Tag: short story

Letters: A Short Story

Recently, I saw a prompt to write a story told in letters. I hope you enjoy it!

Dear,

I know I shouldn’t be writing to you anymore. You made that awfully clear with your last letter. But. All the same, darling, I need you. I need to feel the way that I did on that late summer night in your garden, the stars bright above us, determining our fates and tying us together forever and ever. I need to feel the spark inside of me when you look at me and grin like you used to when we were kids and best friends and oh, so madly in love. I need you, love. And if you deny me that, so be it. I will foster your story, our story and it will be marvelous. I will keep every letter you have written to me, every memory of your joyous, wondrous laugh, every glint of your eyes as you hid a laugh behind your hand, every time your hand grabbed mine. I will treasure the life you have breathed into me forever and I hope you treasure that knowledge. 

With all of my love.



My darling,

It pains my heart to receive no response from you. It is what you told me would happen, I understand, however, I yearn for your sweet paragraphs of your daily amusements. I long to pick flowers from the fields behind your house, then braid them into your hair as you hum the songs you’ve just learned. I ache for how your words sound whispered into my ear as you promise to hold me endlessly. Darling, do you not hear me as I call your name, long and loud, short and sweet? Will you not poke your head out of the window and laugh at me, just once, so I can feel accomplished? Do you deprive me of this too?
I went to the river yesterday, the one where we skipped stones and drank cherry wine, and I thought about you. I wondered what you would think of me, standing at the same spot that you had, climbing the same trees you had, living the same life you had. 

Until the ends of time.


Sweet,

I came by your house the other day. I know, I know, awfully reckless of me, but. Your mother was sick and I had picked up some groceries and if the flowers in my hand were for you- well, no one needed to know that. I knocked on the door, and hearing no answer, let myself in. Your house was empty, the faint, almost eerie, ticking of the grandfather clock. The floorboards had collected a layer of dust, the living room rug rolled up and placed to the side. Sweetheart, I cannot tell you when my stomach began to sink, when the truth set in. It was all I could do to not run to your room, to paw through the drawers, the cabinets, searching for the slightest trace of you. But I gathered myself, and with the slightest tremble in my hand, pushed open your door. And I found it. I found your letter, love. I know it now. You’re gone, off on a grand adventure, and I’m still here, writing letters to your ghost. I understand, my love. I understand. And I love you. Always. 

Your loyal companion.


Beloved,

It has been a year. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss you, without the silent, ever present wish that you were by my side, reading my book over my shoulder. Not a day. Darling, I miss you, that much should be obvious. However, I shall heal. I shall move on, and if your ghost permits it, I shall find someone new. Darling, let me bury this letter by the old willow tree and let it grow with the tree that has watched over us as we lived, loved, and learned. Let me climb the tree and let its branches cover me as I lean my head against its trunk. Let me adore you without needing you, hold on to you without suffocating myself. Darling, let me love you in the only way I know how. 

Forever yours.

The Shadow: Poetry Prompt

Hi! I wrote this short story from the prompt, “You wake up trapped in a strange castle with no memory of how you got there and there’s something lurking in the shadows as you explore the halls.”. I hope you enjoy!

There was a faint, dull throbbing in Emery’s head as she looked up to see stone, more stone than she’d ever seen in her life, elaborate windows, and a gorgeous, gorgeous view of rolling hills and green pastures. She sat up, pressing a hand to her forehead, adjusting the tiara (tiara?) that sat on her head, walking over to the window. The glass was cool to touch, foggy with condensation, and she resisted the urge to draw on it, to sit there and doodle and forget her senses and why she was there and really where she was.
She took a deep breath, walking over to the door, and pulling it open with a sense of finality. The hallway was deserted, completely silent. Emery’s gaze darted to the side, seeing a faint wisp of something, something dark, menacing, hiding in the corner, a shadow, really. It called to Emery, telling her to touch it, to let its cool, refreshing solitude wash over her. 
Emery blinked and the moment was gone, the voice of the shadow just a figment of her imagination. Maybe the whole castle is too. Maybe I’ll wake up in just 5 minutes and I’ll never see this place. Wouldn’t that be nice. She continued walking down the hallway, pausing as a stairway appeared in front of her, so sudden it was like it was enchanted. She risked a glance behind her, watching the shadows in the corner shrink and grow, pulsing towards her. She pushed down her growing sense of dread and continued up the staircase, counting the steps as she did, pushing open a small door at the top of the stairs to open up into a small room. One of the castle’s turrets, she would assume, a square one. 
The shadow was back.
It sat at the top of the stairs, as if waiting for Emery to turn around and notice it. Emery closed her eyes. On top of everything, this…creature (?) just had to be following her. As she turned around to examine the room, its voice spoke in her head once more, loud, bold, unafraid. I know you want to go home…Emery. Or Emmie. That’s what they call you isn’t it? And you hate it, but I bet you’d be ok with being called Emmie if it got you out of here. If it got you away from me.
Emery closed the book she was studying with a thud, letting the cover slam down on its antique, ink-ridden pages. She shook her head. She was imagining things, because shadows couldn’t talk, let alone talk in people’s heads, and this place must be making her dream. It must all be a dream and she would wake up and be normal and go to school and live her normal life and-
You know, it’s sweet how you have all these hopes and dreams. Most people that end up here don’t. And so, they end up being these unsatisfying hosts, but you. You’re different. Aren’t you, Emmie?
The shadow was almost on top of her. And then it was in her and then it was her and her thoughts and the shadow’s thoughts were just one and the same and there was no distinguishing, no real difference between the two.
The shadow wanted a host, after all. And it had gotten one.


