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Weekly Contests > Week Twelve (Jan. 12- Jan. 18) DONE

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

Arthur | 554 comments Mod
Instructions:
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 http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/6... 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 Suicide. If anyone has any objections to this topic, please go to the Objections post. The rules are pretty loose. You could write about indoor shoes, something slippery causing sliding, people who give the slip constantly or a person in your story having a difficult time holding something.

Weekly stories must be at least 500 words long to 2,000 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 [deleted user] (new)

jeeeez! suicide!!


message 3: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune cool, i know we'll get plenty for this topic! : D


message 4: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments oh, i should tell oldpeople to join, he'd have a story for this... >.<


message 5: by Chandani (new)

Chandani  (milkduds920) | 311 comments OOOO I LIKE THIS TOPIC!!


hehe i tend to dislike happy stories :P


message 6: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune : D


message 7: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune : O is oldpeople having thoughts of suicide?!? lol jk


message 8: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments haha, no, he just writes stuff like that... though it's usually pretty..... morbid, shall we say...


message 9: by Chandani (last edited Jan 13, 2009 03:53PM) (new)

Chandani  (milkduds920) | 311 comments My story was going good.....for a while. And then i was like "NO NO WRONG WRONG!!!" And then i hit myself in the head a few times and decided to switch from second to first person. I think it'll turn out great when im done procrastinating. :P


message 10: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments haha, procrastination's my favorite....


message 11: by Chandani (new)

Chandani  (milkduds920) | 311 comments Yeah. Maybe ill stop procrastinating.....later.


message 12: by Robin (new)

Robin it's pretty bad with school :P


message 13: by Robin (new)

Robin haha


message 14: by Chandani (new)

Chandani  (milkduds920) | 311 comments xD


message 15: by [deleted user] (new)

Okay here's mine! This time I KNOW it's not late. I'm sorry about last time, I didn't realize it was over before I submitted it! I feel ashamed for being an idiot and posting it without even looking at the second page of comments... or the first... anyway, here it is!:

My thumb grazed my recent cut, I coward from the truth by a smile. A group of jocks throw a football around, the gossip girls are standing in a circle texting. One glares up at me, I smile, and look away, attempting to shrug it off. But it never does, each glare, each rude comment, each physical contact; puts me closer to that edge.

Tonight is going to be the night, I'll end it all; what matter is it to them if I die? My house is about three blocks down if I turn right, but I turn left, my pace quickens as my heart increases.

I can feel the razor tied on my necklace, it's what I use when I'm having a bad day; the necklace is hidden under my shirt, so no one is suspicious. If I kill myself at my house, it will only mean my little sister will find me when she gets home from fourth grade. No, I can't do that to ANY family member, that'd be too much, even for them.

Instead, I'm going to lock myself into the fitting department at the mall, it will be long after I'm gone before anyone will notice. I step into the mall, the smell of funnel cake, pizza, and perfumes flood my nostrils. Without even looking anywhere but the floor, I walk into a clothing department, grab the first pair of jeans I find, and lock myself in the small cubicle.

Being in such a small place alone makes me VERY closterphobic, added on to the fact that I'm finally ending my misery, my heart is racing, my stomach hurting, and my breathing heavier. My left sleeve is pulled up, then my right, before grabbing the razor, I look at myself.

My red frizzy hair is covering my face, I take my hair, and pull it back so I can see myself one last time. Pimples cover my forehead and nose, my braces have some form of food stuck in them; I'm glad I won't have to live that shame down.

My arms are covered in cuts: deep cuts, shallow cuts; long cuts, short cuts. I take the razor and take a deep breath. "I hope my family forgives me." The cut on my wrist is so soothing, like a friend revisited, then the other. I don't cut deep enough, I curse under my breath, and cut again. This time I know it's deep, blood spills down my arms, "Miss, are you okay?"

Someone moves to my door as I drop the razor, I'm getting dizzy. The door is tried to get open, eventually she pulls out her keys and unlocks the door. As the door opens, I fall to the floor, the last thing I hear is her screaming.



message 16: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments wow.... depressing, but then, it should be, hmm? vey nice vey nice....


message 17: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune awesome! creepy, but awesome... ahhh, I don't think I'm going to have time this week to write one, I hope other people do! Hint hint tigger...uh... monolith... w/e ur name is... :D


message 18: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments haha, i dunno if i'll have time either...


message 19: by Paul (new)

Paul
Hi, just a short story – 566 words. Hope u like it. Yes I would like my story featured on the website if I’m lucky enough to win.



SUICIDE IS PAINLESS.
The city looks beautiful up here. You can almost smell the innocence in the air as the first glimmers of the approaching morning breaks. A whispering breeze gently swirls and buffets my exposed body as I watch the glittering stars as they glide majestically above my head.

Below, the city is an intricate flashing pattern of light and colour. It’s hard to believe that down there is a huge infrastructure of human behaviour. Right under my nose people are laughing, shouting, crying, making love, and making war. People are screaming their lungs off as they enter the world, while others gurgle and rattle their way to their maker. Me, I just kind of think its all a big joke now.

For the first time in days I feel a calm descend through my aching bones. I've lost everything in the last few months; my job, my family, all the things I’ve taken for granted for so long. All gone in the blind of an eye. They said there was a credit crunch on; I laughed. I made lame, silly excuses when the first mortgage payment when astray. Laughed it off with a large glass of wine when they took the plasma TV, top of the range BMW, my wife’s pride and joy.

