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Weekly Contests > Week 39 (July 20 - July 25) Done

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message 1: by Arthur, Live a little Give a lot (new)

Arthur | 554 comments Mod
Please do not use a story previously used on goodreads. After the week's contest, you are welcome to put it on your profile writings, but please refrain from using stories you have already put on there.

You have until Saturday afternoon to post a story on here. Please post it directly onto this topic, rather than posting a link. Also, please do not discuss stories on here. You must go to Weekly Short Story Contest Discussion for that. This will avoid any clutter and confusion, so that people can simply come on here and read the story, without having to read comments on the story.

This week's Topic is Frostbite. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Objections post. The rules are pretty loose. You could write about frostbit, frostbitten, frostbiting, frostbites, pretty much anything. Just have the word in the story.

Weekly stories must be at least 500 words long to 2,500 words long. (if the whole story won't fit in one post, divide it into two)

Good luck!

Arthur [acting for Clare:]

P.S. PLEASE say if you would like to have your story on Short Story Galore, if you win. This way it wouldn't take me ages to get your consent afterwards. This includes adding a link to your stories. If you want to have your story on the Short Story Galore, but not the link, just say so.

message 2: by ~Sunny~ (new)

~Sunny~ | 207 comments coool :)

so, who won last week?

message 3: by Christy (new)

Christy Stewart (christyleighstewart) Davis did

message 4: by Moody (new)

Moody Claire (singurl) | 22 comments i didnt make it lol. but it's okay. i made it on the spot anyway so that's reasonable.

message 5: by Christy (new)

Christy Stewart (christyleighstewart) You got really close!

message 6: by Paul (new)

Paul I felt really bad. Missed the deadline by a matter of hours last week. Worked really hard and wrote a story about a new drug called 'rapids' which turned the user into a raging werewolf. Must get out more!!

message 7: by Miinnniiiiie(: (new)

Miinnniiiiie(: u and davis?

message 8: by Lauren (new)

Lauren (djinni) I believe I saw that fight. In the suggestion thread>?

message 9: by Lauren (new)

Lauren (djinni) It's the same principle of watching a fire or a train wreck. Morbid fascination.

haha, I sometimes wish the people on goodreads were in my life in real life. There are some awesome people here.

message 10: by Miinnniiiiie(: (new)

Miinnniiiiie(: yup

message 11: by Lauren (new)

Lauren (djinni) X) He's actually one of the coolest people here.

When fights have the element of wit, like a dance, then it's fun. When it's just insults it's not cool at all.

message 12: by Lauren (new)

Lauren (djinni) Then you must think of me as shallow, as I am most certainly as annoying and arrogant as he can be. X) I just haven't shown that off yet.

What is the first word?

message 13: by Lauren (new)

Lauren (djinni)

A collection of my superiority complex's results. Plus some philosophy and science. That is basically all I do here, really.

message 14: by Lauren (new)

Lauren (djinni) So, I can assume you aren't an atheist like me?

Yeah. But that group basically died. Why?

message 15: by Davis (new)

Davis (davismattek) How exactly can you justify calling me shallow?

message 16: by Lauren (new)

Lauren (djinni) Well, first ask her what she defines as "shallow." X)

message 17: by Davis (new)

Davis (davismattek) I only think about myself? Hmmm. That's rather interesting of you to stay. How how I think I'm mature and better than everyone else?

message 18: by Lauren (new)

Lauren (djinni) You were there? That must have been quite a while ago.

"because you act shallow."

Not defining.

"nd you don't seem to think much about how others are going to react to what you say."

That's blunt, not shallow.

"You only think about yourself."

How so?

"You think you're so mature and so much better than every one else, which only proves that you're immature. "

I smell logical fallacy here.

message 19: by Davis (new)

Davis (davismattek) Jessica wrote: "*rolls eyes* As usual, cynical teenagers thinking they always have to be right, and being smart alecks.


