Short Story #2

Another cringy piece I dug up from the depths of my computer files.

~*~*~

He arrived three years ago, bitter and angry. He was 11, six years my minor, and in those awful “tween” stages, as Pearl called it. He had a shock of brown hair, a sharp contrast to our dyed neon hair, but he refused to dye his to match. He had stormy green eyes and a sharp tongue that got him into more trouble than it was worth. 

He insisted on being called Rhys, though the Doctor told us his name was Shard. 

He was a mostly good kid, although he harbored an unnatural hatred towards the Doctor. He never said anything about it to the Doctor’s face, I think partially because the Doctor was often away, partially because he found the Doctor to be terrifying, as ludicrous as the idea seems. But whether that was the real reason or not, I was relieved that Shard never said anything to him, for a few months after he arrived, I began to see him as a little brother, notwithstanding his harsh demeanor and tendency to spread false rumors, all about the Doctor, of course. 

 

The world had ended. Whether it was 10 years ago or a century, I couldn’t say, as I lived in this haven for as long as I could remember, a rocky island in a sea of gray, the last clean— safe— place on Earth. The Doctor was really busy, risking his life by going out to rescue the poor folk who have been trapped outside, but I met him a few times. He was a good man, patient with me when I was slow, and carefully creating vaccinations against the sickness that savaged the rest of humanity. He gave us names, fed us food, didn’t ask for much in return except for us to be kind and good. I asked him once, why he was doing this for us, because I was new and afraid of how long this paradise would last. He laughed— something smooth and rich like the hot cocoa our old cook Timber used to make me, before he became hostile and angry and the Doctor had to take him away for treatment— and I felt ashamed for how thoughtless I was, for who was I to question his actions when he had saved us all. I told him so, and he smiled affectionately at me and ruffled my hair, just like I’d imagine a father would do to his child. 

 

“Dulce,” Shard murmured, as we peeled potatoes for Pearl. Pearl, a matronly woman of 24, doted on all the younger children, even Shard, until she heard Shard spreading his usual lies about the Doctor. It took her a while to forgive him, plus promises to help her with dinner every night. Honestly, these lies… Shard had to stop telling them. It’s getting to be a problem… 

“Dulce!” Shard jabbed his elbow into my side, and I squealed, only a little bit really, but Pearl looked at the two of us from across the kitchen and sighed loudly, before striding out the room. Although I didn’t think she’d ever like Shard— not after the things he said— she adored me, so she usually ignored our antics. 

“What, Rhys?” 

“I swear,” he whispered, “the world hasn’t ended.” 

I sighed. “Oh, Rhys, not this again.” 

“Dulce, it’s true! I remember when I was last out there, before your Doctor or whatever kidnapped me. The world is fine. It was summer, and the grass was green and, and I had a dog, and his name was Biscuit and we were running to, to, to my friend’s house, I think, and you could hear birds making their bird noises or whatever the word was called—” 

“— Chirp. Birds chirp. Well, that’s what the books say, at least. But Rhys, you were 11 when you came here. Perhaps you just had a dream; sometimes I do too Rhys, but they’re not true. The world has ended. You have to accept it sooner or later.” I reached over and patted his shoulder. 

“I mean it Dulce, the Doctor is not as good as you all think. It’s not a dream! He brainwashed you all! The daily vaccines he gives you are some sort of brain-washing drugs so you’ll listen to whatever he says!” 

“If what you say is true, then why do you still remember?” 

He stopped, mouth opening and closing, looking for the right words to say. “I, I, I—” 

“— See Rhys? What you’re saying isn’t true. The Doctor is a good man—” 

“— No, no, no, no!” He shouted, waving the potato peeler in the air, “I swear Dulce, I swear, the world hasn’t ended! The Doctor is a psy, psy; he’s crazy! He kidnapped us all and drugged us and put us in this prison for some sick, sick—” 

“— Sick what?” Shard froze, his face blanching. He looked at me, and then slowly up at the Doctor. 

The Doctor smiled serenely back at us. 

 

I awoke to Shard shaking me roughly. 

“I’m gonna try to escape,” he hissed, face tense and pale in the dim light of the moon shining through my windows. 

I gaped. “What? Are you crazy?” 

