Earthquake

I did some writing today! My dad gave me his laptop cause he’s totally awesome like that and I took it for a writing test run. It did wonderful!

So, I wrote two stories, one I like more than the other.

The first one was for two different things: 1. The five words that have to be used in a story for writing group; 2. a contest on Gaia. The contest theme/prompt is: “a girl is about to jump off of a building, what are her final thoughts.” I changed it from a building to a cliff, but it still works.

Here it is:

Nicole had always felt like she was just going through the motions ever since he’d died. That was three years ago. Everyone told her that it would get easier with time, that she would pick up, feel better, move on, and –the worst of all- she’d find someone new. 
None of them understood though, none of them seemed to really get it. She didn’t want to move on, she wanted to be with him and only him. That was all she’d ever wanted and she’d fought so hard to get him. The memories of him came to the front of her mind and brought tears to her eyes. 
She’d been a student enrolled in some kind of international study program where they were backpacking through Europe as part of her History major. That week they were in Germany, touring all of the historical landmarks. They were also lucky enough to be there during Oktoberfest. That was where she had first seen him. He was tall, toned, and wearing a pair of lederhosen that left nothing to the imagination. She’d spent that entire week trying to get his attention doing everything she could just short of being his stalker. It wasn’t until her last day there that she finally caught his attention. Of course what caught his attention was her dancing on a table, drunk, singing German songs that sounded more like a cat hacking up a hair ball than an actual language. 
A strong gust of wind that came up the cliff she was standing on brought her back to the present. The water looked cold and ragged, crashing against the cliff’s base. She wondered what had brought so many people to this spot, to this exact location, to kill themselves. She’d come here because she heard a story on the news about it. There was a guy who lived across from this spot who, when he was home, would come out and invite the suicidal person to tea. Maybe subconsciously she hoped that he would come and save her with a warm cup of tea and a nice smile. Consciously though, she didn’t want him to show up. 
“Hello,” came the voice she’d heard on the news talking about what he did. He was an older man, in his 80’s. He’d been helping people for what was it, fifty years? 
Nicole didn’t look at him, afraid his kind smile would break her concentration. “Hello,” she replied though, not wanting to be rude. 
“There’s a storm brewing and it’s cold out here, why don’t you come inside and have some tea?” 
She shook her head, blonde hair falling in her face. “No thank you. I like storms.” Her German lover had always loved storms. As he was dying he would tell her that he would always be in the storms, the wind his voice, the lightening his love lighting up her world. She’d asked him about the rain, what it would be, and he’d said –without missing a beat- that the rain would be his tears as he missed being with her. 
“That’s fine, we can stand out here. My name’s Steve, what’s yours?” 
She was quiet for a moment. She could tell him the truth that her name was Nicole but she decided to go with what her lover had always called her. “Felicity,” she said simply, her eyes out on the horizon. He’d always said that she was his felicity, his source of happiness. 
“That’s a nice name, really pretty.” She could hear the smile in his voice, even if she wouldn’t look at it. No wonder so many people came back from the edge because of him; he was genuinely nice. His wife must be proud of him. “How come you’re out here, Felicity?” 
She almost felt like laughing. Wasn’t it obvious? Though the rational part of her mind spoke up and reminded her that he probably wasn’t asking why she was here but what drove her to this point. She took a slow deep breath then spoke. “He’s dead. He’s been gone for so long… It doesn’t get easier, they all said it would but it hasn’t.” She sniffled. 
He made a noise to show that he understood. But what did he understand? The love of his life was still alive, she knew it from the news. “How long ago?” 
She was tempted to look at him, but that would be a stupid idea. “Three years. He… he died three years ago.” Her already broken heart shattered all over again and she took a small step forward, her foot hanging halfway off the cliff. 
She heard him shuffle forward and could feel his hands close to her body, not touching her as if he were suffering from a clumsy streak and if he actually touched her, he’d trip and push her instead of help her. “I’m sure there are plenty of people who benefit from you bring alive.” 
She laughed a cold and cynical laugh. “I’ve pushed all my friends away. There is nothing left for me here. I just want to be with him.” She finally turned to look at him. “Remember me,” she said softly then fell backwards, the wind whipping her hair around her face. 
She could feel his arms around her as the wind caressed her, his tears of happiness as it began to rain. 
Before she hit the water and sank into the darkness of her mind, she smiled.

