9/11 Short Stories

The embarrassment I was forced to endure when with the three girls who could possibly destroy my social life within a mere message over social media was unbearable. I felt my feet swell in my worn sneakers as we extended another stride into the expensive dress shop on the right.

“There it is!” Zoe squealed, ripping a shimmery gown from the first rack. I caught a glimpse of the triple digit number printed in black ink on the tag and winced. I couldn’t afford anything here, let alone look good in anything the girls would have me try on. Zoe ducked into a dressing room, excitedly. I sighed, sitting down on a nearby couch. “Have you been looking around?” Megan asked, smoothing over a silky dress she had previously picked out during our last trip.

“I told you, I’ll just wear something I already have.” I said, growing impatient from the pressing question she seemed to ask for the billionth time this month. “Prom is

My throat became sore and I felt my legs disperse into liquid-y lead. Kelly banged her fists angrily against the dressing room.

“What is taking you so long? Zoe we have to leave! Is your zipper stuck or something?” she shouted, spit flying from her mouth. I ignored the oncoming headache and wobbled to a chair. Megan pushed open the door, peeking inside. She let out a shrill cry and scrambled into a corner. I narrowed my eyes into slits in confusion, getting up from my feeble position to see what had stirred her.

Zoe was curled up on the floor, picking at the skin of her fingers with her teeth. I clutched my stomach, “What are you doing?” I managed, holding back vomit. Kelly was hunched over, “What are you doing? Zoe has obviously mistaken her fingers for Twinkies.” she grabbed at my arm but I jerked