forum Short Story Writing Competition #1
Started by @LittleBear group
tune

people_alt 7 followers

@Masterkey

I'll post mine now then!

“I’m sick and tired of living a life without excitement.”

“Caren, you’re fifty-two, what kind of excitement do you want?”

“More than what I’ve had my whole life!” Caren exclaimed, jumping up from her rocking chair and dropping the cross-stitching she had been working on for what felt like one hundred years.

“Caren!” Her sister Josie said. “Your life’s work! Be careful with it!” Caren stomped on and kicked the ten foot cross-stitch project across the porch, then she put her hands on her hips and nodded triumphantly.

“CAREN!!” Jolie screeched.

“I don’t care. I’ve never cared about that.” Jolie gasped, feeling faint from the fact that her passion in life had literally been trampled over by her own sister and roommate.

“Sorry about that,” Caren said, not sounding sorry in the least. “I’ll finish it someday. When I come back from traveling the world, and if you’re dead by then, I’ll lay it on your grave.”

“But why? Why the sudden change in heart?” Jolie demanded. Caren was silent for a moment. Then she said,

“I found that letter last night. I’ve thought about it all day and now I’m leaving.” Jolie immediately knew the implications of what her sister had just said. She couldn’t say a word as Caren marched back into the house, grabbing an old carpet bag from the closet, shuffling upstairs in her room to gather clothes and other supplies, and then marching back down to pick up her favorite black cane, which happened to double as a sword. Jolie had always disapproved of the cane-sword, but Caren would never have given it up. Jolie thought to herself that she shouldn’t be surprised by all this, after all. The fact that Caren had kept that cane along with her ships in bottles collection, the pocket knives from her late husband Tom, and the adventure novels of her childhood were dead giveaways that Caren would never be the quiet old sister Jolie wanted. Jolie still caught Caren huddled up on the couch devouring those novels on rainy days.

“Where’d you put my passport, Jolie,” Caren demanded, standing before her in a grey trench coat, her husband’s old traveling trousers, and a withered flower hat.

“I…” Jolie stammered, not wanting to admit that she feared this would happen all along. “It’s in the jar full of eggshells that I didn’t want you to touch.”

“What? So you weren’t saving them for Easter?”

“No. I wasn’t even going to compost them. I just know you hate eggs, so I figured you’d never look there.”

“Damn. Well, this will be my first challenge of many that I must overcome.” Caren bagan to troop bravely back into the house, when Jolie added,

“I’m sorry.” Caren stopped in her tracks, silent.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, I’m sorry.”

“Yes, yes. And for what?”

“Don’t be mad, Caren!” Jolie started tearing up.

“I’m not mad. Just furious. And don’t start that nonsense,” Caren demanded. “I know you’ve never cried sincerely in your life. Now just explain yourself outright.”

“I just didn’t want you getting any crazy ideas from him. That’s why I hid it.” None of Caren’s relatives had approved of the match. Tom had been in the military when Caren met him when they were eighteen, and it was love at first sight on both sides. Caren was enraptured by his sense of adventure and duty to his country, Tom loved her thirst for excitement, and they both swore to never live in one place for more than a year when the war was over. He died in battle five years later, leaving no children. Caren never wanted to marry anyone else. It was all her uptight family could do to keep her from running off to the war, anyway. Jolie had tasked herself with keeping her sister grounded and in good, civilized society, keeping that last letter hidden like her father had desired. And now she had finally failed.

“It’s been too long. I can’t believe you would do this to me, Jolie,” Caren said softly, her callous nature slowly falling away to reveal her heart. Jolie refused to feel any guilt right now.

Maybe later. I’ve said sorry and that’s the Christian thing to do, she thought, not saying anything back to Caren. Caren walked into the kitchen, dumped the eggshells onto the floor along with her passport (and a shark tooth necklace that Jolie had also stolen from her), picked them up, and left the eggshells for her sister. She marched out the door and down the porch steps, never looking back, tying the necklace around her neck. As she walked down the mile long gravel driveway to hitch a ride at the main road, she read the letter to herself for the hundredth time, smiling like a schoolgirl with a first crush, feeling more free than she ever had.

Hi there Caren.