Yes, and you don't think your right? Logic fail.

message 20: by Davis (new)

Davis (davismattek) Sick need? How do I have a 'sick need'?

message 21: by Davis (new)

Davis (davismattek) When I'm wrong I admit it. Simple as that.

message 22: by Davis (new)

Davis (davismattek) And don't you think it's rather hypocritical to accuse me of needing to be right when your trying to prove yourself right?

message 23: by Davis (new)

Davis (davismattek) I totally agree with you. I really am quite sick of arguing with you, neither of us have a point and we are both acting very immature, so I would prefer if we could just finish this. Fighting all the time is making me not want to get on goodreads, so can we please stop?

message 24: by Lauren (new)

Lauren (djinni) "As usual, cynical teenagers thinking they always have to be right, and being smart alecks. "

A fate from which you have no escape from. X)

message 25: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune Paul, WAYYYY up there u mentioned that you missed last weeks deadline? Well you can post the story on this contest if you want, just have like the word frostbite in it if you can.

message 26: by Lauren (new)

Lauren (djinni) Your brain is going through a hormonal process, and the "center" where rational action and consequence is assessed is going through changes, making it slightly deficient in it's function. Ergo, why teenagers are often irrational or risk-takers. It's simply science.

Besides, how old are you? If you're under 13, then get back to me when you've felt hormones yourself. You can't know unless you experience it firsthand.

message 27: by Niki (new)

Niki No. Homormones vastly change your thought process. It's scientifically proven.

message 28: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments *cough* aaaand story contest week 39 continues....

message 29: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments hahahaha, writers ftw :D

message 30: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments hahahahah i know...

message 31: by Moody (new)

Moody Claire (singurl) | 22 comments Necklace

Author: SiNgUrL
Words: 502

Kendra walked far away from the cabin. It was raining hard and the path deeper to the woods was wet, slippery and muddy.

"I have to find it!" she thought to herself.

She lost something very valuable to her. She lost her best friend Miko's gift to her on their last friendship anniversary. He was her best friend since they were five. She lost the rare necklace he gave her, which he found and bought from a trip to Rome. She lost it somewhere when she wandered alone in the woods earlier.

"Don't worry about it. If it's lost-" Miko said with a smile of sincerity that he understood it though he couldn't hide that he was a bit upset about the lost of the necklace.

"No! I need to find it!" Kendra cut him off but calmed down a bit.

As soon as she was sure Miko fell asleep, she walked out to the woods trying to follow the trail she took earlier but now she seemed to lose her way. The forest grew greener and she wasn't sure if she was still following the right path anymore.

She earned bruises and scrapes. She strated to feel dizzy looking at every corner for the lost necklace. She was soaking wet.

It was getting darker and she lost her way. She couldn't get back to the cabin and it already started snowing.

However, she wasn't thinking about anything else. She didn't worry about the coldness even if she was already freezing. All she thought was she needed to find the necklace because it meant so much to her. It was a representation of Miko's heart.

She fell down when all the mud was already covered with white snow. She was numb. Her bare face and neck felt burning, dried and wounded. She couldn't feel her body anymore. Neither her fingers nor her toes.

She curled up alone on ice. She couldn't find the locket or the cabin. She would die. That's what she thought. The freezing temperature was suffocating her and the snow was starting to bury her. Black dots filled her vision and she believed it was the end of her. Then she passed out into the darkness.

She woke up and heard voices and a panting dog.

The warm sun bathed her body with the summer heat. She woke up from a dream, which truly happened in the past. She touched the necklace which Miko gave her back. He found it on that snowy day for her-for them. It was the day Miko told the truth that he loved her as more than a friend because he realized how life could be so short and unpredictable.

And now here they were on the beach for their 10th anniversary with their son, Hanz and dog Marmee.

Snow and winter were the symbols of their love. Not because they were cold to each other but because it brought the Frostbite that made their decision to confess their endless love for each other.

message 32: by Moody (new)

Moody Claire (singurl) | 22 comments guys! hope you like it like lonely soul from last week's contest. I thought it was longer when I wrote it in my tini-tiny notebook but i was

message 33: by Moody (new)

Moody Claire (singurl) | 22 comments thanks Jessica! :)

message 34: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune loved it! very good :)

message 35: by Catamorandi (last edited Jul 22, 2009 05:04PM) (new)

Catamorandi (wwwgoodreadscomprofilerandi) Randi's story
Short Story Galore - no


The quaint little town called Freezealot, Norway is quiet and serene, for a change. It lay in the northeast corner of the country. It is definitely not quiet most of the time.

