[ OT ] Sunday Free Write : Leave A Story , Leave A Comment - CliffsNotes Edition

One of the stories I have for a collection of really short stories ( most flash fiction ) aimed at young readers. 
 
 PAPER BAG 
 
 Melanie watched the paper bag bounce across the parking lot, seemingly carried along by the mild wind. It was not an unusual sight, as trash blew by all the time but, something about this particular paper bag had her intrigued. It wasn ’ t that the bag was anything special. It was just a plain, old, brown grocery bag. The kind you could find in any grocery store. She couldn ’ t tell if it had a grocery name printed on it as it was too far away. Not that she really cared. But, for a brief moment, it pulled her away from her own problems—like Susan not texting her back. 
 
 She was just about to turn her head back to her phone when the bag finally stopped. It had blown up against one of the cart returns and gotten stuck up against a shopping cart. But, it didn ’ t stop moving. 
 
 Something was in the bag. And, whatever it was, it was alive. 
 
 “ Oh, my god, ” she whispered, thinking someone had left a kitten or a bird, in the bag. 
 
 She leaped up from the sidewalk and ran to the cart return. She grabbed the bag and quickly looked inside. 
 
 There was nothing there. Nothing but empty space. 
 
 She held the bag for a few seconds, then dropped it on the ground, more concerned with why she thought something had been inside of it than she was about littering. The wind caught hold of the bag and slowly began dragging it across the parking lot again. She watched it bounce for a few feet before being picked up by the wind and shooting into the air. She was just about to turn away when the bag suddenly dropped from the sky—like it was suddenly heavy—and crashed to the asphalt. She could hear the thump as it landed. 
 
 “ No way, ” she whispered, then looked around to make sure no one was looking at her. “ This is just too weird. ” 
 
 Her curiosity got the best to her and she went after the bag again. She looked around, wondering if it were some kind of prank—maybe one of her friends using some kind of remote control to move the bag around. 
 
 The closer she got to it, the more it began to move. By the time she was in arm ’ s reach, it was shaking and rattling like something was trying to get out. 
 She hated to admit that she as a little scared. Even though it was still daylight, and there were no shadows for things to hide in, she couldn ’ t stop the creepy feeling from grabbing hold of her. But, she was more curious than afraid, and since she never liked to think of herself of one of those scaredy cats, she kept moving forward until she was standing over the bag. 
 
 As she reached down, it stopped moving, just like it had earlier. She jerked away from it, startled. 
 
 Now, she was annoyed. If this was a joke, somebody was getting punched. 
 
 She reached down and grabbed the bag. But, instead of looking inside, she tore it apart—angry at the situation. 
 
 The bag screamed. 
 
 Melanie dropped it and nearly fell backward. The bag fell to the ground, where it rolled and wriggled—loud, piercing screams coming from it. 
 
 She didn ’ t know what to do, so she stood there—frozen in place, her hand covering her mouth—and listened to the bag crying out in pain. 
 
 Slowly, the screaming grew quieter. Its movement slowed and eventually ceased altogether. It now lay still and quiet. Melanie continued to stare at it for a few more moments, before turning and running for the department store entrance, barely able to hold back her own screams.
