Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion

14 views
Weekly Short Story Contests > Week 437 (December 4-December 10) Stories Topic: Purple

Comments Showing 1-8 of 8 (8 new)    post a comment »
dateDown arrow    newest »

message 1: by C.P., Windrunner (new)

C.P. Cabaniss (cpcabaniss) | 655 comments You have until the 10th of December to post a story and from the 11th to around the 17th of December, 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: Purple

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 Garrison (new)

Garrison Kelly (cybador) | 9321 comments I had a ton of fun writing yesterday's short story, so this week I'll do another one. This is called "No Pain, No Reign" and it goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

1. Ivan Keith, Human Cowboy
2. Dollhouse, Hag Witch

PROMPT CONFORMITY: Dollhouse has purple skin.

SYNOPSIS: Sheriff Ivan Keith finds himself strapped to an elaborate torture device at the hands of Dollhouse, who keeps asking for justice for her daughter’s murder. Ivan confesses that he knows nothing about the witch’s dead daughter, which prompts the old bat to torture him continually until he coughs up a solid answer. The only problem is, Ivan genuinely has no answers and therefore is taking this abuse for nothing. Several times during this torture session, Ivan is on the edge of death and Dollhouse is no closer to finding the answers she needs.


message 3: by Michelle (new)

Michelle (trajectory17) Title: Purple Sweet Purple
Author: Michelle

Purple. That's all I see. Purple.

Why is everything purple?

The floor is aligned with purple tiles. The walls have purple wallpaper on them. The curtains are purple with white flowers. The couch is light purple. The table -Thank God!- is actually brown, but it's covered with a tablecloth that matches the curtains.

The chairs are white with purple cloths on the seat. The rug is purple with a few black dots. The welcome mat is purple with a black "WELCOME" on it.

I eyed the whole room. I was searching for anything NOT purple.

I didn't find it.

What made it even stranger was that no women lived here. This was my great uncle Dennis's house.

"So what do you think, squirt?"

It took me a moment to think of an answer for my uncle's question.

"It's... unique."

"Yeah. The purple makes it more of a home for me. Come on! I'll show you your room!"

I followed him down the hall. The hall had the same wallpaper I saw earlier. And the pictures hanging had purple frames around them.

Mom and Dad are letting me spend spring break here?

"Okay, squirt. What do you think?"

I looked around the bedroom. Once again, I found that everything in the room is purple.

"I think it's pretty neat."

"I knew you'd like it, Kevin. Now, go ahead and unpack your things. When you're done, meet me in the kitchen."

I nodded. He gave me a quick wink and left. I set my bag on the purple bed then sat next to it.

I couldn't believe I was gonna stay here for a week.

It's not that I dislike Uncle Dennis. He's a great guy.

It's just that...

Why the purple house?

I started remembering a conversation I had with my dad the day before.

"Kevin, when you first enter the house, it may seem a bit odd."

"Odd? How odd?"

"Your great uncle has a thing for purple stuff. Don't make a big deal about it when you get there. Okay?"

"Okay."

I thought he meant that my great uncle liked purple rugs or had a collection of purple trinkets or something.

I didn't expect this!

I sighed and decided that I'd better unpack.

I quickly did so then found my way to the kitchen. My uncle was chopping some vegetables.

"Hey, squirt! Did you finish unpacking?"

"Yes, Uncle Dennis."

"Good. Now why don't you help me stir that pot over there?"

I went to the purple pot. He put the vegetables in it then allowed me to stir. I wasn't thrilled to find out the vegetables were eggplants.

Purple vegetables.... Of course.

As I was stirring, I tried to think of something to say.

"Uncle Dennis?"

"Yeah, squirt?"

"Is purple your favorite color?"

"Before I always loved green. But nowadays purple seems to be more comfortable for me."

"Oh. Well, I like blue."

"Technically everything here is blue."

I shot a confused look at him.

"Purple is blue mixed with red. So technically everything here is blue with some red in it."

He let out a laugh at his own joke. I laughed back to be polite.

"Dinner should be ready in about ten minutes. Why don't you go set the table? The plates are in the cabinet that has purple flowers painted on."

"Okay."

I went to the dining area. To my disappointment, I found two cabinets with purple flowers painted on.

