A collection of Short Stories
2Y at Gefion Gymnasium presents: A Collection of Short Stories
A collection of Short Stories
A collection of Short Stories Table of Contents: 1. Anna Katharina Bellmann, Maria Kregler Gotil: Late at Night
2. Anne Søgaard Pedersen, Olivia Hjulsager Mathiesen, Stine Nørklit Lønborg: Late at Night
3. Hanin Khatib, Mohamad Assad Al Jayyal, Mona Mansour Hariri Rahma El-Gourfti: Late at Night
4. Isabella Diana Hansen, Haifa Haider Mohammad: Late at Night
5. Farah Hleihel, Nafiso Hussein Hassan Ali: Late at Night
6. Anne Sofie Fruerskov Kirkegaard, Rikke Andersen: Late at night
7. Nusaiba El Khaiyat, Sarah Adb-Albaqi: A Damned Sisterhood
8. Nikolaj Graves, Gustav Lundholm Nielsen, William Popon Seidenfaden: Late at night
9. Alan-Aliser Ötûnc, Sofus Rasmus Clausen: Late at Night
10. Chadi Ali Chebib, Tarek El Mazaii: The short story
Editor: Bertha Rex Coley, Gefion Publishing, 2016
A collection of Short Stories
Anna Katharina Bellmann, Maria Kregler Gotil: Late at Night
The clock struck midnight and I heard the church bells ringing. I realized it was late and it was time to go home. I took leave of my friends and left the little apartment. It was a dark and cold November night. The streets were empty. The wind sighed through the trees and the rain hit my face as I approached the park. I walked at the small path without any light from the streetlamps. A branch snapped behind me. I turned around and saw nothing. I continued walking through the park as I increased my speed and my heart started pounding. I had a feeling that someone pursued me. A shadow was seen in the treeline. Once again I increased my speed. A bigger path with streetlamps appeared in front of me. When I walked down the path I saw a man walking just two paces behind me. I started running. I looked back and he was running as well. We approached the subway tunnel. We ran down in the tunnel. I sincerely hoped to meet someone. Now I know it was a big mistake. We ran through the tunnel with broken mirrors on the wall. He started to catch up with me. My heart started pounding so hard. I literally thought it would jump out of my chest. Suddenly i felt a hand on my shoulder. My whole body was freezing. I was terrified, as I slowly turned around and saw nothing. I almost forgot where I was going. I heard a voice saying “I’m sorry miss, but I think you dropped your wallet.” I turned around and saw a man. “Thank you,” I said. Maybe it was all just inside my head. All I wanted right now was to get home, where I knew I was safe. I turned to my left and walked up the stairs to the train station above me. There was nothing but silence. I started thinking if I should take the next train home. Suddenly I could see the man following me again. Maybe he just had to take same train as me. He started approaching me with slowly mysterious steps. I could see he had a knife in his hand. I tried to run, but there was nowhere to run. He was only to steps away now. I saw the train
A collection of Short Stories
coming, but I already knew it was too late. I was lying at the cold ground with a knife in my throat, and my blood was running. It was the last time I ever had human interaction.
A collection of Short Stories
Anne Søgaard Pedersen, Olivia Hjulsager Mathiesen, Stine Nørklit Lønborg: Late at Night
I remember that night very clearly. It was a cold winter night and everything was dark and frozen. The only light shining was a vague gleam from the full moon rising upon the sky. The night was stormy and the only sound I could hear was the howling from the wind that shook the trees. The moonlight created long, dark shadows from the naked trees that never stood still and all I could see in those shadows was scary creatures with long, sharp claws. I wanted to go home, it did not feel safe being outside in the deserted night. I needed someone to talk to, to feel safe. That was why I called my friend Carol but I was so far into the forest that I had no signal. My battery was low, which made me feel alone and isolated from everything. I took a shortcut through the forest, but now I know that I should never have changed my path. If I had stuck to the road I might have made it all the way home, but I did not. As I walked through the forest I heard a strange sound that made my heart pound in my chest. I slowly turned around, but there was nothing to see. I started walking again, but this time in a fast pace. I could not shake off the feeling of being watched, but I told myself that nothing would happen – that I was safe in my hometown. The sound from my footsteps filled more and more in my head and for a while that was the only thing I could hear. The sounds of my footsteps were interrupted by a message from my phone that reminded me that I only had 1% battery left. I felt so alone. That was when I felt a breath on my neck and the goose bumps spread all over my body. What I did not know at that time was that it would be the last human reaction I ever had. It is a cold morning in December. You are sitting at the table drinking coffee with your family. You have always been a family guy, but no one knows the real you. No one knows who you are,
A collection of Short Stories