“Dulce, he’s gonna kill me if I stay here! He heard me, oh god, he heard me saying that he’s a kidnapper and that he’s crazy and, and, Dulce, did you know, that, that before I came here, before that sick freak decided to bring me here for God knows what, my mama, she, she told me to be careful, because, ’cause there was a mass kidnapper on the loose, targeting kids like me she said, and I told her that she was being silly because I’m not a little kid and nothing’s gonna happen to me, cuz no one thinks these kinds of things would happen to them, even adults I bet, but, but, but here I am now, and, I, I…” He broke off into soft sobs, and I had the urge to wrap him into a hug and tell him everything was going to be okay, because Shard, despite his scathing attitude and pretense of superiority, was still a child. 

He stopped though, abruptly, and scrubbed at his cheeks, face flushed from crying or embarrassment for crying or maybe both. 

“Dulce,” he whispered urgently, “come escape with me.” 

I felt my heart sink— what was he thinking? There was nothing outside this island, except disease and death. “Rhys… I can’t; you can’t! The Doctor—” 

Rhys’s face twisted into an angry sneer. “— The Doctor this, the Doctor that! Can’t you see that he’s not as good as you all think! Fine! Fine, Dulce! You can stay here with your precious Doctor. I’m not gonna stay in this nuthouse for any longer!” 

“Rhys—” I watched the door slam behind him. 

 

Shard’s voice cracked, as it rose into a careening wail of pleaseohgodI’msorryDulcehelpmepleasetheDoctorgotmepleaseI’msososorryI’llbegoodhelpmeI’MSORRYDULCEPLEASEHELPME! 

I felt a shiver run down my spine. Should I go? The Doctor got him… I swallowed. No, this was ridiculous. The Doctor wouldn’t hurt him, wouldn’t hurt anyone. Yes, that was it, Shard was being over-dramatic again. I stared at the moon-lit ceiling, before pulling the bed sheets firmly over my head and tried to go back to sleep. 

 

“Yes, sir, I know that Shard had a problem. Everyone here knows that.” 

“Good,” the Doctor said kindly, “As you’re his closest friend, I wanted to let you know that Shard is sick. We found him attempting to leave this shelter, that I have created in order to protect all of you. I have sent Shard away, for treatment. Don’t worry, I have my best nurses watching over him, I will be heading his treatment personally. I do hope you know that this is the only way that he’ll get better.” 

“Yes sir, I know, I really grateful that you’ll do this for him, for us, but… will I be able to see him again?” 

The Doctor frowned sadly. “I’m afraid not, my child. What Shard has is contagious, and he will need to be watched carefully, in case he ever relapses. This arrangement is for both Shard’s safety, and for everyone’s here too. You do understand, don’t you?” 

“Of course.” 

“Thank you, my dear… Have you taken your weekly vaccine yet?” 

“Of course.” 

 

I find Rhys three days later, while disposing of the leftover food from tonight’s dinner, shivering in the dark corner behind the dumpster. He smells like something rotten and looks worse than he smells. He flinches when I reach out to touch his shoulder. 

“Rhys?” 

He looks up at me, eyes bright with terror. Running down his chin is streaks of dried vomit and blood. My breath hitches in my throat. 

“Oh god, Rhys, what happened?” 

With shaking fingers, he scratches in the dirt the word LOOK. 

When he opens his mouth, he’s missing his tongue.

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Homework Help: English: Macbeth Act 2-3 Quote Explanations

“Thou sure and firm-set earth, / Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear / Thy very stones prate of my whereabouts / And take the present horror from the time, / Which now suits with it” (2.1.69-73).

Context: Macbeth is talking to the earth, in a soliloquy. He is making his way to Duncan’s chamber to kill him at night.

Meaning: You hard ground, do not listen to the direction of my footsteps, as I am afraid that you will tell others of where I am going and take away with the sound of my footsteps the horror of this moment’s absolute silence, which now fits with the moment.