Test Day- a Short Story

In English class, we had to write a short story with the prompt I was digging through all the junk in the attic when I found a button that…. I hope you like my story!

On October 8th, the day of my biggest test, I was trying not to panic. I was frantically digging through all the junk in the attic, searching for a button, occasionally pushing my tangled brown hair out of my face, my emerald eyes scanning the old, worn-down boxes relentlessly. An orange, pulsing glow filled the attic as I staggered backwards, throwing my tanned hands up over my eyes. As soon as the glow had faded, I wandered over to where it had come from, my curiosity getting the better of me.

Inside an old and faded purple silk bag was a bright orange button that whirred when I touched it.
“Yes! A button, at last!” I ran my blistered fingers over the plastic surface, deeming it perfect. I ran downstairs, slipping the button into my messenger bag as I did so.
“Late again, Ari?” Mom’s voice was sharp and disapproving. I almost showed her the button, but what was the point? She wouldn’t understand, she never did.
“Sorry Mom,” I looked down at the floor, hoping she wouldn’t drag it out.
“Let’s go,” her tone was brisk and unforgiving, her high heels clicking acroos the floor to the car.

She didn’t speak to me as we drove to school, letting me out of the car quickly. No one greeted me when I walked in, their eyes glued to the front of the classroom in anticipation. I took a deep breath, laying the button on my desk as I found myself adopting the same posture as my classmates.

Today was Test Day, the day that would determine your success or failure in the world. Out teacher, Ms. Zarrah, would call us up to perform out craft, granting us with either a pass or a fail. I worked with buttons, magicking them to my will. Glancing at everyone’s desks, I saw an array of objects, none of them as interesting as mine.

Suddenly, the small, nervous side chatter that had been collecting came to a halt as someone entered the room.
“Greetings, students,” Ms. Zarrah’s warm auburn eyes twinkled as she surveyed our class, “We’ll get started now,” Every second felt like an hour as my friends were all called up. Most people passed, blatantly showing their relief. I shifted at my desk impatiently, my hands itching to do something.

“Rancock, Arianna. Please come up with your object of choice,” I stood up, clutching the button tightly. I was slightly shaking and my heart was pounding, though I tried not to show it.
“Will you need anything?” Ms. Zarrah’s comforting voice put me at ease.
“Yes please, some fabric,” I asked politely. She beamed, handing a piece to me.
“Let me see your object now….” she gasped as she examined my button, then turned and announced to the class, “No magic items are to be used. Disqualified,”

Everyone let out gasps as I trudged to the back of the class, tears stinging my eyes. I couldn’t concentrate for the rest of class and it took all my willpower not to run away as soon as the bell rang. The only thing that stopped me was Ms. Zarrah.
“Ari, come back here please,” I gathered up my courage and walked back to her desk.
“Yes Ms. Zarrah?” I said sweetly, awaiting her lecture. She sighed.
“Your mother had predicted that something like this would happen, and so she asked me to give you a do-over,” I let out a small gasp, daring to hope, “There’s just one problem,” my shoulders slumped again and I looked away, “Your mother wanted you to do cooking,”

This “cooking vs. button” thing that my mom had created was the exact reason I couldn’t show her the button. She had always wanted me to have a craft in cooking, never seeming to understand what a dead skill it was.
“I can’t give you many hints, but think Ari. Why can’t you cook on a button?” My eyes widened as I understood what Ms. Zarrah was trying to say. She gently pressed an ordinary pale blue button into my hand and closed my fingers around it.