In Freezealot, there is a road called Frostbite Alley. Horrible, awful sounds come from that alley every day, all day. Groaning, growling, moaning from a man caught in there who neither can get out or die from being in such extreme cold.

Of course, no one even begins to want to go help the man they have called Heathbert. The name drives them all away. Also, is the fact that no other man has gone in there and lived through it. Poor Heathbert. He howls, moans, and groans waiting for someone to be brave enough to come and help him.

"Shouldn't even be alive, for pity sakes," says Sven.

"I don't got no guilty conscience about it. Not me. He never shoulda gone in there in the first place," retorts Ollie.

The congregation (members of Freezealot) feels that if Heathbert would have been smart, he would have stayed away from Frostbite Alley instead of trying to help the last poor victim of its clutches. The minute he walked in there, the population figured it would be the last they would ever see of Heathbert, and it was.

Sometimes they can hear old Heathbert calling names of the villagers, in hopes someone will come and help him. He calls Ollie and Sven the most, because they have the biggest hearts in all of Freezealot, but they know what will happen if they try, so they stay away from that particular alley. They know if they go near it, their hearts will rule over their heads and will lure them in to help Heathbert.

The sun comes out. It is a beautiful day. It is only 32 degrees below zero out today. Suddenly, there was a groan so horrible, it almost changed Ollie's mind about saving the poor wretched man. He fought the urge, and it takes an awful lot of fighting also.

Then Heathbert calls Ollie's name again with a pitiful and long howl. Ollie looks sadly, pleadingly at his best friend, Sven. Sven pulls Ollie back and slaps him. He has to wake his friend Ollie, or he doesn't know what will happen.

The groaning and howling out Ollie's name went on and on for many days. It is a hypnotic howl. Heathbert calls Ollie's name consistently. The trance has finally been started.

Sven comes over to see Ollie. He looks at Ollie's eyes and knows something is hideously amiss. He can't quite put a finger on it, but he slaps Ollie out of whatever spell he was under.

Sven decides to look something up in the Freezealot Encyclopedia. He's got it! Here is the legend of Frostbite Alley. How it originated, and what needs to be done to get rid of the curse that has made it the way it is for oh, these many years.

He knows he was going to have to be quick about figuring out the curse-ender, or Ollie will be the next poor schmuck to fall into its haunches.

It seems that a long time ago, there was a spiteful young man who hurt as many people as he could in one week. It was almost like he was trying to reach a quota. One of the people he hurt the worst was Beulah the professed witch of the village. Every village had a witch at that point in time.

Well, Beulah was not happy about the state of affairs caused by this young man and gave him a curse. He would stay in an alley that was pure frozen everything and make him live through it forever and ever.

The only way he would ever get out of this alley is if he can get someone to come and help him out. Of course, that would defeat the purpose of the curse, so anyone trying to help him out will be the Frostbite Alley's next victim.

Beulah gave the young man a chance to get someone in there by giving the man, Godfrey, a hauntingly, spellbinding howl. This way, Godfrey, had a chance to come back into society and be a good citizen of her village. If Godfrey could put someone in a trance with his howl, and the recipient go to help him, Godfrey would be free and the person who helped him would be trapped in Frostbite Alley for the rest of eternity.

Beulah also made up a clause that would tell how to get rid of the curse once and for all. You need some rabbit fur, wolfsbane, hemlock, parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. When you have those things (doesn't matter how much), you put them in a fishbowl, and sprinkle the mixture over the offender's head. Then, you take the fishbowl and put it over the offender's head, so (s)he looks like an astronaut. That will be the end of the curse.

Sven thinks, "And no one has looked this up in 253 years? It's so simple. A child could do it. Well, I am going to do it, and I hope everyone will help me. I want this curse gone, before Ollie becomes its next victim."

He takes a week to get all of the ingredients, especially the fishbowl. He quickly goes to Frostbite Alley to take off the curse. Ollie was on his way to Frostbite Alley. Sven tries to stop him, but Ollie is deadset against not going in there.