Significance: There are several possible meanings to this quote. Macbeth could be saying that the sound of his footsteps will spoil the horror-filled atmosphere of his murder, that sound will break his trance so he’ll lose his determination to kill Duncan, or just quite literally that sound will alert others to the fact that he is still walking about. If Macbeth is saying that sound will spoil the mood, then that is an example of metatheatre, which in a way, takes away from the gruesome details of the murder, as it somewhat breaks the forth wall and remind the listeners that Macbeth is only a character in a play. This quote contains apostrophe, as Macbeth is talking to an inanimate object, and personification

 

“Methought I heard a voice cry, “Sleep no more! / Macbeth does murder sleep”—the innocent sleep, / Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care, / The death of each day’s life, sore labor’s bath, / Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course, / Chief nourisher in life’s feast. / Still it cried, “Sleep no more!” to all the house… / “Glamis hath murdered sleep, and therefore Cawdor / Shall sleep no more. Macbeth shall sleep no more” (2.2.47.57).

Context: This quote is said by Macbeth to Lady Macbeth. Macbeth had just killed Duncan, and he and Lady Macbeth are discussing what he had done. Macbeth is horrified and imagines voices that speak of his evildoings.

Meaning: It seemed to me that I heard a voice cry, “Sleep no more! Macbeth murders sleep”— innocence sleep, sleep that fixes the tangled threads of care, marks the end of each day, cleanses our aching bodies, and soothes our hurt minds. Sleep is the main course of nature and the main nourishment of life, yet the voice still cried “Sleep no more!” all throughout the house… “The Thane of Glamis has murdered sleep, and therefore the Thane of Cawdor will no longer sleep. Macbeth will not sleep anymore.”

Significance: The line “sleep no more” follows the motif of ambiguity in that it can mean that Macbeth murders those who sleep, that Macbeth has literally murdered sleep, and that Macbeth murdered his own peaceful sleep, as his murder will haunt him, preventing him from sleeping. It is also interesting to note that Macbeth calls sleep the “death of each day’s life,” which could be referring to the fact that Macbeth has murdered Duncan in his sleep or that death is the final sleep. Sleep is also the second part of the day, so it is the second, or main, course of nature, while the time you’re awake is the appetizer. Later, Macbeth refers to himself using his three names, which could symbolize the three stages of his prophesy and his development. When Macbeth says that “Macbeth shall sleep no more,” this actually refers to when he is king, as kings and queens are called by their first names, such as King Macbeth. Therefore, Glamis could symbolize his past self, which he was before he killed Duncan, Cawdor could symbolize his current self, which is who killed Duncan, and Macbeth could refer to his future self. This follows the motif of three, as there were three witches and Hecate was commonly portrayed with three faces. Also, this shows Macbeth’s feelings of killing Duncan. He feels very guilty, worried, and paranoid, so much as that he believes he will never be able to sleep again. His sleep will disappear along with his innocence, as sleep is depicted as innocent and good. The witches punish people with lack of sleep, such as when they punished the sailor whose wife was mean with a lack of sleep. This quote contains many metaphors.

 

“By the’ clock ‘tis day, / And yet dark night strangles the traveling lamp. Is ‘t night’s predominance or the day’s shame / That darkness does the face of the earth entomb / When living light should kiss it?” (2.4.7-12).

Context: This quote is said by Ross to an old man. They exchanging accounts of recent unnatural happenings. It is the morning after Macbeth killed Duncan.

Meaning: According to the clock, it is day, but darkness blocks the sun. Is it dark because night has become more powerful than day, or because day is hiding its face in shame?

Significance: This quote relates to the motif of natural acting in unnatural ways in response to Macbeth’s crime, as killing goes against nature. Duncan’s horses ate each other; chimneys were blown down; there were earthquakes; strange screams of death could be heard throughout the night, and an owl attacked and ate a falcon. The owl and falcon section could also be symbolic as a falcon is considered to be much “worthier” than the small owl. People at this time believed that social standing was determined by God, so trying to usurp someone to put yourself in their place goes against the natural order of things. Kings were believed to also have been chosen by divine powers, so killing and usurping Duncan was especially heinous. The falcon could be representing King Duncan, while the owl, a bird often attributed to death, could represent witchcraft; therefore, this could be saying that witchcraft has killed Duncan. Also, night, which can represent evil, is taking over day, which is good and supposed to be predominate. The quote also follows the motif of darkness, as Macbeth had asked for darkness in Act 1 Scene 4 and Lady Macbeth in Act 1 Scene 5. The fact that it is dark, shows that the heavens had listened to the Macbeths’ request. This quote contains personification and metaphors. It also foreshadows the consequences of Duncan’s murder.