I opened the first one and found several photo albums.

Curiousity arose. And with that, temptation arose. I took the first one out and opened it to the first page.

"May our love last forever. -Anne"

I knew immediately that this was written by his wife. I always wondered how she died.
I turned to the next page. I found several pictures of Uncle Dennis and his wife. They were all pictures of them holding hands or doing something romantic. One picture caught my eye.

They were smiling right here in the house. And the house wasn't completely purple.

I examined the picture. The windows had the same curtains, and the table had the same tablecloth. Other than that, there was no more purple.

Why the change then?

"I see you found the photo albums, Kevin."

I whirled around to see Uncle Dennis watching me.

"I'm really sorry. I was trying to see if the plates were here. I saw the photo albums, and I got really curious so..."

"Don't sweat it kid. I don't mind. Really, I don't."

"Oh, okay."

He looked at the photo of he and his wife in the house.

"I miss her."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened?"

Uncle Dennis sighed and took the photo album in his hands.

"She was an amazing person. She loved me with all of her heart, and I loved her too. When we found out about her disease, it broke our hearts."

I gulped. I wasn't expecting this.

"It was a kind of brain disease. It slowly prevented her from doing normal body functions like walking. And, eventually, it prevented her from thinking correctly. Your Aunt Anne loved purple. When her mind started going away, she requested that everything in her room would be purple.

"I made everything in her bedroom purple, and she loved it. She asked me to make the whole house purple. So I did."

He sighed. I felt bad for asking him about his wife.

"After she died, I didn't have the heart to change everything back. It sorta feels like a part of her is still here because of the purple. You must think it's silly."

"Oh, no. Of course I don't."

He gave me a sad smile. It finally made sense now. He wasn't weird. He just misses his wife.

"Uncle Dennis, I'm sorry about your wife. I had no idea something like that had happened."

"Don't be sorry, Kevin. It wasn't your fault. In fact, when you first arrived, I noticed your confused look when you stepped into the house. I was afraid you might feel uncomfortable, but you actually acted okay about it. You were so polite. I honestly thought you might complain to your parents about it."

My eyes widen. I did find the house weird, but I didn't plan on making a big deal about it.

Uncle Dennis put his arm around me. "I just wanted to say thanks for not letting it become a big deal to you. Now, let's go eat. You must be starving! You should be glad to know that I also made some egg rolls."

My eyes popped at that. I love egg rolls.

"You bet!"

My uncle laughed at my response. "Then let's eat."

He went to the kitchen to get the food while I went to the other cabinet to get the plates.

While setting the table, I promised myself that I would be someone Uncle Dennis would enjoy being around with. I figured that it was about time for him to have fun.


message 4: by Joy (new)

Joy Crain | 41 comments My Final Investigation
By Joy

I used to be a PI. A private investigator. Many of my friends were surprised when I gave it up. I could make real good money doing what I did, but there was one job I did that changed my reality forever. This is the story of my last investigation and how one person changed my life forever.

Her name was Valerie Monroe. She was supposed to be my mark. My job was to watch her. It was my job to plant bugs, make contact, stalk, and photograph her. It was my job to find out if she was clean.

Her step-father hadn’t been clean. He’d been a “Black.” I say he was a black because I like to categorize people by colors. You can tell a great deal about people by what color their personality reflects. For Hank Thomas. That was black.

Hank had been calm throughout his lengthy trial. Nothing fazed him. His face was always stone cold, even when the jury had pronounced him guilty as charged. He had barely spoken during the whole ordeal of his conviction. I had sensed he was a black even when I was only watching the trial through a computer screen. From the beginning, it was obvious to me that he was guilty.

Hank Thomas had been convicted of secretly siphoning off money from his company into a bank account somewhere in Europe. His partner from the beginning had been crushed at the revelation. With Hank behind bars for twenty years, it all seemed like it would go back to normal. I was wrong.

It wasn’t even a week after Hank Thomas’s conviction when his partner Gregorio Valdes walked into my office with a downcast look on his face. From his stance to his facial expression, even to the way he dressed I could tell instantly he was a “Green”.

Green represented his introverted nature. I could tell he didn’t like talking about what had happened to his company even before he said a word to me. Green also represented curiousness which made me wonder. If the case was closed, why was he even here?

