Short Story Sunday-#25

I stand at the top of the fortieth floor of an office building, phone in hand. The wind blows my face until my cheek burns. I step towards the edge and glance down. People the size of ants walk on the grey sidewalk and tall green trees wave in the wind. A bird flutters by, making a dog bark and pull its owner along. A bunny hops unseen in the bushes to escape the dog. So much life. They're living the life I could never have. Nobody needs me.

   I loosen my black tie, and take off my suit jacket. Glancing down once more, I don't pay attention to the people or the dogs or the birds. I take a deep breath and lean forwards. Gravity takes over and I feel my feet leave the roof. I start to fall. 

   Everything moves in slow motion. It's as if the whole world has stopped for me. I watch the windows slowly race by. I count the floors and watch the people inside. At the 38th floor, a woman knocks down her large stack of papers. They go flying everywhere. When I reach the 31st floor, a man is watching out the window and takes a double take when I fly past. 

   30, 29, 28. My phone beeps. I realize it's still in my hand. I focus on the screen and read:

Carmen says: Where are you? Dinner's ready and we're eating without you. :)

   Carmen. No. I love her. She'll die without me. What am I doing? 20, 19, 18, 17. 

   I open my mouth to shout for help, but nothing comes out. Help me. Anyone. Help. It's at the tip of my tongue. Please.

   14, 13, 12. No, no. The wind rushes past, making my hair fly. I make contact with the tall trees and break every stick in my path. I somehow miss the branch strong enough to catch me and continue my fall. The world has resumed it's normal speed. People on the street stare at me. A woman screams. 9, 8, 7.

   I look at my phone and type to Carmen.

   I love yo

The ground comes closer and closer. I can imagine it now. My face on the concrete, blood everywhere. People standing around me. An ambulance parked at the curb, people racing from inside it. Sirens, lights. Carmen crying.

   I type the "u". The ground is and arm's length away. My thumb hovers over the send button. Then everything goes black.

There you go. I have this book that gives you things to write about and this was one of them. The book is called 642 Things to Write About. 

Short Story Sunday-#24

The automatic door swings open when I get close enough. With my arms full of packages wrapped in red and green, the automatic door was much needed. My cheeks burn with the dramatic change of temperature. I make my way to the first counter and step in the long line behind a man with a t-shirt saying "Got blood? Give some." I feel like it's kind of a weird thing to say on a shirt.
    My eyes wander to the colorful greeting cards displayed on the wall. I give out a little chuckle at the birthday card of a pug with a party hat and a noise maker.
   "Hank?" A feeble voice says from behind me.
   I look away from the cards and turn around to a woman with short red hair and an armful of Christmas packages.
   She smiles."Hank. It is you. It's so nice to see you. How have you been?"
   We haven't spoken or seen each other for almost 14 years.
   "I'm great. Busy with Christmas stuff and work. How have you been getting on?" I ask.
   "Oh, alright I guess. It's just not the same without you and your father. How has Jamie been?"
   "She's doing fine. She keeps the kids in check."
   "Your kids," she echos. "Marie and George, right?"
   "Yes." I stare out the window. Large fluffy snowflakes fall gracefully and land on the window sill. In the parking lot, people jog to their cars to escape the cold. Children pull their coats tighter while their parent wraps a scarf around their neck.
   "How old is Marie?" My mother asks.
   "She's 14."
   "Goodness. How did that happen so quickly? Last time I saw her she was a little burrito."
   I smile and turn away. The man with the blood shirt steps out of line and I set my packages on the counter with a thump. The woman on the other side sets each box in turn on the scale and sticks a stamp on the corner.
   I walk to the door, and they open for me. I'm about to step out when my mother calls for me.
   "Hank?"
   "Yes?"
   "It was nice to see you again."
   I tell her goodbye and trudge through the snow to my car. When I arrive at my home, I'll wrap another present with my mother's name on it.
 
 

Short Story Sunday-#23

Jessie shoved open the doors, letting the light bathe her. She calmly walked towards the ledge just a few yards from her doorstep. Her dog, Boomer, followed loyally behind her, as she sat on the edge, the water licking at her bare feet. Boomer nudged her hand as if to say, "love me". Jessie closed her eyes and took a minute to listen to the water lapping against the concrete wall and the sound of the wind blowing around her. Her fairy blond hair flew gently in the the air, tickling her pale skin.
   When she opened her eyes, she found Boomer with his head in her lap, his pleading eyes looking up at her. She eventually gave in and rubbed his smooth fur, making him relax and close his eyes. There they sat. The girl and her dog and their big house.
   As the sun rose higher in the sky and the day got warmer, Jessie stood up, rousing her dog from his rest. Together they walked into town, leaving wet footprints in their path. She walked through the market and tried her best to ignore the merchants shouting out their prices and trying to beat the stand next to them. Jessie walked through streets of houses and shops and stopped at none.
   They reached the edge of town and stopped. The concrete ledge was in front of her again. Here, Jessie found a ladder, and rung by rung, she climbed down--still in her clothes--until the water reached her neck. The water felt nice on her skin that has been bearing the weight of the sun for most of the day. The coolness of it chased the heat away. She let go of the ladder and enticed Boomer into the water. He jumped in beside her with a splash.
    Jessie sucked in a breath and dove under the water, kicking her feet in the air, then pulling them under as well. With graceful movements of her arms, she propelled herself forward. To her left, Boomer paddled along with her, keeping his eyes on her. A school of tiny silver fish float by, oblivious of Jessie's presence. Boomer watched the rays of light, piercing the through the water, waver as the water rippled.
   Jessie popped up to the surface with one strong kick, and Boomer surfaces next to her. She gave out a laugh and lay on her back. She swiveled her arms like a windmill and glided across the water.
   When her lungs were filled again, she plunged back down into the refreshing water for another swim.
   At the end of the day, when the sky flared up at the sun's leaving, Jessie and Boomer sat on the concrete ledge. With Boomer's head in her lap again, she watched the sun retreat under the ground. She watched the color of the sky change from yellow to pink, to red and orange, then to dark blue. She watched the sun's reflection shimmer in the water and the birds flying past the orange sky, making the scene picture perfect.
   After the stars had taken over, Jessie turned and strolled back the way she came, her loyal dog prancing at her side.

   Hooray! I wrote a story! I feel awesome to actually be posting a story again. Thanks to my friend (I'm not saying names) for sending pictures and giving me the kick to write this. I honestly needed that. I haven't written anything worthy of posting for a while. 

Updates

Hello, World!
Yes, I know I have been missing the last few SSSs and I don't like it. First of all I was at and over night camp, but also I just haven't been able to write a good story. I keep starting ones and finding that they're stupid or I just can't fit them into a short story. They become a big long book in my head and I know it will never work as a short story. A lot of the short stories are just terrible, cliche or just dumb and I stop writing them. Every time I get a good one, it turns into a book. I'm trying. I'll do my best to get a story out this week, because I have got nothing to distract me now. Here's some things that are going on in my life.