when you are alone. But most importantly you do not know that I know everything about you. After you have finished your coffee and send your children off to school you go to work, as was it just another Wednesday. But you know that it is going to be a busy day. You know what case will be lying at your desk with a missing person. And furthermore you know that the missing person is me. But you put on the same fake smile as always and pretends that you are just as much in the dark as everyone else. As you go out to your car you see that your tires are filled with mud that has splashed up on the side of the car. You remind yourself that you need to drive by a carwash on your way to work, even though it will make you late. No one from work can see how dirty your car is. It will just make them wonder where you have been and that is the last thing you want for them to have on their mind. As you go through the doors to the police station you say hi to Annie the receptionist and greet a bunch of others with a smile. You have always been popular at work. If only people knew the real you, you would not be the one who arrest the criminals, it would be you who were behind bars. As you enter your office your boss lets you in on the Lucie McNamara-case. As if you do not already know everything there is to know about the case. You and your partner superintendent Meeks drive out to the crime scene in the forest where you take lots of pictures as you investigate. You make sure that your partner can not see you as you take the lighter from the pocket of your jacket and throw it on the ground. Just as the lighter lands among leaves in the muddy forest ground you yell to your partner; “I have found something. Come take a look�. When Meeks sees the lighter you grab the camera with your gloved hands and take some more pictures. Then you take the lighter down in a plastic bag, because that is the procedure with evidence in a crime scene due to the possibility that there are fingerprints on the lighter. You know that there will be found fingerprints on the lighter, but you also know that they will not be yours. That is very important for your plane to work. The fingerprints that will be found on the lighter is from the hermit Mr. Reynolds who had nothing to do with my murder. But that is all a part of your master plan. That is how you always get away with your crimes. By making sure that someone else takes the blame.
A collection of Short Stories
Hanin Khatib, Mohamad Assad Al Jayyal, Mona Mansour Hariri Rahma El-Gourfti: Late at Night
It was a cold night in September, the weather was misty, the wind was blowing from all directions, the streetlights were extinguished and the light of the full moon was shining. The dark-eyed pale young girl, Catharina, was on her way home from work. It had been a tiring long day, and Catharina just wanted to relax under her duvet with a big soft pillow to watch a romantic-drama. Therefore, she took a short-cut through the old cemetery. The cemetery was Catharina’s safe place, where both her parents were buried. Halfway through the cemetery she suddenly heard some noises. She did not know either it was the sound of the wind or the sound of a human. Catharina looked confusingly around, but continued and was almost through the cemetery. Suddenly a human-shadow showed up on the lawn. Catharina took a few steps and stopped. She looked behind herself to see if anyone was there, but there was no one. She continued but stopped after hearing some heavy footsteps that came from behind. Again, Catharina checked if there were anyone, but there was no sign of a human. She continued but stopped when a tall dark-haired pale man grabbed her arm in a hard movement. A scream came out of her tiny little body. She looked him deep in his big grey eyes, and yelled: “Who are you?!” 1 day earlier The sun is shining, the streets are full of happy people enjoying the weather, and then there is me… I am on my way to my fantastic job as a waiter, and since the weather is good today, I thought it would be a good idea to take the longer way to work. I can hear the sound of kids playing and having fun. It reminds me of my childhood…at least the bit of it I have left in my memory. But that is not necessary. The kids look like flying birds. So free and so careless. Those
A collection of Short Stories
happy faces and their colorful clothes. What a beautiful view. The last time I played on a playground was in an age of 5. I remember that day very clear. I was with my best friend. Yeah…I do not know where he is now, but he was perfect. A perfect best friend. We always had a great time together – especially in the playground. We used to play hide and seek, and he always found me. Anyways, I need to work now. 5 hours later She is finally done. Her pale and young face. Her dark beautiful eyes. She is amazing… and she is on her way home. Those long legs moving so fast. ”Catharina… Catharina”, I whispered. She is looking around. I am close now…I have her…
A collection of Short Stories
Isabella Diana Hansen, Haifa Haider Mohammad: Late at Night
It was the time of the year in 1988, where our garden was so pretty and lovely filet with beautiful flowers. I was digging a hole for my mother so we could plant a juicy apple tree. The sun was burning on my back, and I was sweaty. While I was digging I heard the most beautiful laugh, so I could not resist looking up. I was like hypnotized when I looked at her. She was wearing a white dress and her big cheeks were red like an apple you cannot resist. The way she moved reminded my of a little dove, she was so fragile and looked peacefully. She was playing with a little dog, and you could tell that she loved it a lot. The sound of my mothers voice yelling pulled me out of my trance. It was time for dinner. The dinner was always served on the broken round table in the dark living room. It was always only me and my mother, and it felt so lonely in this room, just like my empty soul. During the meals we were always quite, but this time my mother broke the silence. “Please don’t do it again… Our garden is already full.” I could not believe what I just heard. I needed to get away, so I ran out as fast as I could. The beautiful girl sat down in the grass, and it almost sounded like she was crying. I looked around to see what was going on, and at first I could not see it… But then I realized the dog was gone. I walked slowly towards her and sat down on the green grass beside her. “I have seen your dog in the woods“. “ My dog, have you really seen it??? Please help me’’ she said while sobbing. Her sweet little voice wanted me to do it and I could not control it.
