July 1, 2013 - 13th Contest!

[Grace, Head Moderator]

For our thirteenth contest, take a look at this:

People handle goodbyes differently. Some prefer celebrations. Some prefer sentimental recollection. Some prefer quick "I'll see you soon"s.

Write a story in which your character is saying goodbye to someone or something he/she cares about.

Rules:

1. It must be at least 500 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 Monday, July 15th. Voting will begin that day.

[Gabriella]

No Sound Word Count: 1,159

Taking one last calming deep breath, I finally opened the car door, letting in a chilling autumn breeze. My legs were shaking like a nervous dog, and they felt as though they were made of jelly as I made my way up to her front door. I lifted a nervous hand and knocked attentively three times. Oh God, what am I doing here? I thought that doing this would be a huge mistake, but I knew that if I stayed, I would be making an even bigger mistake. I could only hope that she would understand.

I didn’t hear any movement behind the door, or any sign that she was coming to answer. I knocked again, a little louder this time, and waited. By now my mind was racing with all the “what if’s” that had crept in my thoughts last night before I had decided to come here today. I wondered if it was too late to turn back before she noticed I had been here. But I wasn’t a coward, I had to do this; I needed this closure to move on. But there would be no closure if she never answered, and behind the door there was no sound.

I waited, standing there without a jacket on her front porch, cold and chilled, hoping she’d answer soon. I paced up and down, back and forth, I knocked again and again, I called her cell, I left her a text message, I peeked in the window- not in a perverted way- yet, there was never an answer. I knocked one last time, and behind the door there was no sound.

Before I knew what I was doing, I had my hand on the doorknob. I twisted it and, to my surprise, it opened. I crept silently across the wooden boards and quietly called her name. “Opal? Opal, are you there?” All the lights were off, and I wondered if she was even home, but I knew her better than anyone else, and I knew she never ever left her doors unlocked when she wasn’t home. She had to be here, in this house somewhere, but where? I looked down every hall, opened every door, but behind each door there was no sound.

Frantically, I ran to her room and collapsed on her familiar bed, taking in the scent and feel of each scent and texture I knew so well. The tears fell on their own, there was no way to hold them back as I was taken back to this nostalgic place filled with so many memories. A small blinking light caught the corner of my blurred vision and I reached out to pick up her cellphone. One missed call and one missed message from Derek. She would never leave without her cell either. She had to be here, she had to! I set the phone back down and tore myself away from her bed. I restarted my search through her house, checking each bathroom, each bedroom, closet, everywhere. Then it dawned on me, the one room I had missed. I walked through the kitchen and opened the mahogany door to the bleak room. Her car was parked there, another sign that she was here, and then I saw her, I finally saw her. But behind this door there, too, was no sound.

She stood there, wearing a dress I remembered all too well, the one she wore on the night of our first kiss at prom. She looked so beautiful, so peaceful, even now wearing her special necklace. I ran to her, but it was as hard as running through water, all air was sucked from my lungs, as I stared at my best friend, my one love, and my only heartbreak. I reached out to brush her cheek and looked at her unblinking brown eyes I loved so much. “O-Opal…,” I managed to choke out. I cradled her in my arms ever-so carefully and whispered to her, “Opal, I know it’s a little too late, but I want you to know I love you; I never stopped loving you. I never wanted to fight, I never wanted it to be this way, but-but…” I couldn’t go on, it was all too painful. I waited for an answer, a word, a breath, but there was no sound.

I let her go gently, and the realization and weight of the situation finally set in; crushing me with the force of a thousand tons. I looked away from her, I couldn’t stand seeing her tired to the rafters with the rope that way, the paleness of her calm face, and her never blinking eyes that stared off miles away. The thought that she had been alone this way for who knows how long was the scariest thing in the world. I had always wanted to be there for her last breath, holding her hand to make sure she made it to heaven ok; never in a million years would I have guessed this would have happened. Now that it had happened, I felt that this was my fault, like I was the one who put her in this, like I was responsible for her pain; I felt like I killed her. I lost my balance, I forgot how to breathe and I grabbed onto the tool bench for support. I tried to scream, but there was no sound.

A slip of paper floated to the ground, landing next to my foot. I scrambled to pick it up, and as I did, I noticed my name written on the front of the envelope. I carefully tore it open and plucked out the note, her suicide note. It read, Derek, I knew that you would be the first to find this, and now that you did you know now that it’s too late. I don’t know what you came to say, but I’m sure it wouldn’t have changed my mind, but I want you to know that this wasn’t your fault. Our break up was just the thing I needed to push myself. I’ve been struggling with a lot of stuff, and you let me forget that when we were together. But since I lost you I’ve realized that I never really had you. There was too much you didn’t know about me, and I should have told you sooner, but please remember me fondly and don’t let this stop your dreams. I knew you were leaving town soon, so I want to say good luck, you always had such crazy plans and ideas. Please don’t forget me, but things will be better without me. Just let me say that I love you, Derek; I never stopped loving you, and remember that I’ll be rooting for you all the way from a better place. So goodbye and good life and I’ll see you again someday. But until then, keep on fighting.

