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Write a story in which a window is broken or found broken.

Posted in Dark on Oct 26, 2022

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✍️ 141 stories

You Never Know

Submitted to Contest #97

1638 wordsRated PG: violence, blood, fearPrompt: Write a story in which a window is broken or found brokenI can hear her speaking. Her voice won’t stop bouncing around my mind. It’s annoying. She spoke to me hours ago, and I can still hear her jolly laugh and feel her hand on my shoulder. I can see her shimmering dark eyes, filled with evil, but. . .that’s not all. I can see ambition. I can see life. I can see something I’m not sure I understand. That was this afternoon. Now, the moon is bouncing off my cloak and trying to catch my heel...

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Vampire Friends 🧛

Submitted to Contest #97

Devon is sitting on the couch in front of the TV switching the channels so fast I can’t even read it. I'm surprised she can. I’m tryin’ to read Twilight but with flashes on the TV and the obnoxious clicking of the button on the remote are distracting my thoughts and reading. I get up to go to the bedroom that’s only a couple of steps away and a left turn but I’m stopped by Devon. “Where are you going?” She asks as she gets up and glides towards me while also throwing the remote back at the couch with precision and looking at me all the ...

18 likes 2 comments 2
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A window is broken or Found broken

Submitted to Contest #97

It started with one of the stormiest nights the Briggs family had ever since. Hammering rain and icy winds, thunder, and lighting rattling their measly cottage. Travis Briggs, the eldest of the Briggs children, was shaking. He was a bully and hot-headed, but thunder made him scared straight. Milly, the second eldest, was delighted! She loved storms and often dreams of becoming a meteorologist. She was looking out the window, smiling wildly. Then there was Junior, the youngest. He sat on the ground, not fazed at all the commotion of his famil...

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The Man in Black

Submitted to Contest #97

Nick tossed about in bed. He couldn’t sleep. He gave up trying to keep his eyes shut because he knew it was useless. And his pillow was on the wrong side of the bed.  Nick sat up and put the pillow on the right side of the bed. He straightened his blankets and lay down on the bed, still unable to sleep. He stared at his ceiling. And then he stared at the window. There was the moon. How round and bright it was. He got up and went to the window to get a closer look.  Nick admired the moon. He lived in a flat on the 7th floor. Fr...

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Own Up to It.

Submitted to Contest #97

"Who did it?"Mom crossed her arms, her foot tapping impatiently on the floor.It's a terrifying sound my brother and I come to face once in a while. But it's never been this bad.On the floor were shards of glass, above it was a gaping hole to the outside world. Gusts of wind blew in from it."Well? Who broke the window?"I tried to make words but failed."Mom, I-I didn't do it!" My brother stuttered out, then pointed at me."She did!""What?! Don't go blaming me for your mess!""You mean your mess!"The two of us squawked like crows for a couple of ...

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Bloody Hands.

Submitted to Contest #97

The night was pitch black because the moon was too shy to come out from the clouds. With a restless heart, I stood there waiting for my brother. I knew what I am doing is a sin. But sometimes, the path of sin is the only path forward. I agreed to this for mom. She really needs my help. 'I broke the window. Come on. It's time.' 'I have a bad feeling about this.' 'Don't you want to help mom?' He always uses the mom card. Do I love my mom? Yes, I do, but that doesn't mean what we're doing is right. Because of his dumb idea, we're sittin...

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How You Look at Things

Submitted to Contest #97

Looking intently out of the train window as the train gathered speed, keeping her gaze focused outward, not fixed on anything but the far horizon, the images began to blur. Aria sighed contentedly as the world in front of her swirled into the swirl of color and shadow that she knew it was. Being in motion was one way to see things as they were—twisted, churning, blending together. It probably wasn't the best image to have at that moment. Going to a new place, a new job was supposed to elicit emotions of excitement and enthusiasm, to be think...