A collection of Short Stories
We walked slowly side by side. She asked how far away the dog was and I said it was on the other side of the rise. I started to panic, because there was no dog on the other side of the rise. The rise was coming closer and I could feel the sweat. We were almost at the top of the rise, and I took her hand. She looked up at me with scared eyes and asked how old I was, I would lie but I could not so I told her the truth “I’m 47”.
A collection of Short Stories
Farah Hleihel, Nafiso Hussein Hassan Ali: Late at Night
It was late at night, 1998. It was raining and the wind was blowing. One of the large boughs broke off a tree. A woman was walking home from her best friends house, she was exhausted and felt cold. She did not feel like taking a taxi because she wanted to get some air on her way home. She was walking with music in her ears and could not hear her surroundings. Suddenly she felt like she was not alone. She looked back to find out that she was alone. Then a man came and was walking by her side. He wanted to talk to her but she refused and tried to walk faster. She was scared and looked desperately around for other people. She could not get rid of him, so she started running. She ran past more than ten houses before she ran into a dead man in the middle of the road. The woman stopped and looked back at the man and saw that he had a knife with blood and was walking slowly against her. She realized that the blood was from the dead man. She thought to herself that she should have taken a taxi instead. The woman was chocked and started walking back and fell over the dead body. When she looked up at the man the last thing she saw was the man’s stone cold smile and felt the knife going through her chest.
A collection of Short Stories
Later that night her husband came home from work and was expecting her to be there. He started calling her name but heard no response. He got worried and looked around the house to find out that she never came home. He found her address book and called her friends and the neighbors. No one knew where she was. He called her best friend for the third time because she was not picking up the phone. When she finally picked it up he asked her where his wife was, she told him that his wife left her home several hours ago. And that she wanted to walk home to get some fresh air instead of taking a taxi. She was also worried because she told her to give her a call when she got home, and never got one. He got a feeling that something was not right, because she always kept him updated on where she used to go. He hung up the phone, picked up his jacket, and took a photograph of her from her thirtieth birthday and stormed out the door to find her on the streets. To begin with he wanted to find her by himself instead of calling the police. He was looking for several hours at, every hill, rock, tree, and knocked on all the houses he passed on his path. But did not find the slightest sign of her. He started panicking and finally decided to call the police. It could end as a horrible ending to a beautiful marriage, he thought. The police told him that there was nothing more he could do to help with finding his wife and he got the options to either, get home and wait till something come up there or he could wait at the police station. He chose to go home. He came home and began to drink a cold beer and sat there in utter frustration. Two days later the police showed up at his house and told him that they had no luck in finding his wife. No sign of kidnap or murder anywhere. They found a dead man on the road close to his wife’s best friend’s home but there was no sign of her. He began to pray for god to bring her home safely but appeared to lose the faith in getting her home safe and felt like his whole life shattered before him. A week later he lost contact to everyone because he preferred to be at home all day, waiting for something magical to happen and be able to finally see his wife. She was the light to his darkness, the calmness to his chaos, the success to his failures, and the hope to his despair. She meant everything to him and he promised to keep her safe. He failed to keep that promise and thought that it was not fair for her to be out there in the wilderness, probably alone and cold, while he was at home, and safe. Three weeks later the police lost the hope in finding her and gave up. It seemed to be a waste of their time and money. They stopped the investigation and came to the conclusion that she was dead. Her husband was devastated and kept believing that she was still out there, alive. He could not bear the thought of his one and true love being dead. He just was not ready for it. He ended up taking a break from work and everything to be home, hoping for his wife to come in, kiss him and tell him that she is okay. One day he suddenly heard someone at the front door. He slowly walked over there and yelled ´´hello´´ the person responded ´´it’s me´´ he recognized the voice and opened the door in a rush. There she was. His wife was standing right there. He started crying and pinching himself to see if she really was back and alive. She was. He could not believe his eyes so he gave her the tightest hug ever and would not let go. They went back inside and he made her some warm coffee and warmed up some of the leftover food he had for dinner. In the meantime she took a warm and relaxing shower. When she came back down to the kitchen he asked her why she was gone for that long, and she responded that some guy stabbed her in the middle of the road after he killed another man. She fainted, or died from the massive blood loss and woke up at a farmer’s house
