Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Darkness And Light (standard:Creative non-fiction, 873 words)
Author: Sad Story TellerAdded: Mar 10 2007Views/Reads: 3503/2255Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is a simple story of a boy named Brent trying to save his life love without going against what is beleived to be "wrong."
 



CHAPTER ONE: DEATH; 

"The weather hasn't been this bad in a while." 

"Yeah. Poor Stephanie, her coach is making them practice in the rain." 

"That's a major safety hazard there is supposed to be lightning." 

"Speaking of the devil, there the team is now." 

It is odd to think that two boys who love the same girl can be such good
friends. It is odd to think that together they would have to watch her 
die. Brent was the first to notice, the light started in the sky. Time 
seemed to slow as the lightning bolt connected with Stephanie's head.  
The contact was accompanied by the scream of the entire girl's soccer 
team. She was gone. Riley quickly swerved the car trying to stop it. He 
barely missed a Semi truck turning in front of their lane. Brent jumped 
out of the car before it stopped. 

He ran over to her body pushing through the dense crowd of girls and
parents. He bent down and looked into her eyes. He could see she was 
trying to breathe. "Call 911!" He grabbed her hand. 

The landscape changed. Actually there was no landscape, just a man in a
hood.  He turned towards Brent, and Brent noticed the man had purple 
eyes. Then Brent noticed that Riley was right next to him. The man 
stared at them and said, "She is mine." 

"Dead at the scene." 

Brett was back to reality. The medics were taking her away. "What do you
mean 'dead at the scene.'? She can't be dead." 

"Sorry kid, she's gone." 

"No. But...But she can't be gone. I...I." 

"We loved her," Riley finished. 

The Medics put her in the ambulance. "You can see her at her funeral, I
would recommend asking here parents when it is. Sorry kid, you just 
have to understand she is gone." 

They both just stood there in the rain. Waiting. Hoping that by some
sort of miracle she would come back. Brent was crying, but you would 
have never known, the rain was poring. 

"Hey Brent, do you need a ride home?" 

"No. I am going to stay here." 

"Ok. But it's going to get cold." 

"I don't care, at least not anymore." 

Brent laid down on the ground. Like he said he no longer cared.
Stephanie was everything to him. She was his life. She was gone and he 
no longer cared about anything. They met in sixth grade on an English 
field trip to a play. Later that year at a Spanish field trip he got 
the guts to put his arm around her. Ever since that moment they seemed 
to be eternally linked. He would have expected to feel that link 
broken, but it wasn't. 

Riley walked outside with his basketball in his hand. At first he just
threw the ball at the backboard aimlessly, but eventually he got in the 
zone. Basketball was his thing, his way of letting go of everything. 
When he was in the zone he forgot everything. Only him, the ball, and 
the hoop existed. He didn't have to think about Stephanie dieing, he 
didn't have to worry about anything. Riley had been Brent's best friend 
since third grade. They use to be neighbors. They were probably best 
friends because both their parents were foster parents. And they both 
knew what it was like to be teased. They weren't only teased about 
their parents but also about their yellow eyes. 

The doctors couldn't explain why the boys had yellow eyes. The doctors


Click here to read the rest of this story (40 more lines)



Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Sad Story Teller has 1 active stories on this site.
Profile for Sad Story Teller, incl. all stories
Email: gargargar99@hotmail.com

stories in "Creative non-fiction"   |   all stories by "Sad Story Teller"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy