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Weekly Short Story Contests > Week 423 (August 23-29) Stories Topic: You'll Live

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message 1: by C. J., Cool yet firm like ice (new)

C. J. Scurria (goodreadscomcj_scurria) | 4304 comments You have until the 29th of August to post a story and from the 30th to around the 4th of September, we’ll vote for which one we thought was best!

Please post directly into the topic and not a link. Please don’t use a story previously used in this group. Only one submission per person is allowed.

Your story should be between 300 and 3,500 words long.

REMEMBER! A short story is not merely a scene. It must have a beginning, a middle, and an end.

This week’s topic is: You'll Live

The rules are pretty loose. You could write a story about anything that has to do with the subject/photo but it must relate to the topic somehow.

Most of all have fun!

message 2: by Edward (new)

Edward Davies | 1727 comments Title : Revelation Devastation (Helen Singer, Chapter 24, Part One)
Author : Edward Davies
Word Count : 1023
Rating : PG13

It was only a little before lunch when I finished with my dad’s accounts. It wasn’t so difficult – he’d just made a mistake about some of the owed money and hadn’t taken into account some of the payments that hadn’t been entered into the system since Ms Griffin’s death.

Pretty boring, I know.

“All done,” I called out to my dad who was manning the main desk.

“That was fast,” my dad said, “so, what’s the damage?”

“Nothing at all,” I told him, “you missed the fact that there were payments that hadn’t been applied yet.”

“Well, that’s good news for the council,” my dad smiled, “it’s not like the money would have come out of my pocket.”

“True,” I agreed, shuffling my feet, “so, can I go now?”

My dad sighed, “Go on then,” he said, “but I want you back here by four o’clock so we can go home together. We don’t need to worry your mother any more than necessary. She’s got enough on her hands trying to help find these missing children.”

“One of which is your son, don’t forget,” I added, “and believe me, I haven’t forgotten that my brother is missing.”

“He’ll show up,” dad said, “your mother has Hamelin helping her by trying to retrace his steps over the last few nights.”

I doubted that he’d be able to remember anything, but whatever he could would be some help, I guessed.

That did raise a question in my mind; if Hamelin could remember what he was doing, why couldn’t other cursed people? Did he understand what we were asking of him? What we thought he’d done? Somehow I didn’t think he did grasp entirely what had happened and was just a little excited about being a part of the village’s legendary curse.

I grabbed my coat, my hat, and my bag and looked at the address that Mandy had written on my hand. It wasn’t far from the library so I didn’t bother actually putting my coat on, instead throwing it over my arm. I did put on my hat though – I didn’t really like the looks I got from certain people, so I’d decided to try to keep it covered up. I marched with a purpose out of the library and headed to Mandy’s house.

When I arrived there, I was greeted at the door by Mandy’s mum. At least I assumed it was her mum; she didn’t really look that much like her.

“Delighted to meet you,” she said, welcoming me into the house and taking my coat from me. I held onto my bag, “so, how do you know Amandeep?”

“We met at the library,” I told her, “I’m starting at the same college when term begins.”

“That’s wonderful,” her mum said. She was a little overenthusiastic with things, and I’m still not sure quite why.

Mandy trotted down the stairs as her mum continued to talk to me. I don’t really remember what her mum said, other than something about how important it was for young girls to have an education these days.

“Hey there,” Mandy smiled as usual, “I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

“I almost didn’t,” I told her. “my dad had me cooking the books at the library.”

“Not literally, I hope.” Mandy chuckled.

“Don’t be silly,” I laughed. I was really starting to like Mandy. A lot. She was so… nice.

“So, shall we adjourn to the boudoir?” Mandy said in a mock seductive voice, then added in her normal voice, “you know, to do your hair.”

“Sure,” I said nervously, and followed her up the stairs.

I loved her room. It was filled with all sorts of books, a lot of them Japanese Manga, and the colours of the walls were warm and inviting. Mandy sat down on her bed, patting a free area next to her. I sat down, folding my hands into my lap, and continuing to look around the room.

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” I told her, sounding a bit stupid to my mind, “I’ve got lots of books, too.”