A collection of Short Stories
in the middle of the woods, very far from the city. She still has no idea exactly what happened that night, but since that day the man that brought her to the woods took care of her and gave her life. Her husband had the impression that something was wrong, because there was no scar from the stab. He thought that she was keeping something from him. But he did not ask her because he wanted her to be well rested before jumping into all the questions he was asking himself for the last three month. Two mornings later, he thought it was time to get answers. He realized that she changed and that she was not the woman he married six month ago. Something was bothering her and he did not know what it was. He thought that she had some traumatizing months in the woods but that was not quite it. It was something else. He just could not get a finger on what it was. After dinner he suddenly asked her, why she was gone for that long? Why did she not get back home when she woke up? Why did she stay there, knowing that he was worried sick about her? Just why? She stood there, in utter silence and began to cry. She cried and cried and cried. The tears were like an unstoppable waterfall. He hugged her. Very tight and did not let go until she stopped crying. He wiped the tears off of her face and slowly directed her to the couch, so they could talk quietly. Then she told him everything. Every single little detail of what happened out there in the woods. Apparently a man helped her off the streets while she was bleeding out and fed her his blood. He then left her at the farmer’s house to rest. When she woke up she was feeling exhausted and had no desire to run away so she just sat there, waiting for the man to get back and explain what was going on. The man came back with a dead deer and drained the blood in a bucket. Then he went in to the kitchen, picked up a wine glass, poured the blood in there and mixed it up with some vodka. To make the taste of blood go away. He then explained to her that she almost died when he found her and he had to feed her his blood. Because he is a vampire and the blood of a vampire cures every disease, every broken bone and even prevents you from dying. That’s why when he fed her his blood, she died with the vampire blood in her blood circulation, and that lead to her transforming into a vampire. When she found out, she was in shock. She could not make the fact that she now is something supernatural sink. That is why she did not come home for that long. She had to let that process and learn how to survive as a vampire and control her desire to drink human blood. She also had to adjust to all these heightened senses and emotions. So she agreed to stay for a while and learn everything from a vampire. She was not fully ready but she could not control the urge to get back and see her husband again. So she told herself and the vampire that helped her that she was ready to go back home. But she found out that she was not quite ready when she saw her husband, which is why she was acting weird the past couple of days. He found all of that very hard to believe, but she has never lied to him before, so he trusted her. He wanted to help her through this rough time and started suggesting what to do and how to move on, but she would rather go to sleep. The next morning her husband woke up and his wife was not by his side. He went through every room in the house and could not find her. He thought that he scared her off with all the suggestions he made that night, but that was not the case. On the dinner table he saw a letter written by his wife, with her wedding ring in a box beside it. The letter said:
´´Dear Micheal
A collection of Short Stories
It was really nice being with you again for the past couple of days, but they have been really tough on me. As a vampire my new nature is to drink blood. And I could almost not resist the urge of ripping your throat out the other night. That is when I knew that I could not live like this anymore. I could not live, knowing that there was a risk for me to go crazy and kill you. Every night I was able to hear the blood rush through your veins. And that is the biggest downside of being a vampire. Not being able to live comfortable amongst your loved ones. So the easiest way for me is to live amongst the other vampires and make them teach me how to embrace my new nature. It is either this or dying. And I am not ready to die yet. I hope you will be alright Michael. This is not how I pictured our future to be like. I do not want you to look for me. I promise you I will be fine. Love Louisa´´ This time he lost her for good. But he was not ready to give up yet. This fight is far from over.
