June 23, 2012 - Second Contest

[Grace, Head Moderator]

For our second contest, I want you to write a fictional story based on the picture below. Don't think of the picture as a rubric though... let it inspire you. And think out of the box, if you want.



Rules:

1. It must be at least 300 words (anything less will be deleted and disqualified from the contest) but please don't give us a whole novel.

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.

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!

[[deleted user]]

Oasis
991 words

Bombs blasted to torturous life all around me. Smoke billowed from the disaster, suffocating all in its way. Threatening to swallow me up were colossal flames. I was trapped in a whirlwind of panic, dizzied by the screams and wails of my fellow villagers and horrified by the fires that danced ominously closer to my body.

Overhead, attacker planes dropped more explosives. Gunshots ate up all the noises but the bursting bombs and the shrieks.

These enemies destroying my town were humans. And those in my town—we were fairies.

Us fairies have lived on the planet for ages. No, not as long as the humans, but for a good few hundred years. We live in tribes, all over the planet, but more commonly in Europe. That’s where my tribe lived, until recently. We resided in a forest within Ireland until two years ago, when it was obliterated in order to create more homes for the humans. We could have gone somewhere else in Ireland, but our tribe leader, the daft little man, said we needed a change. So we came here, took to the sky and journeyed over the ocean to this forest in Wisconsin, the United States. It truly is the best place we could live. Though it was a wild decision to venture here, I grew to love it. Home, my happy Wisconsin wood.

And was it ever a change. Little did our leader know that fairies were despised here. These American people did simply not tolerate them. Too mischievous, too much trouble in their eyes. We were told to leave. We didn’t. Our tribe hadn’t done a thing to the humans, as we’d argued. They didn’t care. They told us to leave again. And again, we didn’t.

Then, alas, they decided to force us out. They came to the forest, weapons ready. We didn't stand a chance.

That is what was going on now.

I clapped my hands over my pointed ears and squinted my eyes shut to block out another explosion. This was too much. Fairies were dying in the village, not too far away from me, and I had not the ability to rescue them.

Where was my sister, Iris? Where were mother and father? Where was my best friend, Hazel?

Where was I?

I cracked open my light grey eyes and searched, ignoring the pain in the veins of my singed wing as best I could. There was a ring of fire encircling me. I was in a field of sorts, alone. There were no trees near. How was I going to get out? I couldn’t fly. I couldn’t run. I couldn't hide.

A bullet grazed my head, picking up curls of indigo hair and flinging them forward. Adrenaline pulsed through my body. Escape, Lotus, I told myself. Get out of here now.

I picked my way through the debris, hesitantly removing my hands from my ears. It hurt to beat my wings. The frost on the grass was melting in the heat of the flames.

Another bullet barely missed my nose, planting itself in the ground between my numbing feet. My heart excelled in speed. I suddenly felt targeted, eyes burning holes in my back. From above, they were going to shoot again.

I took a few steps back, counted to three, and ran. I sprung. I flapped my wings violently. Ouch. It was agonizing.

I was able to bring myself over the fire, erratic, but far enough that I only charred the ends of some of my long hair. I alighted on the wintry ground, and didn’t look back. I ran.

And ran.

And ran.

The noises were fading behind me. The hungry eyes were no longer on my back. I knew where I was going. I knew where I could hide.

And then I tripped.

I stumbled over my cloak and hit the ground, hard, on my face. Snow gave a burning sensation to my cheeks that was nowhere near the same as the fire.

I lifted my eyes and examined the setting, drinking in every detail as fast as possible. I was out of the clearing, but not the trees around it.

I heaved myself upright and continued. I didn’t dare stop until I reached the Oasis.

The atmosphere here was so much different. The Oasis—the place where our tribe held meetings or went to meditate, on the exact edge of our miniscule territory. There were boulders that guarded the trunk of a single, skinny tree that swooped elegantly over the semi-frozen river on the left. Frost, twinkling in the daylight, was dusted over the ground and rocks.

I blanketed myself in shadows and watched the skies for danger. A single boat sat, lonely, next to the Oasis tree. But that’s not what I went for. Instead, I darted to the boulders and slithered under one, escaping to a hard and icy hideout.

My translucent wings crumpled into my back to allow myself more room. I felt teardrops flood from their tips as it hit me. I was alone. The tribe would be all killed soon. It would be a miracle if anyone else got away. How lucky I had been to be going for a walk near the Oasis when the humans had come. If I’d been in the village, right now I’d be dead.