He sat across from my desk and handed me a file. I took it without saying a word and scanned the contents. The picture paper-clipped to the corner of the file was a young woman named Valerie Monroe.

“What do you want me to do with this?” I asked finally, slapping the file on my desk.

Gregorio eyes trained on me. “I’m sure you’re aware of who I am and the recent case involving my ex-partner Hank Thomas.”

“I do.” I replied.

Gregorio pointed to the file. “That’s his step-daughter Valerie. She’s the only family he has left. I had always suspected that Hank didn’t work alone in this. I believe he had a partner.”

“And you suspect that his step-daughter may have had something to do with the money laundering?”

Gregorio shrugged. “They were close.”

I picked up the file again.

Valerie  Monroe.

Age 29.

Occupation: School teacher.

Mother: Celeste Monroe Thomas.

Father: Reginald Monroe.

She was pretty with wavy brown hair and a slim figure. From the angle of the photo, this was taking by an amateur sleuth’s iPhone. She was sitting casually in a park reading a newspaper while licking the drips off an ice cream cone.

"Orange."

She had to be an orange. She looked exactly the opposite of her step-father. She probably had a bubbling personality that all young schoolteachers should possess.

But, I hadn’t done my research yet. She could still be a black just like her step-father. I never knew for sure until I got close to my mark. And now she was marked. By me.

“You want me to see if she’s clean,” I said.

Gregorio nodded.

“I’d hate to think she’s involved but...a man in my position can never be too careful.”

I understood that. Not everyone was what they seemed.

“Can I count on you?” Gregorio asked.

I nodded without any hesitation. I was a “Red” through and through. I was confident, hard-working, and ambitious. This would be like any other case I had worked on.

For the next few weeks I simply followed her, snapping pictures of her in her daily routine. Every morning she woke up at precisely 5 AM to go on a two mile run before preparing for her day. She would leave her house at 6:30 for school.

At recess, she would watch the third and fourth graders on the playground. Once school was over, she would pack up her things and head home for the night. She lived alone and from what  I could tell, she didn’t have much of a social life outside of school. Even on the weekends there was no hanging out with friends and she didn’t have a gentleman caller.

But what I saw intrigued me. She displayed absolutely nothing to suggest she could be involved in her stepfather’s crime. She was a prime example of a “what you see is what you get.” She was an Orange. Oranges weren’t criminals.

After nearly a month of stalking, I decided it was time to make contact. Photos could only tell me so much when it came to this kind of stuff. By now I had her entire routine memorized, so I planned the perfect place to arrange our first point of contact.

I went into the Starbucks she frequently visited twenty minutes before she was expected to arrive. I ordered a coffee and sat at the same table she always sat at. As I sipped my coffee trying to make myself look as inconspicuous as possible, I couldn’t help but glance constantly at my watch.

At exactly 8:15 on a Sunday morning, Valerie walked in, unwrapping her blue and white checkered scarf from her neck. I tried not to stare but found it impossible. My eyes were glued to her like a fly on flypaper.

From all the pictures I had taken of her from afar, I knew she was pretty. But seeing her up close, and in person, it made my stomach twist. I watched her grab her drink and walk toward me. I turned my head just in time not to be seen. She stopped in her tracks and I turned my head trying to fake noticing her for the first time. I was failing.

The corners of her mouth frowned and I sensed that it was time for my formal introduction.

“Excuse me,” I said, pulling on my most charming smile. “Can I help you?”

 Valerie shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s just. I normally sit here.”

“Oh.” My smile grew. “Well, why don’t you join me?” I motioned for her to sit in the seat opposite me. She turned her head to glance around the Starbucks before nodding. I stood as she took her seat because that’s just what a gentleman does.

“Thank you,” she said.

I grinned. “Not a problem.” I extended my hand across the table. “I’m Paul by the way.”

She shook it. “Valerie. Nice to meet you, Paul.”

There was something about the way my name came from her mouth that made butterflies flutter in my stomach. “You come here often?” I asked.

She nodded. “Almost every day. Can’t start any day without a good cup of coffee.”

“I agree. I practically live on the stuff.” I lifted the styrofoam cup in salute. “So what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a school teacher. And you?”