Quickly, Sven runs into Frostbite Alley, finds Heathbert, and pours the ingredients on his head. Then, with a little effort, he puts the fishbowl on his head, so he looks like an astronaut.

Lo and behold, Sven; Ollie; and all the other villagers see Frostbite Alley quickly melting away. Heathbert becomes a regular person again, and the little village calms into a quaint, quiet village.

message 36: by Davis (new)

Davis (davismattek) Starting mine now.

message 37: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune haha that was great! cute story :)

message 38: by Catamorandi (last edited Jul 22, 2009 09:07PM) (new)

Catamorandi (wwwgoodreadscomprofilerandi) XD - Thanks, Clare

message 39: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune Name: Dancing on Ice

By: Clare

Words: 1,669

Notes: Um.... kinda a boring story. sorry. my minds been pretty blank lately.

* * * *

I wandered through the Summer Season Fair, curiously stopping at each stand. The Summer Season Fair was one of the four public celebrations held during the year. There was one for each Season. Winter, Spring, Summer, and Autumn. The Summer celebration was by far the longest, lasting a week. Most of the Season Fair traveled to each corner of the kingdom over the year, while the locals would set up their goods in stalls all around the fair. The Season Fairs always came around the end of each season for us, our city of Karomalin residing near the borders of Malern, our great kingdom. It was always the busiest time of the year, and the most exciting. People sold more of their goods during the Fair to people in all the surrounding areas, than any other time in the year. People could win prizes and show off their skills by entering the games and contests held constantly during the Fair. The Season Fairs were what kept our country together, bringing the people closer, and offering an opportunity to people of all ages.

I had entered the dancing contest, but did not have to be in the dancing tent for another hour. So I wandered around, gazing at all the wonders to behold at the Summer Fair. There were strangely dressed people everywhere. When the Fairs had first begun, people had fought constantly. With other countries, with each other. It was the Fairs that had brought Malern out of its worst time. Still, when it had first begun, many had felt the need to be disguised from family enemies that attended the Fairs also. Therefore, it had been common to come with a mask. Now, though there was not really any need, many people kept up the custom, working for weeks on their costumes. There were contests for best costume also, making it a fun pastime. Previously, I had always done so, but this year I was saving my costume for the dance.

The people that trained and traveled with the Fair were the most amazing to watch. They seemed to learn and do new things every year. People threw knifes at impossible targets, blew fire, put full swords down their necks, performed extraordinary stunts. There was so much to see, and only a week to see it. I wanted to run from place to place, but I forced myself to slow down, and appreciate every new site.

Seemingly seconds later it was already time to be getting dressed. I rushed to the dance tent, excitement making me jumpy and nervous. I started to get into my costume, thinking of all the work I’d put in just for this week of dancing. I used to be an acrobat, which I had enjoyed, but not so much as dancing. Something about dancing drew me in and delighted me. After five years as a practiced acrobat, I had finally decided to switch to the more graceful and mysterious skill. I had entered last year had not placed at all. I was more confident this year, having devoted hours to practice. I had perfected the art and added my own acrobatic twist to the traditional dance. I was determined to at least place as third or second, if not first. It all depended on what this year’s contestants turned out to be. Would there be better dancers than last year? I hoped that with my costumes, dance technique, and plain uniqueness, I would set myself ahead of the other contestants.

I had spent time and money on my costume. Most of the other girls dressed in scant little dresses that shamefully showed much of their skin, thinking that it gave their dance an edge, when really it was only setting them all together and making them all seem the same. I had done the complete opposite with my costume. A stretchy but clingy black material covered almost my whole body. My feet, my legs, my torso, and all the way down to my hands, which a triangular piece of material reached to the middle finger of each hand. It had a high neck and ended in a jagged sharp pattern, in contrast to my pale skin, but blending into my long black hair. On top of this I had placed a dark red sleeveless bodice and flowy skirt that reached the knees, the whole thing with jagged strips of orange and yellow running throughout. The bottom of the skirt was cut in a largely pointy pattern, and it flared every time I moved. The top of the bodice was also toothed, and the whole thing was covered randomly in tiny pieces of white glass beads that caught the light giving it all a shimmery effect. My theme was fire.