Bit of a depressing mass, ain’t it? The guy I mentioned in there that lives across the street from a popular suicide point is true. He goes out and offers them to come in for a cup of tea. I forget where he lives though.

The second story is also for two things: 1. The three minute story, even though it’s too late to turn it in, I wanted to try it; 2. another contest on Gaia. The prompt is just a horror story between 500 and 1000 words. It’s 600 words. Depending on what you guys say about this one depends on if I actually turn this one in or write a different one.

Some people swore the house was haunted. That was always the town legend. So was it really any surprise that Joey’s dare that Halloween was to spend the night in the old house on top of the hill? 
Of course not, and he wasn’t about to turn down the dare just because he was scared to the point he was about to piss his pants. He was a big boy of 20, he could do this. 
The night started out boring filled with Joey sitting on the old, broken couch having a staring contest with the creepiest doll he had ever seen and he had seen a lot. His mother ran a museum to dolls and he’d spent many a summer day with his mom at work, going room to room staring at the eyes that always stared back. It was a wonder he didn’t have a phobia of the things. This doll though, was deformed. Why the hell anyone would want a doll that looked like a melted burn victim was beyond him. But he stared at it anyways. It passed the time. 
That was until he heard footsteps in the hallway. He rolled his eyes and got up, the couch creaking loudly as he did, and headed for the door from the living room to the hallway. “Ok guys, that’s really funny!” 
He stepped out into the hallway and looked around. No one. 
“Come on out guys, I know you’re here!” 
He jumped as loud thudding began down the stairs, like some huge person was coming for him. It was probably Freddie. That guy was huge! So he headed for the stairs with a false sense of bravery. “Oh no, I’m so scared!” he faked and stepped onto the first stair. The thudding stopped then was right in front of him. He stumbled back, his eyes searching for what could have made the sound but there was nothing there. 
Boom boom boom! 
He backed up towards the front door but the noise kept up with him, then feet formed from nothing followed slowly by legs and the rest of the body. The milky apparition was a thick man with a twisted grin, looking ready to pounce. And pounce he did, right at the young man who was pressed against the front door. 
Joey screamed as the ghost exploded on him. When nothing happened he turned and grabbed the door handle, but the door just shook in its frame. “Dammit open!” He kicked the door then ran for the stairs. There was a veranda above the door, maybe he could jump down from there. 
He tried every door on the second floor, his breathing heavy. “Come on… let me out of this place!” he whined, fear obvious in everything he did. 
He finally made it to the last door and tried the handle, expecting to find it locked like all the rest. To his surprise, it opened, but when it did, he began wishing that it hadn’t. 
Blood covered the walls in splatters like a child had thrown its food across the room. On the bed on the corner was a torn up body, and another one in a chair by the doors to the patio. 
Joey became light headed. His breathing came hard and his eyes rolled back in his head. 
When his friends found him the next day, he was still out. They called for paramedics who took his in an ambulance to the hospital. 
Joey never left the hospital and still suffers nightmares of that night. 
Nothing was ever the same again.

I think it’s rather weak, but I was running out of words. It’s actually 596 words long, just short of 600.

So, what do you guys think of them?

Laters!

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One thought on “Earthquake

  1. I rally like the first story best. You take it in an unexpected direction. I thought you'd have it where the old man's wife had committed suicide there and that's why he tried to keep others from doing it. And it's good that, every now and then, someone trying to do good actually fails. Makes things more realistic.

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