“I’m in...research.” Why was it so hard to lie to her?

“Oh, what kind of research?”

“Boring stuff, really,” I replied. “What’s a life of a school teacher like?”

She flipped a stray piece of hair behind her head. “Kids keep me on my toes, you know.”

Our conversation continued well into the day. At lunchtime we parted ways, but not before first exchanging phone numbers.

That night I reported in with Gregorio that I had made contact with my mark and that nothing I learned suggests that she had anything to do with the extortion of his company. He didn’t seem so convinced so I agreed on doing more research.

That Saturday I “accidentally” ran into her at the store. Her eyes widened when she saw me but her lips curled up into a smile.

“Hello, Paul.”

“Well, this is unexpected,” I responded with a forced laugh. “I’ve been meaning to call you but work’s got me all tied in knots.”

“No need to apologize, I understand completely. Sometimes these things can’t be helped.”

We ended up shopping together. Comparing prices together of canned goods was somehow fun when I was around Valerie. Once we were out of the store, I helped her put her groceries in her car.

When she said “thank you,” my heart did a flip and started rapping against my ribcage.  Valerie Monroe definitely had an effect on me. I swallowed hard when she pulled out of her parking place and waved at me. I waved back then just stood there like an idiot. I stood there for a good five minutes before snapping out of whatever spell she had cast on me.

I waited three days before calling her. It took everything in me to ask her out on a date. This would be the first time I had ever been forced to ask a girl out on a date just for research, but something in the pit of my stomach wanted it all to be real. I wanted to ask her on a real date to get to know her more.

When she said yes, I could feel my lungs dispel all their air in relief. We met for dinner the next night at a small Italian place near the Starbucks where we first met.

When I saw her, my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. She was wearing a modest lavender dress that was most becoming. I tugged on my tie to loosen it. Was it getting hot in here or was it just me?

“Are you okay?”

Her voice snapped me back into reality.

“Uh, yeah, just.”

She offered me smile. “I’m nervous too,” she admitted.

I was so surprised at how open she was being with me when we finally sat down and ordered our meal. As she began talking about her life, I finally felt myself relaxing. My head was screaming at me not to get too attached with Valerie. She wasn’t a potential girlfriend. She was a mark. Too bad my heart didn’t know that.

I didn’t kiss her after our date. I didn’t think that it would be proper if I forced it on her and she seemed fine with that. I did, however, walk her home and she allowed me to open the door for her. I did that every single time we went out on a date. Twice a week for a month to be exact.

After two months into my investigation, I called up Gregorio.

“Paul,” he greeted. “How’s the—”

“She’s clean.”

Gregorio remained quiet for exactly fifteen seconds. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be saying anything if I wasn’t sure. She’s clean.”

Gregorio sighed. “Fine. I’ll send you your final check.”

After getting off the phone with him, I went to work collecting all the data I had gathered on Valerie Monroe. I put everything into a file, and then I set it on fire. I ended up not taking the money.

The next time I saw Valerie, I announced that I had quit my job. The look on her face was priceless.

“Now what are you going to do?”

I put my arm across her shoulders. “I have no idea.”

I smiled down at her. She wasn’t an Orange after all. The dress she had worn on our first date had summed her up perfectly. She had a compassionate and sensitive soul.

She was a “Lavender.”


message 5: by Joy (new)

Joy Crain | 41 comments My Final Investigation
By Joy

I used to be a PI. A private investigator. Many of my friends were surprised when I gave it up. I could make real good money doing what I did, but there was one job I did that changed my reality forever. This is the story of my last investigation and how one person changed my life forever.

Her name was Valerie Monroe. She was supposed to be my mark. My job was to watch her. It was my job to plant bugs, make contact, stalk, and photograph her. It was my job to find out if she was clean.

Her step-father hadn’t been clean. He’d been a “Black.” I say he was a black because I like to categorize people by colors. You can tell a great deal about people by what color their personality reflects. For Hank Thomas. That was black.

Hank had been calm throughout his lengthy trial. Nothing fazed him. His face was always stone cold, even when the jury had pronounced him guilty as charged. He had barely spoken during the whole ordeal of his conviction. I had sensed he was a black even when I was only watching the trial through a computer screen. From the beginning, it was obvious to me that he was guilty.

