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.)