 

If ‘t be so, / For Banquo’s issue have I filed my mind; / For them the gracious Duncan have I murdered; / Put rancors in the vessel of my peace / Only for them; and mine eternal jewel / Given to the common enemy of man, / To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings! / Rather than so, come fate into the list, / And champion me to th’ utterance” (3.1.69-77).

Context: Macbeth is talking to himself, in a soliloquy.

Meaning: If that’s true, then I have soiled my mind for Banquo’s descendants; I have murdered the compassionate Duncan for them. I have ruined my peace for their benefit and given my soul to the devil to make them, the sons on Banquo, kings. Instead of letting that happen, let fate come to the arena and fight me to the death.

Significance: The fact that it is not Macbeth’s descendants who will reign, but Banquo’s, show that Macbeth’s power-hungriness and scheming will amount to nothing good, but instead have negative repercussions on his person. Macbeth, who committed evil deeds, will be punished, while Banquo, who has been good and loyal to the king, will be rewarded. This quote also contains personification and metaphors.

 

“We have scorched the snake, not killed it. / She’ll close and be herself whilst out poor malice / Remains in danger of her former tooth. / But let the frame of things disjoint, both the worlds suffer, / Ere we will eat our meal in fear, and sleep / In the affliction of these terrible dreams / That shake us nightly. Better be with the dead, / Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, / Than on the torture of the mind to lie / In restless ecstasy” (3.2.15-25).

Context: Macbeth is speaking to Lady Macbeth.

Meaning: We have hurt the snake, but have not killed it. The snake will heal and be good as new again while we, who have committed malicious acts that now seem weak and ineffective, remain in danger of the snake’s poisoned fang that grew back to what is was before it was hurt. But I’d let the structure of everything fall apart and heaven and Earth perish before we eat our meals in fear and spend out nights tossing and turning from the plague of nightmares that haunt us every night. It is better to be with the dead, whom we have killed and put to rest in order to secure our peace, than to lie with tortured minds in a frenzy of sleeplessness.

Significance: The snake represent the Macbeths’ enemies. Although Macbeth had already became king, through killing Duncan, is spot at kingship is only temporarily secured, and he could be toppled by the other “snakes.” The fear of being realized as Duncan’s murderer and overthrown prevents him from properly enjoying his kingship. He decides that he rather destroy the world than continue to live in fear, which indicates the reign of terror that Scotland will fall under.

I drank a cup of coffee this morning, for the first time in almost a month. Maybe you’d be proud: you never liked how much coffee I drank anyway. I was reminded distinctly of you, the taste of coffee just like how it’d taste as I’d walk along the wide sidewalks of our school, when there was not as much between us and we’d sit in the library together and work on chemistry.

I delete the email you sent me, because I don’t know, and I ignored your messages because I am a lying coward. I did everything before because I didn’t want to hurt you, and I’m doing everything now because I must. I’m not sure if I was ever truly happy, but I’m sure you were, so maybe it was worth it. I hope it was.

All the best love.

Homework Help: English: Macbeth Act 1 Quote Explanations

I ran out of creative juices haha so now I’m just doing quote explanations for Macbeth. Because this is what I’m learning in class and I might as well share it because I struggle with Shakespeare. So yeah, these are awful because of that and especially because I dozed off in class (every class nowadays, actually, because I don’t ever sleep more than 5 hours anymore haha) so anyone who looks at this should read the book anyway in case I’m wrong. But really, I’m not very good at English; I’m more of a science-y gal anyway.


“So foul and fair a day I have not seen” (1.3.38).

Context: This quote was stated by Macbeth, to Banquo. Macbeth and Banquo had just been to war, as in that same day, Macbeth had killed the king of Norway, thus ending the war. They have went off on their own, while the other troops set up camp. They are talking about the day.

Meaning: Macbeth either said: “I have not seen a day that was as awful yet as nice as today is” or “I have not seen a day that was as ugly yet as beautiful as today is.”

Significance: This quote is important as it will be the underlying theme of the play. It means that things that appear good can be bad, and things that appears bad can be good. Macbeth’s line demonstrates dramatic irony, as the witches have said it before in the first scene— which also makes it a motif— without Macbeth’s knowledge.