Mother and father and Iris were in the village. So were Hazel and her family, and the boy I favoured, Riverr. They were gone. I knew it.

I crumpled myself into a ball, the left half of me pressed to the boulder and the right squashed into the dirt. The tears poured fluidly from my wings, and I pressed my hands to my face to block out the fractions of sunrays that still found their way in here. I moaned. Now I had no one, nowhere but the Oasis and nothing but the boat. Though I was the only one alive, I too was destroyed.

[Katie]

The Uncommon Sorrow of Fog
Words: 655

There are four things you should know about me.
My three brothers were born dead.
The soundtrack to my childhood was the rocking of my mother’s chair in the nursery that she couldn’t bear to get rid of.
When I turned ten, the money ran out. Our cabin was tucked to the side of Lake Memora, perpetually covered in the thick fog of my birth, so we escaped notice. For a little while.
By the time we were remembered—the cold fall I became sixteen—my father was dead and my mother was sick with grief. The grief of the dead infant, and of the failed mother.

Three. The man held his fingers in front of my eyes. I turned away, glancing at Mom. She rocked on. Her grief was the unique grief of the ocean, as though the tides themselves manifested their melancholy in her movements.
Turning back, my heart was in my eyes. Begging the tax collector to understand, but he just glanced at my red-fleece button-up and shook his head.
Three days. And then, like a retreating tide, we would be gone.

That night, I woke up to the sound of splashing. I pulled my heavy boots over my sweatpants, gathered a thick jacket from my bed, and went outside.
My mother waded waist-deep in water. Her naked skin fractured and tore in the moonlit fog. There were no stars.
“What are you doing?” I knelt down in the soggy dirt at Lake Memora’s edge. Mom turned her head, as if she were an animal. Listening. Considering.
“I’m sorry I’ve failed you,” she told me finally. Her voice was the fog.
You haven’t failed me. I wanted so badly for it to be true. Or at least for the lie not to stick in my mouth.
The red fleece I wore when the tax collector came was still draped around my emaciated body. Concealing the hunger we felt. Hiding evidence of desperation. If anyone had ever failed me, it was my mother.
A soft splash—that of a fish—brought my thoughts back. Mom moved deeper into the still of Lake Memora. Now she was covered up to her waist. The line of her spine was tattooed with deprivation.
“Not now. Not yet,” I whispered, not sure that the still fog carried my faint breath.
Mom shook her head, her limp locks hardly moving. “Now is a good time,” she told me.
“What about it is a good time?” I asked, my words careful. Calculated.
Tired of standing still, I moved into the lake, up to the ankles of my rubber boots. A sudden movement of angry air revealed the sorrowing silhouette of Tree Memora. Years ago, an innocent man was hanged there, giving both lake and tree their names. According to legend, his feet scrambled at the surface of the uncaring lake before he died, and a curse was put over the area. This curse allowed my tiny family to live on the shore mostly undisturbed and rarely happy.
My stomach growled with the appearance of a curious minnow near my foot.
“They’ll take you to foster care.” Mom moved a little deeper. “And you’ll have food.”
“I’m willing to take care of us,” I responded, my voice desperate.
“Or you can run away,” Mom suggested. She floated, her hair fanning around her. Only her head remained above the stone-like water of Lake Memora.
I watched as her head disappeared beneath the surface. Immediately, the fog moved to fill the space she’d occupied. Faint bubbles appeared. A half minute passed, and then came the desperate boiling of bubbles on the top of the lake as her body and mind competed for control. Gradually, the bubbles stopped.
I backed away, tears stinging at my eyes. Mom’s pale form floated to the surface of the water, my brothers swimming around her. I could almost hear the eulogistic laughter of the little boys. And then they too were still.
I wept.
And then I ran.

[Madi]

A new Beginning
Words: 451

Our boat slowly floated through the thick mist. It was getting dark and we hadn’t seen any land yet.

Our boat had hit a iceberg and everyone was shipwrecked. Luckily my family and I got the last escape boat so we managed to get away from the horrible that I no longer wanted in my memories. I know it would never be gone. Wherever we were going to live, very step I took on that land would just remind me of today.

The mist slowly started to clear and my father began yelling he could see leaves. I had fallen asleep so when he yelled I woke up but I didn’t believe him. I rubbed my eyes to get a better view of what he was talking about it. All I saw was blur.

