May 18, 2013 - 10th Contest!

[Grace, Head Moderator]

For our tenth contest, I want you to write a fictional story based on the picture below. Don't think of the picture as a rubric though... let it inspire you. And think out of the box. But remember: letting it inspire you does not mean that you can look at a picture where the main color is purple and think "Oh, the color purple inspires me," and then go write about a purple dog. Your story actually has to do with the picture, or else it will be eliminated.



Rules:

1. It must be at least 300 words (anything less will be deleted and disqualified from the contest) but no more than 1,500 (anything more will be deleted and disqualified from the contest). NO EXCEPTIONS.

2. No commenting on others' stories. Only writing entries will be accepted in this thread. If you want comments on your stories, post them in the Critique folder. If you have questions, concerns, or suggestions, this is where to go: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/9...

3. No sex scenes.

4. Keep cussing to a minimum (it's ok if a word slips out here or there, but please keep it PG-13)

5. Have fun and DO YOUR BEST! And vote for the winner!

Entries are due by Saturday, June 1st. Voting will begin that day.

[Livvy]

This Cannot Be Happening, by DIUC.


A blinding light pierces through my closed eyelids, and I start awake. I rub my eyes, waiting for the spots I'm seeing to disappear. I prop myself up on my elbows and then I also wait for the desert to disappear.
It's gotta be fake, right? I have no recollection of living anywhere near a desert or traveling to a desert, and since the sun makes people see things all the time...that must be what this is.
Right?
It's still not going away, though the spots have vanished. I take a closer look around and realize I'm, a) not wearing a shirt, and b) not wearing shoes either. There's no plane near me, no car, no fourwheeler, not even a freakin' kiddie bike.
Tell me this isn't real.
I bury my hands in the ground next to me and it gives way, because it's sand. I pick up a handful and sniff it, taking a good whiff. I even go so far as to flick my tongue out, and lick it.
It's salty, and dirty at the same time.
It's sand.
"This cannot be happening." I climb to my feet and look around. Now my mouth is dirty tasting and drying out quickly. The sun's getting to me and I feel sweat run down my bare back in warm trickles.
This cannot be happening.
I sprint down the dune I woke up on, but sand is harder to run on than solid ground, so I trip and go tumbling, headfirst, towards the bottom of the dune.
I land at an awkward angle, and quickly realize sand can be just as hard as solid earth.
I quickly climb back to my feet.
This cannot be happening.
"Hello!" I yell, my voice already rough and scratchy. How long had I been out here before I awoke? A few minutes? A few hours? How the hell would I know.
I stumble around for a few more minutes, shouting like my life depends on it, because it actually does.
Suddenly I hear a reply, faint at first, but growing louder.
"Luper...Luper. Luper!" The voice starts shouting my name, and I try to yell back, but I can't speak and I look down and notice cracks starting to appear on my arms and crawling down my chest.
As the voice grows closer, as it grows louder, the cracks start to multiply and I feel this awful sensation in my gut, like something just isn't right.
"Luper!!!"
My body starts to shatter into a million pieces and the last thing I manage to mumble out,
"This cannot be happening."

I jump awake as Mr. McDonald slams his hand down on my desk, hard. The class laughs as I wipe a small bit of drool from the corner of my mouth.
"Well, Luper. Next time you think taking a nap in History is a good idea, make sure you don't talk in your sleep," Mr. McDonald says, walking back to the front of the classroom.
The class laughs again, and my ears burn as I slouch down in my seat.
"This cannot be happening."