 

Lesser than Macbeth and greater.

Not so happy, yet much happier. (1.3.68-69)

 

Context: This quote was stated by the three witches, to Banquo. Macbeth and Banquo had just been to war, and have went off on their own, before seeing the three witches. The three witches hail Macbeth, telling him that he will become king, and Banquo tells them to give him a prophesy too. The witches are telling Banquo what will happen to him in his future.

Meaning: The witches said: “You, Banquo, will not be as great as Macbeth, but at the same time you’ll be greater. You’ll not be as fortunate, yet at the same time you’ll be more fortunate.”

Significance: This follows the motif of ambiguity, similar to all the statements the witches make. The line is intentionally confusing, in order to trick Macbeth and Banquo, leading to their destruction. This is also a paradox.

 

“This supernatural soliciting / Cannot be ill, cannot be good. If ill, / Why hath it given me earnest of success, / Commencing in a truth? I am Thane of Cawdor: / If good, why do I yield to that suggestion / Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair / And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, / Against the use of nature? Present fears / Are less than horrible imaginings.” (1.3.130-138).

 

Context: This quote was stated by Macbeth, to himself. He had just received a prophesy from the three witches and had been confronted by the king’s men. They tell him that he is the Thane of Cawdor, thus completing two out of the three parts of the prophesy the witches told him.

Meaning: Macbeth said: “The supernatural temptation cannot be evil, but is cannot be good either. If it is bad, why has it promised me success that turned out to be true? I am Thane of Cawdor. If it is good, why do I give way to the suggestion of murdering the king, when the image of it makes my hair stand up and my heart beat unnaturally fast. The current fears I have right now are not as scary as my horrible imaginations of murdering Duncan.”

Significance: Macbeth believes the prophesy does not seem bad, as what he was promised turned out to be true, but it cannot be good either, as he is now thinking of murdering the kind. This line follows the motif of “fair is foul, and foul is fair.” This also shows that Macbeth is violent and power-hungry. Although many believe that Lady Macbeth is most blameworthy for the murder of Duncan, Macbeth was the first to think of killing him, despite the prophesy not mentioning anything about killing. This quote contains paradoxes.

 

“Come, you spirits / That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, / And fill me, from the crown to the top, top-full / Of direst cruelty! Make thick my blood. / Stop up the access and passage to remorse, / That no compunctious visitings of nature / Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between / The effect and it! Come to my woman’s breasts, / And take my milk for gall, you murd’ring ministers, / Wherever in your sightless substances / You wait on nature’s mischief. Come, thick night, / And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, / That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, / Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark / To cry “Hold, hold!” (1.5.40.60).

 

Context: This quote was said by Lady Macbeth, to supernatural agents. She has just received a letter from Macbeth, her husband, telling of his prophesy.

Meaning: Lady Macbeth said: “Come, supernatural agents that support my deadly thoughts, make me less womanly and fill me with most foul cruelty. Thicken my blood so my body does not have any access to compassion and make me falter in my deadly purpose or make me fail in achieving my goal. Come to my breasts and exchange my milk for bile, you murdering spirits, wherever you wait invisibly for evil. Come, night, and cover yourself with the burial cloak of the darkest smoke of hell, so my sharp knife cannot see the wound it makes, nor can the heavens see through the dark and tell me to stop my evilness.”

Significance: Lady Macbeth is asking for malicious spirits to make her less feminine, as compassion and kindness was considered to be womanly traits during that time period. This is what Lady Macbeth believes her husband should be, because he is a man, but he is not, and thus Lady Macbeth considers doing the evil deed for him, as evidenced when she says “my keen knife sees not the wound it makes.” This fits with the motif that women who are not feminine are evil, as the witches were also gender ambiguous, since they had beards. Milk is also considered a nurturing and mother-like substance, and she asks for it to be replaced with bile. Bile is one of the four humors, and having too much bile was thought to have made a person angry, quick-tempered, and reactive. Blood, on the other hand, is considered to be the best humor and is associated with good. However, despite Lady Macbeth’s desire for cruelty, this quote shows that she is actually violent and power-hungry like Macbeth. Despite the fact that the prophesy mentions nothing about murder, Lady Macbeth’s mind immediately jumps to it. However, it is shown that she is more ambitious in that she is more willing to commit the murder than her husband. There is also a motif of darkness hiding evil intent, as Macbeth had asked for darkness to hide his dark desires in Act 1, Scene 4. This quote contains metaphors and personification.