The next few hours were a blur as I baked my way through 3 desserts on the button which I had enchanted to do the work. Mom had taught me the recipes over the course of several exhausting days. Ms. Zarrah hummed with delight as she tasted my decadent brownies, perfectly balanced cupcakes, and my fresh and fruity apple cake.
“These are delicious! You passed with flying colors, Ari, great job,”

I beamed. I had found a way to make everyone happy in a style that was uniquely me. I had finally done a good job and done it well.

The Tsunami: A Short Story

I soared through the water, my flippers propelling me forward, and forward, and forward……………… Finally, arriving at the perfect momentum I spun around with the exact force coming to a stop right before Liz, my gymnastics coach. She laughed, then clapped for me, “You are doing so great Alexi!” she exclaimed, “You are definitely going to win the Gymturtle show!” I blushed with pride, well as much as a turtle can blush anyways. See, I’m Alexi, daughter of Oma and Letti, two great gymnastic stars who used to be wildly popular, but have been losing their talent ever so slowly. I have been wanting to find out why for years and the only way for me to do that was to participate in the show in which they started losing their powers. The thing is, the Gymturtle Extravaganza was one of the hardest shows to win and I needed to win it. So of course when I mentioned it to Mom and Mother, they hired me the best coach they could find, Liz! The only person who knew why I was actually doing the show was my best friend, Salem. She was a turtle just like me, but we had totally different personalities. Speaking of, here was Salem swimming towards me! As soon as I saw her, I smiled, but then seeing the look on her face, the smile dropped. “Hey Liz!” she said quickly before turning to face me. “Have you noticed the water drop?” she asked frantically. I frowned a bit, “No, I can’t say I have” As soon as I started paying attention to the sea, though, I could tell that it had changed. We all looked at each other, frightened. We decided to check our houses to find our parents and friends, then meet up in front of my house. As soon as I swam into my house though, I knew it was empty. Since I had time to spare, I decided to look around my neighborhood park to try to find some of my other friends. Everyone was missing! I had a bad feeling about what was about to happen……. Suddenly, a colossal wave hit me from the back and I felt so scared! As soon as I could, I went to find Liz and Salem. It wasn’t easy though, sand was scattered everywhere and coral was flung everywhere in sight. The only way to find them was through sound. I sighed. I was amazing at school, always getting A+ on my work. The only thing which I had trouble with was sound location. In my defense, it is really really hard. I shook myself. Why was I thinking about school, when I really should be thinking about Liz, Salem, and sound? Huh. Salem and sound. Salem was amazing at soundcation (sound location). I knew if I gave her a turtle call, she would trace her way back to me. Perfect. I knew I only had one chance to make it right, so I closed my eyes and concentrated hard. I let loose a sharp click cry then fell silent. I silently prayed hard for Salem to hear it and trace her way back to me. 5….4…..3…..2…..1…. “Hi!” I heard Salem call from behind me, Liz right next to her. “Great click call! Ms. Are would be proud!” I snorted a bit then hugged my bff. “Sooo,” Liz ventured. We separated quickly. “Did you find anyone?” she continued. I shook my head sadly, “No, I even checked the park!” “Yeah, I didn’t find anyone either,” Salem said sadly. “I did find something pretty interesting though! Follow me!” Liz exclaimed. Keeping a close on my friends, I swam through the water cleanly, determined not to lose Salem and Liz. Soon we reached the shore, a place where we came all the time to eavesdrop on the humans. “Translate for us!” Salem nudged. I concentrated and then turned back to my friends. “It’s not good news. The current drop we felt earlier, that’s because a tsunami happened.” My friends looked at me blankly. I sighed. “A tsunami is basically a giant wave,” I explained. They nodded, not understanding for a bit, then realization set in and they sat up straight. “Will it happen again?” Liz asked frightfully. I listened for a bit longer then concluded no, it wouldn’t happen again. Suddenly, I heard the familiar creak of the gates. A flood of friends rushed in and Oma and Letti surrounded me in a hug. They were breathing heavily. “Didn’t you hear the alarm?” they asked. “No,” I admitted, “I was too busy training” They hugged me again and I was happy. The Gymturtle Extravaganza could wait.  I was with my family and friends, right where I needed to be.