A collection of Short Stories
Anne Sofie Fruerskov Kirkegaard, Rikke Andersen: Late at night
The only sound she could hear was the voice of her own footsteps. Her blood-red dress was not the perfect match for a late night and she felt a bit uncomfortable. The cold winter-wind froze her to the marrow. Her small, thin shoes made it hard to walk on the path of sharp gravels. She felt safe in the beginning, but she knew that halfway through the light would begin to gleam and she would be completely covered in darkness. What she did not know was that she would soon forget that she had worn the uncomfortable dress and the thin shoes, because they are not made to run. Nevertheless, she continued because she had a little flashlight in her purse. Unexpectedly the lights turned off. She pulled out her flashlight, but it did not work… She looked around. She thought she saw a shadow moving around between the trees. Her pulse was rising. She quickly closed her eyes. She hoped it was only her imagination. She slowly opened her eyes again. Now, the only thing she saw was the shadows of the trees caught by the moon. She took a deep breath, trying to control her pulse. She wished that she were sitting in her living room in front of her cozy and warm fireplace at home. Suddenly she heard an irregularity in her footstep rhythm. It sounded like someone was following her. “Another imagination” she thought, but she still began to walk faster. A cloud passed the moon and it darkened. There was only the sound of her own footsteps now. She turned around, but luckily there were nothing unusual to see. When she turned her head back, she faced a faceless man… It was not my intention to follow her and scare her. The first time I saw her was on the dance floor. She was standing in the middle of the dance floor right under the disco ball and everybody around her looked like shadows compared to her. She made me hypnotized. When she was
A collection of Short Stories
about to leave I could not resist following her in the dark night. I tried to keep a distance where it was possible to watch her without being seen. I was attracted to her long, fragile and slim body and her red short dress made her irresistible. As she was standing in the moonlight with the cold wind in her blond hair, she looked like a death angel. When she began to speed up I could not control myself and I began to run too. Before I knew it, I was chasing her. Suddenly she stopped and looked around. I was afraid that she had seen me. Luckily, I wore a green sweater and dark trousers so I was almost camouflaged in the dark surroundings. I walked closer and closer. When she turned her head back we faced each other. The high wind made it hard for me to see her, so I had to pull a black lock of my hair away to look into her beautiful blue eyes with love. But the only feeling reflected in her eyes was fear. It made me furious. Before I knew it, I had grabbed her arm, forced her on her knees and broke her neck. It was easier than expected like cracking a pencil. “What have I done!� I thought loudly. I dropped the body. The moonlight lit her up and I began to run far, far away. The last sight of her I saw was blood running from her nose.
A collection of Short Stories
Nusaiba El Khaiyat, Sarah Adb-Albaqi: A Damned Sisterhood
What a tremendous and fabulous midnight. Perilous footsteps. Alone in this frightful darkness, where no creature is to find. She does not notice anything. To go home, there is no other way than entering the graveyard. The place, where it said to be haunted… But the question is: is this really a myth? Walking on the calm road, she has a feeling of unfounded fear. It was a moment, where she has nothing to protect herself with. Merely the sound of a sharp axe soaking in the deep atmosphere. Was this her destiny? I knew it was because of that dark, damned mirror. After it changed colour; from the pure, snow-white colour to nothing else than this ominous colour called black. And then she said that it would bring me good luck? Well, she – or I – definitely got it WRONG.
A collection of Short Stories
The lovely, petite mirror was a gift from her best friend, Stephanie. Stephanie gave her the gift on her birthday. I always said that I would through it away and try NOT to let it break. This mirror caused the fear of death in me. This mirror became the curse of my life. A sunny day, I decided to hang out with my relatives. It was not a normal day; I had a displeased feeling that something was going to happen. At that moment, I did not know why. This became clear to me at night. She entered her silent home. The light was off and the home was dark. Although the footsteps ended, she felt that something was wrong‌ But as she took her shoes off, the sound of the footsteps became deeper and deeper. She looked quickly behind her, but no one was to find. Maybe it was her imagination, she thought. So she decided to ignore these murky footsteps. She was thirsty, so she had to drink water first. Entering the kitchen, she realized, that she had trash from yesterday, which she did not throw away. She went out with the door open. Again, the sound of footsteps began to appear again. But this time, it was just her neighbour, who came home from a party. The thought that there was not something to worry about, made her feel calmed. Back home, she turned the music on and went to the kitchen to cook and prepare food. Mike was still at work. But this time, the kitchen was all messy. Someone has been here, she thought. She ran up to her bedroom. Nervous and scared, she checked her safe box on the bottom shelf in the wardrobe. Surprisingly, the box was on the first shelf with all her valuables. She was puzzled and frightened, so she took her phone and wanted to call the police. So she ran down, out the door while she held the phone. And the moment, she turned around, she saw a tall, dark and terrifying figure. This figure was a dark-haired woman with snow-white face and pointed nails. She was wearing a long, white dress: like an angel. It was Stephanie, her late best friend; her closest soul friend. I wanted to hug her, but held me back by fear. Furthermore, I could not feel that she was kind; especially because she had an axe in her hand. She seemed rather hostile. Suddenly she screamed: "YOU HAVE STOLEN MY BELOVED HUSBAND, MIKE!" Stephanie has apparently risen from the dead. And suddenly, she swung with the axe in cold blood and cut her sought friend's head; the blood seeped out and half of the head was lying on the ground. Unfortunately, this was my destiny.
