9/11 Short Stories

The duo kept up their pace until they got to Aunt Sarah’s house. It was still pouring rain and cold, and, by the time they had arrived, it was just as dark and dreary as it had been when the storm had first hit, if not even worse. Mrs. Chipley and Sally went onto the house’s porch, and took cover underneath the small, wooden roof over the porch. Mrs. Chipley knocked on the door and stepped back. There was nothing on the porch, like there had been before, during other times when Sally had visited. There used to be three big rocking chairs that Sally had loved to sit on, and there had been two small tables, on which plates and cups usually lay, for the porch had been the place for morning tea. None of that was there anymore. “Why isn’t anything

Chipley suddenly began to run at a pace with which Sally could barely manage to keep up. Sally, who had not been expecting this at all, was forced to run after the woman and she couldn’t stop, even to take a breath, for Mrs. Chipley’s grip was too strong and her pace too fast. If Sally tried to stop, she would surely fall over. She was not strong enough to stop both herself and Mrs. Chipley at once.
“Let me go!!!” Sally yelled, not knowing what else to do. She panted and tugged her arm, but she was beginning to weaken. “Someone!!! Anyone!!! Help m-”
Mrs. Chipley had slapped a hand over Sally’s mouth. “Be quiet. You said you wanted to go with me, and you will.” She was about to start running again, but then she added, “Just not where you thought you would go.”
Mrs. Chipley started running again, but this time Sally was aware of what would happen and she planted her feet on the ground, not allowing herself to be moved. Mrs. Chipley tugged, but it seemed as though her energy had been drained, just like Sally’s.
Suddenly, Sally ripped her arm from Mrs. Chipley’s grip and began to sprint back to Aunt Sarah’s house. Mrs. Chipley, who was much faster than Sally, couldn’t catch up, for she was very tired and Sally was running much faster than she had ever run