1. I went to an over night camp called Camp Newaygo and I love it there. I want to go back. I did so many fun things there. This was my second time there and I went for a week. This place is amazing.
2. I am learning German! One of my councilors at camp sang a song from Tangled (When Will My Life Begin) in German and it was so pretty. I wanted to be able to do it. First I'm learning German via Mango Languages and then I'm going to learn a song.
3. After Camp Newaygo, I went to circus camp which was also fun. I got really close to being able to juggle and learned some new tricks on the trapeze. At the end of the week, we had a performance for our parents. Circus camp was really hard and all my muscles were sore after everyday. But, it's still really fun.
4. Since I'm going to be in Honors English again, I got homework! I have never gotten homework in the summer before. But it's not too hard, and I'll be done soon.

Those are the big things that have happened. I'm working on getting a story up! Goodbye! Or should I say Auf Wiedersehen!

Short Story Sunday-#22

Kiara's Hunt

Kiara steps out into the light, and takes it all in. The sun streams through the tall trees, making spotlights on the jungle floor. She stands in a spotlight, listening to the beautiful sounds around her. She can hear a distant squawk of a bird calling to its friends. Bugs zip around her head, buzzing as they go, but they don't bother her. Smaller animals scurry in the deep undergrowth and the waterfall constantly rushes beside her. Kiara has become accustomed to these sounds, and she doesn't know what her life would be without them.
   She turns to her babies sleeping in the grass, before silently creeping through the tangle of plants below her feet. Her ears perked, she listens for the perfect prey. While she listens, a large colorful bird flies by, admiring her orange coat. Kiara pays no attention; She is too hungry, and birds aren't her favorite.
   The cry of a monkey catches her ear, and she shoots off into the maze of trees. The call becomes louder as she makes her way towards it. Kiara stops underneath the monkey and stares up at it. It sits on a branch five feet above her head. She gracefully jumps onto the first branch and bats at the monkey above her. It squeals and crawls clumsily along its branch. Kiara pulls herself onto the next branch up and chases the monkey. It continues making high-pitched noises and begins to run faster. As the monkey speeds up, so does Kiara.
   When the branch begins to thin, the monkey hops to another, and Kiara is close behind. Every time she gets close enough to snatch it up, the monkey hops to another branch. Kiara's legs begin to ache, but the sound of her stomach rumbling keeps her going.
   She follows the monkey to a large group of monkeys. Her first thought was that she had hit a jackpot, but now as more and more monkeys appear from the trees, she begins to worry. They snarl at her and some even hiss. Soon, the monkeys begin leaping at her and biting her back.
   Kiara shakes them off and leaps to the ground. She gives the monkeys even more distance for good measure. She collapses to the ground and tries to catch her breath.
   A small bird flutters by. Kiara swats it to the ground and proceeds to eat it. Somehow, the frightening cat manages to eat delicately and almost politely. Immediately after finishing, Kiara feels the energy returning to her muscles, and she stands to find another monkey. This time she has a plan.
   She follows the sound of another monkey cry and finds the monkey in a tall tree. Kiara circles the tree and climbs up the opposite side. She pulls herself up onto each limb until she is just below the monkey. She reaches through the green canopy and claws at the monkey. It squeals in pain, giving Kiara time to leap up and seize it in her teeth. Kiara crawls down the tree, full of triumph.
   Her head held high, she presents the monkey to her cubs. The two of them playfully tackle it and begin to eat. Kiara watches them while cleaning her striped fur. When the cubs are finished, she decides to wash them under the waterfall. The water pounds down on them, cleaning every particle of dirt from their coats.
   Afterwards, they all swim a lap around the small pool at the bottom of the water fall. Kiara hops from the pool and shakes the water off, sending little drops in every direction. She then pulls her cubs from the water and dries them off. They curl up in a patch of sunlight and fall asleep. Kiara then proceeds to drying herself completely then, curls herself around her cubs and watches the ripples in the water reflect the sunlight before falling asleep herself.

   This story idea came from this photo:

  I have always loved tigers and I felt like I needed a story about an animal because all my stories have been about humans (excluding last time's story about the birdcage). So, a story about a tiger just felt necessary. Seeing this photo reminded me to write about a tiger, and here it is!

 

(P.S. The photo of the tiger is not mine and I could not find the original owner if this photo.)

Short Story Sunday-#21

   The Bird

I remember when he was here, the bird, I mean. He flew around and made the most beautiful noises. I loved him. He lived inside me.

   The first time I met him was exciting. I was bought by the man and he set me in the corner of his old house for almost a month. Then finally, the man came home with the bird. He opened me up and let the bird hop inside me. At first the bird didn't like me. He chewed on my metal bars, and squawked for freedom. 

   Eventually he got used to me, and the man brought toys for the bird to play with. Sometimes the man let him out and let him fly around the house while I was left to wait for him to return. The bird sang songs his friends taught him at the pet shop. He taught them to me. Now, I know all the songs, but cannot sing them.

   One day, the man came home with a woman. She seemed very nice and she loved the bird. The woman came home almost every day afterwards. Once, she came with piles of boxes and never left. Soon, they were children. They ran around the house like miniature monsters, annoying any one they saw, except me. They pestered the poor bird, but he still loved them. He told me so.

   I was almost replaced one day, when the youngest child chucked me down the stairs. Seven of my bars were broken, and the bird escaped. I remember the woman's hands on the bars. 'Such a shame,' she had whispered. I was almost taken to the dump and caste away to live among broken dishwashers and cars, unable to house my bird. But the man had many surprises. He was able to twist and glue my bars back in place so I could continue taking care of the bird.

   The house was always full of life with the kids, the bird, and the man with his woman. We were all happy...

   

Now I feel the emptiness biting inside me. I feel the lack of life and joy. I miss my bird. He's gone now, finally free from my cold metal bars. I sit in the corner and watch the world around me. The kids have grown up and left the house for good. The woman sits in her rocking chair humming to herself and the man just walks around the house, taking longing glances at the lack of feather inside me.

   And me? I remember the bird. That is all I can do. I remember the songs, but cannot sing.

Short Story

   A painful howl broke out, waking poor Jennie Sharp from her fantastical dream. Leaving the world of pink clouds and puppies to the real world in the middle of the night with mysterious howling animals was not her ideal situation. The eight-year old girl pushed back her covers and silently walked in her white nightgown to her parents' room. Her hands trembled when she clutched them close to her heart. What could that noise be?

   The door opened with a muffled creak and Jennie patted her mother's shoulder.