It looks like I’m dying. I was an idiot and saved a buddy of mine from getting shot, and so got shot myself. No doubt your family will confiscate this letter by the time it reaches you, since they’ll take you back to their place after receiving the telegram of my death. Stupid telegrams travel faster than personal letters. Whenever you find this, since I just have a feeling you will, hang in there. These past five years I’ve been the happiest man alive, I’ve loved every moment we could spend together. I just wanted to tell you that, in case you didn’t know from the other times I’ve said so. Also, please leave that family of yours and travel the world for me. I’d like you to see the following places first:

1. The Grand Canyon. Hike that one trail the traveling fiddle player guy (whatever you’d call him) told us was the best spot to see the sunrise, please.
2. The Amazon River. I don’t care which spot on the river you go to, just tell me when you see me again if there are actually piranhas in it.
3. The top of the Eiffel Tower. Of course. Pretend you’re with me and it’s really romantic. And I dare you to take the stairs.

I’ll see you later, my dear.
Tom

@LittleBear group

@ReiniDays, @LeafyLemur and @DarkWolf, I'm sorry about the confusion about the deadline, that's on me. So I am extending the deadline to tomorrow at midnight and also the results will be ready by midnight Saturday. Those of ya'll who have already posted feel free to continue editing your posts until then if needed. @LeafyLemur I would welcome another judge, but if you want to go back to being a competitor that would be fine too!

Deleted user

Oh! Ok, well, I'm pretty busy tomorrow anyway, so I'll just go ahead and judge! :)

@DarkWolf

@ReiniDays, @LeafyLemur and @DarkWolf, I'm sorry about the confusion about the deadline, that's on me. So I am extending the deadline to tomorrow at midnight and also the results will be ready by midnight Saturday. Those of ya'll who have already posted feel free to continue editing your posts until then if needed. @LeafyLemur I would welcome another judge, but if you want to go back to being a competitor that would be fine too!

Thank you! If I don’t get my story done, I’m happy to judge. But that’s only if I don’t finish my story.

Deleted user

Thank you so much! I just completely panicked because I have too many quizzes to study for tonight and not enough time.

@song-of-the-fairy

It's short but here it is

I woke up. I heard the clattering of pots and pans from downstairs. For a moment, I panicked. Glancing to the other side of the bed, I realize Lena wasn’t next to me. Begrudgingly, I throw of the sheets and make my way downstairs. I slide my fuzzy, pastel purple socks across the wooden floor at the base of the stairs. Lena looked over her shoulder before turning back to the stove. Her white blonde hair flowed past her shoulder, blending into her pale skin. She has hazel eyes that glimmer under the lights of the kitchen. She has on a hazel cami and loose black shorts.

“Morning Sleepyhead,” she calls, moving bacon onto a plate to cool.

“Morning,” I groan back, sliding onto one of the stools of the breakfast bar.

She pops some toast into the toaster before she turns to look at me, “Mady, you have work in 15 minutes. You’re not even dressed yet.”

“Unfortunately you are correct,” I say as she slides a plate of bacon and toast in front of me before getting herself a plate and taking the seat next to me.

She rolled her eyes before flashing me a smile. “I got the mail,” she said through bites of toast.

“Anything interesting?” I asked, glancing over at the pile of mail on the counter.

“Bills, and something addressed to you,” she responded, reaching for bacon.

“Did you open it?” I ask, reluctant to get up and read it.

“No. Didn’t recognize the sender,” Erin practically inhaled the rest of her plate and started to wash up in the sink.

“Ugh,” I groan as I get up. I rip open the envelope while Erin looks over my shoulder.

I reached in and pulled out a folded slip of worn paper. Opening the paper, I see the words dancing across the page in thin cursive.

Mady? I hope this made it to you. Hi. I’m- no- that’s not important. Is Erin there? Who am I kidding of course she is. Um- ok- right. I hope she doesn’t know this. Please don’t read this to her. The time at Grandmas when you broke that thing. That time when you fell apart. The time you met that girl. Well, you know what to do. I hope. And I hope Erin doesn’t. Well, goodbye and good luck. I hope you do well.

“Mady, do you understand what this means?” Erin asks.

Fudge, no. I wish I didn’t know. “No,” I respond, throwing her off of me.

“What?” she asks, looking quite hurt.

“Sorry, I’m going to be late,” I call as I run down the hall.