I reached into my bag (which had luckily been saved) and pulled out my glasses case. They definitely weren’t in good shape but they could help me see. I slipped them on and I could see the beautiful land my father was talking about.

“It’s true!!” I yelled “There is land. Paddle faster!!!!” I was so excited that I jumped up and down but it began rocking back and forth. My mother told me to stop rocking but I couldn’t hear her so I continued doing so until I fell in. Everyone began laughing with me until I pleaded them to let me back in.

But there was no point I felt the sand beneath my toes and I stood up to get a better view of our surroundings.

“Home”, my 7 year old brother whispered.

“No, this will never be home”, I cried and wiped the tears away from my face with my worn out green sleeve. “I’ll go look for firewood”, I managed to say before stomping off into the forest.

I didn’t want this to be home. I didn’t want to face the fact that I’d never see my bedroom, or sleep on my bed or even get to see my cat Pussy again. At least they were still alive, but she never knew I wouldn’t be back.

I began collecting big pieces of firewood and I went back out to where my family was to set up a fire. The boat had been set by a tree or more so it seemed to stuck there. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. As the fire began to rise my father came back with 4 fish in his hands.

“We’ll be living like this the rest of our lives. I’m sure we’ll all get sick of fish. At the moment this is what we are stuck with”.

My family began to laugh out loud.

[Emily]

Cascading Catastrophe

I could feel the cotton fabric rub against the bridge of my nose and ruffle my long brown eyelashes. The fabric pressed closer on my eyelids as the handkerchief tightened at the back of my head. A muggy breeze came from the opened window of the little car I was seated in, and tickled my flushed cheeks.

Don’t worry, I’m not being kidnapped by a stranger who’s on the border line of insane — I’m with Colton; the complete opposite.

“You ready, Ellie?” Colton’s voice sounded close to my ear. The corners of my lips tugged into a smile at the sound of his warm, sweet voice. Two hands took my wrists and pulled upward, lifting me up from the passenger seat. It wasn’t a harsh pull. It was careful — almost graceful. “I’m going to pick you up for a second, is that okay?”

I could feel pebbles pressing into the underside of my feet, through my worn sandals as I stood upright. I had no idea where we were. I had the blindfold on during the entire car ride, and Colton had tightened it on my face again once we had parked. All I could see was blackness, but I knew that my boyfriend would lead my way safely.

I nodded lightly in answer to his question, and then my feet flew up off the ground and strong arms held my body.

“Trust me, Ellie. I won’t drop you. I love you.”

“I love you,” I whispered. I could hear waves of water tumbling onto shore, and I could smell seaweed and grainy sand. I bounced lightly in Colton’s arms with each step that he took forward. It sounded as if he was walking on a dock.

I felt myself being lowered, and then I was seated on a wooden surface. The handkerchief was lifted from my eyes and the blackness cleared to light. I looked around and took in my surroundings. I sat in a canoe with wooden paddles by my side. Clear blue water floated all around me and Colton, sloshing on the sides of the canoe as it rocked from side to side with our weight.

Colton sat on the little seat across from me and grabbed both paddles and stuck them in the water. “I’ll row, while you relax and enjoy the peace.”

Everything seemed perfect. The sun was beating down on us, and birds chirped overhead without a care in the world. The surface of the water glistened and sparkled as our canoe calmly cut through the ripples of water, caused by the serene breeze.

This could possibly be the best date I’ve ever been on, I thought as I gazed at Colton who sat on the other side of the canoe, facing me. I took in his beautiful brown hair and breath-taking hazel eyes.

It could have been perfect, until it wasn’t…

“What’s that noise?” I asked. “It sounds like—” I stopped talking abruptly when I noticed Colton’s eyes widen magnificently with fear, his gaze over my shoulder. “What’s wrong?” I turned my head to look behind me. Rushing waves of water flowed at an incredible speed down the horizon. The river stopped going forward from there that I could see, so the only place it could have flowed would be…down.

A waterfall. That was the noise I had heard.

Our canoe was right in line with the downfall of water and it twisted out of control in the currents of surging water. It was only a matter of seconds before we would be part of that waterfall.

Before I could even react to what was going to happen, Colton picked me up and tossed me out of the boat, in the direction closer to land. I heard his voice before I went under the water: “Swim.”

So I swam. I swam hard against currents and I swam strong for the sake of Colton telling me to.