   "Mum? What was that sound? Did you hear it?"

   Her mother only rolled over and mumbled, "Go to bed, Jennie."

   "But I'm scared. It could be a monster. What was it?"

   "I don't know. Go find out. It's probably just a dog." She rolled over again and fell back asleep.

   Jennie tried again to wake her mother, but she slept deeply and didn't want to wake up. She walked to a window, pushed back the curtains, and looked out on her small town in the center of Great Britain. So, Jennie took matters into her small hands and found her wellies. She pulled the rubber shoe over her feet and opened the front door. Without looking back, Jennie Sharp stepped into the cold night and shut the door behind her.

   She was instantly frozen cold and decided she should had taken a coat. Jennie pulled on the door, it had locked behind her. 

   Rubbing her arms for warmth, the girl trudged through the pile of autumn leaves to find the source of the howl. She pulled back the bush in front of her house, and looked behind the nearest tree. Nothing. 

   She went to the neighbor's yard and scoured the garden for any sign of life. She peeked into their pond and a frog jumped out and landed with a plop next to her. Jennie sat on her rump and huffed.

   "I'll never find the animal. I want to go home," she told the frog. "I'm tired and cold." A tear slipped down her cheek and she was getting ready to wail for her mother but the howl came out again. Jennie stood up with a jolt and ran down the street to the woods at the end. She pushed past the trees and stumbled into the woods. 

   A distant cry called out, "Jennie! Where are you?" But the girl payed no mind to her mother's frantic calls.

   The howl rang out again. It came from her left. Jennie took off, nearly tripping over a root. The howl came again, but quieter. Maybe she was going the wrong way. The howl became a whimper, but Jennie could still hear it. She walked in the same direction, trying not to make noise in the dry, crunchy leaves.

   She heard the whimper again, very close. She continued on her path, listening to every noise. She heard bugs buzzing and owls hooting. She heard the wind, but neither the howl or the whimper.

   Jennie took a break and sat back down on the leaves, breathing deeply. She listened to her heartbeat. Lub, dub. Lub, dub. Over and over, fast at first then gradually slower. 

   A rustle in the leaves alerted her that she was not alone. Her heart beat faster and faster. She breathed heavier. The whimper came again, quieter yet closer. Jennie bent over and crawled across the ground. She moved the leaves out of the way as she went. 

  Soon, Jennie came to a small pile of orange leaves. She almost bypassed a great opportunity, but a sound came out to alert her of its presence. The whimper. Jennie took another deep breath, then slowly picked off the leaves. Underneath the leaves was a soft orange fur of a fox. It's breathing had become very a labored and it was trembling with cold and fear. Jennie stooped down and lifted the poor soul into her arms. She cradled the fox and rocked it back and forth. She stroked its head and sang to it. When she finished, she told the fox all about her.

   "My name is Jennie Sharp. I came to find you when I heard you cry. I live in a small house with my mum and dad." She laid down and continued to tell the fox all about her life. Jennie curled up next to the fox and closed her eyes. The fox did the same.
   There they slept until the sun rose to awaken them. There her mother found her sleeping with an injured fox in her arms. There they slept all night, together.

I got the idea from this picture. As soon as I saw it, ideas sparked up in my mind like fireworks. I eventually settled on a little girl finding the fox. I decided to set it in Great Britain, because when I lived there, foxes were everywhere. Now, in the US, I never see any wild foxes.

 

(P.S. the photo of the girl with the fox is not mine and I was unable to find the original owner.)

Short Story Sunday-#20

   Hey! It's me. I know I've missed a few SSS's but I've been so busy these last few weeks of school with exams, final projects and just plain old homework. I have also been working on my second book and the story for the contest. It's hard to handle all these things at once, but now that school is out and the story is almost ready, I'll be as free as a bird.
   I'll be writing stories constantly and I might end up posting more than just SSS. Maybe you'll see a SSM or a SSW and a--yeah, you get the point. So, hold on tight because you'll be seeing more of me soon.
   This week I decided that I really liked the last one I did, so I'm going to do another one where I take the lyrics of a song and create a story from it. SO! Without further ado, I give you--this week's SSS!

Amsterdam

   "Hey, Augustine!" He always hated his name. Augustine was absolutely sure it was a girl's name. "You have visitors. Get over there and talk to them." With stiff legs, Augustine stood and made his way to the cell door. The guard's key clinked in the lock and the heavy metal door slid open. Augustine followed the guard to a small room with a desk and a wall made of glass. He sat in the chair and picked up the phone from the desk. With a deeps breath, he held it to his ear and looked into the face behind the glass.

   "I'm sorry, Mother. I'm sorry I let you down."

   "Are you okay?"

   "Well, these days I'm fine. No, these days I tend to lie."

   "Why would you do this? Augustine. Why?"

   Augustine watched his mother's eyes. Tear began to well up and one slipped down her face.

   "Look where you've landed yourself. You're in jail."

   "Only for a few weeks."

   She put on a painful smile and asked him, "What will you do when you get out?"

   "I'll take the west train, just by the side of Amsterdam, just by my left brain, just by the tin man."

   "Ahhh, the tin man." A famous sculpture by the west train station. Augustine and his siblings used to spend their time their, playing.

   "Excuse me," the guard interrupted, "but your time is up. Next please!" His mother looked shamefully at him once again before setting down the phone and walking away.

   A new face appeared before him.

  "Augustine, I told you this would happen."

  "I'm sorry, brother. I'm sorry let you down. Well, these days your fine, no these day you tend to lie."

  "Hurry up!" The guard had begun to get bored. His lunch had started and he was ready to be done with this.

  "Oliver, listen. When I get out, I need you to do something."

  "Me? You're the one who stole--"

  "Oliver! We're running out of time! Listen. You'll take the west train, just by the side of Amsterdam, just by your left brain, just by the tin man. Bring her with you."

   "Mother?"

   "No, Jul-"

   "Time's up! Get off the phone, now!"

   "Do it, Oliver. Do it for me." With that, Oliver was left speechless while his brother was dragged away by a prison guard. He set down the phone and walked away to meet up with his mother. Why would he want him to bring Julie? Julie hated him now. Ever since he was arrested, she had lost her love for him.

   Oliver did as he was told and three weeks later, he convinced Julie to go on a train ride with him to see an "old friend". 

   "Who is this old friend of yours we're going to see?" she asked when they arrived at the railroad.

   "You'll recognize him when you see him." She sighed and sat next to the tin man. Oliver sat next to her, and they waited for the train in silence. The wind whipped Julie's blond hair over her face, though she payed no mind to it.

   "Augustine gets out today," she whispered.

   Oliver turned to look at her. "Yes, he does." Did she still care for him? Before he could think more of it, the horn of the train rang out and Julie stood up. The train came rambling down the tracks with intense speed and Oliver stood up.