“I’m not surprised,” Mandy said, “what with your dad working in a library and all.”

“True,” I said, “so, what do you think?”

Mandy raised her eyebrows at me, “About what?” she asked.

I took off my hat, “My hair,” I said, “do you think you can fix it?”

Mandy stood up from the bed, “Not a problem,” she said, “follow me.”

I followed Mandy to the bathroom, where she had all manner of hair products piled around the room. There were shampoos, conditioners, and dyes; scissors, trimmers, razors, and hair dryers. It was like a self-contained hair dressers all neatly tucked away in the smallest room of the house.

“This is pretty cool,” I said, looking around. There was even a small swivel chair tucked in one corner. Mandy gestured towards it.

“Take a seat,” she said. I did as she asked.

Mandy produced a large cape which she threw under my chin and pinned at the back. I chuckled to myself, thinking that with my new-found super powers I should probably have the cape on the other way round.

“Now, I’m going to try and fix these split ends first of all,” Mandy told me, “this really doesn’t look like it was that much of a professional job.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’d done it myself.

As she began to trim, her mum came in carrying a tray of food.

“I’m sure you two haven’t had any lunch yet,” she said, setting the tray down on top of the closed toilet seat, “please, make sure you eat something.”

“Thank you,” I said to her, reaching out from under my cape and picking up a quarter-cut sandwich. It wasn’t easy trying to eat it with the cape on, but I managed.

Mandy continued snipping around my ears, and I tried to relax, but at one point I felt the edge of the scissor blade touching my earlobe.

“Ouch,” I said, “be careful.”

“You’ll live,” Mandy said calmly, carrying on with my haircut.

message 3: by C. J., Cool yet firm like ice (last edited Aug 29, 2018 12:07PM) (new)

C. J. Scurria (goodreadscomcj_scurria) | 4304 comments Title: My Mom's Phrase
Author: CJ
Length: 415 words
Genre: Non-fiction/"memoir"

You’ll Live

Those were two words that seemed ever-present in my childhood. I think because my mom had four boys including I she thought saying it would toughen us up. It may have worked for some of us but it didn’t on me.

I admit I was a very sensitive one even in my depressed-ridden early teen years. Someone saying that if I ever got hurt or had some harm happen made me think the person didn’t care, maybe also about my well-being too.

But that’s the kind of thing that happened. If I should ever get a scrape, I would apparently live through it. I would get any injury that was rare for me (except for the biggies like when I broke my wrists, either one over the course of two years!) and I would go searching, yearning for some kind of compassion and I’d get “You’ll Live.”

Maybe I’m exaggerating but I could imagine going out exploring and finding adventure. I’d travel far and wide on a mountain bike hitting off-road terrain and then slipping on an uneasy patch of dirt, sending my front wheel to dart back and forth. I’d try it with all my might not to fall but it gets worse as I would careen off course, tumbling down a small but deep cavern deep in the earth of mother nature.

I’d nearly die from my wounds powerless to the elements when just by chance emergency workers come to my aid. They would send down rope, a rescuer frees me not before tending to my wounds and taking my broken leg and slipping a splint onto it and I float up like an earthling going up to being taken to the “alien” vehicle, an ambulance that I know is familiar but is foreign to me, especially the interior with all its gadgets on the walls that they would probably probe me with.

Et cetera. Anyway I’m done now with the abduction scenario.

I’d be in the hospital going in and out of consciousness for three days when my mom comes in through the door.

She walks up to me and says, “Hi. I’m just visiting.”

Happy to see my only visitor at least with a clear head I give a sleepy smile, then I say, “You don’t know what I’ve just been through!”

“Yeah but, you’ll live.”

Then I would have rolled my eyes, the nurses would rush in to my aid thinking I was going into shock...

message 4: by Garrison (new)

Garrison Kelly (cybador) | 9608 comments AUTHOR: Garrison Kelly
TITLE: Evanescence Concert
GENRE: Blog Entry
RATING: PG-13 for swearing


It’s been a rough last few days here at the Haines-Temons-Stevens-Wilson household. A shouting match broke out, tears rolled down, and my mom couldn’t go to bed without a shoulder massage from yours truly. I’m not ready to give the details just yet, so please respect my family’s privacy. All I want to say for now is that I’m looking forward to seeing Evanescence perform at the White River Amphitheater on September 7th. Amy Lee’s beautiful voice is certainly a comfort to anybody with a broken heart.