[FantasyFan J]

MISSION No. 10 - THE GOLDBASS
by FantasyFan101
695 words
Jason was not making the best of his mission in the Desert of Misery.
Jason had a hard time getting to the desert in the first place, and now finding the thing the boss wanted was even more miserable than the desert itself. Not that the desert wasn’t miserable.
The thing the boss was looking for was the Well of Joyfulness, on the far side of the Desert of Misery. This well didn’t just have normal water in it, but the great Goldbass Fish lived inside this particular well.
The Goldbass was a fish of such a color that if all the purest jewels had life, the jewels would bow down to this fish.
The only things that Jason did have to help him were his pack, with the one-hundred-twenty water bottles inside, and his friend, Mike, who also had one-hundred-twenty bottles.
“Great,” said Jason sarcastically. “So we’ve flown over here by plane three days later than we were supposed because of cancellation.”
“It’s not the worst,” scolded Mike. “Look at all the other people that have failed on this mission.” Mike pointed to a dry skeleton. “Look at him. It’s not worse than that.”
“Well, at least he’s dead, so he doesn’t have to face this infernal desert any longer,” replied Jason.
“Yes, but because HE’S dead doesn’t mean WE’RE dead,” scolded Mike again. “And the only way Mission N0. 10-May 18 is going to be finished is if we live. Drink those water bottles up, and we’ll be famous.”
Jason thought of what it would be like after he caught the Goldbass. Fame, as Mike just said it.
Fame meant something different to each one, but somehow the same. A penthouse on Broadway, a personal servant, no chores, stuff like that.
They kept on going toward the far west of the Desert of Misery. The two companions were feeling some sickening feeling that something in this mission would go horribly wrong. The team drank from their water bottles for the whole afternoon, and around 3:30 PM, the two came to a halt.
Jason fell onto the ground and took huge sips of water at once. When he was done drinking, he asked while panting, “Okay, you want to have our meal?”
Mike sighed, “Depends what it is.”
Jason pulled out his bag and looked through it, he found something good to settle on. “How about a turkey sandwich?”
Mike’s face brightened at the sound of his favorite meal. “Oh, yes. Bring it on in. Load it on the plate.”
Jason pulled out the sandwich and handed it to Mike with a “Here you go,” and then Jason took his meal, a taco, and put it on his own plate.
The two ate together in silence, again thinking about what fame meant to them, and what it would do for them.
After fifteen minutes of thinking and eating, the companions set off again to find their pale, enchanted gold.
The two reached the mid-western side of the wretched desert a couple of hours after lunch.
“Good,” sighed Jason, “We’re almost to the side of the desert where the Well of Joyfulness lies.”
“Yes,” said Mike. “But folks say that these cursed sands get worse as it gets nearer to the well.”
It was true. The desert was getting more dangerous as they neared the well of endless fame.
The two walked on carefully until the Well of Joyfulness came into their sight. The squad started to run, and THAT was a big mistake.
The desert was getting more dangerous, so when the two started to run, Mike tripped on a rock and hit his knee against the ground.
Jason whipped his head around and saw Mike on the ground. “Mike! Hey, Mike! What just happened?”
“Twisted…my…ankle,” Mike mouthed a bit louder than a whisper. “Could…you carry me to…the…end?”
“Sure thing, buddy,” said Jason as he lifted Mike off the ground and onto his back.
Jason carried Mike up the dunes toward the final stage of the mission. He came up to the monument, looked inside of it, and…
…there was nothing in the well.

[[deleted user]]

Unrealized Dream (810 words)

Kent sat in the Sun while watching his daughter and wife – Cecilia and Helen – played by the beach. Watching them laughing are enough to made him felt like walking on air. Enjoying the happy life that he still had. A family that he swore to care and protect.

“It’s time!” He shouts. It was time to go back.

The walk back to the hotel is just two blocks away from the beach. Cecilia had already fallen asleep in Helen’s arms by the time they reach the hotel. Helen took off her coat and hangs it in the wardrobe. After that, she plop herself lazily onto the bed. She looked exhausted.

Kent then put Cecilia next to her mother and pulls the blanket to cover them from cold. He walked away from Cecilia and Helen and went for the door but was stopped by Helen.

“Where are you going?” She asks. Although she was feeling all sleepy but she still had to carry out her duty as a wife. And knowing where her husband went off to be one of it.

He walked across the room and sat down. “ Don't worry; I'm just going out for a little walk. If anything happens, call me.” He said.

“Okay... yeah sure.” It was hard to stay awake.

“I love you, Kent.”

“Love you too, Helen. And always will.”