Most of the other dancers were not the best. Poorly made costumes, poorly constructed dances. They were here for fun, not expecting any reward in return. But a few, just a few, were excellent. Extraordinary. I began to become nervous. Did I really have the skill to win this people, these girls who had danced their whole lives waiting for this day? When my name was announced I stepped out into the main dancing area and signaled to my friend, Lyss, who was playing the lute for me. She started to play a long famous ballad song, which started out quiet and mysterious, and came to a loud dramatic finish. Perfect for my ending. Once the music began, I forgot about the crown and the judges and my own nervousness, and I started my so familiar routine. I mixed in graceful spins and leaps with flips and handstands. Finally came the end of the dance, the most dangerous part. I did a dramatic swoon to the side of the arena, and heard gasps come from the audience. Just as I hoped they would. I would surprise them. I reached behind the curtain and grabbed the stick another friend of mine handed me. I leapt up unexpectedly carrying the stick, and heard more gasps and some cries. The ends of the stick were in flames. I whipped it about as the song became more wild and unpredictable, and completed a few flips and other feat while holding onto the stick, with my hands, feet, and mouth. I leaped around the round border that ran around the dance arena, doing spins and leaps on the thin wood as I went. Finally the song came to its dramatic and sudden end, and I snuffed out the ends simultaneously, and bowed lows as if my life had ended with that of the fire’s.

message 40: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune There was a silence for so long I thought that perhaps I was really only practicing again, with no specters. But then the tent erupted with applause and I dared look up again. Everyone looked stunned. The Fire danced that I had performed had never been done before. I looked nervously at the judges. How had the excepted this new sort of dance? My worries were calmed as all ten judges held up their wooden signs, each with three ruts in it. I had gotten the ultimate high score, which I hadn’t expected. I had won this Summer Fair’s dancing contest, and the prize money to go with it. I left the tent beaming, with people on all sides of me congratulating me, and a bag of coins in my hand. I’d never felt so happy!

Two hours later I was joyfully prancing about the fair, spending my prize money on frivolous things. A woman who looked to be ten years past my current eighteen, came up to offer me her congratulations.

“Take this,” the woman said, handing me a goblet filled with icy liquid, of a frosty blue color. “It is a special drink from Loaranja,” she continued. Loaranja was a boarded kingdom with many strange but wonderful delicacies. “The Fire Dancer deserves such a drink!” she said. I wondered where I had seen her before, for surely I recognized her, but perhaps she was one of the judges. I reached for the goblet, and almost took a sip when a young man came up and abruptly took the goblet from my hands. I stood there stunned as he glanced in the cup and flung it away.

“Frostbite,” he hissed, “You would poison her?” he directed at the woman. I gasped.

“What she deserves,” the woman hissed, and was gone. I remembered then where I had seen her. She was one of the professional dancers that had entered the contest, I was sure of it. I remained still, and felt the blood drain out of my face as I realized I had almost been poisoned.

“Painful and lethal,” the young man said, shaking his head in disgust. “Are you alright?” he looked at me in concern. “You did not drink any of it, did you?” he jolted at the thought that I might have.

“No,” I snapped out of my shocked stupor, “I just can’t believe... can’t believe anyone would...would... want to... poison me...” I shuddered.

“Here, I will escort you to your home. It was a truly horrible thing for her to have done, and no doubt you are shaken.”

I nodded numbly and let him lead me out of the fair and to my front door. “T-thank you,” I stuttered, realizing that he had saved my life.

“You are most welcome,” he answered, bowing courteously. “I’m glad I was there at all. I was sure I smelled the poison, and seeing that you were the winner of the dance contest, I figured that you would have gained a few enemies.”

“Yes...enemies...” I said faintly. I was going to need some sleep and time to think about this all. I started for my door but the young man stopped me and said,
”You were astounding, by the way. You deserved to win.” He smiled and then he was gone.