Truth is, I didn’t buy Evanescence’s three studio albums until earlier this year. The only song of theirs I had on my computer was the album version of “My Immortal”. That song got me through a lot of rough shit over the years whether it was a pet’s death, a hot argument, or just being lonely in my room. My mom got me their symphonic album Synthesis for Christmas in 2017 and I have reason to believe Evanescence’s concert in September will be symphonic as well. I’m strangely okay with there being no mosh pits or wild behavior at this concert. Symphonic music is comforting in its own right, so I’m destined to have a good time.

Accompanying the band onstage will be a violinist by the name of Lindsay Stirling. I’ve never listened to her music before, but judging from what I’ve researched, she specializes in electronic pop and some of her own symphonic music. Even though I don’t listen to this kind of music on a regular basis, I’m also strangely okay with Miss Stirling being an opener for Evanescence. I remember getting some head-bobbing enjoyment out of Grabbitz (electronic pop DJ) at the Starset concert back in February, so this will be no different.

At the end of the day, it’s all about having fun and being in the moment. This concert will be the perfect way to soothe my worries and get me back on the right track. The 7th of September also happens to be the due date for editing Savage Beatings as well as the day after my biological father’s 68th birthday. Spoiler alert: I’ve finished round two of editing several days ahead of schedule. I’m counting on there being a round three and beyond, but that’s neither here nor there. Marie told me I needed more details, so hopefully I’ve done that. I’ll be rocking out in her honor since she too loves Evanescence and Lindsay Stirling. Hell, I’d take her with me if we lived in the same city.

But now that we’re on the topic of creative work, the elephant in the room, of course, is the lack of activity in the Incelbordination department. Yes, I’ve been busy prettying up Savage Beatings (there’s a sentence I never thought I’d say), but the WSS still needs their weekly dose of Garrisonian magic (okay, that sounded self-indulgent). I’ll find the time to work on my WIP novel eventually. Hell, it’s not about “finding time”. It’s about doing the fucking thing.

In addition to fucking around with Incelbordination, I still have to rewrite the chapter-by-chapter blueprints for Beautiful Monster. After the radical changes Marie suggested, I’ve decided to rewrite the entire novel from the ground up. Tarja Rikkinen needs to be likeable, the villains need purposes other than just being evil, Windham Xavier needs to be distinguishable from other characters, and elves in general need to be distinguishable from their human counterparts. There are plenty of other problems that need addressing, but I won’t list them all in this blog. I have the new novel planned up until the point where Kody Savage force-feeds Windham a bunch of medicinal leaves and renders him unconscious. Medicinal leaves make more sense than psychedelic mushrooms. The question is, after Kody binds and gags Windham and takes him back to home base…what happens then?

August was a hell of a month, but September is yet another mountain to be climbed, both professionally and personally. But just like with other obstacles in my life, I will not only survive, but I will conquer with a scorched earth policy. Positivity isn’t about pretending everything’s okay. It’s about believing in your own abilities to improve your situation in life. I can do this. We all can do this. I’m Garrison Kelly! Even when you feel like dying, keep climbing the mountain!


“I’m so tired of being here. Suppressed by all my childish fears. And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave. ‘Cause your presence still lingers here and it won’t leave me alone. These wounds won’t seem to heal. This pain is just too real. There’s just too much that time cannot erase. When you cried, I’d wipe away all of your tears. When you screamed, I’d fight away all of your fears. And I held your hand all these years, but you still have all of me. You used to captivate me by your resonating light. Now I’m bound by the life you left behind. Your face, it haunts my once pleasant dreams. Your voice, it chased away all the sanity in me. I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that you’re gone. But though you’re still with me, I’ve been alone all along.”

-Evanescence singing “My Immortal”-

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