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Fallen Family

Submitted to Contest #97

I ducked under the police tape and opened the creaky door. Officers nodded at me as I went by. I nodded back and headed upstairs. I removed my coat and handed it off to one of the officers there.She took it without complaint. She didn't meet my eyes, which was just as good. I opened the door of my sister's room and headed inside. There was a wrap over her body. The window off to the side was broken.They hadn't moved her until I had gotten there. I removed the top half of the covering. My sister's face seemed serene in death. It didn't look l...

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Un-shattered dreams

Submitted to Contest #97

Rosa opened her eyes, her heart fluttering in her throat. Was this a dream? She lay still. Barely daring to draw another breath.She listened.A perfect June dawn bathed Rosa in a calm delicate light. It nudged at the white cotton curtains, teasing the sleeping bedroom with glimpses of a glorious deep blue sky, filling the room with salty honeysuckled air.Just outside the cottage window, a bumble bee drifted between the flowers, before starting his engines and taki...

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Peachcroft Woods

Submitted to Contest #97

“Go on, get it. What a baby!” said Perks. “Go on then you get it,” said Gums. “I’m not getting it, you kicked it, you fetch it!” ordered Smithy. I looked at my friends. No one budged. Myself included.  We all lived on a council-run estate, some of our families bought their home, some chose to rent. It was a great little place to grow up in. But, a change was coming for us. Next term we would be moving to senior schools. But for now, we were enjoying our last summer holiday, all our mates at the same school.  You entered our estate ...

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"Except Me"

Submitted to Contest #97

Broken window. What did it mean? In a dream it means stress, and anxiety. In real life, sometimes it's due to that ball you weren’t allowed to play with inside. Or a crime. A broken window can mean a lot of things. Most people witness a broken window. They see a broken window. They watch a window get broken. But nobody’s ever been one. Except me. A broken window I am. I used to reflect people. I see one person setting a trend and the next second I'm a part of that trend too. I see a purple handbag and the next second I have one. I’ve always ...

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Broken Glass and New Beginnings

Submitted to Contest #97

The window matches the rest of the house. Grimy, covered in years of dirt and memories that no amount of cleaning can make a dent in. I should know. I’ve tried. But soap can’t erase memories, not even from a window like this.  The hammer feels familiar in my hand. I hate the familiarity, actually—just another reminder of the life I’m trying to forget.  But today is demolition day. Demolition of this house, in preparation for a new restaurant, and demolition of my old life in preparation for the new. A clean slate. That’s a good...

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Moon and star—two halves of one whole

Submitted to Contest #97

Shattered glass litters the floor like light on a dance floor; weeds burst through the concrete of my skin to soak up the light from the gaping holes in my walls. The metal beams of the ceiling are bent and crooked and paint from hundreds of different cans and artists coat every inch of the place, laid on in thick layers overlapping in different pigments and shades and designs.  I have stood in this lot for a long time. Watched as humanity flowed by like salmon swimming upstream in their little dirty jungle of a city, the slums like a ...

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Stained.

Submitted to Contest #97

Stained. - A piece on Religious Trauma and LGBTQ+ Glass had littered the floor. Bits and pieces of a beautiful stained glass window, once a depiction of God, now shattered and left to become dust amongst the ground of the alter. He stands there for what felt like eternity. He stared, and stared, and stared. His eyes bleeding into the makeshift hole that his fist left behind within the portrait.  He remembers reading about this image, he thought. The one story about how the shepherd lost his lamb, and that of a holy being appeared ...

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Appetite For Destruction

Submitted to Contest #97

How does anyone really know who they are? With all the pressures of society, family, and peers, it’s hard to weed out what things would genuinely be there without all the chatter.  People would describe me as polite, nice, traditional, trustworthy, goody two shoes, prude, clean-cut, boring, and any similar type of words. I was the stereotypical good girl. It’s not a bad way to be. The thing is, inside I didn’t feel that way. Inside I felt a roaring fire tearing down everything in its path.  I played my part though. Got good grade...

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