“Mom, are you okay,” I whispered, as I looked into the frightened, tear filled eyes of my mom. There were scratches, and bruises all over her face and body. I heard the footsteps of someone walking closer and closer. I turned around to see my step-dad walking angrily towards. He clenched his fist as he approached my mom and I. He stopped walking, looked down at me, and brought up his clenched fists. All I can remember, is a huge fist coming right at me, everything else is just a blur.
The dark side of the moon was especially cold that night, or was it that day? Anyway, the darkness made it very hard for me to find my home, or at least that’s what it has been for the past two years, and what it will be for the next six months. None of my crewmates were home yet, which was a little bit strange because normally I was the last one home everyday. I heard a very loud, roaring noise coming from outside. I made my way to a window, only to see the spaceship door shutting and blasting of into darkness, never to be seen again.
I looked back, and I could see the fire burning everything in its path, and nothing was going to stop it. As I neared a road, knowing safety was only 100 steps away, I heard a small, helpless scream. I turned around and began running in the direction of the screams. I was getting hotter and hotter, and began to feel dizzy. I gasped for air as the smoked thickened and filled my lungs. I could barely see where I was going, but continued to follow the screams. On the edge of the smoke, I saw a small baby laying there, sobbing, coughing, and screaming. I heard one last small, helpless scream, right before I hit the ground and everything went black.
It felt like I was never going to stop falling. I looked down, into what looked like a dark, endless pit. A bright, golden light began to appear and it got brighter and brighter. I stopped falling, and my body cried out in pain. I opened my to see colorful and vibrant plants, animals and even huts. “Where am I?” I thought. I stood up and looked around. This is the most beautiful place ever.
“Welcome,” I heard a voice say behind me.
I turned around to see a face that look awfully familiar.
“Mom, is that you,” I said in shock.
I believe that the purpose of flash fiction is to express how you are feeling, what you are thinking about, or an idea that you have, in the form of a short story. You want to draw the reader end and then leave them wondering what happens next. You want the reader to be experiencing the story like it is real life. People write flash fiction to let their mind run free and share their experiences and thoughts with the readers. Flash fiction is an easy, fun way to express yourself through writing.
Over the course of this past year, I have grown in many ways as a writer. From new writing techniques, word roots, and the books that we have read. The six word memoirs taught me that you can say a lot more about yourself than it might seem with six words. The Outsiders, which is now one of my favorite books, taught you should just express your feelings and who you are and everything will work out. We then read Homeless Bird which taught me that even if everything is going wrong, if you keep your head high through the problems, everything will work out just fine. We learned how to write 14 sentence essays, which I really enjoyed because now whenever I have to write a good essay, but I don’t necessarily have a ton of time to do it. I think of the 14 sentence essay technique and it helps guide me through each sentence of my essay. We learned about and made informational satires, which was one of my favorite units because we got to write about a problem that we think there is, but instead of the whole essay just being complaining and complaining. We got to write about the problem in an entertaining way that makes it easier for the author and the reader to stay interested. We have just finished up Lunes, Flash-Fiction, and Fiction which has been a lot of fun because I was able to express my thoughts, feelings, and ideas in a very fun, but easy way that isn’t boring for the reader. That has brought us up until now. I have grown as a reader, writer, and person since I stepped into Mr. Currier’s room for the first time in the middle of August. Mr. Currier has showed me that L.A. isn’t just about reading boring books and writing unnecessary five page essays. He has showed me that it is about finding ways to express yourself, connect with people all around the world (even if they are imaginary), and continuing to think in new innovative ways that keep you engaged with learning.