Hopefully I’ll update something actually decent next time (or like, actually update lol)!

Short Story #1

Uh, well, hi. I really don’t know what this blog is supposed to be about? Oh gosh this blog is a train-wreck, I’m telling you.

Also shout-out to T who is still here despite my erratic posting times/ inactivity/ poor quality posts! Thank you for still being here! You’re great! 😀

Ok, ok um this is a short story that I wrote in this creative writing club that I’m in. It was picture prompt day and the exact prompt that I’m choosing to write about (which I can’t find) depicted a middle-aged man holding a guitar in a space shuttle. It was perhaps one of the least inspiring photos, so of course I decided to write about it (and therefore this story is bad and I apologize for it).

Joe frowned, looking at the ridiculous photo of him holding a guitar in front of a spaceship backdrop. Awful photoshopping, really. Or just a really obvious green screen background. He couldn’t really remember when it was taken, only that Danielle forced him into taking one for her new guitar lessons ad. He sighed, wondering how she coerced him into doing that again.

“You look great, Joe; stop making that face.”

“Better than in the last ad, I guess.”

“You looked fine then too,” Danielle sighed, snatching the photo out of his hand. “You always look fine. I don’t know why you’re always like this. If you didn’t want to have your photo taken, you could have just said so.”

Joe glared at her. “I took it because you wouldn’t stop bothering me about it.”

“Fine, whatever.” She waved her hands flippantly, already starting tuning him out.

“Hey,” Joe deadpanned. “Are you listening? I swear, you act like we’re still in college.”

“Thanks. Nice to know I still look young.”

“I mean you—” He gritted his teeth, swallowing the words back in his throat. “You look forty,” he said instead, somewhat out of spite. It was a low blow, sort of, against someone who cared as much about their looks as her, but hey, he could only take her… whatever it was for so long. But really, she was always like that, so was it him who changed?

She cared too much, anyway; she looked absolutely fine— full figure, decent hair, red lips— but it was a force of habit, she told him once. Leftover from when she was a child and picked on for having slightly crooked teeth and an outcropping of pimples.

She frowned, brushing back her hair almost self-consciously. “I’m twenty-six.”

“Yeah, I know, sorry,” he sighed, slightly remorseful but not nearly as much as he probably should. Didn’t mean it. Just trying to get you to listen.”

“Oh.”

There was a pregnant pause, and weren’t those supposed to only happen in high school, when everyone was going through that awkward phase known as puberty, and discovering their sexuality and all that?

Joe sighed; everything was too difficult nowadays, with the failing economy and crazy amounts of layoffs. “You think people will want guitar lessons?”

Danielle shrugged. “Who knows? Hopefully. I’m willing to try anything now. Rent’s coming up.”

“I can get you a loan, if you want.”

“And risk not paying it off?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Danielle sighed, placing her chin in her hand. “No, it’s fine. Sorry. Just can’t believe I got laid off. I mean, it’s like you know everything’s going downhill, but you don’t think anything’s going to happen to you,

you know?” He opened his mouth, but she continued talking, so he closed it. “How’s your wife, by the way? And Sammy? She’s in preschool now, right?”

“Yeah. She likes it. Got invited to a birthday party next weekend. Kate and I are thinking of going to Bermuda in June. How your fiance? Michael.”

“Fine, he’s fine. Still has his job, but pay got docked,” she waved off his concern, “we’ll be fine. We’re always fine. Just a pain. He has to work overtime.”

“Ah.”

There is another pause. Danielle glanced at the picture in her hands, before tucking it into a large manilla folder.

“That the rest of the pictures?” He asked, nodding towards the folder. “Can I see?”

“Sure,” she said, as she handed him the folder.

He leafed through them. They were all the same, really. Plastic people with cheesy smiles holding guitars against a random backdrop of something exotic. He tried to image Danielle sitting down and meticulously photoshopping dozens of ShutterStock-like people onto crazy, color photos of otherworldly places. He couldn’t. So green screen then, probably. He wondered how she afforded it, but immediately felt guilty afterwards.

