9/11 Short Stories

The rain cried as if the heavens had torn apart and came down to Earth to show its sorrow, beating a gentle yet violent tattoo on the roof. The cool breeze blew fiercely through the shelter sending a shiver down Liesel’s spine, awakening her from her slumber. She peered through the rotten sheet of linen that barely covered her shrivelled, thin body as the sound of little feet and nibbling rustled through her ears. Not of the children, but of mice, eating their way through her pillow; an empty potato bag. She heaved herself up, and staggered off the cement floor, wondering if it was wet or stone cold. Her head spun as she stood for a minute leaning against the mouldy walls to get her orientation back.

Liesel rubbed the sleep from her eyes and

groaned, “Is it morning?” but no one answered.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” she asked louder. Only to hear her voice echo and a distant chirp from a pigeon outside.
The sky was covered by a dark blanket, casting a heavy shadow over the forgotten neighbourhood.

Liesel threw her linen sheet over her shoulders and found her way out of the shelter, in search for something to satisfy her hunger. The acute hunger over the years, had slowly engulfed her body like an animal; manipulating and controlling her body as if she was puppet. Pulling her. Torturing her.

The sound of rubbish bags tumbling their way through the long shoot, echoed through the abandoned alley assuring Liesel’s stomach. It had been three days since she had eaten anything more than a half a slice of mouldy bread. She shoved her hands into the big bin and heaved a bag out, collapsing right after. Wheezing and spacing out, as if she had just ran a marathon.

Still gasping, she rummaged through the bag – feeling, smelling and glaring at the contents as she sorted through the endless bags of waste wishing for something edible. One by one, she drew another object or item from the bags and placed them to the side. The steady pace gradually increasing to a frantic search. Rubbish was soon flying everywhere as she raided the contents. She could feel the plastic bowls, cutlery and cups slowly mounting to her side, whilst the mere slump of shrivelled compost lay dismally on her right. Her face screwed up in frustration. I have to keep searching, I’ll find something, she encouraged herself. She yearned for satisfaction. She yearned for the taste of something other than dirt and river

water.
As she made her way to the last bag, she began to lose hope as her last strand of patience slowly began to wither away. Her stomach growled and frown began to tighten, until she felt something unlike anything else she had felt… her fingers glided across a beaded object, following the intricate embellishments that left a trail of bumps and satin, creating a symphony of coins jingling.
“Could it be?” her voice squeaked as she questioned herself with a hint of hope.
Liesel hurled the foreign object into her lap to find the most exquisite purse she has ever seen. Still glistening, she smeared it clean and carefully plied the purse open. Inside, a chest full of coins and notes lay waiting, eager to be used and exchanged. Liesel’s stomach whirled and heart ached. She knew straightaway that she could sell the purse alone and use the money inside to finally satisfy her hunger – something that she had craved for, for so long. But she knew what she had to do.
Liesel paced back and forth, wiping the rain from her face, as the purse lay glistening, glaring at her as she fought with her thoughts. She fell to the ground as the agony over took her mind. She had to please her hunger quickly but her morals seemed far more important.
Like a band aid, she decided to do it quick “Just in and out,” she instructed herself, “just in and out…”
The door chimed as Liesel entered the apartment building, notifying everyone near the entrance of her presence. She eyed the reception desk and clutched the purse tightly in one hand as she strode to the desk. Puffed, she gazed at the purse for one last time. She handed the receptionist the purse and without an explanation, made her way back to the exit.
Liesel was so focussed on returning the purse to the apartment buildings lost property as quickly as possible, that she hadn’t noticed those in the room. Standing right next to her at the reception desk was the owner of the purse who had come to see if her prized purse had been turned into lost property and to hand out new leaflets of it disappearance. Little did Liesel know, the purse was a limited edition design and had a prize of $1,000 if found and returned.
As she pushed open the doors, a warm hand and smile stopped her mid-step. A plump envelope lay in Liesel’s hands, creating a canvas for the Heaven’s cries.