Hank Thomas had been convicted of secretly siphoning off money from his company into a bank account somewhere in Europe. His partner from the beginning had been crushed at the revelation. With Hank behind bars for twenty years, it all seemed like it would go back to normal. I was wrong.

It wasn’t even a week after Hank Thomas’s conviction when his partner Gregorio Valdes walked into my office with a downcast look on his face. From his stance to his facial expression, even to the way he dressed I could tell instantly he was a “Green”.

Green represented his introverted nature. I could tell he didn’t like talking about what had happened to his company even before he said a word to me. Green also represented curiousness which made me wonder. If the case was closed, why was he even here?

He sat across from my desk and handed me a file. I took it without saying a word and scanned the contents. The picture paper-clipped to the corner of the file was a young woman named Valerie Monroe.

“What do you want me to do with this?” I asked finally, slapping the file on my desk.

Gregorio eyes trained on me. “I’m sure you’re aware of who I am and the recent case involving my ex-partner Hank Thomas.”

“I do.” I replied.

Gregorio pointed to the file. “That’s his step-daughter Valerie. She’s the only family he has left. I had always suspected that Hank didn’t work alone in this. I believe he had a partner.”

“And you suspect that his step-daughter may have had something to do with the money laundering?”

Gregorio shrugged. “They were close.”

I picked up the file again.

Valerie  Monroe.

Age 29.

Occupation: School teacher.

Mother: Celeste Monroe Thomas.

Father: Reginald Monroe.

She was pretty with wavy brown hair and a slim figure. From the angle of the photo, this was taking by an amateur sleuth’s iPhone. She was sitting casually in a park reading a newspaper while licking the drips off an ice cream cone.

"Orange."

She had to be an orange. She looked exactly the opposite of her step-father. She probably had a bubbling personality that all young schoolteachers should possess.

But, I hadn’t done my research yet. She could still be a black just like her step-father. I never knew for sure until I got close to my mark. And now she was marked. By me.

“You want me to see if she’s clean,” I said.

Gregorio nodded.

“I’d hate to think she’s involved but...a man in my position can never be too careful.”

I understood that. Not everyone was what they seemed.

“Can I count on you?” Gregorio asked.

I nodded without any hesitation. I was a “Red” through and through. I was confident, hard-working, and ambitious. This would be like any other case I had worked on.

For the next few weeks I simply followed her, snapping pictures of her in her daily routine. Every morning she woke up at precisely 5 AM to go on a two mile run before preparing for her day. She would leave her house at 6:30 for school.

At recess, she would watch the third and fourth graders on the playground. Once school was over, she would pack up her things and head home for the night. She lived alone and from what  I could tell, she didn’t have much of a social life outside of school. Even on the weekends there was no hanging out with friends and she didn’t have a gentleman caller.

But what I saw intrigued me. She displayed absolutely nothing to suggest she could be involved in her stepfather’s crime. She was a prime example of a “what you see is what you get.” She was an Orange. Oranges weren’t criminals.

After nearly a month of stalking, I decided it was time to make contact. Photos could only tell me so much when it came to this kind of stuff. By now I had her entire routine memorized, so I planned the perfect place to arrange our first point of contact.

I went into the Starbucks she frequently visited twenty minutes before she was expected to arrive. I ordered a coffee and sat at the same table she always sat at. As I sipped my coffee trying to make myself look as inconspicuous as possible, I couldn’t help but glance constantly at my watch.

At exactly 8:15 on a Sunday morning, Valerie walked in, unwrapping her blue and white checkered scarf from her neck. I tried not to stare but found it impossible. My eyes were glued to her like a fly on flypaper.

From all the pictures I had taken of her from afar, I knew she was pretty. But seeing her up close, and in person, it made my stomach twist. I watched her grab her drink and walk toward me. I turned my head just in time not to be seen. She stopped in her tracks and I turned my head trying to fake noticing her for the first time. I was failing.

The corners of her mouth frowned and I sensed that it was time for my formal introduction.

“Excuse me,” I said, pulling on my most charming smile. “Can I help you?”

 Valerie shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s just. I normally sit here.”

