FLASH Fiction

Some more brilliant writing from more brilliant students!

The Red Sweater
By Bubbles234

   "Just stop it already.  Please!" screamed Jenny, who had a group of girls taunting and teasing her at school daily. She was never one of those girls who wore fancy dresses and expensive jewelry.  It didn't help that she didn't have a mother to help her through these tough times.
   Jenny was one of those girls who had to live with her aunt and uncle her whole life because she had no parents.  Her aunt and uncle were also very poor and could not afford much for themselves and Jenny.  They couldn't afford much food, nor could they afford much clothing; they each had two pairs of paints, two shirts and one sweater.
   One day Jenny had had enough of the girls laughing at her.  As she was walking out of school, she started to think why the group of girls hated her so much.  She figured it was because of the way she looked and acted.  "But then again, why should I care what people think about me?  I am who I am and I can't help that."  She had been walking for a while when all of a sudden she had no clue where she was.  It was as if she walked into a completely other part of the dark and frightening woods.  She decided to wander around until she felt so worn out from all the walking and running.  She collapsed to the ground from exhaustion.
   That night, when Jenny didn't return home after school, her aunt and uncle rushed to search for her in the town and the woods.  They kept walking and walking when all of a sudden, sitting right in front of them was Jenny's bright red sweater.  They didn't know if they should jump to conclusions, but what they did know was that Jenny was missing.
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Criminal
by Greek guy

I walk into the courtroom wearing an orange shirt and pants, handcuffs at my back, and two guards pushing me forward with their billy clubs.  I see in front of me, a man all high and mighty, the decider of my fate.  He looks at me like I'm not the same as everyone else, like I'm a disgusting cockroach, which most people think I am.

But now look who's talking!  With his scruffy mustache and the sunlight glaring off of his bald head.  It actually makes me smile because he looks like a cartoon character.  He keeps blabbering on about stuff that's boring, and I try to tune him out but some of the things he's saying are things I have to hear.  But what really gets me is that he tells me things that I already know like why I'm here.  Like he thinks I'm too dumb to remember.  And even though I just want to get out of my seat, climb up there and punch him in the face, I just can't do anything about it.

Even an hour after the hearing, I can still hear the banging of his mallet, telling me the jury's verdict.  "Guilty, guilty, guilty."  This is how it is when I sit on my metal bed while iron doors close around me.  And ever since my childhood, everyone has treated me as nothing else but... a criminal.