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...

Short Story Sunday-#11

 

The Phoenix

  They say there's a phoenix living alone in England. He's in a castle. An old one made of stone that creaks under the weight of your foot. They say his feathers red and orange and tipped with blazing fire. They say that he's so immense that his wings touch either side of the ballroom when he stretches out. They say he has a heart of gold and loves everyone.
   But I've also heard that he has been in many wars and has fought for what he believed in. He was so noble that he fought along side with the best of soldiers. He was used a fearsome weapon and his side was most likely to have the glory of winning. His fire burned many men and his claws killed many more. They say he had a way of making the fearless fearful. Those were the best of his time, but now, he lay lonely in a tower of his castle.
   They say he moved in about a hundred years ago and scared off the residents that had made a living there before him. He just burst in and told them to leave. Of course they had heard of him and his short temper, so they quickly evacuated. These day he sits in his tower and morns the waste of his life. He regrets what he has done to this beautiful world. He's burned it and he hates himself for it.
   They say he never wanted a life like this and now he's scarred. All he wants now is to die peacefully and leave his shameful life of murder. The phoenix hates himself for what he's done. He's sad and ashamed of killing so many.  He hates how people flee him or just shiver at the thought of him.
He was a very benevolent figure though. They say he was kind and caring to those on his side of the fight. They say he was willing to help anyone who was in need. I've heard that if you had called for him before he locked himself up, he would be there in a flash. They say a lot of things. I want to meet this phoenix and ask him for his real story. You can't trust what people say.

I know it's short. Sorry. I don't have much time...plus, I can't think of any more things to say. I'll do a really good SSS next week! :)

Short Story Sunday-#10

Free Writes

Sorry I'm late again. It was a homework overload again. I also had so many other things going on that I couldn't squeeze this in. I'm doing it now. I think I'll do a few three minute free-writes and see how it turns out because I don't have time to come up with a story subject.

1: Scribbles.  I love art. It is so many things and you never see the same piece of art. I'm not very good at art, but I can just call it "abstract" and get away with it. I love to scribble and try to see what the scribbles look like. That's art too. Art can just be what you do in your free time or what your do when your supposed to be listening to the teacher, but instead your drawing. I always end up with scribbles all over my paper. Math is the best time for drawing..for me at least. I draw some random animal in the margins while I'm thinking about the problem. Art has no limits and you can do whatever you want.

2: Waking up.  This is probably the hardest thing for me. I wake up at my alarm and press the snooze button. Then, 10 minutes later, it goes off again. This time I tell myself to sit up and get out of bed. I sit up but then quickly fall asleep. Then once again my alarm goes off. I turn the alarm clock off and tear the covers off my bed and sit back up. I lean up against my pillow and fall back asleep. Now, because I turned my alarm off, I don't wake up until my mom comes into the room and shakes me awake. I always feel ashamed of myself because I really thought that today was going to be the day that I woke up on time.

3: Halloween.   Don't get me wrong, I like Halloween, but I think that it's just really silly. I think that getting a costume and dressing up is too much of a hassle. Too hard. Especially when your parents always insist on not buying one and making your costume instead. Then there's all the candy. I love candy, but there is an existent point where I get sick of it. There;s just too much and I never finish it all anyway. The only time I've really had fun on Halloween was when I went with just my friends and not family. That was exciting. BUt, I do enjoy carving pumpkins. I love the feel of the gooey stuff inside that you have to rip out and I love the feel of cutting that thing up.

4: School and learning.  I love to learn, but I really don't enjoy school. This may not make sense, but they're much different. School is a place that you are sent to and forced to go to. You get judged and you always feel self-conscious. Then, you get things forced down your throat and they expect you to remember it all. Then, they judge you on how well you remember it. Learning, on the other hand, it much different. You get to know new cool, things and find out things. Then, you can use the stuff you learned to do coo, stuff and have fun, See the difference?

This is really fun, so I'm going to do one more.

5: Medicine.  What if all the medicine in the world was all-natural and really worked the way the commercials say. There would be no scary side-effects (or so i hope) and people would be much healthier. Maybe the cure to cancer is right at our finger tips but we're still looking at chemicals instead of natural plants that could save millions of lives. I bet that some kinds of medicine aren't really anything. They're just weird tablets that are supposed to do something, but they only seem to be doing something because they say that they are. Maybe they are just mind tricks and your body is taking care of itself and doesn't need this medication. They just make you think that it's helping but it's just making you help yourself. 