   "Oliver! Is this about Augustine? Is that why we're getting on this train?"

   Oliver looked at her with strong emotion. He couldn't decide if he should tell her. "Yes."

   Julie stepped back two steps. "No! I'm not doing it. It's going too fast. I can't jump on. I don't want to see him. Good bye, Oliver."

   "Julie! Come back. I've seen you do it before, besides he wants to tell you something. Please. He wants to see you."

   As the train raced past, something made Julie stop. Something made her turn around and give the man a chance. Maybe it was something Oliver had said, or maybe she still loved him. Whatever it was, it made her jump into the thirteenth train car with Oliver on her tail.

   Out of the shadows, a dark figure emerged. A kind and sturdy man with sunken eyes and a scraggly beard. Julie clapped her hands to her mouth. Oliver sunk into the corner as the two gravitated toward each other.

   "Julie."

   "No, Augustine. Please, just leave. I don't want to talk."

   "Just give me a chance. Please. I know that you don't love me, but I love you. Give me a chance."

   Julie became quiet and listened to the man.

   "I'm sorry, lover. I'm sorry I bring you down. I kinda thought our love was a mystery and then I thought it wasn't meant to be, so I stole it. When I was being arrested, you said yourself fantastically, 'Congratulations, you are all alone.' I love you, but you didn't seem to love me so I thought it wasn't meant to be."

  "Augustine," Oliver said. "our stop's almost here. Sorry, but you have to wrap it up." 

  He nodded and turned back to Julie. "If you really don't love me, we can end this, but I want you to know something." 

Julie was close to tears by now, but she nodded for him to continue. 

   "Your time for love will come if you wait for it. It's hard, believe me; I've tried, but I kept on falling short. The rain won't fall for the both of us and the sun won't shine on the both of us. Believe me when I say that I wouldn't have it any other way because I don't want you to be stuck with me if you don't feel the way I do."

   "Alright, we're here," said Oliver. "Stay safe, Augustine. Don't get into trouble." Oliver lead Julie to the door.

  "Wait. Augustine, where are you going? Come with us."

  "I can't. I'm going somewhere safe. Away from people and you. Go, now. Remember, your time will come if you wait for it."

   "Julie, we have to go now. Goodbye, Augustine. Good luck."

   "Bye, Augustine."

   "Goodbye. See you soon."

  After one last faithful look back, Julie and Oliver jumped off the train and made their way home. Home to a safe place where they were to build their lives and forget about all that had just happened in these past weeks. 

Short Story Sunday-#19

Little Talks

For this SSS, I have decided to write a story based on one of my favorite songs, "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men. I'm just going to listen to the song and not look at any lyrics or anything like that, and I have no idea what the song is about, so this will be fun. BTW: I do realize that this song actually already has a special meaning to it, but I'll be making my own. This is kind of a last minute thing, so I don't know how good it'll be.

   The boat gently rocked Johanna asleep. I laid in the bed across the room, unable to fall asleep. The moving of the boat kept me awake instead of helping me sleep like my sister.

    I threw off my covers and glanced at Johanna. She pulled her hands closer to her face and breathed out. I opened the wood door a crack and slid out into the narrow hallway where I clambered up the stairs. Men ran around everywhere, pulling on ropes, shouting directions, and climbing up masts. 

   The captain spotted me and walked over. 

   "Why are you here, circus boy? It's the middle of the night," he shouted over the noise, "I told you to stay in your room. We're only a few days from land. Then we can take you to the circus." The circus. They were taking us to the circus because everyone believed that my sister was mental. "Go back down th-" Before he finished, a high-pitched scream called me.

   "Hinrik! Help!" Johanna. I dashed to the stairs but slipped on the first step. I tumbled to the bottom and pushed open the door to our room. Johanna was sitting up in her bed, her lips quivering and her face dripping with sweat. I crouched at her bedside.

   "Screams. I heard screams," she managed to say, "The screams all sound the same." Her eyes blankly stared at the wall behind me. "I'm scared." Then her eyes brightened again and she seemed to come out of her trance, but I could still see the darkness hanging from her eyes. "Don't listen to a word I say. It was just a dream." She always said this and I never believed her.

   I stood up and got into my bed, and once again, was unable to sleep.

   "Hinrik?"

   "Yes, Johanna?"

   "Where are we going?"

   "I think we're going to a circus."

   "What if we die?"

   "This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore. Good-night Johanna."

   "Good-night, Hinrik."

The next morning, we woke up and the captain told us to come out onto deck. He pushed us onto a plank that took us to a sandy dock. 

   We walked to a plump lady who smiled and asked the captain, "Are these the children?'

   "Yes, this is Hinrik, and he's 16," he said patting my shoulder, "And this is Johanna and she's 15. They're both Icelandic." He leaned in close to the woman and whispered something that made her glance at Johanna. Then the captain stood up straight, brushed off his coat and walked back to the ship.

   "Come along children. We're going to your new home." She lead us to a carriage attached to a horse and told us to get in. We did as we were told and sat in silence in the back.

   The horse pulled up to an old broken down house and we got out.

   "This way!" She walked to the door and stepped inside.

   "I don't like walking around this old and empty house,"Johanna said to the lady.

   Then hold my hand and walk with me, my dear." She kindly held out her hand ans Johanna took it. The lady took us to our room and was surprised by our lack of luggage. She left us alone for the rest of the day.

   At night, Johanna tossed and turned, keeping me awake. The lady somehow knew and gently pushed open our door. 

   "What's the matter?"

   "Stairs creak as you sleep, it's keeping me awake."

   The lady sat on her bed and said, "It's the house telling you to close your eyes." She stroked Johanna's hari and left.

In the afternoon of the next day I was told to wait outside while she spoke to Johanna. I held my ear to the door and listened in.

   "You're name is Johanna, right?" she asked politely. There was a short silence where perhaps, Johanna was nodding.

   "Are we at a circus?"

   "Oh, goodness! No! That would be cruel. I am here to help you. Tell me about yourself."

   Johanna took a deep breath and said, "Some days I don't know if I am wrong or right."

   "Your mind is playing tricks on your, my dear."

   "There's an old voice in my head that's holding me back."

   "Well, tell her that I miss our little talks."

   "What talks?"

   "That's what your brother's thinking. Hinrik, it's not nice to listen in on conversations. Come in." How did she know? I open the door and sit on my bed.

   "Now, Hinrik. What little talks?"

   "We used to play outside when we were young, full of life and full of love. We used to talk about beautiful things and not those saddening nightmares she gets."

   "Johanna, is there anything else I need to know?"

   "Can't do anything by myself. Some days I can't even dress myself."

   "It's killing me to see you this way," I said. Then Johanna turned to cough a heart-wrenching cough.