Kent gives a peck on Helen cheek and then went to do the same to their lovely angel. Cecilia squirmed a little bit under Kent touch before she went back into her dreamland.

He caught Helen eyes and both stared deeply into each other eyes; sharing thoughts that even words cannot express. They stay like that for a moment before Kent broke the eyes contact.

Helen watch as Kent goes. She wants Kent to stay, but she had to let him go. She sent him with a smile. But deep in her heart, she feels like this is the end. It feels like Kent is washing away from her and Cecilia. She hugs her sugar baby tightly, feeling the warm body beside her. Finally, sleep claimed her.

Not knowing the disaster that awaits them.

Kent strode along the side of the beach with bare foot. Holding his shoes in each hand. Stomping the sand with more force than necessary. He drags out a long sigh as if the weight on his shoulder had fall off. Humming some random song that he had just heard on his way to the beach.

He lost in the deepest thought. Felt as if he became one with nature. Caressing him with pleasure and calmness. The wind slammed into his face felt like cotton.

This is the kind of life he had wanted. A family that he need. A family that need him. A place where he could call home. A place where people waiting for him to come home. He would do anything to protect them. Even if it means losing his life.

Kent watch the sea sparkle through the moonlit hit upon them. He reminds himself to bring Helen and Cecilia along next time.

“What a beautiful full moon tonight.” He spoke to himself.

He glanced to his watch. The time showed a quarter past midnights. It is high time for him to return back.

The walk back was the most peaceful time ever. Since, most of the people had just gone to bed or was having their dream. The hotel that he and his family had stayed in was already in sight. But...

A loud ‘boom’ sound was heard and Kent felt the earth shaking. He ran towards the hotel as fast as his feet could take. It was a terrible sight. With parts of the building scattered around on the sand.

He realised that his memorable family trip had vanish right under his nose. Kent fell down on his knees. He tried to stand but his feet felt as if a heavy rock had settled on his thigh. He slammed the crystal sands beneath him in anger. Blood trickled from his knuckles. The pained from the impact was nothing compared to what he felt. He shouted from the top of his lung but still no answer.

He felt very tired, very hurt and very sad. His throat felt sore. This was not supposed to happen – not this… NIGHTMARE! He was so frustrated, so mad.

The fire bombers were having a hard time extinguishing the fire. He could only watch as the fire sort out until what remained was black dust and the hotel charred frameworks. No one was found. Not even a single life.

Many years had passed. But, Kent felt as if nothing changed. The memories still fresh in his mind. For him all hopes had disappeared. Nothing left except for the last word of love. Wealth will be gone. The leisure will be forgotten.

[Gabriella]

Never Ending Sky Words:1,121

Sand. That was all we could see for miles upon miles of rolling hills and dunes that seemed to stretch out for infinity. The heat was intense; beating down on our backs and necks, hanging in the air as thick and as heavy as fog, causing the hills in the distance to waver like water and blend with the horizon. I hiked further along the barren dessert with my partner at my side, who was panting heavily but not slowing his pace yet. The only other sounds that filled the vast air were the soft clanking noise of my thermos against my leg, and the occasional far off caw of a buzzard circling high above its prey. I heaved a sigh and shifted my backpack for the hundredth time.

“Want to switch off now?” suggested Matty as we paused for a moment.

“Yeah, it’s about time to switch,” I answered, sliding my pack off my back and handing it to him, who, in turn, swapped me for the weapon sack. I slung the sack over my shoulder and waited as Matty strapped on the backpack.

“How much further we got now?” I asked Matty.

He thought a moment before giving me his estimated answer. “I’d say only a mile or two left,” he shrugged. “How you holding up?”

“I’m hanging in, but this damned heat is making it feel like we’ve been moving slowly backwards instead of toward the clave.” Matty nodded and blew a sigh to move his golden locks out of his eyes.

I opened my mouth to say something more but cut short when I heard a piercing cry not far off. Matty and I both tensed and moved so that we stood back-to-back. We made a slow circle to check the perimeter, but saw nothing.

