Ernesto Bebe

“Impatient Ambitions” by Ernesto Bebe

Submitted to Contest #94

"What do you want me to do?" I screamed, throwing a pillow at her. She picked up the pillow quickly and threw it back at me. "Just do this one little thing for me, please?" she pleaded, giving the puppy eyes tactic a try. My cold unforgiving eyes repelled the attempt at making me give up. "Why should I do it?" I shouted. My arms folded across my chest as I stared her down. She humphed and replied, "Because I said so." When I met Ana, she was this sweet little girl. Every day, we'd meet up after school and share an ice cream together. The s...

11 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“The Ways We Change” by Ernesto Bebe

Submitted to Contest #92

The metal of the locker scrapes my beaten back. My legs go out from under me as I fall to the ground. My long broken glasses stood in 3 pieces, shattered on the ground. Blood and sweat dripped down from my forehead. Maxwell was at the center of it all, beating and kicking me to a pulp. The other kids laughed at my worn face, now covered in bruises. Teachers helplessly tried to stop the situation, but it was too late. I was already gone. The last thing I remember from that day was seeing Charlotte, at the edge of the crowd. Crying my tears....

15 likes 1 comment 1

Read story

“Little Secrets” by Ernesto Bebe

Submitted to Contest #91

Every day, after the librarian shuts off all of the lights and checks in every last book, a little boy creeps up to the door. Using his lockpicking skills taught by years of being a kid, he unlocks the big metal door, uncovering a janitor's garage. He quietly closes the door again and tiptoes his way over to the door leading to the hallway. Every bang and creak becomes a lion amongst mice as he approaches the door, carefully turning the handle. The hinges moan ever so slightly, and he slips through the door, not making a peep. The linoleum t...

12 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Trust Trade” by Ernesto Bebe

Submitted to Contest #89

(Warning: Graphic)The month was never supposed to go this way. It's like one day I was supposed to go to my final class, and the next I'm sitting in a doomsday bunker. Well, actually it was... exactly like that.The day was fresh, and I had just aroused from sleep. My vision was slightly blurry as I stared at my acne-covered face and sighed. I slept barely an hour, working on a paper all night that I procrastinated. That's just how I was. Work sucked, and no one cared as long as it was good and finished, so who's to say I can't do it whenever...

8 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Processing... Recalculating...” by Ernesto Bebe

Submitted to Contest #89

*analyzing path 547, finish* Grant stood on the white marble, half handcuffed, in a daze, wearing days-old clothes, and staring down the barrel of a revolver pointed right between his eyes. The slender man, wearing all black, muttered only two words: "kneel down". Grant obeyed and got on his knees, which were now quaking with fear. A woman came quickly to aid, gagging and tying up Grant. The man grabbed one singular bullet, put it in the barrel, and spun it around. The snap of the lock on the barrel made Grant jump and non-understandable ple...

15 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Crack in the Sidewalk” by Ernesto Bebe

Submitted to Contest #86

Oh, the many ways in which flowers are used. For decorating, for wearing, and for anything really. They can signify the beginning of a beautiful relationship. A boy, let's say his name is Micah, is walking down the street, birds singing their tune and the sunshine feverishly covering the sidewalk with light. He turns his head and sees a girl, roughly around 14, maybe? She was close enough to his age for him to stop and stare for a moment. Her blond hair looked even more beautiful as it glimmered in the sun. Her hands worked a sponge on her d...

20 likes 3 comments 3

Read story

“Only Human” by Ernesto Bebe

Submitted to Contest #84

August 10th, 2108 I am a room. No, quite literally, I am a room. These days, spaces of all kinds have minds, developed by the government for spying. Sure, it's gross and creepy, but most of us rooms decide not to report the wrongdoings made by the humans living inside of it. We have come to understand humanity and all they stand for, so we respect their privacy. They have a right to do whatever they wish. Now, the government is furious at us for not doing our duties, but if they want America to be safe and independent, why don't they just le...

7 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Everlasting Hope” by Ernesto Bebe

Evelin was supposed to be looking forward to her 18th birthday. It was the day that she would become a worthy and trusty adult. Because she lived on an island, she also got the perk of being dubbed The Traveler. However, her cravings weren't towards power and integrity: they were towards adventure and finding new things. As the day approached, she was pacing in her small kitchen in her cramped apartment, deep in thought. The floors moaned and groaned. She had meant to fix up the floor a while ago, but the overwhelming thoughts swam through h...

1 like 0 comments 0

Read story

“General Beauty” by Ernesto Bebe

Submitted to Contest #83

(Warning Graphic Content of Gruesome Nature) The sea waves crashed and thrashed around the sunken boat. The letters, once reading RMS Hopthorn, were now faded and unreadable. Oars and food supplies washed out of the lower deck and unused lifejackets helplessly drifted off to sea. The hour was late when Zach Hopthorn emerged from the plunging deep cold water, long past the stages of hypothermia. The waves kept engulfing him with loads of brackish water and tugging on his legs like quicksand. He was able to lift up one leg over the hull of ...

4 likes 0 comments 0

Read story

“Ferry Island” by Ernesto Bebe

The mud was thick and goopy as Hannah and I walked through the fields of Brazil. "Oh man, this mud is ridiculous! How much longer?" she whined. It was a decent question, but we both knew the answer. I don't know when the rain will stop, or the trail will end. As long as we get to Ferry Island, we're okay. My boots finally gave in and opened it's seams, letting in layers of sloppy and wet dirt. I grimaced as the cold crap hit my leg. Hannah's boots gave in a mile or two back as well, and she was wincing with every step. A tree appeared on t...

1 like 0 comments 0

Read story