The Little Engine That Couldn't Novels & Stories

“We didn’t go into too much depth on the topic. We were debating who the person is and whether anyone within engineering would have enough guts to help them.” Kai puts his book bag on the table and shakes his head. “The person would have to be stupid to do that. Everyone knows if you do anything to be kicked out of our engineering ranks, you can keep taking the classes, but you lose all the help that the upper classmen provide. Unless you are a genius, you are bound to fail.”

Different tube of crystals sticks everywhere and those fireflies- Oh, fairies? They were tiny that I thought they were fireflies... When one of those tiny creatures may be said "hi" to her when it plays in front of her face, she realized they were fairies. How cute omg! Tinker Bell is real! She danced with them while they fly around her body as if they wanted to lift her. "Aww! This is so fun! Maybe you guys need more pixie dust to make me float," she talks to them pretending she can understand what they're doing.

12. The mini-car’s engine whines more shrilly than usual, and Carrie white-knuckles the wheel. “Something’s wrong,” she says, pumping the brakes. “This crap-bucket’s going sludgy on me.” “Maybe when you hit that old lady, you damaged something,” Trent says. “Car this size, I’m surprised you didn’t bounce right off.”

"No matter what things look like...danger can't be measured by looks alone. I could always hurt you, little songbird. From the moment I asked you to perch at my side and let me feed you. I could've hurt you." "But you didn't," "But I could've. And I still could. Don't get too comfortable little songbird. Don't let your wings rest too much, or you'll forget how to fly away when danger comes."

Unfortunately it was almost evening so they were closed and I had no means to find him there but I didn't lose hope yet. I aimlessly hover in the roads in a hope that I would catch a glimpse of him or his scent and then when was about to change my direction I heard a plea my head moved to the direction of the plea. "Help! please leave me alone! I beg you, don't do this to me! "

**** Indecision was weighing me down,where my emotions were concerned. Nobody had knocked on my door or called me down for breakfast. My stomach grumbled and I placed my hands on it. I didn't know why that worried me much ,but for some reason I couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen.Something I didn't like by any means.i wouldn't anyway,not if uncle Max was perpetrating it. “I can't keep on hiding here while I'm hungry”I grumbled. I walked out of my room, placing my sweaty hand on my gorgeous neckpiece.It was a gift from my late parents to me on my 15th birthday.

Today’s my day off. I should sleep in. If I could, I totally would. So what’s stopping me from languishing in my bed? Seventy-four pounds of fluff is trying to suffocate me as she climbs onto my chest shaking in fear because an ambulance sped past our building with the sirens blasting. Whoever named her Tinkerbell can go to hell with their sense of humor

I like Ryan, he's nice and plays with me. - You do. You have his mammy's name. Do you know where he is? - Ryan left yesterday morning. He is a backpacker and likes to walk through the woods. - the little Scarlet says, showing that she is very smart. - Which way did he go? - To the woods. - Which way in the woods? Over there? – he says, pointing to one side of the forest. - No. He went that way. - the little one says, pointing west.

I turned the key again, and this time the engine reacted with a bitter splutter that went away quickly. The reason I kept moving was because I was passionately appealing to the car's engine, which was its mechanical heart. Outside at night, there was a pressure on the windows that felt like an unseen force, and the growls turned into a scary chorus. With clenched teeth, I turned the key one more time. The engine coughed for a moment before finally giving up in the weighty silence.

The snap sounded like my body's last protest before my hand finally loosened. I had been clutching a transparent ziplock bag, the kind my grandmother used to store her blood pressure medicine. The scientist opened it carefully and removed a folded piece of paper. The bag had protected it from the water. Only the edges were slightly damp. Crayon marks covered the page, words mixed with simple musical notation. The title read, "A Song for Mom." [One little duck went out one day. A home from my dad not far away. Daddy duck said quack quack quack. That little duck came home right away.