I run down the hall in a cold sweat. I don’t want this to keep happening. Why does this always happen. It always finds me. Always. My body slowly starts to go numb. I’m losing control. I start to turn around. I’m back in the kitchen. No. One step closer. I don’t want to be here. Another step. Turn around. Pick up that knife. Not again. One more step. Why. Erin turns around. Why am I trying.

“What are you-” Erin is cut off. Literally.

I’m back in control. Collapse to the floor. Sobbing. Running. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why. Why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why why. Why?

Deleted user

Guys I know I'm late but there was a family emergency last night and I couldn't get to this. Is there a chance I can still submit?

Deleted user

Thank you so much I'm sorry I didn't get to it sooner

Deleted user

“Milo,” a voice said from the door, “you have a letter.” Milo lifted his head from the dirty counter, wiping a streak of soot from his face. His best friend, Amber, stood in front of him, waving a piece of folded lined paper around in the air. Her strawberry blonde hair, which was usually thrown up in a messy bun of curls, fell down past her waist. It was brushed and perfectly straight, complimenting her pale heart-shaped face.

“From who?” He asked. She shrugged, tossing it on the counter in front of him.

“Read it.” She leaned forward a bit. Milo’s eyes drifted from Amber’s face to the crisp paper. With a sigh, he picked it up and unfolded it.

Dear Miles,

I know that I’m the last person you’d want to hear from, especially in a time like this. However I want you to understand that I never meant for this to happen. I didn’t mean to leave you so suddenly.

Milo glared at the paper after the first few sentences, then crumpled it up into a tightly packed ball and tossed it into the trash bin. Amber swatted him on the head, gray-green eyes narrowed. Milo just turned away from her, picking up a wilted rose from the counter and fiddling with the stiff petals.

“I told you that I didn’t want to hear from Sura anymore,” he grumbled. Tears glistened in his eyes, which had turned from the color of swirling green jewels to a dark forest. Amber let out a small sigh.

“I know, but… I think you should read this one.” She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he looked up. “Trust me, you’d really regret throwing this one away.”

His gaze followed her movements as she leaned down to grab the letter from the trash bin, placing it in front of him. She unfolded it slowly and revealed the beautiful cursive words.

I wanted to be selfish and just stay here with you. I wanted to just let go of my old land and live a long life with you. A few months ago, I was going to propose to you. I wanted us to get out of that horrible city and buy a house on the beach. We’d adopt children, and Amber would open her own little cafe like she’s always wanted to. Everybody would’ve been so happy.

However I realized that we can’t achieve that. At least not yet. I first have to stop running from my past, and finish this war that I started billions of years ago.

It’s likely that I won’t come back from this, so I want you to move on without me. Find a man that can take better care of you than I could. Get yourself out of that crime-ridden city and live the way you’ve always wanted to, just without me.

And whatever you do, please don’t follow me. This war is more dangerous than you realize, and the last thing I’d want is for you to get caught in the crossfire.

With Love,
Asura

Milo’s freckled face was streaked with tears and soot, and Amber watched, concerned. He sniffled a bit folded the paper as neatly as he could, wiping his face with the back of his hand as the tears kept flowing.

“Are you okay?” Amber asked, not sure how to comfort him. Milo shook his head and turned around, taking off toward the stairs in the back. Amber tensed a bit before following him. “Wait, where are you going?” Milo stopped and whirled around, placing both hands firmly on Amber’s shoulders.

“I don’t give a shit about what Sura says. He’s in danger, and I made a promise to always protect him, so that’s what I’m going to do.” The two stared at each other for a long moment. Amber tried to process Milo’s words. He was going to leave his own universe and throw himself into a furious war. Most likely Milo would die trying to defend the man he loved.

But Amber knew there was no way she could stop him. So she just nodded at him, stepping back. He gave her a small smile before he ran upstairs to grab his weapons.

Deleted user

Wait, how do I share a Google Doc without this whole thing crashing?

Deleted user

Wait, how do I share a Google Doc without this whole thing crashing?

Copy and paste it instead

Deleted user

I'm not going to share the Doc, don't worry. I was just wondering because other people seemed to be able to share it, but I'll try that another time.

