Category Archives: Short Stories Spring 2017
My shirt flew across the bedroom and landed on the floor. I grumbled softly to myself that it didn’t manage to make it in the hamper. My jeans were next and they flopped sadly next to the blue cotton already on the floor. Man, was I useless. Good thing I never tried to play basketball in college. That would have been a laughable event. I stepped over my fallen clothes and into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. It’s not like anyone would be home soon. Mom had taken the little brats to baseball practice. Dad was at work filing extra reports because it was a rough week. The house was absolutely empty.
My father stopped his motorbike in front of the door of the house. I reluctantly carried my luggage to the door with a sad face.
That was the third time I moved. I should have been acquainted with this situation, but I wasn’t. Maybe because this was the first time I did it alone. Maybe I was not ready to live independently. The homesickness was not the problem, as I could visit my family every weekend. The crucial problem was that I was afraid to move from a small village to a big city. Would my friends consider me to be a rustic girl and keep away from me? I panicked when I imagined the prospect of my life in the big city: “The Big City and the Tragedy of a Young Girl.” I’m sure that it would not turn out as well as my parents expected.
I can be found in my room with the worn pages of one of my favorite books or in my secret spot, not that anyone would look for me anyhow. I read a lot, all kinds of books, inside books is a place I could be someone else, somewhere else, and anywhere else except here. I wanted to be anyone else but me, because I feel so different. My name is Joan and I am what everyone calls quiet, maybe shy or backwards, sometimes the kids at my old school and my biological mom called me weird. Sometimes inside my chest I can’t breathe, almost like an elephant is sitting on me and that’s when the shakes and dizziness happens like leaves shaking in a bad storm. I feel like I am alone most of the time, things are scary and nothing in the world could help me feel safe. A couple weeks ago, I moved to a new home with my new family and I have my own room, with a door, and I feel safer than ever before. I never had a door before moving here and the walls of my room are pink. Pink is my favorite color; it has different shades: bright pinks and soft pinks, pink like cotton candy or like strawberries in the summertime. I am not sure if my new family knew that pink was my favorite color or it just happened, it doesn’t matter because it made me smile inside. I go to a new school now and it is nice but I don’t have any friends. I hope this changes, I hope to have a real friend.
How did Arya get here? She was lying on her back with her eyes closed. She could tell she was outside because a light breeze swept her hair from her face. She brought her hands down to the ground and felt soft grass between her fingers. She opened her eyes to a blue sky; puffy white clouds drifted slowly by. Sitting up, she saw that she was surrounded by wildflowers. Red, purple, yellow. There were hundreds of vibrant petals, and Arya sat in an almost perfect circle of grass which they did not occupy. She stood up and scanned the area. In front of her and beyond the flowers was a lake. There appeared to be a grassy bridge leading to an island in its center. In the far distance there was a waterfall running into a river that Arya couldn’t quite see from where she stood. Behind her and all around her were trees. They were very tall and thick. It seemed much darker beyond the trees, as if the sun couldn’t reach into the forest. There was one tree that stood out from the rest. It was ten times bigger in diameter than the others, and it towered much higher. It was covered in moss, making it look very old. A chill ran through her as she stared into the forest’s depths. Arya hugged herself and turned toward the lake. Since going into the forest did not seem like a good option, she started for the bridge.
I put my plate on a table, stuck in my headphones, and pretended to focus on my phone. I did not want anyone to stop by my table and talk to me…
The door slammed, and Anna fell to the floor. Hot tears streaked down her cheeks as she desperately tried to catch her breath. Heather had gone; she was never coming back, and it was all Anna’s fault. Bringing her knees to her chest, Anna sobbed into the fabric of her jeans. Laying on the floor in front of her was the engagement ring that Heather had thrown at her before storming out of the apartment.
Two months. They were supposed to get married in two months. Now the wedding was off. Rocking back and forth on the floor, Anna’s mind ran through the past few weeks, replaying all of her mistakes like bad movies. The drinking, the lies, her, Heather yelling, bags packing, more yelling, the door slamming. It was all Anna’s fault.
As we look down upon an open country side, we settle our sights onto neighboring properties. On one side lies a large farm, on the other a high quality racehorse training stable. Our story focuses on two main horses. Lightning Flash was a proud, glossy coated, young bay Thoroughbred stallion. Otis was a slightly older, faded black-and-white Shire gelding, who was also proud, but of his great strength. You can image who lives where! One day, Lightning Flash was let out into a beautiful green pasture with his two friends, Cheetah Speed and Silver Bullet. One side of their pasture’s fence ran along a road that lead to the racing facility. Across it ran the boarding fence of the farm animals’ field. Otis was grazing quietly by the fence.
“What is that?” said Flash.