Cute Short Stories

Today's Theme is Hurrying -- Short Story 40

Today's Theme is Hurrying -- Short Story 40

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"Come on, let's go!" The boy waved his arms at me. "We'll be late if you don't hurry up!"

"Late for what?" I asked, frowning at the unknown boy. I have never seen him before. His eyes pleaded with me to go with him though.

"No time for questions." He shook his head. "Let's go!"

I watched as the young boy took off sprinting. I gapped for so long that he eventually disappeared from my sight. Seconds later, I felt the wind against my face and my breathing speeding up - I was running too.

Sprinting faster than normal, I caught up to the boy. He stood in front of me on the old, gravel road. I suddenly couldn't remember how I got here. I don't even know where 'here' is.

"You've got to keep up." He scolded, wagging his finger at me. "We'll be late for sure now."

"Late for what?" I grew frustrated with everything. "Where am I? Who are you?" The questions poured out.

"No time." The stubborn boy replied. "Follow me."

As he ran ahead again, I did my best to keep up. When my legs didn't feel like they were seizing and my lungs weren't about to collapse, I knew something wasn't right. I can never run for this long.

We ran for what seemed like a lifetime. The road didn't seem to end.

"Come o-" The boy was interrupted by a much louder voice. I couldn't make out what it was saying though. "Oh-no." He looked frightened. "We're late."

"Late for what?" I murmured, hearing my mom's voice.

"For school!" She hit my door with her fist. "Get up, lazy bones!"

Realizing that not only had I been talking in my sleep, I had missed my alarm for school, I jumped from my bed and landed face first on the ground.

"What time is it?" I grumbled, rubbing the potential carpet burn I may have just given myself. When the front door slammed shut, I knew I was at least an hour behind my normal schedule.

Scrambling to pick out clean clothes up from my floor, I threw on an old hoodie and jeans as I rushed into the bathroom. I didn't bother changing my shirt.

Combing through my hair with my fingers, I swished a bit of mouthwash around to skip brushing. I spat it out and ran downstairs.

I grabbed a piece of gum off the counter as I threw homework and food into my backpack. Making a sprint for the door, I tripped on a sneaker of my older brother's.

Half of my bag spilled out all over the floor. I shoved as much of it into my bag as I could and left. Hastily locking the door, I made up for any lost time by racing down the street.

Why does my car have to be in the shop this week?

I asked myself as I checked the time. If I push myself hard, I might make it to school by the second bell. I can't have detention again. I've only had it a handful of times throughout grades 7 to now, but I hate it.

I ignored the stares I received from curious onlookers and waved apologetically at the man I cut off at the crosswalk.

"Sorry!" I yelled at a little girl who I nearly ran into on the sidewalk. "I'm gonna be late!"

I felt tempted to cut through a back yard. It leads straight to the school and I'd make it a lot faster if I did.

But last second I chickened out and kept going on the pavement. My shoes slapped the ground with every running step. My breathing grew heavier and heavier.