So... I finally finished my short story. It's interesting. I'm not sure how I feel about it. Sort of mixed. There are some parts that I really like and then some that I feel I could have done better had I been willing to put more time into it. I still need to come up with a title for it so any suggestions would be great! A note... we all had to start off our stories with the line '
where were you last night?' as a challenge. I had fun doing this and I think that once a month I'm going to start challenging myself to write short stories. It'll be neat to see what I can come up with it. ;D ANYWAY! Onto the story! I'd love to hear what you guys thought of it!
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“Where were you last night?” I asked in the dimming light of my bedroom. My downcast eyes were fixed on my bright red toenails, with the little black dots I had added earlier that morning to keep myself occupied. Tears hugged my chin, as if wishing to be a part of my face for more than just a few seconds. Minutes had passed, and yet the silence ensued on the other line. I could barely hear his rugged breathing, struggling to survive and not be choked down. He was nervous, I could tell, but I didn’t know why and I was desperate to find out. I was frantic and I hopelessly wanted to be a part of his secret.
“Justin?” I whispered softly into the speaker of the phone. “Answer me. Please.” The silence continued.
“I’m sorry. So sorry,” he said under his breath, loud enough for only him to hear. And then he hung up.
The phone disconnected with a single click that was as ear shattering as it was heart breaking. Tears poured down my puffy cheeks and off my face, like rain rolls off an umbrella during a downpour. I can imagine that my once bright blue eyes turned a dangerous gray, resembling the summer’s day just a few hours earlier with no clouds which had suddenly become the evening storm that seemed to destroy. With legs crossed, I sat on my bed clutching onto the powerful black phone in my hands and shaking uncontrollably with each new wave of emotions. My heavy breathing turned ragged and coarse. My hands trembled and my shoulders dropped as if giving up hope. Slowly and without a sound I closed my eyes and slid under the pale blue covers of my bed, wishing that they would hide me beyond the normal sleeping hours of the night. My mind swam deeper into confusion, and the tears continued to flow down my face, but I no longer shook as I fell into a dreamless sleep that could only occur from hours of frustration and crying.
I jumped to a sudden alertness as I looked at the clock sitting on the table beside me and tried to read the red blur in my sluggish state. 2:07. Perfect, I thought. My heart broke last night and my alarm clock broke this morning. Softly my head fell back to the comfort of the pillow, but sleep didn’t want to overtake my body. Looking back at the clock and groaning, I threw off my covers and sat up on my bed. Sleep. That was all I wanted. Well, that and the knowledge and understanding of what had happened the night before.
Pressing my palms to my eyes tightly so that the only light I was able to see was a bright green circle in the midst of total darkness, I tried to forget about the conversation. But I couldn’t. It wasn’t in my nature to forget, to pretend that things didn’t happen. I scanned the bed quickly and found the black phone resting innocently beside the pillows. Snatching it up in one fluid movement, my mind raced between options and emotions. I looked back at the clock. 2:11. Dropping the phone to the ground as new tears surfaced and traced the dried tears down my face, I sat in the silence of my bedroom not knowing what to do.
It had taken three years to build up the relationship I had with Justin, and only three minutes for it to crumble. But I didn’t want it to crumble, and I wasn’t going to let it end the way it did. Stumbling in the darkness and barely being able to drag one foot behind the other, I grabbed my keys, threw on my jacket hastily and shoved my feet into the nearest pair of shoes I could find. I walked down the stairs gently and shut the door with little more than a click and a twist of the keys.
Jacket trailing behind as the wind whipped through it, I ran to the red convertible I received that year for my eighteenth birthday. Out of breath but fresh with new hope, I climbed inside and thanked the air when the engine roared on the first try.
Driving as fast as I could while still trying to abide by the law since breaking the rules wasn’t a part of my nature and getting stopped by the police wasn’t on my list of things to do for the night, I came to an abrupt halt outside the brick house that belonged to Justin’s family. My heart pounded as I scrambled to get out of the car and onto the porch, but as I threw rock after rock at the second window on the left with no response, I felt the hope leaving me and my heart slow down.
Willing myself to not give up like I had done so many times before, I ran back to the car, slipping slightly on the thin layer of ice that covered the driveway, and slammed the car door shut behind me. With anger and disappointment, I let out a scream of rage and confusion. Glancing at the clock on my dashboard I noted that it was already 2:51 and that I had to be back home by 5:20 at the very latest if I didn’t want my parents sending out a search team for me. I briefly closed my eyes and rested my head on the steering wheel, but within seconds threw it back up as my eyes became wide with thoughts and ideas. I attempted to swiftly start up the engine again but this time luck deceived me. Not wanting to waste time, I abandoned the car and decided to run to the park just a few blocks away.
“Justin?” I whispered to the night. Following the soft noises of a distant swing creaking as it goes back and forth; I carefully stepped towards the silhouette.
“She died.” The darkness answered back. The voice was dull, and practically lifeless, but I knew the owner and quietly sat down on the swing beside Justin.
“Who died?”
“She died, Hayley. She just died.”
“Justin, who died? What’s going on?” I asked desperately.
His voice echoed throughout the park as he screamed his response. “Jessica. Jessica died, Hayley. You wanted to know where I was, right? I was in the hospital, Hayley. I was in the hospital holding my sister’s hand as I watched her die.” His breathing was heavy and he had already jumped off the swing. I sat there, not knowing what to say, but just looking at him.
Silently, he began to shake and as he fell to his knees on the gravel in the playground, I got up and knelt down beside him. I hugged him and stroked his hair, kissed his forehead and attempted to wipe away his tears. It was the only form of consolation I could give him. And he accepted it willingly. Grabbing onto my jacket tightly, he sobbed and mumbled and all I could manage to do was hold him and take in his pain. Together we sat on the ground until morning came and the children flooded the fields. But we continued to sit, holding onto each other, and it was then that I realized that our relationship hadn’t crumbled; it was still building.
ecstatic
lethargic
bouncy
tired
cheerful
creative