After a few months, Johanna seemed to have nightmares less. We even grew fond of the sweet plump lady. But one day, Johanna woke up screaming.

   "Hinrik! I'm going to die. The screams! They've always been me. They all sound the same because they're me. Help me!" The lady came in and sat at her bed. She stroked her hair and whispered thing into her ear. Johanna's breathing slowed and she laid back down. Just as her head hit the pillow, she coughed. The cough had become more and more frequent. Johanna stayed in bed for the rest of the day.

   After dinner the following day, I heard Johanna groan. Then she screamed. I raced up stairs and found the lady at her bedside. I collapsed next to Johanna and listened to her moan and scream. Her body writhed and she coughed uncontrollably. The pain reached me, but in a different way. Her screams hurt me and my heart beat out of my chest.

   Then, all at once, it stopped. The screams. The coughing. And my heart. I watched her body. I watched her soul leave her. I collapsed again on the floor and fell unconscious.

I woke up in my bed and just stared at the ceiling. Johanna?

   Yes? Her voice said.

   You're gone away. I watched you disappear. All that's left is a ghost of you. Now we're torn apart. There's nothing I can do. 

   Just let me go, we'll meet again soon.

   Now, wait for me. 

   Please hang around. 

   I'll see you when I fall asleep.

And that night I did. When I fell asleep, I saw Johanna playing in the field. She beckoned for me to join her. I pranced out to her and she ran away. I chased her. After I tagged her, we sat on a rock under a tree. She showed me to make flower chains. Then when the sun set, we walked away, hand-in-hand. We were happy. Quite happy indeed.

Short Story Sunday-#18

   The Sky's Tears

The pitter-patter soothes me to a trance-like state as I watch the water roll down the windshield in small waves. Cool air from the open window makes me shiver, making me pull my coat tighter. Finding my book, I read for a minute, getting sucked into the story. I glance up. The windshield is covered with water droplets and no matter how fast the wipers go, we still can't see out. The road has become a blurred grey strip. I stare at the windshield and try to assist my mom in seeing the road.
   Soon, the wipers can slow down and we can see the road clearly. The dark clouds make my whole day dismal. I try to make the day beautiful. The clouds make way for the sun and it bathes the road in light. The sky turns blue and the water on the road dries up. Trees bloom as we drive by. Singing birds fly across the road, narrowly missing the speeding car.
   "We're here!" I get pulled from my imagination and the dark clouds deepen my spirits again. Water still streaks across the sky.
   I step out in the drizzle. My raincoat is spotted with water instantly. A plump drop falls onto my scalp, through my hair. My mom walks by with an umbrella and I hear little fingers flicking the soft fabric. The umbrella is soon soaked. I pick up my book and slam the door. The book gets slipped into my coat and I zip it up with a whiz to protect it from harmful water. The library would kill me. I look up at the sky and feel the cold water dropping on my cheeks. Starting to walk, I look where I'm going. A house.
   Three boys come running out. The oldest says "hi" to me and moves on to my mom. The youngest shouts, "Georgia!" and trots to me.
   One about the age of nine says, "Hi, Georgia."
   I smile and say, "How are you doing?"
   "Good." I hear the door open a close as another boy about my age comes out.
   "Hey," he says and I return his "hey" and their parents come out and greet me.
   "You're so grown up," their mom says as she hugs me. I just smile and blush. "Let's go inside." I notice the boys don't have shoes as their feet slap the pavement, stepping in every puddle possible.
   Just as I close the door behind me, the sound of water on the pavement becomes harder and faster. I sigh. I'm totally soaked head-to-foot. My nose dripping with water and my hair plastered to my face in clumps, I remove my shoes and take my book to the safety of the bedroom. I set it on the side-table and race back outside to get my bag. My raincoat doesn't collect any more water this time, but it starts up again a few minutes later.
   That evening, I lean against the window listening to the pitter-patter of the water. I press my forehead to the cool window and close my eyes. When they open, the sun has appeared from behind the clouds and the last of the water streaks down the window, chasing its friends to a puddle on the ground.

Short Story Sunday-#17

Honovi of Kele Island

Honovi stood in the doorway of her hut. Soon she would have to give her task to her granddaughter. Honovi was growing old and the passing ceremony would have to take place while she was still alive.

Life was hard in the jungle. They lived on the Kele island in one big tribe. Everyone knew everyone and Honovi was the only individual with this particular task, so it was very important for it to be passed on.

“Aiyana,” she called with a voice calm like the wind. The girl with a thick headband sitting atop her head and feathers tied around her arm came rushing across the sticks and twigs on the ground with feet as bare as an elephant.

“You called me, Honovi?”

“Yes, child. My time has come and I must teach you how to perform this important task.” Aiyana nodded and followed Honovi into her hut. The hut was a large circle with a fire in the middle. Small animal skulls, lined the walls. Aiyana shivered with fear. Honovi never understood why the youth never enjoyed being in here. This place was home to Honovi. On either side of the fire lay two squares formed by long leaves woven together.

“Sit, please.” Honovi gestured to a woven square. “Aiyana, I have foreseen my death and I know I must pass on my task. I have chosen you, my granddaughter. My own daughter already has her task, so she cannot take mine. You were next in line.” She paused. “Today, you shall assist me when patients come in. I will teach you all I know over the next few months, but first you must tell me. Is this a task you want to take on?”

Aiyana thought for a moment then looked into Honovi’s wrinkled face. She stared at the tattoos running up her arms.

“Yes, I would be honored.” A smile spread across Honovi’s face and she took her seat on the other side of the fire.

“First you must learn the foundation of this complicated task. You must learn to understand the spirits. Close your eyes, child.” Aiyana did as she was told. “Now, visualize your spirit.” Honovi saw a doe prancing in a meadow, fending off predators. Her name, Honovi, meant strong deer. She suspected Aiyana was visualizing a blossom, always in full bloom even in the coldest of times. Aiyana meant eternal blossom.

“Speak to your spirit. Not yet though. I shall show you the proper way.” Honovi took a deep breath and spoke to her doe.

“Great doe. Hear me call. I wish for your wisdom.” I am always here Honovi. Tell me your troubles. “How shall I teach this child?” Teach from the heart. Tell her all you know and do not cease until she knows all and has mastered the art of spirit summoning. “Thank you great doe. I bid you many thanks,” Honovi finished. “Now, child. Speak to your spirit properly and be respectful.” Aiyana tried and passed with flying colors. “Very good. I see we have our first patient.” She stood and pulled back the bamboo curtains covering the doorway.

A tall, strong man stood on the other side with a bow in his hand and arrows on his back. Tattoos trailed up his arms and down his bare chest, in the form of a tree. “Ah. Gaagi. Come in. I am teaching my apprentice to take over my task.” Gaagi smiled at Aiyana. Gaagi meant large tree, hence his tattos.