“Strange…” remarked Matty slowly. I nodded and resumed hiking, but I still stayed on high alert. Not three minutes later did we hear the cry again, closer now; the voice high and shrill, a blood curdling cry of despair, none the less. I looked over at Matty to see what he was thinking, but he was scrutinizing at something off in the distance. I followed his intense gaze to see a small figure some hundred yards away. It was close enough to tell it was standing upright, like a human, but it was too far away to tell details; just a dark smudge on the sandy hill. Matty crouched down and I followed suit as we army crawled in that direction. I was too low to the ground now to see the thing over the hill and adrenaline coursed harder through my veins; awaiting the sudden arrival of the figure at any given moment.

The sand was hot and burned my arms and the grainy texture made it difficult to crawl this close to the ground. I made a small groan as I made my way across the desert. Matty made an abrupt stop and dropped onto his stomach. He motioned for me to come closer and do the same, and I did, setting myself inches from his face.

“Here’s the plan,” he whispered, “as soon as I give the signal we both pop out of the sand and attack from opposite directions if it’s what I think it is. If we come up and it’s a normal mortal, we drop the weapons and just go along. Got it?” I nodded; no questions about it. “But first we need to arm ourselves. Fiona, hand me my favorite sword, you know the one.” I obeyed and reached into the sack to pull out his slender, silver, sword. It was almost cool to the touch, even in the Arizona heat. I handed it over to him, then reached into the bag to grab my weapon of choice; my nun-chucks.

I crouched in a ready position and waited for Matty’s signal. He lay on his stomach and peeked over the dune. After another still moment, he crouched back down, gripped his sword tighter, and then nodded to me; signaling our attack. I sprang out of the sand and bolted toward the figure, brandishing my nun-chucks. Matty remained silent and swift as he kicked up sand. I saw the figure turn and start to run as well. I pumped my arms harder and pushed the remaining energy in me to catch up to the figure.

The chase was well tipped to our advantage, seeing as we were better equipped for this desert heat and much faster and swifter than the average human. In a moment’s time we had closed in on it from each side. Now that I was up close I noticed a few more things about this figure: for one he was most definitely male, he was cloaked in a dark robe- an odd choice in clothing for the desert- and lastly, he didn’t cast a shadow; one of the biggest hints that the man we were up against was no average human.

Matty was quick to make his first attack, lashing out with his sword and connecting with the man’s shoulder. I took this moment to make my move, delivering a blow to the chest with my nun-chucks. The man staggered and slowed a bit, but I knew that our weapons would do nothing to stop him. There was only one thing to do.

“Matty!” I called, rushing over to him and falling into step. “Put away your sword; it won’t do us any good.” He nodded and slid his sword back into its sheath. Together we ran; heads tilted, eyes slanted, until we closed in on him a second time. Only this time I didn’t pull out my nun-chucks, but instead grabbed onto his cloak. Matty advanced on the other side and did the same. And at the same moment we yanked it off of him; exposing him for what he really was. His skin was pale and scarred on his bare chest, his eyes pools of black, teeth pointed and sharp. He hissed at the sun and gave us a look of pure hatred.

“Odd time of day to see one of your kind out here,” Matty remarked as he towered over the Vampire sprawled on his knees. The Vampire growled at him but had no time to retort. His skin sizzled and began to crack, beams of white light pouring out of each one. He began to disintegrate before us; his skin quickly turning to dust. He cried out as he turned his fading face upward, and yelled in snake tongue words I didn’t comprehend, until he had reduced to a pile of ash. Matty and I didn’t look back as we continued our way under the never ending sky.