A collection of Short Stories
Nikolaj Graves, Gustav Lundholm Nielsen, William Popon Seidenfaden: Late at night
You will sit at a restaurant staring out the window waiting for her. The restaurant will be crowded, loud. You will hear silverware clinking, babies screaming, but the only thing you will notice is your heartbeat and drops of sweat covering your face. A radio will be turned on. It will say that the wall is almost finished. The wall that will divide it all. You feel your heartbeat raising. It feels like it could smash your chest every second. You will wait till midnight, when the restaurant is empty and the darkness has made the city fall asleep. But you will not be asleep; you will be more alive than you have ever been. She will walk out of that big grey building on the corner across the street. The same grey building that you know so well. She will be dead tired from her 12-hour shift. Back at home her children will lie peacefully in their beds, not knowing that their mother will soon meet a man that will change their lives forever. Day 1 “ … decided to build it. The Wall will soon be a reality. After long meetings, and many debates, politicians and ministers have decided to build a wall that will divide the city into two secti…” “Bullshit!..” Politicians and all of their good ideas. They think, that because they wear 1000-dollar suits, appear on Tv and have a nice office, with majestic pictures of themselves, then they know what is up and down and what is right and wrong. I hate it. Everything in this city is well functioning. They only want to split up the city, so the rich can live in peace. Cut off from all the social problems that come with the criminals and the poor from the other part of the city.
A collection of Short Stories
I know the area will be controlled by criminals. Trust me,I know this part of town pretty well... “ Easy there Cameron. Don’t let them get into your head. Take a deep breath and let it go.” That's my friend. He has just moved to town. He had heard of the wall, and wanted to come check it out. He is always there for me. Helping me out with everything. He is there when i go shopping and when I am watching a movie. He is my best friend. “ Feel better?” “ Much better.” I said. My white pet pigeon screams. It is unhappy. Maybe it is hungry. I open the cage and try to grab it. It bites me and flies away. Out in the open. The sun is so strong that I can’t even keep my eyes open to look after it. “ It is gone Cameron. Maybe it is better this way.” Maybe he is right. Day 3 It is Monday. I’m on my way out the door, on my way to work - the new one. My old job was just around the corner from where I live, but this new job is much further away, and now with the construction of the wall, the traffic is just ridiculous in both parts of the city. “You are going to be late, Cameron”, my friend yells from the living room. He is watching TV. “Shit!” A woman welcomes me at the entrance to the grey building. I look at my watch, out of my breath, i’m 20 minutes late. “You must be Cameron”, the woman says with a smile on her face, “welcome to your new workplace”. The woman walks me through a labyrinth of stairs and doors, and after 5 minutes we find ourselves in the dark basement of the grey building. she shows me to my office. It’s boring, but I’ll make do of it… Suddenly a door opens down the hallway. A fresh wind with a wonderful scent reaches my nostrils. A beautiful woman walks by my office. That was the first time I saw her. Day 24 Today is one of those days. You just want to stay in bed the whole day, but work beckons. Raindrops fall on my window. The clouds make the sky uneven. I need to get up.
A collection of Short Stories
“Cameron it’s time to get up! I know your work is boring, but remember, she is there.” I have told him about her, but it was like I didn't have to. He knows everything about her and he really wants me to meet her. It is almost like he loves her. We have decided that today is the day that I’ll talk to her. My chair is not comfortable. The clock on the wall is making loud ticking noises. I can’t concentrate. When is she coming? She is in the back of my mind all the time. My stomach is rumbling. I need something to eat, maybe a sandwich. Yeah, that’s what I’ll get. One of them Italian pastrami sandwiches. I grab my jacket and go outside. It’s still raining, maybe a bit more than before. There is a long queue in front of the pizzeria. “Hey Cameron! Funny to see you here, hungry too?” “What are you doing here?” “Getting something to eat, just like you. Have you talked to that girl yet?” “No, not yet” “ Oh, but good luck then, see ya at home!” “Please, hold up. Would it be to much to ask you to come with me. Just for some mental support.” “No, not at all, i just have to finish my sandwich first.” … “Cameron she is coming!” We are like little boys, waiting for that girl everybody wanted. Desperate to get her attention. I heard the door open. Her footsteps make almost no sound. It is almost like she is floating. I get out of my chair, going for the door. She passes by and i prepare my throat to talk. “Hey do you?...” My mouth is dry, and my throat feels sore. She turns around, goddamn she is beautiful. She looks confused. “Did you say something?” She talks to me, she really talks to me. I can hear my friend in the back of my office. He is happy, happy that i took the first step.