I went inside dazed and fell onto my bed for some much needed recuperation.

message 41: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune haha thanks :) idk, its was kinda long and full of descriptions, but ooooh well.

message 42: by Catamorandi (new)

Catamorandi (wwwgoodreadscomprofilerandi) I also like it, Clare! I like medieval stories also. It was a great story.

message 43: by Catamorandi (new)

Catamorandi (wwwgoodreadscomprofilerandi) SiNgUrL, I loved yours. It is very touching.

message 44: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune thank you :) everyones prob like, "its about TIME the stupid mod posted a story..." haha

message 45: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments awwww well yeah, only not "stupid" mod. just mod ;P
hahaha jk :PP

message 46: by [deleted user] (last edited Jul 24, 2009 05:10PM) (new)

Title: Forgetting
Author: Joelle
Word Count: 1497
Short Story Galore: yes

It was the middle of December in New York City. Molly was stumbling down the sidewalk surrounded by the men and women headed off to their various jobs. Who were, in turn, surrounded by the skyscrapers. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her nose was bleeding, but she didn't seem to notice. Her green eyes were wide with fright. They scanned everyone they landed on, searching for a familiar face, or at least someone to help her find her way. No one bent down to ask who she was. No one asked her where she was from. If they had she would have told them she was a lost orphan from London. They would have laughed and asked her where she lived. She would then tell them that she didn't know. They would then have taken her to the police and helped her to find her way back. But no one did. They let her keep walking, confused. With a bloody nose.

Molly walked down the street, peering at the hot dog carts and skyscrapers with wonder. Her head was filled with panicked thoughts. The kind that fill your head when you get lost in the mall. Her head hurt terribly and she kept falling down. None of the people around her seemed to care about the girl with the scraped knees below them. Every time she bumped into one of them she would look up at them. They would briefly look down and continue walking. She saw no recognizable face in the crowd. No one she remembered. No one she could run to and trust that they would know her. No one she could trust would hold her in their arms. No one she knew would take her somewhere warm and safe. Somewhere that she could call 'home.'

Speaking of warm, it was cold. It being the middle of December and all. Molly didn't have a coat. She wrapped her arms around herself. As she continued to walk she still shivered violently. Molly had reached a street light. Hoping she wasn't going to get frostbite from the cold, she stopped amidst the assembled party. As soon as the light signaled they could walk she was swept across the street. She let herself be moved thinking vaguely of the path of a river as she did so. Thinking of a river made her think of the Thames and she felt a burst of homesickness.

As she continued to walk down the sidewalk, Molly began to wonder who she was looking for in the crowd. Who was taking care of her if she were an orphan? Was she really an orphan or was that an illusion? If it was an illusion, how had it come about? Who was she with? Why wasn't she with them now? Why had she been on the ground when she woke up? Woke up?! She must have passed out. Why had she passed out? Why hadn't someone stayed with her? Where had she been when she'd started anyway? Was she really from London? If she wasn't an orphan, her being from London may have been an illusion as well. Too many questions. Her head buzzed with them, but she pushed them out. She couldn't deal with them. She was already beginning to bump into more and more indifferent people. How old was she? Thirteen. She was thirteen. At least she remembered that.

Now the people around her had stopped. Molly was forced to stop as well since she couldn't move in the crowd. As they began moving again she was swept along with them. The memory of the Thames had been from a History Channel documentary. She liked to watch those. That one had been about the various fevers and epidemics. It had been interesting. She had been scared of the place ever since because of it however. She was walking on a crosswalk now. They must have been stopped for the traffic lights. Her luck. She always ended up waiting for the things. Yes, she was sure she was from here. Here being New York City. She was old enough to be allowed to walk around if someone was with her. Now no one was. She was remembering things now. Just small things, but still.

Molly was still going down the sidewalk. She was searching for familiar faces in the crowds and remembering. She remembered the skyscrapers. The city was full of them. Everywhere you turned was another towering building. Some were apartments, some were offices. There were smaller buildings too. Those were schools and post offices. Some were even houses or businesses. The businesses usually had another on top of them or an apartment. It seemed that there could never be enough housing. Occasionally she would she spots of grass. Some people had flowers or herbs planted in window boxes. She soon remembered even the school she went to, for even orphans have to go to school.. She remembered walking to it from home. Where ever that was.

