Short Story Contests discussion
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Week 17 (Feb 16 - Feb 21) DONE
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((um... if the topic's "promise", than why can we "write about a farmhouse, your favorite animals anything long as you have the word in it!" ...? ))
Mod
haha wait, which contest was that one from?
i was wondering that too... i couldn't remember that as a topic... :D
Mod
ooooh i liketh this one!! I didn't do valentines day because i was busy boycotting. Lol, but i have a few ideas...
Wait. If i want to do this one, where do I post it when i'm done? Thanks!
you'd post it right here, on this topic. np :D
*gasp.*actually, i expected that.
haha...
we all know that : P lol chandani!!!
O.Owow... that was extremely descriptive... really good! and shocking.... :D
wow.... VERY descriptive! lol! uh, like didn't see that one coming! haha good though...
If I win, please put my story on Short Story Galore.Title: My Best Friend’s Secret- One I had to Keep
Number of words: 551 words
Megan leaned over and breathed the words “it was me” into my ear. I turned my head towards her and looked at her with a surprised look on my face.
“But shhh! I want you to pinky promise that you won’t tell anyone. Promise that you won’t even bring it up. I told you because I trusted you and because you’re my friend. Ok?”
Megan looked at my with a completely serious face. I stared back at her pretending to be making a hard decision. Megan’s face turned to worry and since I didn’t want her to be scared, I stuck out my pinky finger. We pinky promised then picked up our lunch trays and headed towards the trashcans.
Megan smiled at me, “Thanks, Steph. I knew I could trust you…Again!”
I smiled back, “Sure. I knew that you were getting desperate. You can always tell me things”
We dumped our leftovers in the trash bins and stacked our trays on the counter. We shared one more smile and went our separate ways. We didn’t have the same fourth period class but we ate lunch together to make up for it.
* * *
Three periods later, school was out and I was riding the bus home. I was thinking about what Megan told me at lunch. She said three words that were so important to her to keep secret. I knew I had to tell our teacher. She was the one who was experiencing the pain of Megan’s so called “harmless tricks.” Well, she wasn’t necessarily the most normal of our teachers or smallest.
Megan’s tricks were meant to be harmless. They were supposed to be funny jokes. They were like, putting a tack on Mrs. Miller’s chair just to hear her squeal. Or like taking her hand sanitizer. Mrs. Miller was crazy about being clean. One time she took the laser pointer and started making it look like she had red dots all over her. Then she shone it in her eye. Mrs. Miller cried “A bird!” This made everyone burst out laughing. As the tricks kept coming, people kept wondering who was doing them.
I knew I had to tell Mrs. Miller tomorrow.
* * *
The next day, I had Mrs. Miller first period. I went in early and walked up to her desk. I told her everything. I told her about the laser pointer tack, hand sanitizer, and all the other tricks. Then I said “I know who did them. Megan.”
“Thank you Stephanie. Greatly appreciated. I will take care of it from here.”
“Ok Mrs. Miller. Thank you.” Right when I sat down the bell rang and all of my classmates swarmed in.
* * *
After class, Megan was called up to Mrs. Miller’s desk. I packed up slowly so I could walk with Megan to our next class. When they were done talking, Megan walked to her desk, grabbed her things, and left without me.
* * *
Megan avoided me for a very long time. Finally, I decided that I didn’t want to completely lose my best friend. We talked and we cried and she told me it was ok. “It was wrong of me to do that anyway.” We smiled, hugged and walked together. I had just gained back my very best friend.
Total word 822. Written by Paul. Yes I would like to be featured on the website if I win.
THE GREAT ESCAPE
Karen watched the lazy game of cricket being played out from her superior position upon the playground swing. The swing was rusty and old; the seat broken, its jagged plastic teeth grinning like a shark. Karen was humming as she swung rhythmically back and froth, the tortured metal grinding in pain.
Shutting her eyes she enjoyed the warm summer breeze upon her face. In the distance she could hear the smack of leather upon willow and with it the cheered cries and composed clapping of the crowd.
As her bare legs glided though the weeds and nettles her tiny frame flew once more into the golden sky and she imagined herself flying.
High above the playing field she rose; above the playground littered with needles and empty beer cans. Above the cricket pavilion and its lethargic crowd she ascended until she could see the whole town, its terraced houses, quaint shops and cobbled streets.
She felt a stirring of happiness as she imagined David walking the cobbled streets to meet her at their special place. She felt a shifting in her belly and swelled with pride as she rehearsed her speech in her head for the hundredth time. With her news she imagined tears of happiness as they plotted their escape from this dreary town and its limitations.
She felt rather than saw his presence behind her as she used her battered trainers to stop the swing in a cloud of dust. As she grinded to a halt she heard the crunching of glass as he made his way over to her.
‘Hi Pumpkin!’ he cried, throwing big strong arms around her. In his arms she felt safe and secure. She loved his smell, a mixture of peppermint and a heady aftershave.
Playing with his baseball cap he said, ‘Babe, I’ve got something to tell you.’
Grinning from ear to ear Karen replied with, ‘Me too, I couldn’t wait to see you tonight.’ Leading her by the hand they sat upon graffiti covered roundabout. ‘You go first. What news has got you so nervous.’
‘How do you know I’m nervous?’ he asked.
‘Your biting your bottom lip, you always do that and play with your hat. What is it?’ He didn’t answer at first, merely pushing the ride slowly round and laying back. ‘Is it your mum and Dad, them not liking us sleeping together?’ He gave a little chuckle. ‘After all we’re both fifteen, we’re adults now. Besides we love each other and that’s all that matters,’ she said kissing his rough lips.