Aiyana gave her seat to Gaagi and leaned against the wall. Honovi took her spot by the fire and spoke to Gaagi.

“What troubles you so?”

“My head bangs inside and I feel as if something is attempting to force its way out.”

“Ah. I know just what to do.”

“You always do,” he said. Honovi nodded and stood up. The glow from the fire gave an ominous shadow to Honovi’s face as she looked down upon it.

“Oh, great spirits! Hear me call!” she bellowed, her voice booming across the room. “If you hear my voice, give us a signal!” Suddenly, the fire turned acid green expanded to the size of a grown man. It sent smoke everywhere, making Aiyana cough. The smoke swirled in the room and formed the words: We hear you, Honovi.

“Gaagi has a creature in his skull. Free this creature and help Gaagi!” The smoke slowly crept closer to Gaagi and encased him in a grey ball of smoke. Then all at once the smoke retreated and the fire shrank to a small orange flower. Honovi fell to the ground and Aiyana rushed to her aid.

“Aiyana, I am too old for this task. It is taking all my strength,” she wheezed.

Gaagi stood up. “I feel much better. I bid you many thanks, Honovi.” Then he turned and stepped out of the hut.

Honovi looked to Aiyana. “Let me show you how to make potions to cure stiff joints.”

Over the next few months, Honovi taught Aiyana how to brew, speak to other spirits and even summon them the way Honovi had. Aiyana could make fire turn green and smoke swirl to heal someone.

One day, after Aiyana had healed broken bones, moved stiff ones, cured headaches and many other things, Honovi knew that Aiyana was ready. She called for a ceremonial task passing.

That night, the whole tribe gathered in a clearing and danced in circles, singing in their native language by the firelight. Honovi came dressed in a long animal skin and multi-colored feathers were woven into her hair.

Then the time came where Aiyana and Honovi cut their wrists and took a blood oath they had memorized. Everyone was silent until they had finished. Then everyone went back to celebrating. There was food and dance. Honovi was old, but she could sing with the most beautiful voice.

The next morning, Honovi passed away in her sleep, knowing that her work in the world was complete and she had left her task in the hands of a capable young girl.

Short Story Sunday-#16

Living Life: The Real Way

We take a lot of things for granted in life. Including life itself. This moment, right now, is never ever going to happen again. I've been living my life the real way ever since I stood on that mountain peak.
   I first had the idea of climbing the mountain while reading about it at school. The magazine the teacher gave us was about the youngest person to climb Mount Everest. Reading that really got me thinking. I want to do that. I want to do something fun with my life instead of sitting in front of a computer screen all day.
   At home, I told my parents my thoughts and they supported me fully. My dad and I started training. We ran from home to school and back everyday, and we went on long hikes in the hills. I found a book about how to climb a mountain and how to be safe about it. Dad bought all the equipment and after many months, we were finally ready.
   We decided to begin with a smaller mountain and build up to Mount Everest. We climbed Mount Hood first. It was a long, hard hike, but we eventually made it. All the training had really done some good. If we had done this before all the afternoon runs, we would have turned back before we even got halfway.
   After, that, we continued to train and climb mountains. Then we were ready for the big boy. My dad and I rode on an airplane to Nepal and stayed in a hotel for the night. Although I was excited and the adrenaline wouldn't let me sleep, I still somehow got enough sleep. Bright and early in the morning, we left for the mountain and met our group. The guide made sure we had all the necessities to climb before we made our way towards the mountain. I bounced on my heels with a never-dying excitement bubbling inside me.
   None of us knew each other, so we just climbed in utter silence. At first, it was just a rocky hill, but it soon became the steep, cold, snowy mountain that we all know it to be. Before the sun set, we set up camp and called it a night.
   The next day, we climbed down a ways then back up again. This was because in order to get used to the air pressure, we had to go up and down. Once again, we stopped for the night. We continued this for a week.
   One night, we had to stay in our tents instead of climbing on, because of a storm. Luckily, it was only a small storm and soon we were out there again.
   My dad and I felt very achieved when we had reached the halfway point. We could just go home and still be very proud of what we had done. But we had enough oxygen to take us to the top and back down, so we continued to the top.
   On the last day of climbing up, I just couldn't hold in the thrill of finally reaching the top.
   And when the guide said, "Half a mile left! This is the hardest part!" I was about to explode. He cautioned us of many things, but I only half-listened. Today, the climb was not silent and we were all talking. Everyone was jumpy and we all knew each other pretty well after all this time. I was deep into a conversation with a very nice lady, when my dad gasped and held my shoulder.
   "Julia. Look." I lifted my eyes to where everyone else was looking now. The top. I wanted to run up there and be the first one, but I knew too well that running used up more of our valuable oxygen. Instead, I walked the way a was supposed to and was very careful not to slip and ruin the whole trip.
   Then, we were there. On the peak. Staring out at the open world around us.
   Despite the oxygen tank, I still couldn't breathe.  It was as if a mystical force had pulled all of the air from my body and replaced it with wonder.  I suddenly felt so small. The world was so big. Bigger than it had ever been. I could see the curve of the earth in the distance. All around me-or more like below me-was the fluffiest, white clouds i had ever seen just floating around. The sky was all around me including beneath me! For a moment, I just tuned out everything around me except the sky, clouds and earth. I felt as if I was the only person on earth and I was the ruler. Then, it hit me.
   I might never feel this moment again.  This might never happen again. I needed to live in moment and die feeling complete because I had lived life the real way. Always taking note on how beautiful this sky is and listening to my brother instead of just ignoring him.
   While the rest of the group snapped pictures, I stood close to the edge, taking in deep breaths.
   When the guide waved his arm to signal that it was time to go, I just couldn't do it. I couldn't leave. My dad had to drag me away to break my trance. We then started the dismal trek down the mountain. No one wanted to leave.
   After that moment, I always lived life to its fullest and never took anything for granted. You only get one chance at life, so do it right.