[Audrey]

Shattered
923 Words

Dylan sighed as he sat in his fold-up chair on the porch. The breeze through his hair relaxed him almost immediately after the long, hot, sunny day. It would be the last week of the summer until they had to leave their beach home in Old Lyme. Oh how he would miss it.
His friend, Hali, lived next door and often came over to visit. They’d often go to the beach often which wasn’t five minutes down the street from they’re houses. Sometimes, they’d go have some Italian Ice if they had the money.
Everything seemed perfect. And they had one more week to make it the best.
“Hey, Dylan,” Hali walked out onto the porch where he was sitting. She gracefully sat down in the chair across from his, “You bored?”
His gaze rolled over to Hali’s, he nodded. “Yeah, I am. Say we go to the beach?” He stood up and yawned. “I don’t want to go back home. It’s so boring there. I like being here in the summer,” he smiled.
Hali nodded, “Well, when you’re eighteen years old, you can move here. Then I’ll be able to grab a Vespa, and drive to your place.” Hali, having lived near the beach all her life, had yearned to go to Europe for many years. She had been saving all her money to somehow go there. “Of course, I’ll probably be in Italy most of the time,” she laughed.
They grabbed their stuff and headed for the beach. Usually, it’d be crowded in the summer. But since it was the week before summer vacation was over, most of the kids were getting ready to head back. Therefore sunsets were always so peaceful. Together they sat down in the sand and watched the water lap in and out of the shore.
Dylan turned his head toward her, “Hey, Hali.”
She swiveled her hand in the sand. Her eyebrows went up, “Hm? What’s wrong?”
He shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess I’m just going to miss you.” He shifted his gaze to the water, “Really, I will.”
Hali, who was somewhat concerned at his sudden sadness, took Dylan’s hand. She expressed a happy smile, “I know. I’ll miss you too.” She glanced behind her at the beach bar, noticing a man playing My Heart Will Go On from Titanic. Hali had always loved that song, but she never knew why.
“You like this song?” Dylan asked, looking behind him noticing the music as well. “It’s so sad. Why, it brings nearly everyone who listens to it to tears.” He held Hali’s hand in his. Dylan gasped and quickly let go of her.
“What? Are you okay? You seem unsettle,” she patted Dylan’s back. She gazed back into the ocean, listening to the soft music. The scene was really something of a beautiful painting that an artist labored over for months, making sure every shade of orange, red, blue, and purple in the sky were noticeable.
Dylan’s face was blank and he became pale. He slowly turned his head over to Hali, “That’s horrible.” He stood up and looked down on her, “You know what? I actually want to go home.” He pushed her into the sand, cutting her face and shoulders.
Hali was shocked, “What’s horrible? I didn’t do anything.” She winced in pain, What has gotten into him? He’s changed suddenly. She tried to stand up, but failed miserably.
The pianist stopped his song, the beach police ran over to assist Hali, and the people on the beach all just stared.
The world seemed to freeze. Everything slowly disappeared as if a rock was thrown into glass. It was gone, and so was she.
~
Dylan awoke in a white room and in a hospital bed. He was extremely confused and tried moving. Nothing hurt, so why was he there?
Questions rang through his head when the doctor stepped into the room. “Good morning, Dylan,” he said. “How’re you feeling?” He rested his clipboard on the counter and he sat down in a chair.
“I feel fine. What happened?”Dylan asked. “Why am I here? And where am I?” He tried asking more questions but couldn’t recall what had happened before he had woken up.
The doctor sighed, “Well you tried attacking your friend on the beach in Old Lyme the other day. You’ve been out for three days. To sum it all up, it seems you thought badly about her for a second, threw her onto the ground, and then you were out.” He handed Dylan a cup of water.
He took the water and sighed, “What friend?” The shattered memories slowly came back to him. He couldn’t remember who it was, but he knew that he loved her. He gulped nervously, “Is she… you know.”
He raised an eyebrow, “You mean dead?”
“Yeah.”
He sighed, “Hali woke up yesterday around seven o’clock at night.” The doctor looked at Dylan, sadness all over his expression, “We don’t know if she’ll make it though the week, but it’s a possibility if her health improves.”
Dylan gazed out the big window, “I did this.” He sat up, “And I need to make it up to her.”

A few things were shattered; we built them up using what we could find. Yes, our lives have a few cracks here and there, but we can help each other by preventing that crack from becoming the mess we’ve already fixed. I think we’ll be okay that way, and I hope it stays. Italy is amazing and you really should come visit sometime.
-Hali