I finally pulled myself up onto grassy land, my sopping wet body aching from swimming for my life. Everything had happened so fast, I couldn’t even wrap my mind around it. I didn’t want to wrap my mind around it. Colton had saved me, but hadn’t had time to save himself before he went over the waterfall. It made my heart ache to know that he thought of me first in a moment of panic, and maybe he even died for it, too. I tried to push the thought of death out of my head just as soon as it had come.

A boardwalk stood over some marshland not too far away, and a wooden staircase went downward beside the ledge of the waterfall, for tourists to observe what nature had created. I rung out the water from my sundress and ran to the stairs. I hastily descended them, almost out of my mind with fear. Tears sprung from my eyes and my heart was in my throat. Colton had to be down there. He just had to be. All I could have done was hoped.

The scenery changed as I got to the bottom of the stairs. Mist and fog swirled all around, and only a dim sun shone through the branches of a lone tree. The sand was a mess and littered with unwanted seaweed. Colton’s canoe was washed up on the shore, just a few feet in front of me. There was no sign of my boyfriend. Then something caught my eye, floating on the murky water’s surface: the handkerchief Colton had used as a blindfold to bring me here. I cursed that handkerchief for starting what had happened, and for being the last thing to declare that my love was gone. I let out a loud whimper and cried into my hands, my knees collapsing into the rough sand beneath me.

[Mia]

A Fragile Oasis
Words: 654

Curiosity always gets the better of us and like me, many people have previously looked upon this place as a thing of beauty. The graceful cyan mist framed the shore invitingly, while the currents pulled the water into elegant ripples that gave a sense of calm. Everyone had stood on the shore looking across at the serene world, wishing they could see it up close but so far no one else had dared to. By crossing they would shatter the fragile oasis and turn their hallucination into a dark reality, as they did not know about the cruel life the beauty concealed.

I on the other hand did. I made the crossing seven years ago, entranced by the island's wonder and soon I was embraced by the darkness that lurked here. Regretfully I now sat looking back at everything I longed to have as I remembered the oppressive day I decided to leave.

* * * *

Everyone had warned me not to go. My parents had pleaded with me, my friends threatened me but nothing was worse than Jake's (my boyfriend) reaction. He had almost convinced me as I stood on the mainland encircled in his strong arms. His chin rested in my hair and I could feel his warm breath as he spoke.
“Please Eve. Please don't do this. I'm begging you, for us, please don't go.” His arms wrapped around me tighter as he continued to plead, determined not to let me leave. Conflicted emotions surged through me, I wanted to stay with Jake but I would never be happy until I had dampened my curiosity.

Eventually I lifted my head from his chest and making sure he was looking at me I placed a loving kiss on his scarlet lips. The kiss was final, I didn't need to tell him goodbye, instead I whispered the words “I'll love you always” before prying myself away from his defeated arms and climbing into my battered rowing boat.

At the time I did not know what had happened. The magnificent scene that was before me began to change, the beauty fading and being replaced by death. The tree began to loose its leaves, the sand became a murky grey and an ominous presence started to build, frightening me.

I tried to turn back but couldn't. The current that was pulling my boat was too strong to fight against and before long my boast was washed ashore on the derelict beach. I was alone...

* * *

As I sit on the sharp grains of sand I understood that the lake was a bridge between this world and the next, the beauty concealing the harsh reality of death. By crossing the lake I had shattered the illusion and freed my soul from my body, giving myself up to another life that I wouldn't be able to escape so easily. I didn't want to admit it to myself but standing there I made myself speak the truth out loud for the first time in seven years.
“I died on that crossing and I can't return no matter what.”

Curling my toes into the grains on sand I looked back at the mainland, longing to have my old life back. I had given up everything – my boyfriend, my family, my friends – to quench my eagerness to find out what lay beyond our island and I was now regretting it. All I wanted was for Jake to hold me once more and make me feel alive but that was not possible. Pain, longing and despair were the only feeling to coarse through my lifeless soul as I rested my head on my knees reminiscing. I hadn't seen anyone in years but as I looked up again I could see a faint silhouette drawing nearer in the distance.

Dry tears fell my face as I saw that the figure approaching was a man.

[Taliah]

The perfect place to hide

Be still. Be quiet. I’m not sure where they are, but that’s good. It means they probably can’t see me either. That’s the beauty of the mist.

