Young Adult
Jack and Jhillika
Jhillika stood by the open window and looked into the street below. Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow, looking for movement. In a city that once was bustling with life, even at night, the only thing moving was the occasional rat. The moon was bright, casting shadows on the piles of rubble and burned out cars. Across the street was a dead oak tree in an abandoned lot and something was moving along a branch. When it stopped she could see it was a cat with white patches on its face. It sat on the branch, motionless, peaceful. She recognized it as one she had made friends with a while back. She would often leave tidbits for it when she could. It reminded her of a kitten she had when her family lived in Mumbai.
By Stryker Ostafew5 years ago in Fiction
Golden Skies
“Come on, move!” Lina shoved her way through the crowd, ducking into an alleyway. Laughter rang out, telling her that her younger sister wasn’t far behind. She slumped against the cool stone wall, taking shelter behind a trashcan. Out of breath, she turned to her sister. “Did we lose them?”
By Sophia Knauer5 years ago in Fiction
Galilea
“Shhhh…” my mother warns me, pressing one long finger against her lips. I curl myself into a tighter ball inside of my hiding place, not daring to breathe until the whirring sirens of the sentinels are long gone. Once the coast is clear, I emerge from the damp closet beneath the stairs, and allow myself a little exhale of relief. But even though I’m safe for now, I can never truly enjoy a worry-free breath. There is always the fear of being captured lurking in the back of my mind.
By Kora Greenwood5 years ago in Fiction
Subfloor Six
Jocelyn opened her eyes, awoken from her afternoon nap by the chirping of an alert over the intercom. “Attention all Age 13-15 Apprentices: You are to report to Subfloor Six. Be prepared for inspection.” The metallic voice clicked off, leaving her in a silence that could only be achieved within the thick, stone walls. They eat echoes.
By Emily McGuff5 years ago in Fiction
The First Born
Lena watched the fall colors pour in through the window and dance on the paint-chipped walls. The sun was coming up already, but she hadn’t slept at all. How could she? Today was October 1, 2035, her fourteenth birthday and the day they would come for her.
By Gelena Nicole Brown5 years ago in Fiction
Adapt or Die
It’s the year 2070, it’s been 20 years since the melting of the Arctic and Antarctic. Earthquakes, tsunamis, sand storms, and hurricanes wiped out billions of people, as did many other natural disasters. It was too late for the government to help us, but people continued to petition in hopes that the government would help them, but when they realized there was nothing they could do, they went dark. They abandoned us. They left us to fend for ourselves. We haven’t heard from them since.
By Grace Gaebel5 years ago in Fiction
Greyscale
The World was grey. Though it was better to call it monochrome as the grey varied from place to place but was empty and flat all the same. Even the sky never shifts from dark grey even as the clouds scroll by though I’m told it once used to be bright and blue. I could not picture it for I did not know what blue is.
By Anastasia J Cleveringa5 years ago in Fiction
The Varnd Experience
The process should have been over in two minutes—but he didn’t stop screaming… Tynan didn’t believe me when I told him to hold it back, to pretend not to feel the pain, pretend your skin didn’t feel as if it were being peeled off of you, pretend not to hear the lies as they seeped deep into your soul, taking hold on the gentlest parts of you…
By Mycheille Norvell5 years ago in Fiction
Red Dawn
A loud blare made Andrea jolt in her spot as she climbed the rusty fire escape of a five story apartment block in what used to be called Brooklyn. She knew there was no point in looking over to see the Guard patrolling the streets, with their stone-cold expressions and guns, their faces eerily human. Yet she couldn’t help herself from peering over her shoulder as she tightened her grip on the ramp, her heart still racing from the sudden blare of the curfew alarm. It reminded everyone there was only an hour left before they started taking everyone who dared to walk outside past curfew into custody.
By Yordanka Yordanova5 years ago in Fiction