Short Story Sunday-#15

This story is continued from last week's story. If you haven't read last week's then I suggest you do that before reading this one. :)

Lach and Hadley continued to be friends and send messages through the bottle, which was now being sent in a box. They planned to meet each other sometime and they asked their families and decided to meet in Spain in the hot month of August. Lach couldn't get over the excitement of getting out of the country and finally meeting this girl he had been speaking to and getting to know for the last couple months. He just couldn't stop thinking about it.
   As Lach and his dad boarded the plane, he kept wondering what Hadley is really like. Maybe she was different than what she said. But these thoughts did not get Lach's feelings down.
   After a long, gross plane ride, Lach got off the plane and breathed in the clean air of the airport. His dad got a taxi and they drove to Hadley's town. Lach was speechless at the sight of the Spanish buildings. The flat roofs and white walls were so different from the pointy roofed houses in Massachusetts. They found Hadley's house and knocked on the door.
   Lach's heart dropped. What if she didn't like him? What if they didn't get along? All these kinds of thoughts rushed through Lach's head in the few seconds he was waiting for someone to open the door.
   After what felt like a lifetime, but was only 5 seconds, the door opened and a girl about his age with long wavy brown hair stood behind it. As soon as she laid her eyes on Lach's they lit up and she shrieked.
   "You're here! I've been waiting! Come in." She stepped away to let them come inside. Lach came in and was amazed once again by the scene. The walls held family photos and Hadley had the same happy eyes in every one.
   Hadley pulled him into the brightly-colored living room and sat him down in a chair. She sat in an armchair across from him.
   They sat in an akward silence for a minute before Hadley hekd out her hand and said, "Hello, I'm Hadley and I love to explore."
   Lach laughed and shook the hand. "Hi, I'm Lach and I love to write books." They both laughed and fell into a conversation of books and beaches. They talked about their miracle friendship and how it just happened to work out.
   Lach stayed for three days and when the time came to leave, they both had a hard time letting go.
   "I'll come over to America sometime and see you!" Hadley yelled after them as they drove off.
   No one could bear leaving, but they knew that they would be friends for as long as they lived and maybe even after that. Fate had brought them together and they would keep it that way.

THE END!

Yay! I finished. I'm really proud of this story. It turned out nicely. 

Short Story Sunday-#14

This story is continued from last week's and if you haven't read that one, then I suggest you read that before reading this one.

Lach finished 7th grade with all As and was having an amazing summer vacation. It was still the first week of summer vacation and he was rarely inside his house. Lach was usually hanging out with his friends at the beach or playing in his front yard. Every time he was at the beach, he always took time to check for the bottle.
   "Hey, Luke! What are you always looking for?" they would ask him.
   "I said, I wanted you to call me Lach, ok? Besides, what I'm looking for is none of your business." Lach didn't want his friends knowing a bout the strange girl he was communicating with. He also didn't want the to think that he was crazy for sending letters to someone by bottle.
   At the end of the day, Lach and his friends returned home. Lach found a package with his name on it on his front step. He never gets packages! He picked it up and unlocked the door.
   It was calm and quiet, so his parents must not be home yet. Lach sat down at his desk and read the front of the box. It was from Spain. Who would be sending him stuff from there? Lach found some scissors and cut open the box to reveal something that made his heart jump both with surprise and happiness. A bottle. He pulled off the cork and tipped the bottle to one side and the note slid out. Lach opened the note. It read:

June 2, 2011

Lach,
This is so exciting! I can't believe that the bottle made it to you and back to me AGAIN! This is so amazing. It's a miracle. It's destiny. It's fate.
   Your last note flattered me. Not many people think I'm pretty. You look very handsome too. I think the way that you're red hair looks in the wind is very interesting. You look very happy in that picture too.
   As you may have seen on the front of the box, I live in Spain, but you were very close. You're probably wondering how I found you. Well, I looked up people with your first and last name that live in your town. t was very easy to find you because you have multiple social media accounts and the photos looked exactly like the photo you sent me! Now you know where I live, so we can send things to each other in a more trustworthy way. Now we don't have to worry about other people finding the bottle before we do. The same thing happened to me when the bottle arrived here. It took a while to convince the girl that the bottle was actually mine.
   I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but I do like the name Lach better, and I will call you by that, because you asked me to.
   Your stories sound interesting. Can you send me some? You can enclose one or two with your next note.
   I'm going to ask some questions about you. Do you have a pet? I have one cat, his name is Pants. He looks like he's wearing pants. I didn't come up with the name. What are some things that make you really happy? How do you like your steak cooked? Would you rather be hated by everyone or forgotten? Have you ever been in a fist fight? Have you always lived in Massachusetts?
   I enclosed a photo of Pants being hugged to death by my sister, Lisa.

Your friend,

Hadley

Lach finished reading the lengthy letter and looked at the photo. There was a little girl with the same brown hair, squeezing a limp cat. The cat was white on the top half and black on the bottom and its feet were white also. It really looked like it was wearing pants.

June 10, 2011

Hadley,
Wow, you are a very outgoing and interesting girl and I really love that. Thanks for saying that I look nice. People usually think the opposite of me.
  I can't believe you found me! You're lucky that I am on almost every social media site,
  Honestly, I like my fake name better too. I'm not offended. I also asked all my friends to call me Lach.
  Well, I do have a pet. It's a German Shepard named Ben. He's a lot sweeter than he looks. You're cat does look like its wearing pants! Some things that make me happy are rain, snow, fresh baked bread, the smell after it rains and a whole bunch of other things. I like my steak cooked medium rare and I have never been in a fist fight. I would rather be forgotten, then I could do whatever I wanted but if I was hated, that would ruin my life. I have always lived in the same town my whole life and I love it here, but I would enjoy getting out of the country once and a while. What are your answers to all these questions? Here's some more.
   What are some of your favorite movies? What kind of music do you like? What is your life like? What about yourself makes you most proud? I can't come up with questions as good as yours.
   I enclosed a photo of my house and the story about the kids who get lost.

Sincerely,

Lach

Lach slipped the letter into the bottle and found a new box. He used and old shoe box and taped it closed. Then, with a sharpie, he wrote Hadley's address and rode his bike to the post office.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Alright! I really love this story. Next week will be the last one. Then, I'll start a new story! I am super proud of this story. 

Short Story Sunday-#13

This story is continued from last week's, so if you have not read last week's, then I suggest that you do that before reading this.

The Friend in a Bottle

   Lach had a hard time leaving Myrtle Beach. He kept telling his mother that they had to stay longer, but she just told him that school was starting up again soon and they needed to leave. Finally, the car was packed and everyone was waiting for Lach. He had run down to the beach for one last check.
   Lach padded across the grainy, yellow sand and stepped into the warm water. He looked around. A seagull pecked at a sandwich someone had left. The seagull was soon joined by others and it happily shared its findings. Lach walked up and down the shoreline, searching.
   "It has to be here somewhere," he said to himself.
   "What are you looking for, son?" asked an kind voice behind him. Lach turned around. There stood an old man with a walking stick and his pants rolled up to his knees. "Where are your parents?"
   "They're at our beach house in the car. We're getting ready to leave."
   "Can I help you find what you are looking for?"
   "Yes, that would be nice. I'm looking for a bottle with a note inside of it." The man laughed.
   "Really? Alright, let's do this."
   They searched for almost an hour before Lach's mother pulled Lach away, saying, "We have to go. I told you that you could have three minutes to look." Then, they got into the car and drove away. Lach's spirits fell lower and lower as the car drove farther away from the beach. How was the girl ever going to answer him? The bottle might not even make it to Maine or where ever she lived.