Deleted user

TITLE: Her Letter
WORD COUNT: 1,233 (I’m sorry it went over, but I couldn’t find a good way to end it and you said around 1,200 was all right for someone else; I thought it’d be fine, but please tell me if you want it shorter)

When the amber hues of afternoon had finally faded and the hushed whispers of the congregation from the town square below had ceased, Vincent drew aside the curtains to the balcony and stood, viewing the city tiredly, for a sign of change. Streetlights burst into pinpricks of light from afar, and he looked on with tired eyes, impervious to the chill that emanated through the glass. The night was inclement and bleak, but nothing, not the lightning or rain brewing in the air, stopped him from sliding the door open and sidling out into dark.
Despite the weather, the view was magnificent. A thick, dense layer of fog hung low above the ground, amplifying the gleam of the lamps, and the golden glow from windows transfigured houses into what could have almost been fireflies scattered here and there. The overcast skies dimmed with every passing moment, yet he felt as if the town had placed a charm over him, luring him in, like a moth to a glorious, if not a tad dreary, flame. There was not a reason for him to stay, but he was immovable, waiting for a moment that didn’t appear to be coming. He felt leaving his spot would guarantee a missed sight or wonder, so he stayed and watched.
“This is foolish,” he murmured, drawing a hand to his cheek, but even his own words couldn’t pierce through his inane desire. “Have I lost my wits? Perhaps. Talking to oneself, as I’ve heard, is a sign of certain madness. How long shall I wait in this repelling storm? Has my insomnia driven me to abhor normality so completely that I cannot even pass the night indoors? I do not know a cause that would be otherwise suitable. To be true, I am most undoubtedly mad.”
Rain began to fall in torrents as he closed the length to the railing. He let it slick his hair and dampen his tailcoat thoroughly, only moving to unfasten the buttons of his collar and unhook his tie. The latter he tossed aside, not bothering to see where it might land, and opened his mouth to taste drops of water. Beads of wetness landed on his fine, dark eyelashes, and tongue, which he swiped across his lips when the need arose. He felt rather unkempt and vulnerable, a mess to be sure, with his rumpled collar and tousled hair, but decided quickly that dressing up for a fictitious audience would be more a hassle than necessary.
“I suppose it is not my fault. This urge is unwelcome, but not genuinely unwarranted. If I were any less of a man, this would surely drive me to worse measures,” he sighed. His feelings, which were evasive previously, now choked him with emotion, and he placed his knuckles to his forehead as a tension built up behind his skin.
“It is odd that I feel such a way, yet I cannot remember a time when such emotions did not assault me so. I’ve ached with this most unshakeable pain for so long that the sun burns me. It is not a wonder, then, that I do not go out in the light. Daytime is a social hour—one that I do not deserve—and I no longer hope to experience it contentedly. Loneliness is my penance for living, and I will surely continue to pay for the burden I am, but I wish ardently that my self-inflicted wounds would not drive her away. The world must think it funny that the only woman that I have ever loved scorns me as if I were an object of disgust simply because I refuse to grant my unworthy self a mere compliment. There never has been such a joke. Why would a burnt-out star commend itself when the Sun blazes so radiantly beside it? Why would a grain of sand acclaim itself when the ocean sparkles nearby? Am I some sort of madman to despise the thought? There is an inescapable hatred that burns for myself alone inside my weak mind. I cannot grant myself the satisfaction of praise.”
“Anna, my lovely, ebullient Anna, I suppose I really cannot compliment myself at all, but that means not a thing. I wish your return more than I wish to wake another morning alone.” He spoke these last words to the sky, as if uttering a prayer, and then ceased to stand as his legs crumpled.
The door opened behind him, and Jolene exited, swathed in a heavy blanket. She made a strangled sound upon seeing him and rushed to his side. He let her help him up, but rested against her in such a manner that she had to adjust a myriad of times to be able to carry his weight. When they were finally ready, they limped to Aunt LaBelle’s antique couch and settled down together. His sister, pale with worry, began to poke and prod him, checking for a sign of illness.
“What is the matter?”
“I am quite alright,” he replied stoically.
Her face became flushed. “You are not! You collapsed! Why would you do such a thing?”
“I was taking a nap. You woke me.”
“Vincent!” she cried. He winced as her mouth grew thin. “Sorry, I just… I worry for you. Even Charlie and Asa have noticed your dismal disposition. Do I need to fetch a doctor?”
“Do not worry. The heart of my problems is myself, Jo, and no man of medicine could fix me.”
Without another word, she removed herself from the room. He sat, mulling over his words, until she came back, an envelope dangling between her fingers. She draped herself over the edge of the armrest and passed it to him.
He pondered it. “What might this letter have to do with my condition?”
“It is from Anna. You always seem happy when she is around, so I assumed this might help.”
Vincent tore it open, heart pounding in his chest. He spread the fine paper out after drying his hands and took a deep breath.
“Read it!”
“Mr. Adler, I hope this letter reaches you in good health. I do not wish to trouble you, but I cannot help but feel as if our last meeting ended poorly. Jolene has been updating me on the condition of your household since I departed. While I am glad that your cousins, especially Maria, have been doing well, I have become rather concerned about your state.”
“Is that all?” Jo asked softly. He turned his head. “Vince?”
“I fear you aren’t well, Mr. Adler, and so I have decided to visit sometime during the next fortnight. Please be expecting me. And…”
“Mercy, finish the letter already!”
“I love you, Vincent,” he finished, chest agonizingly tight. Tears leaked from his eyes as he dashed the letter to the floor. Jolene made a noise of shock.
“Why are you crying? I thought this was what you wanted.”
“It is. I do not know reason.” He swallowed down the truth and wiped his face. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”
Unsure, his sister pursed her lips. “You are very welcome, I believe.”
“Would you get me some tea? Please?” He said it in such a way that she could not refuse, so she pulled herself away from her spot to the kitchen.
Vincent, alone once more, finally dropped his head into his hands and sobbed.