Well there you have it. I will do this again sometime. Did you like it? Do you want me to do it again? Comment below. Once again, I'm really sorry about his EXTRA EXTRA late S.S.S. I'll actually do a story next time.

Short Story Sunday-#9

Wonder Friday

Three kids, about the age of 13, sit on a log under a blue sky perfectly dotted with clouds. The log stretches across a narrow creek that soothes the children with its soft trickles. The boy on the far right looks up at the sky and says, "Here's a deep thought. Ready, guys?" The others nod vigorously. "Maybe, we all see colors differently. Maybe my blue looks like your green but we both call it 'blue' because we were told that it was called blue. We would never discover this fact, ever. Because you just can't describe color. Think about trying to tell a blind person what yellow looks like. You can't say, 'Yellow looks like the sun and sunflowers' because they don't know what those things look like."
   "Do you think that if we somehow found out that we see colors differently, it would change everything?" says the girl on the left.
   "No, I don't think I would really matter," the kid on the right answers. "Hey, Joy, what's going on in your head? You haven't said a word." The girl in the middle looks up. She hasn't said a word for the whole hour they had been sitting here.
   "Well, I'm thinking about a lot of things and they're really hard to explain."
   "Go on! Tell us," The girl on the left says.
   "Ok," Joy starts, "Maybe there's other people out there just like us. I'm not talking about space, but here on earth. There could be another person that is exactly like me and we'll never meet. Or there might be parallel universes and everyone in those universes do the exact same thing as us at the exact same time. Or maybe, the people in the parallel universe are just a little behind us, waiting to see what we'll do next." She lets the others dwell on that thought before before moving on to the next.
   "Time might not exist. Everything could be happening all at once. If this is true, time travelling would never work. So this gives us all the more reason to live in the moment. You always hear those stories of people who find out that they only have months to live and they go do all their dreams. As they say, you don't need to find out that you're dying to start living. People need to start living by that phrase and stop living on their electronics. We need to spend more time with each other because life doesn't last for ever." She stops again to let this sink in.
   "Maybe, when you imagine things it's real. We could be creating something that is going to happen in one of those parallel universes. Or, we could be feeling what is going on in other parallel universes. Or, our thinking could be something completely unrelated to any of that." Joy take s a breath and starts again.
   "I have been wondering how many thoughts you can think at once before you forget one. Also, how much of our life is being forgotten. Is all this just going to waste? Will I never remember this talk?" She stops.
   "Maybe, sad music isn't really sad. It all depends on how if feels. Slow music could make you happy for all I know. Music is linked very tightly to our memories and thoughts. When you hear slow music, it could make you think of a happy time, so sad music isn't really sad." She stops again.
   "Our minds could be connected somehow and we could be hearing each other's thoughts but our mind just tunes out the thoughts of others. We probably can speak to each other with our minds but we would have to learn to turn on the listening side of our brain." She continues on, stopping between each thought. When Joy finishes long after because she doesn't feel like going on, the others seem upset.
   "I have plenty more thoughts going on, but I'm getting tired and thirsty," she explains.
   "Alright, then. Let's go home," says the boy and he stands up and walks across the log and to the bank of the river. Joy and the other girl follow with ease. They have done this many times and it's routine for the trio to come out here after school on Fridays for hours at a time. They call Friday "Wonder Friday" because all they do is wonder about things. They always enjoyed living in the country, because there's so much nature and they love to go explore or just sit around talking about the mysteries of life. They walk silently to the edge of the woods. This is very unusual, but now all they want to do is think about what Joy had said.
   The kids walk down the road stepping on sticks and dry leaves. None of them wears shoes when they go out into the woods on Fridays. It helps them think. They stop in front of a white house with roses growing by the porch steps. The boy splits off from the group.
   "See you guys at school!" he shouts from the door of his house. After a wave or two, he steps inside and the screen door slams behind him. The two girls continue walking down the the burning hot road. Their feet start to hurt from the heat, so they step onto the grass on the side of the road. The dew on the grass cools down their feet instantly.
   "It's amazing that the road is so hot. It's almost six o'clock and dark outside. I wonder how the road keeps in the heat." says the other girl. Joy shrugs. She doesn't know. They walk to Joy's house in silence. Joy says her goodbyes and walks down the pathway to her house. Joy stands in the doorway and takes one last look at her friend before stepping inside and closing the door without making any noise.