“Nice,” he said, though he thought they were all pretty awful. Not as bad as his looked, at least.

“Don’t lie,” she replied, “I know you don’t like them. You never like them.”

He shrugged, and tucked them back into the folder. “When’re you getting married?”

“Hopefully next year,” she sighed, “I don’t know. When money isn’t as tight, I guess.” She tugged the folder from his grasp.

“Oh,” he said. Another pause. Nowadays there seemed to be many. His phone buzzed, loudly, breaking the silence. He glanced at it: text from Kate. “I have to go. Gotta pick up Sammy.”

“Mmm. That’s nice. See you later. Tell her I said hi.”

“Who?”

“Both. Either. Doesn’t matter.” She gave him a half-hearted backwards wave, already tuning him out again.

“Alright,” he said, “tell Michael I said hi too.”

There was no answer, so he slipped out the door, locking it behind him.

Alright so tell me what’d you think? Constructive criticism would be helpful.

And thanks for stopping by/ reading/ commenting/ etc! 🙂 🙂 🙂

Hello, hello (again)

Hello and thank you to whoever is still here/ any new readers! It’s been a long time since I posted anything.

I’m sorry about that, and for any future hiatuses; I’ve been struggling with personal issues.

But anyway, I wanted to start blogging again, though updates will definitely be irregular (sorry!). I may also restart my fanfiction account, which I don’t think I touched for months (years?).

This blog will be about everything and nothing at all. It’ll be filled with my rambles, random drabbles, and homework help/ answers (a friend of mine jokingly told me that we should create a blog helping students with high school anatomy questions, because anatomy is the scourge of our sophomore year).

So… without further ado, welcome to “An Extraordinary Entirety” and please enjoy your stay.

“Waiting for You” Contest Submission Story

I knew, I knew, I should have started this blog in the summer. Blogging is awfully time-consuming and I just don’t have enough time and I’m just never sure what to blog about and then I put it off and forget to do anything. I’m sorry if this seems like I’m making a bunch of feeble excuses (and maybe I am) but in all honesty, I’m just an all-around horrid blogger (and a walking wreck on top of it).

Weeelllll… I won an honorable mention in this writing contest, haha. Wow. I did not expect that. I got sent a certificate and everything too. It’s not really all that great though, in all honesty. Like my writing. And winning an honorable mention, since like a hundred or two other people won too. The story I wrote called “Waiting for You” and there’s a load of tense shifts, grammar/ spelling mistakes, etc. I pasted it below, if anyone would like to read it.

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Waiting for You

He should have expected it really, because to tell the truth, Grandpa was rather old now— although he didn’t look it or act it, he was nearly approaching 80— and it was a known fact that people became more susceptible to injury as they age. It wasn’t like Grandpa was invincible or something, yet somehow, Marco just never thought that something like this would happen.

It happened in early December, the 8th, a Thursday.

It had snowed the night before, but the weather had warmed up before dropping again, so instead of an elegant smattering of snow dusting the ground, the ground was covered by a layer of brownish-grey and half-frozen slush.

He was walking home— because he couldn’t live on campus since money was tight already without any extra unneeded expenses, and besides, he only lived 10 minutes away from the school— when he received the call. He fumbled with his phone, his numb fingers almost unresponsive.

He was greeted with his eccentric neighbor’s shrill voice.

Wincing, he had asked, “Do you need somethin’, Ms. Scott?”

She responded with some words he didn’t catch, and he heard someone in the background speaking.

“Hello?” he asked again.

This time, his sister Luciana had replied. “Marco?” she sniffled. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. What happened?” Worry bubbled up in his stomach.

“Grandpa fell. We’re at the hospital.”

“Marco?”

Marco blinked back his thoughts, focusing on his little sister. “Uh, what?”

“Would Grandpa…” She bit her lip and looked down.

He sighed, “I don’t know, Lucy. I’m not a doctor.”

“What happened?” Marco stood, watching their faces anxiously, hoping that this was some sick, cruel joke and that nothing had really happened and that they could all go home and continue to live their lives.

Instead, he was answered with a choked-back sob from Lucy.