@DarkWolf

(I'm just gonna post it because I have to sleep, but if it's too late just void it and I'll help judge)
“Rae…” A hollow voice whispered.
“Shut up. Get out of my head.” I shot.
“Let me take control.”
“No. Not after what happened last time. I won’t let you take another life.”
“Rae!” This voice wasn’t the same as the hollow one. This one was sharp, but soft at the same time. I jolted awake. My roommate was standing over me.
“Gwen…” I moaned.
“Is it happening again?” Gwen asked worriedly.
“Is what happening again?” My tired brain couldn’t think straight.
“Your wolf form. It’s talking again, isn’t it?”
I nodded. “But I’ll be fine.”
“You should tell your Alpha. I can’t help you but she could.”
“You don’t understand, neither would she.”
Gwen sighed. She picked up my phone. “Call her.”
“No.”
“No?”
“She’ll demote me if it happens again.”
“Doesn’t matter. Call her.”
I took the phone and threw it across the room. “Go away. I’m gonna change then go for a walk.” I did as I had said I would. I walked out of our apartment and to the elevator. I had never enjoyed being in a metal box, held up by a tether and wires. The first time I was in an elevator people must have thought I was crazy. I was hyperventilating, freaking out, wide-eyed. Despite that, I pressed the button and stepped onto the metal box. I was a little uneasy, but managed to fight through. Luckily no one else was in it with me. I walked out of the building. Everything was normal, the scent, the shade of lighting, everything. But after a bit of walking I realized something was off. One scent was missing. Atlas… Atlas’s scent was missing. I ran home. Somehow, whenever I need to get inside urgently the doors stick. I ran up the stairs and quickly ran into the apartment. Before me I saw Gwen with tears in her eyes.
“A letter came while you were gone.” She choked once she saw me. “I read it… thinking it might have been for me.” She handed me the letter.

Dear Rae,
It is with great sadness that I inform you that our beloved Alpha, Atlas Morwood, has passed. She left a will regarding how her personal belongings should be divided. She left you with the largest honor of all; she would like to pass the position of Alpha to you. We would request your appearance for a meeting of the Alpha’s. You also must choose a new Beta, as the position cannot be passed down.
Sincerely,
Delta, Kera Venas
“She’s- She’s gone.” I cried.
“You okay?”
“I never got to say goodbye. I could’ve but I didn’t.”
“Rae. It’s okay.”
“No it’s not. She’s gone and I can never see her again. How long was I gone?”
“A few hours.”
'It didn’t seem like that long…Oh no… I should have told her, and she might still be alive.' I thought, then said, “I think I know what happened to her.”
“What?” Gwen asked.
“I couldn’t control myself… my other self…”