In Maine, Lach rode his bike to the beach everyday after school to check for the bottle. After a few weeks, he was worried that the bottle never even made it to the place where the girl lives. One day Lach was doing his science homework on the beach, watching for the bottle when he heard someone shout.
   "Look what I found! It's a bottle." Lach stood up and stomped over to the girl who had shouted. "There's a note in their too!" she said to her friend.
   "Excuse me. That's my bottle," Lach said to her, but she was too busy showing it off to hear him. "Hey, you! Girl with the bottle!" he shouted at her. She looked up.
   "What do you want?" she asked in a bored tone.
   "That's my bottle."
   "No! It's mine. I found it right here." she pointed to the sand. Her voice was stern.
   "That's where I left it." Lach didn't know what else to say. "Read the note and see. My name is Lach." The girl  looked at him skeptically before opening the bottle and pulling out the note. She read it in her head and glanced at Lach.
   "You're right. Sorry, it's yours." She passed the note and the bottle to him then, walked away. Lach had the urge to read the note right then and there, but instead, he stuffed the note back in the bottle and rode his bike home.

   Once in the safety of his room, Lach re-opened the bottle and pulled out the note.

May 4, 2011

Lach,
I am so happy that you found this bottle! I didn't have high hopes of someone actually finding it. But then, the bottle actually made it back to me! This is amazing! Lach is a nice name, but I wish you could tell me your real one. Hadley is my real name. Can you tell me your exact address? That way I can make sure the bottle gets to you. I live in Europe. Most people in my country don't speak English, but I do. That's your next hint of where I live.
   I love writing too! I also enjoy adventures. I love to go exploring and trying new and crazy things, like putting a note in a bottle and sending it out to sea. People think I'm crazy, but I don't care. Wouldn't it be nice if we could meet up sometime? But that will be a while. Please tell me your address. I enclosed a photo of me. I am going to send you little things about me every time. Kind of like that pebble.

Your friend,
Hadley

   Lach found the photo of her at the bottom of the bottle. It was of a girl his age with shoulder-length wavy, brown hair and blue eyes. She was smiling with great happiness and even her eyes were smiling. Lach put the photo with the speckled pebble and began to write his response.
   He told her about the stories he had written and his real name. He told her about the scene at the beach and how that was the reason that he couldn't enclose his address. He also took a guess at where she lives. He guessed France. Lach also included a picture of himself and complimented the girl on her looks. He mentioned how happy she looke and how glad he is to be friends with her.

   Then, he rode back to the beach at sunset and tossed the bottle once more into the cold water of Massachusetts. Then, he rode back home and went to bed. A huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Short Story Sunday-#12

   

The Friend in a Bottle

When Luke found the bottle near the shoreline, he felt compelled to read the note which had been tucked inside it. Of course he had seen many many movies where the reader of the note goes on extraordinary adventures, so Luke had high hopes in this note. With great struggle, he managed to pull the cork out of the top and tilted the green bottle to the side, held out his hand where the note fell onto. Luke carefully unrolled the thin crusty paper to reveal five lines of neat writing in black ink and a speckled pebble. The words read:

March 3, 2011

  Dear Reader, I live to the east of the Atlantic Ocean. If you find this and can answer back, please do. The more you answer back, the more I'll tell you about where I live. Make sure to include where you live in case the ocean inaccessible to me. Thank you, I can't wait to be friends.

From, Hadley

P.S. Please accept this pebble as a token of our new-found friendship.

 
Luke was surprised at the way this note had turned out. He was really hoped that it was an adventure waiting for him. Instead, it was some girl looking for a friend. Sarah, his older sister walked over to him and peered over his shoulder at the girl's note.  

"Did you finally get a girlfriend? Who is this?" She asked dully.

 "I don't know who this is. She says her name is Hadley. “I found the note in that bottle." He pointed to the green beer bottle in the sand.   

"Oh, cool! You should totally answer. I have paper at the beach house. You'll have to find your own pen, though."   

"I don't think I'll answer."  

"Why not?" Sarah cried out, "This could be the best opportunity of your life." Luke shrugged. "Think on it. If you don't want to do it, give it to me. I would do it in a heartbeat." Luke shook his head and looked to his sister as she turned on a heel and trekked up the beach to the house. Luke grabbed the bottle, slipped the note inside and holding the pebble tightly, he followed his sister.   

They would be leaving the beach house in two weeks' time, then they would head back to Maine. Luke loved the beaches in South Carolina and he didn't want to leave the heaven of a beach house anytime soon. There was just so much sun here and he loved the feel of the warm water lapping over his toes. He much disliked the freezing cold water of Maine.   

Luke went to bed that night with the girl in his head. Was she pretty? Who is she? In his head, she was. He imagined her with long brown hair and green eyes that sparkled with happiness. She sat at a desk with a calligraphy pen and was scribbling something. Luke kept this imagine in his mind even through his sleep.

The next morning, Luke had made up his mind. He asked Sarah for some paper and found the nicest pen he could. Then, he sat on his bed with a clipboard, thinking. What would he tell this mysterious girl? Should he tell her his real name? After much thought, he started writing.

April 4, 2011

Hadley, I hope this note gets to you safely. The ocean can be very unpredictable. I don't know if it's safe to use my real name so I'll that my name is Lach. My name means "lives by water". I wish it was my real name. I live in Provincetown, Massachusetts but right now, I'm at Myrtle Beach in South Carolina. We'll return to there in two weeks. I would love to be friends with you, but I wish you could tell me where you live, so I can send messages to you in a more reliable way. The pebble you sent me is beautiful. I will keep it forever. I had my doubts about writing back to you, but after a night's thought, I decided to take this chance.

  I can tell you a little about myself. I love to write stories and books and I find world history very interesting. I love dogs and pancakes. What do you love? Do you have any hobbies?

Sincerely, Lach

Luke sat back and admired his work. He was very proud of the name he had made for himself. Lach. How he wished this name was his. Then, he rolled up the paper and slipped it inside the bottle and went to the beach. There, he found some beach grass and slid some into the bottle along with the note. Luke, now known as Lach, replaced the cork and waded some ways into the water.

  He up looked at the blue sky and said, "I hope this message gets to you, Hadley." Then, Lach took a deep breath and began the bottle's journey by tossing the bottle far out into the dark ocean, landing it with a splash.

TO BE CONTINUED...

I'm actually really proud of this story and I'll make sure to resume it next week. Did you like it? I sure did. Although, I kinda want to change the guy's name to something else. It was originally Lach, but then I made Lach be the fake name he used. I think I'll call him Lach for the rest of the story. Any thoughts? I have a feeling that this is going to be a long story...