“Oh.” My smile grew. “Well, why don’t you join me?” I motioned for her to sit in the seat opposite me. She turned her head to glance around the Starbucks before nodding. I stood as she took her seat because that’s just what a gentleman does.

“Thank you,” she said.

I grinned. “Not a problem.” I extended my hand across the table. “I’m Paul by the way.”

She shook it. “Valerie. Nice to meet you, Paul.”

There was something about the way my name came from her mouth that made butterflies flutter in my stomach. “You come here often?” I asked.

She nodded. “Almost every day. Can’t start any day without a good cup of coffee.”

“I agree. I practically live on the stuff.” I lifted the styrofoam cup in salute. “So what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a school teacher. And you?”

“I’m in...research.” Why was it so hard to lie to her?

“Oh, what kind of research?”

“Boring stuff, really,” I replied. “What’s a life of a school teacher like?”

She flipped a stray piece of hair behind her head. “Kids keep me on my toes, you know.”

Our conversation continued well into the day. At lunchtime we parted ways, but not before first exchanging phone numbers.

That night I reported in with Gregorio that I had made contact with my mark and that nothing I learned suggests that she had anything to do with the extortion of his company. He didn’t seem so convinced so I agreed on doing more research.

That Saturday I “accidentally” ran into her at the store. Her eyes widened when she saw me but her lips curled up into a smile.

“Hello, Paul.”

“Well, this is unexpected,” I responded with a forced laugh. “I’ve been meaning to call you but work’s got me all tied in knots.”

“No need to apologize, I understand completely. Sometimes these things can’t be helped.”

We ended up shopping together. Comparing prices together of canned goods was somehow fun when I was around Valerie. Once we were out of the store, I helped her put her groceries in her car.

When she said “thank you,” my heart did a flip and started rapping against my ribcage.  Valerie Monroe definitely had an effect on me. I swallowed hard when she pulled out of her parking place and waved at me. I waved back then just stood there like an idiot. I stood there for a good five minutes before snapping out of whatever spell she had cast on me.

I waited three days before calling her. It took everything in me to ask her out on a date. This would be the first time I had ever been forced to ask a girl out on a date just for research, but something in the pit of my stomach wanted it all to be real. I wanted to ask her on a real date to get to know her more.

When she said yes, I could feel my lungs dispel all their air in relief. We met for dinner the next night at a small Italian place near the Starbucks where we first met.

When I saw her, my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. She was wearing a modest lavender dress that was most becoming. I tugged on my tie to loosen it. Was it getting hot in here or was it just me?

“Are you okay?”

Her voice snapped me back into reality.

“Uh, yeah, just.”

She offered me smile. “I’m nervous too,” she admitted.

I was so surprised at how open she was being with me when we finally sat down and ordered our meal. As she began talking about her life, I finally felt myself relaxing. My head was screaming at me not to get too attached with Valerie. She wasn’t a potential girlfriend. She was a mark. Too bad my heart didn’t know that.

I didn’t kiss her after our date. I didn’t think that it would be proper if I forced it on her and she seemed fine with that. I did, however, walk her home and she allowed me to open the door for her. I did that every single time we went out on a date. Twice a week for a month to be exact.

After two months into my investigation, I called up Gregorio.

“Paul,” he greeted. “How’s the—”

“She’s clean.”

Gregorio remained quiet for exactly fifteen seconds. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be saying anything if I wasn’t sure. She’s clean.”

Gregorio sighed. “Fine. I’ll send you your final check.”

After getting off the phone with him, I went to work collecting all the data I had gathered on Valerie Monroe. I put everything into a file, and then I set it on fire. I ended up not taking the money.

The next time I saw Valerie, I announced that I had quit my job. The look on her face was priceless.

“Now what are you going to do?”

I put my arm across her shoulders. “I have no idea.”

I smiled down at her. She wasn’t an Orange after all. The dress she had worn on our first date had summed her up perfectly. She had a compassionate and sensitive soul.

She was a “Lavender.”


message 6: by Edward (last edited Dec 10, 2018 12:30PM) (new)

Edward Davies | 1727 comments This is the final part of my Helen Singer story, tentatively titled 'Scissors, Piper, Stone'. It would be awesome / heart-breaking to hear some honest opinions from anyone who has been following this since I began it back in December last year. This is an incredibly rough draft and I know it needs tweaking, but your thoughts would be great.