It would be safer if I was hidden by something solid, too, but I can’t for the life of me find anywhere. I should move forward. Look for a safer place.

Step by step. Must not be found, must not make noise. My foot skids sideways on a shining rock. It’s so loud after all the silence! They’ve got me now. It’s not just paranoia, I can hear them! They’re excited, they’re shouting after me.

I see them! That means they can see me… no, it’s just a tree, the yells are from another direction. I run towards it, hoping beyond hope- yes. There’s a hollow! I suck in my tummy as far as it will go. I wish my bum was just slightly smaller! I’m through, I’m safe.

I thought I’d outsmarted them. I really did. I guess it just never occurred to me that they might have brains as well, that they might look in obvious hiding places.

They hate me. They hate all of us. Usually, they despise us so much they’d become pure animal when they see us, dropping whatever they’re doing, throwing things, howling. Then, if possible, it got worse. They started to chase us down, grab us, tear us apart. Kill us, if they could.

It started as just a group, meeting on Sunday and enjoying themselves. Then they became almost like a religion, preaching and deciding on who was good and who was evil. So many people, joined, we couldn’t believe it.

I can’t believe it. I think it was more than just persuasion. I think their minds have been poisoned. They’re hardly human any more.

Now they’ve moved on from attacking anyone of us that they see. Now they’ve devoted their lives to the activity. Now, we’re always running, even when they haven’t found us yet.

I’m still hiding in the trunk. Waiting for them to find me. They’re close, I know it. I can smell them. I can smell the blood on their breath. There’s no time for cooking food when you’re out hunting.

A hand. Screaming. Fists fly everywhere as I fight to be free, even for just a few more seconds. Shockingly, it works. My attacker backs away. Then, he actually speaks! With proper words and everything.

I stick my head out of the tree. Might as well, everyone else is acting weird. The person - people, actually – are standing around wearing masks and thick clothing. At their feet lie my hunters, disabled just in time to save my life.

The people had me funny costumes like theirs. “To protect from evil,” they said. They are another strange cult, maybe worse than the original. They aren’t trying to kill me though, so that’s a plus.

I go with them and live happily ever after. Ish. But that’s a longer story.

[Charity]

Reminiscence
Words: 475

“Gold,” she whispered, “is the color of magic.”

Kaiya leaned back against the tree’s trunk, relishing the breeze as it played across her skin. She savored the sound of the lake’s waves lapping against the shore, breathing in the peace of this tiny haven. The bark was rough through the thin material of her silken dress, but she didn’t care. Nothing was going to keep her from this place.

She had to face these memories.

“White,” she continued, staring upwards at the sky, “the color of sand.” Her body trembled at the memory--the feeling of the sand beneath her that day when Corr had first touched his lips to hers.

“Blue is the most dangerous fire.” He had said those words one night as they lay on the beach, lifting his hand as the azure flames had danced around his fingers. She could see the light as it flickered off his face—the playful glint in his eyes that had always made him so alive.
She let out a deep breath.

“Red,” she paused, digging her fingers into the bark as a burning tear escaped from the corner of her eye. She swallowed, “the color of blood.”

“Black...” her voice caught and she closed her eyes, “it is the color of metal and steal, of cold chains, and of dungeons. It is the color of death.”

She could still see him that day. She still felt the way his gaze had fallen on her in that moment, his eyes—those beautiful, gold-hued eyes—had reflected the pain that wracked his body as he had collapsed before his captors.

“Death is the payment for using magic,” the King had said, standing proudly before his audience as they watched. He looked to where Corr kneeled; his arms tied above his head, his body bruised and beaten. “Let this be an example to you.”

Then they had cut his arms. Their razor blades flashing as three deep slices were opened on each of his wrists.

She had felt his pain as if it were her very own. Her entire body trembled, her very soul clenched up within her, as if life itself was being wrung from her heart. The firm, unyielding touch of her mother’s hand on her shoulder had been like a chain—forcing her to stand there, watching through tear-blurred vision as the life bled out of him.

She should have fought free, should have shoved past the guards, should have pushed the king aside, should have held him in her arms, should have...

Kaiya screamed. She screamed until she cried, sinking to her knees on the sandy beach, gasping for air that didn’t satisfy the ache in her chest. It was an untouchable pain, deep and undiminishing.

She had let him die that day.

Kaiya Hastlier, the daughter of the king, had been powerless to save him.