Final Regards,
Ophelia Merrick

[Emily]

An Everlasting Farewell
Word count: 1,093

Melina’s porcelain skin is unflawed, rid of scars, and only radiates peace. But how can it when it witnessed so much— felt so much? Her eyelashes seem to flutter, hopefully meaning that her eyes are moving, are going to be opened, but no. It’s just the stir of the stale air brushing against her face from the fan in the corner of the small hospital room. There is only a blank face— an empty white canvas, unaware of anything.

Static. That is all her mind is. Does she have any thoughts floating around her brain right now? Is she even capable of really thinking— knowing? If there is any brain activity, all that it can be focused on is the steady hum of the machines attached to her still body. The hum is overlapped by a passive beep, beep, beep. Her heartbeat. If you can even call it that. Does she know she is living on artificial life? Can she feel it? No emotion. No answer. Don’t expect one.

A sensational feeling of disconnection drifts through the atmosphere of the stuffy room. Melina’s porcelain skin is still unflawed, still rid of scars, and still only radiates peace. But now with only one difference. Blue. Ocean blue eyes stare at something in the same room— someone. Wait, there is yet another difference. It is not the lifeless Melina’s face that looks. That Melina is motionless and emotionless, lying in a hospital bed. This Melina with wide open blue eyes is a spirit. Her own spirit. She looks from her weightless arms and hands to her physical body beside her. The face of her spirit crumples as it looks upon herself in a coma.

Her spirit moves— glides to all sides of the room, frantic with the thoughts and emotion that are now able to flood her brain. Yet her brain is still unreal— still connected to the artificial life. It will never be the same again. Spirit Melina struggles to remember what happened. Struggles to remember anything. But it is to no avail.

Suddenly there is noise outside the door to the hospital room. She can hear voices on the other side of the door. She stands in the middle of the room, too afraid to go and see what is happening, too afraid she will be seen, even though she knows she won’t be. She’s just a spirit— invisible. She glances at her physical body with blankets pulled up to her chest, undisturbed. Then she carefully puts her ear to the door and listens to the conversation in the hallway.

“Sorry, sir, but I can’t let you go in. Visiting hours are over.”

“But you don’t understand. I have to see her.”

Spirit Melina sucks in an unneeded breath. That voice. The voice of a boy so very familiar.

The metallic door knob rattles violently.

“It’s locked, sir. Come on, you can’t be down this hall at this time.”

The sound of two sets of footsteps fade as they walk away.

Something surges through Melina’s spirit figure as she realizes that the boy with the familiar voice is leaving. She grabs the door knob and tries to twist it open but nothing happens. Her hand slips right through it.

She rolls her eyes at herself. “Duh,” she whispers as she passes through the door without opening it.

She stares at the backs of a nurse and a boy with shaggy brown hair. The boy slowly walks towards the elevators as the nurse branches off into the nurses’ office, taking off the chain of keys from around her neck and puts it on the desk. The boy glances behind him once the nurse goes into a room in the back, and he runs over to the desk.

That’s when Spirit Melina gets a look at his face. It all comes back to her; the smell of a double-shot mocha drink, him bringing her one, too; wrapping up in his Varsity jacket when she gets cold; noticing how hard it is for him to find the right words to say to her, especially about how he feels; him wearing his heart on his sleeve, and giving it to her.

“Kellan?” Her hand flies to her heart and feels it flutter under her touch. Can her being near him make her wake up from all of this?

Kellan snags the chain of several keys and hurries to Melina’s hospital room door. He rushes right past her spirit, not noticing her. She doesn't expect him to. He frantically tries many keys in the lock and none of them work. He lets out a frustrated breath and Spirit Melina feels the obstruction, too.

Finally he gets the right key and flings into her room after looking to make sure the coast is clear. Spirit Melina rushes in with him as well. He silently shuts the door and locks it from the inside.

He hesitantly makes his way to her bedside and stares down at her face. Her beautiful face. “Oh, Melina.” He touches her blonde hair that acts almost as a halo, spread out over the pillow behind her head and shoulders.

“Kellan,” Spirit Melina chokes out in a perishing voice. The beep, beep, beep on the monitor slows and her vision grows fuzzy. His presence is not helping her wake up. It’s worse now.

The heartbeat on the machine goes to a flat line and a monotone sound echoes through the room.

Kellan grabs the hand of Melina’s physical body as her spirit fades.

“Goodbye,” her spirit figure manages to mumble to her body, to her boyfriend, to her life. Yet she gets no response, no goodbye.

Why is she the only one to say goodbye to the things that she cares the most about? Doesn't anyone consider her as something they care most about? She fades and fades until she’s eventually nonexistent. She’s on her way to the great beyond, dragging the sun beneath the clouds as she goes.

“Melina, no. Please.” Kellan hits the machine, hoping it’s some kind of mistake. He sits on the bed and leans over Melina’s dead body and hugs her. Tears fall from his eyes and drip onto her ashen skin. “I know I should have come sooner. I know. Please forgive me. I love you, Melina. Goodbye.”

The spoken farewell is overdue and unheard. It falls flat. It’s too late for the words to be sucked into open, listening, begging ears. Melina does not hear her goodbye, but she feels it. The feeling of Kellan’s goodbye is everlasting.

[Grace, Head Moderator]

Update: Date to enter by has been pushed back to Monday, July 22nd. This will be our last contest for the year since not enough people have been entering.