Flash Fiction

Treasured Flash Fiction

Change The Ending

“That’s the problem. You can’t do it.” He looks at me, his expression grim.

We’re at the end of our rope. All resources have run out. All the options have been used.

Hope is gone, and the only thing left to do is to give up.

Yet, I still look him in the eye, and smile. I have one last thing up my sleeve. One last thing I’ve saved for a moment like this. Only to use in the worst of emergencies.

As soon as my decision is made the room goes dark. Dark to pitch black. Nothing can be seen. Even sound is swallowed up by it.

Except for me and him. I can see him. He’s staring at me. It’s like we’re the only two people left in the world.

In a sense we are.

I take a deep breath in and squeeze my fists at me sides.

He jumps when a burst of pages comes fluttering down around us. Infinitely above and below, pages of paper raining down. We’re floating, but standing on solid ground.

I could stand and watch them for hours. But we don’t have that much time.

I reach out and grab a page from the air.

“

That’s the problem. You can’t do it.” are the last words on the page. Above them are the words telling of our adventure up until that point.

I flip the page over. Looking for the moment where everything went wrong. The second when I made the wrong decision.

Before I can stop and think about what I’m doing, about how I can never get those moments back again, how they will never be a part of my story, I tear the page in half. Right above my worst decision.

The black jolts to the dim light of my bedroom. I’m sitting on my bed. Doing homework.

I have to change my story.

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/480055641527406133/

by Ivie Brooks

I crept through the dungeon, the musty smell all too familiar to me. I had done this many times before, any time the king captured an innocent citizen to torture for his amusement.

I stumbled upon the first cell, finding nothing but bones and dust. Far too late for the unfortunate soul who once sat in this chamber.

I kept pressing forward, not daring to lose focus on what it would mean if anyone was left here. Suddenly, I heard a soft whimper. I paused, waiting to see if it was only in my mind. But then I heard it again.

I moved faster, turning the corner to find a little boy, chained to the wall by his ankle. His clothes were wrinkled and torn, his hair long and unkempt.

When he saw me, his eyes filled with fear. I slipped my mask off the lower part of my face, kneeling down to be eye level with him. He backed away in fear, but he had nowhere to go. I pulled the key out of my pocket and held it out toward him.

“Do you want your freedom?” I asked.

He said nothing, only staring at the key in disbelief. “H-how did you get that?”

I shrugged. “Right now, it doesn’t matter. How old are you?”

“Nine.”

I shook my head. The king was truly evil to take young boys like him away from his family. I put the key in the lock and undid his chain. He stared at his now free ankle in wonder.

“Now, you must keep up with me if you expect to get out of here. Can you do that?” I asked.

He nodded, rubbing his ankle where the chain once held him. I smiled. “Then let’s go.”

From Darkness to Light

by Brooklyne

Her leather soles made no sound as she tip-toed down the rock stairwell. It grew colder and darker as she descended. Her gloved hands found the damp wall to guide her down the narrow tunnel as her eyes adjusted. The smell of rotten something, maybe fish, overcame her and she gagged.

She had come so far to turn around now, she must fulfill her promise.

Jade Hawkins, now fourteen, had been seven years old when she had first escaped this wretched place, with the help of Sparrow. “Aunt” Sparrow had taken her in, fed and clothed her, and let her live and learn from her in her hidden cabin up in the woods. Matt and Sparrow was all she had. Jade would never forget the promise she had made to her little baby brother, and today, she was back to rescue him, never mind it being her third failed attempt, she would get him this time.

Willing herself to move forward, she slipped on her hood, afraid that someone might recognize her fiery red hair. Stepping over the snoring guard, her heart wrenched at the sight of captured prisoners and chained slaves the harsh Monarch kept locked up in the eerie darkness.

Jade looked at all of the prisoners, then spotted the young boy and a lone tear trailed down her dusty face.

She crouched down by his sleeping form and gently shook his shoulders to wake him. Matt’s eyes flew open and his arm raised like he was about to fend off a blow.

“Shh, it’s ok Matt, I’m here to get you out of here.” Jade whispered and held up the key she had snatched from the guard.

“Who are—?”