Absorbed in her thoughts, Molly had reached another set of traffic lights. The crowd had thinned. There were more houses here. Even some lofts. Just as the light signaled she could walk, a little boy ran up to her. His face and clothes stirred something in her memory. Before he could talk she stepped forward and smelled him. His smell was familiar, but she couldn't place it.

"Molly?!" the boy cried. He was about her age, maybe a little older. His hair was blonde, slightly longer and wavy. His eyes were a very beautiful blue. He sounded confused and elated at the same time.

"That's me," Molly said calmly.

"Where did you go?! You hit your head on that wall and I went to get your mom to help. When I got back, you were gone." As he said this his eyes shown with worry.

"You're Sam right? I can't remember much. Wait, you said I have a mom. Where is she? I want to see her." Molly was remembering more and more. She had a mom and a dad. She had a crush on Sam. She lived three blocks down and a left from where they were.

"I left her down by your house to look around. I'll call her." Sam took his phone out of his pocketed, dialed, and spoke for a few seconds. "She'll be here in a few minutes."

"I have a crush on you, Sam," Molly said, looking right into his eyes. He turned red and looked down.

"I like you, too," Sam said. By now, Molly's mother was running around the corner on the end of the block. She was thin, with red, curly hair. One of her eyes was green, the other grey. Molly and Sam exchanged shy smiles and Molly ran to her mother. They hugged and after a few seconds her mom pushed her back.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again," she said, trying to sound angry, but not hiding the love in her voice.

"I won't, Mom. What's your real name? I can't remember that. I can remember everything, but that," Molly said, curious.

"That's because I never told you. I didn't want you to know. No one knows my name, only my initials. I'll tell you though. It's Tearfox. Don't laugh!" she said. Molly had started to laugh, but quickly stifled it. "Oh, baby. Your nose!"

"I didn't get frostbite, did I?" Molly said. She remembered that from a Discovery Channel feature about the Himalayas. Some of the climbers got it from the extreme cold.

"No," her mother replies laughing. "But we should get you back inside."

Sam came over to them and began to tell her about the incident, since she couldn't remember that, either. She had been walking over to Sam's house to do a science project. It was only a couple doors down, so she hadn't brought her coat. Sam had even walked to her house to walk her over. On the way, someone 'punk,' as Sam said, came by on a bike and hit her. Molly had hit her head on the wall and passed out. The street wasn't that busy either, so not many people had been around. Sam had run back to Molly's house, but by the time he had finished explaining it to her mom and come back, she was gone. They had obviously found her in a pretty good condition.

message 47: by [deleted user] (new)


When they had all gone back to the house, Molly cleaned her nose and her mom called a taxi. The taxi drove them all to the hospital to have her checked out. Molly was fine, with only a few bumps and scrapes. She had only retained temporary amnesia, if she didn't remember anything, it would soon be back. Molly and Sam completed their science project that night and went out for dinner together the next night.

They lived after. The bumps in the road bringing wonderful adventure.

message 48: by Amber (new)

Amber (iceapple95) | 41 comments Ha nice Joelle, just one question: Where did the one green and one grey come from? Wait how did you spell it, gray or grey? Anyway really good! I'm going to do the next one! :D

message 49: by [deleted user] (new)

grey, I've used a character description like that before and I liked it. I haven't used it in forever so...

message 50: by Amber (new)

Amber (iceapple95) | 41 comments This was awesome fun!
Short Story Galore-yes
1,017 words

A new dawn

Jan 23, 1066

It was absolutely perfect. The view. The sky. The icebergs. The schooner. Everything was just like a dream, all I’d ever wanted. I was finally free from all my emotional ties. From my Norweigian homeland. My family was gone, not a brother, sister, or aunt. Nobody else came for me when they disappeared. It’s silly really, me doing this. Heading out to the sea that just took my family away from me forever. But what choice do I have really. Stay on the island, working the inn under cruel conditions, reliving all its memories… No, I am not going to ruin this moment. I am finally free from it all, off to sea for new land unknown. I never really knew much about the ocean before this, well I still don’t. I’m just an inkeepers daughter after all, was anyway. But no, it doesn’t matter what I’ve been through, now I can make my own destiny. It’s what I always wanted isn’t it? I just didn’t think that this how it would happen.