Title : Conclusion Allusion (Helen Singer, Chapter 30, Part Two) The Final Chapter
Author : Edward Davies
Word Count : 741
Rating : PG13


Thursday and Friday were pretty much run of the mill for the pair of us. I only saw Fran infrequently on those days, the rest of my time was spent writing up what had happened to us for Fran’s website.

That’s what you’re reading right now.

I was going to finish this account with us at the library, trying to burn the book, but there was a little more to the tale than that. I mean, you do all want to know what happened to the cursed people, don’t you?

Basil Iskander was let off with a warning after his charge of indecent exposure. I mean, it was hardly his fault, and my mum managed to put in a good word for him. Piper Reynardine, on the other hand, managed to avoid being charged with kidnapping, but my mum was forced to let her go from her job on the police force. She’d have had to explain too much to her superiors otherwise, so Piper had to take the fall. She was allowed to resign, but people in town new what had happened anyway, so it didn’t look like it was going to make any difference to her future employment. At least she hadn’t gone to jail, and Polly still had her mum in her life.

On Saturday I went around to Mandy’s house. She changed her hair colour again – it now had purple rather than orange streaks, but it still looked good. I explained in a roundabout way why I’d had to leave earlier in the week. I think she understood, but I didn’t tell her too much about the curse and how it had also affected me. Maybe I’d tell her a little later on, when we knew each other a little better. She invited me to join her roller derby team, and there were going to be try-outs next weekend, so I said I’d think about it. I wasn’t guaranteed a place on the team, Mandy had explained, seeing as she wasn’t in charge, but my chances were good. I might even try to persuade Fran to join up too, though that probably wouldn’t happen, considering she’d refused on more than one occasion.

I got a phone call from Carmen on Sunday morning, who I hadn’t thought about in a while. It felt weird chatting to her again, but we soon fell into our old routine and part of me was really looking forward to seeing her. And Christmas was only a few months away.
It was Saturday evening when I got a phone call from Fran. My mum and dad were out for date night, or whatever they wanted to call it, and Ladon was in his room playing video games. I’d been relaxing in front of the TV, watching some straight to video movie that was showing on some random channel. I turned the volume down, picking up the phone.

“Hey Fran,” I said, “how are you enjoying the peaceful life?”

“I was,” Fran said, and I sat up in my seat.

“What is it?” I asked. “What’s happened?”

“I don’t know if it’s anything,” Fran said nervously, “can we meet up?”

I closed my eyes, “Please don’t tell me it’s another cursed person,” I said, holding my breath as I awaited the response.

“It might be nothing,” Fran said, clearly thinking she was sounding reassuring when in fact she was making me incredibly anxious, “it’s just, I think I might have seen something at the fish and chip shop.”

“Was it a fish?” I asked, “Or perhaps a chip?”

Fran was silent, but I could tell she was shaking her head, “Can you just come over here? I think it might be another cursed person.”

“Give me ten minutes,” I sighed, hanging up the phone. I rubbed my temples, thinking how nice it had been not having to deal with monsters or creatures from fairy tales for the last day or so. But I had a responsibility now, and the power I possessed hadn’t faded away like Basil’s and Piper’s. It was looking more and more like me abilities were a permanent thing, and as such I had to use that power to stop the curse. I threw on my coat, pulled my slouchy hat on over my still dyed hair, and left Ladon alone in the house, heading over to the fish and chip shop to find out what new adventure lay in wait.

THE END


message 7: by Garrison (new)

Garrison Kelly (cybador) | 9321 comments Sorry guys, but it looks like I won't be competing in the Purple contest this week. I'll have to save "No Pain, No Reign" for the next one. I was planning on writing today, but I couldn't get out of the blocks when it came to my chronic tiredness. As many of you already know, this has been a barrier for a long time now and I haven't seen much improvement in that department. Again, sorry for tapping out this week, but it is what it is.


message 8: by C.P., Windrunner (new)

C.P. Cabaniss (cpcabaniss) | 655 comments Hope you're feeling some better today, Garrison!


back to top