“I’m your sister. I’ll explain later, but you’ve got to trust me.”

He nodded, “I trust you.”

Ephesians 5:8
“For you were once in darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light.”

1 Peter 2:9
“But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light;”

John 8:12
“Then Jesus answered and said to them, ‘I am the light of the world. He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life.’ ”

By Julian Daventry

It couldn't be my imagination. I knew the feel of a sword, the heavy way it pulled my arm, the feel of the hilt in my callused hands. This was a weapon, made of steel and devoted work. What did it matter if no one else could see it?

"You're a silly boy," my people said. "Full of the stories of firesides and heroes. You're not a warrior. You don't really have a sword." When they thought I wasn't around, they shook their heads and whispered about doctors and medicine. I saw the worried looks in their eyes as I practiced with my blade - invisible to all but me. I watched them avoid me more and more, passing by on the other side of the street.

But I didn't mind. They would learn the truth, some day. And when the day of destruction finally came, and they fell to their knees, praying for someone to help them, for someone save them from their enemies, someone did hear.

I picked up my sword. It was time to be a hero.

Sword of Truth

by Brooklyn

Not again! Thirteen year old Marcus sighed in disbelief.

He glanced around his classroom and saw the looks on his classmates’ faces. Some kids just stared at their teacher, others nodded in agreement at his statement.

Marcus was confused by what his teacher was trying to prove. How can he claim that God doesn't exist? How can he say we were evolved from apes? How can someone so obviously well educated, believe something so ridiculous? He wished that someone would stand up and disagree with Mr. Hydes.

Looking over at Sarah, his friend from church, he hoped she would speak up. Surely she would say something, after all, she was the one in sabbath school to raise her hand and answer all the questions. He glanced at her expectantly, but she shrugged her shoulders like there was nothing she could do to change the teachers opinion.

Why aren’t you speaking up, Marcus? YOU be the voice you wish would speak up… for Me.

Marcus closed his eyes. Why me, Lord? Why can’t Sarah?

Because you know the truth. Take up your Sword of Truth… for Me.

But I’m not old enough. How can I make a difference? What will I know what to say?

I will give you the words to say. Be bold… for Me.

Mr. Hydes closed his book with a thud, “That will be all for today, kids. Now—”

“Wait!” Marcus stood so fast he saw stars dance across his vision. He reached into his backpack and pulled out his Bible. “I have something to say.”

“How dare you interrupt me!” Mr Hydes was outraged. Veins popped out across his forehead, and his face turned the color of a ripe tomato. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Marcus calmly replied, “I’m taking up my Sword of Truth.”

Ephesians 6:17
“And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God:”

Isaiah 6:8
“…Here am I! Send me.”

Exodus 4:12
“Now therefore, go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall say.”

https://www.pinterest.com/pin/480055641527735708/

A race for Treasure

by Brooklyne Nickel

Megan shivered despite her knit sweater. She lifted her lantern high above her head, creating a soft halo of light around her. Lighting up her path, one step at a time. Dried leaves crunched under her boot soles and she glanced down at the treasure map replica.

Guided only by the light of the full moon and her flickering lantern, Megan jumped at the sound of coyotes yipping close by. Suddenly, she came upon a large rock boulder and her breath caught. Just like Grandpa Adams said. She thought to herself.

For a moment, she smiled at the memory of her grandfather. At the time, she had been the only one to believe his seemingly wild and crazy stories of hidden treasure. Now, she would fulfill his dying wish, if only she could get to it before they did.

She leaned her back against the cold rock, with a small etched X at it’s base, then slowly counted her steps in the direction of three giant pine trees growing in a triangle. She knew, like any real treasure map, the red X did not mark the spot. Grandpa Adams had confirmed her assumption on the day he died, but he also told her that after she found the X, to walk 23 feet in towards the “Three Sisters” as he called them.

Megan still remembered him slipping a key into her hand along with the treasure map, saying that she would inherit the treasure since she believed.

If only her cousin had not overheard and told his friends about her grandpas secret, then she wouldn’t be racing the seconds. Megan knew they had the map, for when it was stollen, she made a replica of it by memory.

The time had come to claim her treasure.

Matthew 6:19-21

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasure on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”