A collection of Short Stories
“Yeah… uuhmm, I was wondering if you wanted to…. maybe grab dinner sometime? I don’t know..” I did it, I asked her. This must be the best day of my life. I feel a wonderful warm flow through my body. Is this love? But suddenly everything changes. She gets a weird look on her face and turns around. She does not even say a word. She just walks. I’m paralyzed and hurt. “Are you ok? Better luck next time my friend. I have an idea, let us go grab a beer at the restaurant across the street.” We went over there. A waiter was waiting at the entrance. “Evening sir. Welcome to the The Mad Hatter. Just a table for you?” “Yes, a table for me and my friend.” The waiter looked confused, but took us to our table anyway... Day 78 Baaang! The lightning outside lights up the whole restaurant. Around the restaurant some muffled and frightened screams are heard. “Jeez, the weather is just getting worse, right Cam? I don’t think I’ve seen the sun in two months.” The restaurant has become our go-to place. I can’t stand the mess he makes at my apartment. It’s getting worse too, but i don’t want to make a big thing out of it. He’s my friend and he will always be. We’re at the restaurant every night. Sometime we even get a glimpse of her when she finishes her shift. I still don’t get why she turned me down, I know everything about her. I know where she lives, I even know about Sofia and Albert her two beautiful children. “The wall is almost finished, Cameron. Maybe you should move to this part of town? It’s going to be difficult for you to get to work through the wall everyday. Plus, she lives here, you know.” Baaang! Another lightning strikes. It’s even louder than before. Day 100 Today is the 6th of June 1906. Maybe it is a sign. I don’t know. I feel different. Everything around me is dark: my office, the sky, even my mind. My friend also feels different, not exactly
A collection of Short Stories
like me, he’s a bit more angry. Today is the day I get my new apartment, my friend found it for me. I haven’t been at my old one for quite a while now. I’m at the restaurant. Across the table sits my good friend. I talk about her. What she has done to me. “Cameron, you need to show her the real Cameron. Show her what you are made of.” I feel the adrenalin pumping. It’s getting warmer inside the restaurant and the windows are starting to gather dew. A radio is turned on. “Today is the day we all have been waiting for. In exactly 100 days it has been done: the wall is finished.” “Woaw, that’s amazing we have to see this.” The restaurant is crowded, loud. We hear silverware clinking, babies screaming, but the only thing we notice is our heartbeat and drops of sweat covering our face. We feel our heartbeat raising. It feels like it could smash our chest every second. We wait till midnight, when the restaurant is empty and the darkness has made the city fall asleep. But we are not asleep; we are more alive than we have ever been. She walks out of that big grey building on the corner across the street. The same grey building that we know so well. She is dead tired from her 12-hour shift. Back at home her children lie peacefully in their beds, not knowing that their mother soon meets a man that changes their lives forever.
A collection of Short Stories
Alan-Aliser Ötünc, Sofus Rasmus Clausen: Late at Night
It was late at night, around 3 AM. A lady was walking home alone, after a late night puppet theatre. It was very dark. The streetlights were slightly lighting. One of two of them was flickering. There was a thick mist. The trees were looking hostile, while waving in the wind, with their branches, sharp as knives. Now and then she could sense someone following her, but every time she turned around there was noting but the thick mist. She heard footsteps, but nothing was there. She heard a silent laughter. She started running, without looking back or any idea of where she was running, she just ran. She sensed a silhouette of a man 30 meters away, so she turned to the left, into a blind alley. When she reached the end of the blind alley, she looked back and saw a shadow of a man. She looked around for a way out, but she was trapped. The building seems to never end. There was no stairs. She really was trapped. Suddenly she heard a voice “you’re done”. She screamed, but the scream did not last for long. She heard the blood, drip on the ground, as all light faded away. Then she woke up. “Where am I?” Everything was so bright and clear. I sat up and felt the slightly wet grass between my fingers. I looked around, and everything I could see was trees with the most delicious fruits I could imagine. Up in the clear blue sky, I could see white doves flying and singing, like there was nothing else to do. Then I saw a male approaching me. He had a white toga, and long brown hair and beard. “Hello Mary, welcome to heaven” “Heaven?? And how do you know my name is Mary?” “Why I’m Jesus, son of god. Your messiah.” “Jesus? Prove it!” “Your dead will live; their corpses will rise you who lie in the dust, awake and shout for joy, for your dew is as the dew of the dawn, and the earth will give birth to the departed spirits. - Now who other than Jesus can quote that from the bible? Now, will you follow me?”
A collection of Short Stories
“Well, I guess there is no harm in following you” Then I stood up, and followed Jesus. He led me to a very bright source of light. As I almost couldn’t look at the light anymore, everything went black.