‘And I love you to. That’s why telling you this is so bloody hard.’ Karen felt tears start to well in her green eyes. He was going to finish with her, tell her the great dream and escape was over. ‘Been walking round and round trying to get the words right in my head.’
‘Oh bloody hell, your dumping me aren’t you?’ she cried.
‘Don’t be so stupid, I love you, haven’t I told you often enough?’
Lying down, they watched thick fluffy clouds float dreamily across the darkening sky.
‘What then?’ she quietly whispered into his ear.
‘I’m moving away to Australia. Dad’s got a big promotion in his job and we’re emigrating with him,’ he quickly blurted out.
‘But you don’t have to go,’ she said, floods of tears flowing down her cheeks.
‘I have to, it be a chance to escape away from all this,’ he said, gesturing around the rubbish strewn playground. ‘Once we get settled, we’re bring you over, we’re have a real chance over there.’
Karen wasn’t listening as she said, ‘we’re get a flat, something small to start with. I’ll finish my studies, you can get a job.’
‘A job, that’s a joke love. People with an education can’t find work, what chance have I got? This is my best chance of a fresh break, away from the gangs, drugs and all that crap. I’ve got to go.’
‘What about me? What about us and our future together?’
‘Once we settled you can come and visit and stay. I’ll write everyday and remember I love you pumpkin. This is our best chance of making it.’
‘Your right,’ she said, patting her growing stomach affectionately.
‘What about your news, is it as dramatic as mine?’ he said, cuddling up close.
‘No, it will wait till the morning.’
‘I’ll better be getting back and help pack. You see me in the morning?’
‘Try and keep me away,’ she said, kissing him goodnight.
As he wandered away she climbed back on the swing and slowly swung back and froth, the tortured metal growling in agony.
‘I’ll be back for you, that I promise,’ he called back, his lengthening shadow disappearing round the crumbling wall of the playground.
THE END.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Mod
Word: 580
Genre: general-fiction
By: Arthur
Notes: I wondered what if, but couldn’t put its story into words. Then a longer version with another character was too long of course. A strange longer story condensed into a very small story.
* ** * ** * ** * ** * ** * ** *
A Promise As Promised
Patrick Ruben had become famous overnight in his college with his crazy new medical science cure he was able to patent. Only once before on one patient who miraculously lived he had proved his doctoring and a cure for Locked-In syndrome. He was given full endorsement and soon had developed the KickIn-Virus-LX-Dopy serum which fight viruses with a phenomenal level of success as variables are all matches of symptoms of diseases and he went one further obtaining his cure. Maintaining that health returned after his procedures as an exact science he had a patent for saving life or death.
Matt one day had been found near death paralyzed. Remedies in the hospital proved futile. Matt reacted strangely to medication and clinically was dead. He had a time and date of death and was taken to be analyzed in the morgue.
Patrick Ruben learned that Locked-In syndrome may have been the cause. He attempted the use on a person who had died the KickIn-LX and with a new promise of reversing the causes of death. The churning of death lifted its veil and miraculously Matt regained consciousness. His health and feelings returned within weeks. Whatever the medical treatment the hospital used at the time to his recovery Matt regained and left the hospital.
Months later he had to return. Daybreak had come in spilling into the room, and it was bright blue and newly sunny. The light was let through a small window. A bird chirped and chirp. It then flew and chirped some more and scratched the roof. That was noticeable. The room was filled with such sounds. Pails for washing in the hall scratched against the walls. Mops washed the floor and scratched up dirt. Nearby doors scratched and clicked and latched or after opening. There was nothing more than feeling what then went beyond normal sensations and it all seemed to narrow up as scratchy feelings.
There he was a little man, named Matt who defined existence by scratches. He never physically felt one, not on his face or a brush near one of existence, he only heard them in his mind, such scratching. He could not go out of his straight jacket without a scratch. But by his mind his freedom to leave if not to fear scratches but he did all day. He has lived his life a second time, now scratching he knows he could not make an important choice. One to respond to being procreative and respond as an individual. He flatly refused.
He refused because Matt believed he was now an experiment like some creation of a monster like Frankenstein. It made him scratch. It was hard to believe he had only one second ago, (before he died) been given a second chance he could not remember, but it meant his being resurrected and because of medication. He felt like a cyborg. He felt like a scratch. He felt he had to explain himself that he was normal. Patrick Ruben defined life after death as just living again. Nothing more, nothing less. Matt had other ideas less brilliant and much darker, like he had let down the world when he died and was still doing it because he lived. Still he tried to forget his death experience. He tried to live life a second time given the chance. But he scratched and scratched and something unstable in his personality yet unexplored by the doctors kept him locked up to explain life after death.
The End
What do you know! we have a 3 tier! Congrats to Kali Carter and Paul! You can certainly look on the website to see your story up on the world wide web : ) Thanks for joining in this weeks contest!
Please do not use a story previously used on goodreads. After the week's contest, you are welcome to put it on your profile writings, but please refrain from using stories you have already put on there.
You have until Saturday afternoon to post a story on here. Please post it directly onto this topic, rather than posting a link. Also, please do not discuss stories on here. You must go to Weekly Short Story Contest Discussion http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/6... for that. This will avoid any clutter and confusion, so that people can simply come on here and read the story, without having to read comments on the story.
This week's Topic is Promise. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Objections post. The rules are pretty loose. You can mean pledge something, could mean to assure or warn, write about a vow to someone, anything long as you have the word in it!
Weekly stories must be at least 500 words long to 2,000 words long. (if the whole story won't fit in one post, divide it into two)
Good luck!
Arthur [acting for Clare:]
P.S. PLEASE say if you would like to have your story on Short Story Galore, if you win. This way it wouldn't take me ages to get your consent afterwards. This includes adding a link to your stories. If you want to have your story on the Short Story Galore, but not the link, just say so.