Sigh. Life has never been easy. It’s always been work, work, work. Abuse, abuse, abuse. And now I’m finally free. I almost didn’t make it. I had to smuggle my way out. Madame Prinns, the innkeeper’s wife, was to send me off to schooling on the morrow. Off to a finishing school and then to be married off to the highest bidder, practically. I can’t believe I ever put up with my life, but what can I say, family… And now I’m-

“Meg! I need help with this batter! And then fluff the beds will you? Meg!” Well, I traded one hell for another I suppose. I guess I should say, I’ll soon be free from everything. I’ve been on the sea for months now, we must land sometime. But I mean what do you expect? I couldn’t just get away for nothing, no I’m a slave to Mz. Jillian. Well a servant, but there’s not much of a difference. I do her will and I get off this ship alive and in one piece. These merchants are not too cruel but they are practical. I only got on because the Captain’s wife was on board and her maid took ill. And this journal is my only safe haven from insanity. I really should be helping but I am so tired and-“Meg! I said now! It’s not lady-like to shout!” Of course it isn’t. I have to go but don’t worry I’ll be back at nightfall. Oh dear, now I’m talking to you like you’re a person, ahh the madness. “MEG!” Dear me, farewell for now!

Jan 24, dawn

Oh ahhh, ahh. I’m sorry I’m sooo tired. I worked for hours, when I am free I will be so glad. And also I’ve heard some of the sailors talking about some strange things. Not that they don’t usually do but they seem a little lethal. I have a strange feeling that mutiny might be in the thoughts of some on board. We’ve been out for ages and people are feeling jittery, I sure am. But what with being Mz. Jillian’s maid I may not be safe. I just hope we land soon. Yawn. Oh I have to go see the lady’s duties for today. Write soon.

Jan 25, evening

Hush. That is what is in the air, it is what I keep telling myself. They did it. Took over I mean, they killed the Captain. I’ve been hiding all day. If they caught me they might throw me overboard into the icey water like they did with the Captain’s body. His cold, stiff, lifeless body.The sunset is bloody red just like the Captain’s blood. Shudder. I saw it happen too from under the table and it was awful. The take-over went pretty quickly too. I just cannot, I cannot believe it happen so soon. And now I’m feeling dreary, my head aches, and erg food. I need food. This hollow in my stomach is making me feel crazed. I can barely think, let alone strategize. And I’m just so tired and cramped behind this barrel. My mouth is watering I can smell they’re dinner. Chicken, bread, ale, cheese, apples. Apples, my favorite fruit. I used to eat them at our feasts, my mother would smother them with, ah my mother. I can’t stand it. I feel like crying. My eyes sting. I can barely see and-thud. I hear my own breath intake, an apple. Juicy, red apple rolling across the floor. It was for the horses but… I have to get it, I need to! Yes, I got it. Crunch. Yes, yes. So good. And-NO they found me, I need to, I-

Meg wakes tied up and gagged to the sound of Laughter and Voices. “Do you think she’ll get frostbite where we’re leaving her?” Husky laughter. “Haa, that little creature doesn’t stand a chance. No one ever lives left out here in the Arctic wilderness.” “You’re right, thing should’ve never come aboard this vessel. Now for our real destination, Greenland. I can’t wait for the fresh air and new land.” Sighs and helps himself to more ale. “Yes a fine life indeed.”

Meg can barely move. She starts to cry but then stops. Crying isn’t the answer she tells herself. She must be strong. But the chances of her living are slim. If she doesn’t freeze as they said then some beast or another is bound to get her. All she can do is pray. And hope. But even then she knows it is over. Her life is over, before it even really began Her family is gone, she got on this ship for nothing. She never even fell in love. She had faith but even that seems distant now. She realizes that life doesn’t last forecer and that even though this was a sad end at least she tried for a better life a better world. She gives into tears, and realizes sometimes weakness is shelter. Shelter for her in this desolate world of ice.

The End-to life and will

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