Dave had just woken up, and lighted up his joint, while saying “420 blaze it fgt”. His eyes were red, as the ocean is blue. He was already late for work. Dave was a thin, young, black male. He only wore white clothes. As he was walking to work, he saw a lady who seemed to be waking up. He walked over to her. She was covered in blood, red as his eyes. He asked her: “Is there anything I can do for you?” “I just want to hear a poem, before I die.” “Well, it’s your lucky day fam, I know just the right poem for you!” “Fantastic” - she said. “Roses are red. My name is Dave. This makes no sense. Microwave.” She opened her eyes wide. They shined like the sun. The blood on her dress disappeared, and the mark of the knife stab healed. “It’s a miracle” - she said. “How did you do it?” “I am” - He said, while taking a deep breath, which developed into a nasty coughing. The coughing got worse and worse, and at last he did not have any more air left in his lungs. His hot body, landed on the stone cold ground. He said with a very devastated voice “Black Jesus” “Are you alright?” the lady said. “My time has come,” he said. “But before I die, you can ask me one question, about everything you desire to know” She did not know what to ask. It all came so sudden. What do you ask a man who is dying? But then she knew what to ask him. “When will I die?” she asked him. “You will die on the day that the blind man sees you.” He said, while all light from his otherwise dark eyes vanished. She did not understand what he meant. How can a blind man see me? She thought to herself. It does not make any sense. She thought it might be a riddle, and fortunately she had an old friend who wa an expert in riddles. She called him with her phone that was covered in blood. (But little did she know that her old friend was an extreme radicalized Muslim) “What do you want Margarita?” “I have a riddle that I can’t solve myself. I need your help. “Firstly I don’t have time, I have a big missi… ehm… I have thing to do. And secondly I don’t want to talk to you anymore. You are a disbeliever and you will burn in eternal hellfire. I hope you’ll find the truth one day.” He hung up, but just before the connection was lost, she heard a man in the background yell “Allahu Akbar”
A collection of Short Stories
She confusedly looked around, and saw a big cloud of smoke appear in the direction of a pig farm. She wanted to forget about the explosion, and turned around to see Black Jesus, but he was not there. And then she got stabbed in the back. She heard Black Jesus yell, “Die you dark haired bitch!” Margarita used the last of her power to say “I have white hair you moron!” Then she fell to the ground. She was dead. It turned out that Black Jesus was colour blind.
A collection of Short Stories
Chadi Ali Chebib, Tarek El Mazaii: The short story
It was almost midnight, a dark gloomy Friday night. Her pace as fast as her heartbeat, racing through the narrow slumps and alleys. She didn’t want to be here, but her friends talked her into it. They dared her to it, called her a coward, pathetic, pitiful, a waste of air, a little goody two shoe’s, but she would show them. ‘How dangerous could it be?’ She thought. ‘Did they really think that she wasn’t up for it?’ Her father may be a priest, but that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t drink alcohol, and party like all the other ordinary teenagers her age. Her mother told not to go, her father essentially forbidding her from going, questioning her faith. ‘Who was he to question her faith?’ she thought angrily. Her, who have followed every damned rule that god has sent upon us. The cold was bone chilling, making goosebumps trail up her legs throughout her whole body; she started to regret she wasn’t wearing more concealing clothes. Tears were trailing down her cheeks, she couldn’t help it. She was distraught, she left the party a little while ago, she couldn’t stand the other kids who started mocking her, the second she arrived. Suddenly she heard a noise from behind, and she turned around. What see saw, was the most horrifying, horrendously and hideously face she has ever seen, which also became her last. I’ve been here since 10 PM, waiting for perfect target to execute my plan on. My blade has been sharpened and polished, and it’s as thirsty for blood, as I am. I’ve been dubbed as the son of the devil, called the archangel of death, by the police I’ve been named as The Ace, cause of my signature card, aces of hearts, laid on every victim I’ve claimed, through the last seven years. My entire youth, I’ve been abused by the society because of my scarred face, so many job offers got turned down because I was too hideous, simply because of a freak accident. I implement my vengeance upon those who’ve wronged me, some people call it psychotic, I simply see it as retribution. For so long, the society have preyed upon the weak in this country. Making it harder for individuals in a less ideal predicament, to get through the hardships of life. My wishes is to create a revolution, for the peoples who’ve been wronged upon, and for those committing these atrocities, to acknowledge that there’s someone fighting back. My methods may be atypical, but then again, as is life. There is so much corruption in this city, that even the priest has taken
A collection of Short Stories
methods to assure his own well-being, by stealing the donated money from the church. Money donated, so they could keep the soup kitchen running, sadly that wasn’t meant to be. Finally, after waiting for so long, I set my eyes upon my target. She walks in beauty, like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies, and all that’s best of dark and bright, meet in her aspect, and her eyes. Her pace fast, racing through the narrow slumps and alleys, having no idea that I’m following. I can see that she is crying, tears trailing slowly down her cheeks. She still haven’t noticed me. I make a noise, for her to acknowledge me. She turns fast, and sets her large beautiful azure eyes on me, with wide eyes and a horrified expression on her face. Her scream as music to my ears, after my blade cuts through her flesh, as a hot knife through butter. I put my signature card upon her chest, and starts walking down the road, pondering over when they see, what I see. That the world is incomplete, and that life is nothing without pain. She walked in beauty, now she lays in beauty. My definition of beauty.