today Sophia,” she replied to my arrival.

“I decided to wear this, for once, with this weather,” I shrugged with a nonchalant reply. I sauntered over to the fridge for some bread to toast. I placed the bread in the toaster and I went over to my mother.

“You know, you’re going to be late for school,” she replied.

“What are you talking about, I’m perfectly ea–” my phone suddenly vibrated to warn me that it was time to leave for school. “Oh no! I’m going to be late!” I freaked out. I ran off to my room to get my bag and my violin (yeah I play violin, real nice), and then ran back to the kitchen to get my toast as it popped out of the toaster. I ran to the door, biting into my toast, and slipping on my black Vans. I yelled goodbye to my mom as I ran down the stairs to the bottom floor of the apartment and out into the open. I looked back at our window, where my mom waved goodbye to me. She then turned around to go off and read her newspaper.

I lived here on 22nd street, well known for its colorful Victorian houses. My apartment building also had a flair for the Victorian style, painted over with a dull green and edged with a bold red. I sighed, and continued down 22nd street, eating my toast (I had about ten blocks to walk, what time do I have?).

About two minutes later, I reached Mr. Pizza Man and saw a boy wearing dark brown combat boots. His bright cobalt blue eyes met mine. He smiled, his raven hair bouncing along as he got up from his table. He got his dirty brown Jansport backpack and headed out of Mr. Pizza Man, waving to me a salutation. “Greetings, my good friend,” he said with the polite personality he always harbored.

I smiled back to him, clutching onto my messenger bag, “And greetings to you, Avery.”

He looked at my violin case, a sly smile awaiting to reveal a clever remark. “You haven’t been practicing your violin in a while, have you?” he said, looking into a store.

I rolled my eyes, and replied coolly, “And you forgot that we have the final today, right?”

He seemed a bit taken aback, but answered with a small chuckle, “You’ll never change, huh, So-so.”

“We’ve been friends forever. I doubt you wouldn’t be able to tell if I’ve changed, Ave,” I replied, giving him his little nickname.

He shrugged his shoulders, then came up with another idea. “Why don’t we head down to the Bakery before we get to school? My treat.”

“Sure, I’m pretty early today anyway.” We traveled further down 22nd street until we reached Folsom and went south to La Reyna Bakery and Coffee Shop on 24th street. We entered the shop to the aroma of freshly baked bread, donuts, and brewing coffee. Avery walked up to the front to buy us two chocolate donuts while I picked a table close to the window,which was still blocked by racks of bread.

We had about twenty minutes to spare before school started, luckily, at nine AM, so we stayed there and talked about the weekend. Avery’s been my best friend forever. We tell each other everything, but for some reason, I still have the feeling that there is something so mysterious about him. He won’t say a word whenever I try to question him.

At about ten to the bell, we decided to head to school, when suddenly there were many screams outside. I looked out the window, and saw all that all the pedestrians on the street had fallen on the ground, no signs of blood. “Hey Avery,” I said with shock, turning back to him. He was surprisingly calm, along with the other customers in the store. I clenched my fist, and got up from my chair. “I’ll be going now,” I said, but Avery got hold of my wrist.

He wore an expressionless face, looking down on his clenched hand. He looked up, now bearing a fake smile: “Let’s stay here a bit longer.”

“WHY?!” I was taken aback, “Don’t you see what’s going on outside? There’s something knocking the people out cold!?”

Avery’s smile faded; he clearly was unable to continue with the lies. “What are you talking about? I just wanted to stay a bit longer,” he said as he tightened his grasp on my hand, looking out the window and back at me.

I looked around. I couldn’t stand the fact that everyone was calm. Could they not see the problem at hand? I snatched my arm away from Avery’s grasp, fueled with fury. I grabbed my bag and violin case, and went out the door. Avery stood up from his chair and ran up to me. Once outside I looked around. “WHERE ARE YOU?!” I screamed to the fog that covered up my view, “SHOW YOURSELF!”

Avery grabbed onto my shoulder, and pulled me towards him so I would look at him. I saw the anger in his eyes, but why was there worry too? “There’s nothing here,” he ‘reassured’ in an enraged tone.

I raised my arm to get away from him, when a ferocious wind passed through the street, blowing away the fog to reveal a silhouette across the street. My eyes widened in fear as I froze up on the spot. The figure leaped across the street towards me in a great light. I shielded my face from what was to come, unable to move away. I could hear Avery calling out my name. When I closed my eyes for the impact, a voice came to me:

You are the one.

Nothing came. Where was the impact? Nothing. I couldn’t figure this out, it was all going too fast. I opened my eyes to see a small light in this thick darkness, but still heard the voices of Avery and the people on the street awakening as I seemed to have lost consciousness. I smiled at a silly thought.

I was late for school.



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