Ms. Scott steps forward. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry dearie.” She placed her bony hand on Marco’s shoulder and he resisted the urge to shake it off. “I don’t know what to say. I was walking out to get the mail, and there I saw your poor grandfather lying there on the ground. He must have slipped on some ice, the poor soul. Naturally I called 911. I was so worried and I—“

“—That’s great Ms. Scott,” he’d interrupted, “Thanks for helping my grandpa.”

“Oh, it’s no chore at all dearie,” she beamed, “I must be going now though, I’ll see you two darlings later.”

“Marco? Marco!”

What?” he’d snapped.

Lucy flinched. “Oh… um… nothing, never mind. Sorry,” she squeaked, ducking her head again, as her cheeks flamed scarlet. An awkward silence descended over the two, and Marco felt bad for yelling at her. It wasn’t her fault, not anyone’s.

“No, it’s fine. Sorry for snappin’ at you. Just, thinkin’ ‘bout you know…” He gestured to the emergency room doors, where the red sign— like the ones in a movie, that signals that Grandpa was still undergoing surgery— was still flashing. “What were you going to ask me?”

“I just… He didn’t even… It was barely 3 steps! How can he… just by falling?” Her voice rose higher and higher as she spoke.

“I guess he hit his head hard when he fell. And who knows how long he was layin’ out there…” Marco felt sick just thinking about Grandpa lying on the frigid ground, injured, maybe even dying.

From the muffled sob that escaped Lucy’s lips, he could guess that she felt the same.

“Lucy, you know Grandpa is not invincible. He’s old… so just… if anything happens…” He trailed off, not wanting to voice the thought out loud. If he did, it’d just be too finite, and besides, Grandpa wasn’t… that yet.

“Lucy! Come ‘ere!” Grandpa had shouted up the stairs, laughing heartily, “Look what you got.”

It was Lucy’s 10th birthday. The three of them, and just the three of them, had always celebrated birthdays together. Lucy had scrambled down the steps, squealing excitedly about how she was going to get something from some sort of popular new fad that Marco never really understood.

She’d leapt over the last four steps, flinging herself into Grandpa’s waiting arms. He’d spun her around, once, before she wiggled free and dashed over to the small pile of presents.

She’d torn open the presents, shrieking and laughing and thanking Grandpa profusely. He’d only laughed, bending over to ruffle her hair, and told her to bring out the cake.

Grandpa was healthy. He’d pull through. Marco couldn’t imagine life without him. He was positive Lucy couldn’t imagine life without him, either.

Impatiently, Marco stared at the glowing red sign again. He unconsciously pulled his phone out his pocket and glanced at the time. It was about a minute before he realized he and Lucy had been waiting in the hallway for over three hours. He wondered what was taking the paramedics so long. He squirmed in the hard plastic seat and glanced back at Lucy. She’d fallen asleep. He faced forward again and fidgeted. The wait was agonizing. He dimly remembered something similar happening to him when he was younger.

Marco was 9 and Lucy was 5. They were both waiting somewhere— where exactly, Marco wasn’t sure— afraid and confused.

“Where’s Mommy? Where’s Daddy?” Marco had asked, over and over and over again, until he was no longer sure what he was saying anymore.

Lucy had wailed, loud and long and she would not be placated by any of the people who came over to check on the two of them.

“Marco, Lucy,” someone had said, and Marco remembered that Lucy was so surprised that someone knew her name that she stopped crying.

“Where’s Mommy an’ Daddy?” Marco demanded automatically.

A pained look passed over the man’s— Grandpa’s, though they know it was him at that time— face. “Why don’t I tell you when we go home?”

“Home?”

“Yes.”

The sign dimmed before shutting off completely, and the door slowly creaked open.

Marco sat up straight, waiting eagerly to hear the doctor’s response. He elbowed Lucy in the side, and she shot up, looking around confusedly, before realizing where they were.

The doctor looked at the two of them, “Are you related to Mr. Giovanni Acardi?”

“Yes… I’m his grandson. How… how is he?” Marco asked, hesitantly, suddenly very afraid of hearing the answer.

The doctor looked worn and tired.

“I’m sorry.”

Behind him, Marco could hear Lucy crying.

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What do you think?