Short Story and Vocab Post

The sun swam into the city, coating every building with it’s warmth, a golden glow to prove it. (1. Atmosphere) Like robots getting their battery packs for a new day, (2. Simile) the daily coffee worshippers (3. Oxymoron) filed lines outside of every Starbucks at each corner.

I sighed. (4. Simple sentence) It’s one of those days. one of those perfect, goddamned days. (5. Irony)

Bang. (6. Onomatopoeia) I slammed my fist into the table, blood’s rushing to my head. I pulled my long brown hair out of my face and into a ponytail. I cupped my face, rubbing my eyes. I’ve got to get rid of this feeling. Sitting up in bed, the pristine white sheets curled around me, every bend and fold neatly pressed. I look over at my nightstand. There’s a more than half empty bottle of wine next to the picture of my mom. Hm, that’s unlike me. It’s 8:09 A.M. (7. Setting) Shit, I’m going to be late again.

I swing my legs out of bed, feet hitting the floor, (8. Parallelism) which apparently was a huge mistake. All the blood rushed to my head.

“Fuck, I’ve gotta throw up,” I thought to myself.
Pressing my hand to my lips, I ran to the bathroom. The air felt electric the moment I awoke, putting me in this state of turmoil. I still remember. Memories and thoughts from last night were still vivid with color. What I’ve done, and what I’ve failed to do (9. Anaphora) were colliding. Maybe I’m just overreacting.

I spat into the toilet and got up to rinse my mouth out.
“Hot damn, what a mess.” I laughed as I looked into the mirror, “I’m definitely late.”

I started to get into the shower, turning the water the right temperature when the phone started ringing. My boss (10. Flat character) is calling, but I decide to let it go to voicemail. I can’t deal with that right now. Plus, whatever he wants to tell me would probably make me want to throw up again, anyways. I put my phone on silent.

The cool drops of water create currents (11. Alliteration) down my hair and across my skin. I could stand in here forever. I’m not trying to wash my problems down the drain, though, I’d love to do so if that were an option. Last night great; I haven’t been by myself in so long. I’ve craved this independence. When the water gets a bit too cold, I hop out of the shower. My phone has 17 missed calls from my boss. If I turn off my cell phone, then maybe I could pretend that I don’t have to go to high school again. (12. Antecedent-consequence relationship)

My eyes lock at what’s ahead of me hung on the bath towel rack. Jeans and a hoodie are hung, waiting for me to put it on. Pull yourself together, Kim (13. Protagonist).

“Okay, just remember that this is just another mission. You just have to find the one terrorist in a high school 4,000 people. Plus, all teenagers are stupid. I’ll solve this case quick.” (14. Narration) (15. Antagonist) (16. Generalization) I think to myself. I just don’t (17. Contraction) want to go through high school again. I mean, I’m 26. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb. (18. Hyperbole)

It’s 8:37, and I’m beyond late to school. School will be a breeze, (19. Anadiplosis) (20. Metaphor) I’ve already done it all. I’ve got my badge, my gun, and my instructions with me. Walking towards the school, students are spotted across campus, babble filling the air. (21. Loose (paratactic) sentence) One of these students is a threat. All I have to do is find him.