Like everyone else we were sinking fast, I just didn't have the mind-set to join the others as they floated for safety, clinging to the lifeboats of sanity and common sense. The blood-sucking sharks that swam around fools like us leeched the money from us. Our credit slowly sunk amid an avalanche of debt and despair.

Down below the first ear-piercing screech of a siren shatters the early morning tranquility as an ambulance hurtles toward its destination. Already I see the streets awash with red and amber strobes of bright lightening.

With the home gone the arguments started, torrents of abuse exploding as we were forced to live like squashed sardines in a run-down flat on a flea bitten council backwater. Squeaky beds, wafer-thin walls and deadly cockroaches were our new friends now. The wife and kids left me to the damp and mildew as I took to cuddling the bottle far more than them.

I can see a small crowd from up here. They're milling around like ants as they study the mess on the pavement in disgust. Maybe I should go down and help out. After all it's not everyday that you see what looks like a spattered pizza covering the pavement. Copper colour liquid oozes like a deadly snake before disappearing down the drain with a gurgle.

With my family gone I was sinking even faster. Drink and loneliness were my family now. Then the job was gone; the boss didn't want a drunk, unshaven loser frightening the clients away. He told me I smelt like shit; said I needed help to escape the spiral of suffering I was inflicting upon my body. Told me no wonder my wife didn't want to sleep with me anymore. I didn't reply that the whiskey never complained when tucked up next to my sweaty book deep in the night.

I don't feel a thing as they scrape my body from the pavement. It’s a long way down there I have to be careful that I don't fall. Mind you I can vouch that suicide is painless. It's living that causes pain.



message 20: by Chandani (new)

Chandani  (milkduds920) | 311 comments Wow nice!

Title: Intangible
Word count: 573 pretty short
Notes: Woah this was a tough one! Not the topic, but i was sooo busy all week!! I rewrote i a bunch of times cuz i was having one of my perfectionist moments :P Hope you like it!

**************************
Slowly, I take another deep drag on my cigarette; pulling it so close I nearly burn my lips. I close my eyes and savor the sensations that this legal drug sends through me. As the smoke reaches my lungs, I smile at the familiar asphyxiated feeling and the cool bitter aftertaste.
I can’t seem to take my eyes off of the pills and alcohol that sit beside me on the edge of the bathtub. From where my mind has traveled I watch as I bring the lethal mixture to my mouth. And as I swallow, I can’t help but wonder how the hell I got here.

My mother left us when I was 16 years old. She had been having an affair with my father’s best friend since I was 12 and she finally got pregnant and left me alone with my already mentally unstable father. All for the sake if her wonderful relationship.
It seems reasonable for one to want to die after being abandoned by your own mother, but surprisingly she cannot be held responsible for my decision. She herself did not make me yearn for death. She did not help me brew the deadly concoction that I was bound to ingest. She may have added onto the pain itself, but there are better reasons for suicide.
My father, as much as he may have aided to my own insanity, cannot be blamed either.
The poor man was out of his mind.
My childhood is checkered with his failed suicide attempts, and visits to the psychiatric ward. He was constantly under surveillance. Whether it is a maid, a nurse or his doctors.
I seemed to be the only one who simply ignored him. It was hard to pay attention to a crazed old man, when you are at constant battle with your own thoughts. Its not even like we had anything in common, besides the want to leave this world forever.


I can barely begin to explain to you what being suicidal feels like. It is like taking your
Good reasoning and shoving into a paper shredder. It is like having your heart burned at the stake, and most of all it is wanting everything that you were raised to fear. One day, I simply couldn’t take it. I hated this place. I wanted to leave and never come back. I hated this pain that seemed to be all I could feel. I wanted relief from the pain; I wanted it all to be over.
I had tried so hard to deny it. I tried to tell myself that it would pass, but my meek rationalizations were no match against the insanity. The madness hungrily fed on my hesitation and on my fear. It feasted on my emotions only leaving pain to be felt. I fought terribly against these thoughts. I rebelled against fate for as long as I could. But in the end, the bigger always wins. The hungrier will always get more. And the greed of ones insane mind will surely drive you to the edge.

I smile as the numbness settles in. I wobble back and forth on the edge of the bathtub, and finally fall to the floor. I can hear my pulse thudding in my ears, becoming slower with each beat. For the first time in so long, I can feel no pain. And as my heartbeat comes to a stop,

I feel finally feel release.




message 21: by Arthur, Live a little Give a lot (new)

Arthur | 554 comments Mod
Evening Set

Kitty Hayward had sat next the window. She was sitting suicide cross seat from her mother. Which meant in nearest the window away from the other passengers where behind her she could hear someone’s sitting which gave the sounds of a rubber duck being smothered to die. Kitty only grimaced her fate which left another line building in her face of the humility.
Why oh why not did her mother choose the bus to travel? Kitty didn’t even want to swim. She begged her mother not to go. She didn’t like to swim. But her mother herself learned to swim late in life. Kitty had to learn that was all. It was with that galling attitude Kitty herself had swim practice to attend. Ever since she was eight years old her mother and Kitty boarded this same public transit bus towards swim practices every week.
Her mother was a source of ethics of well learned upbringing. Kitty wouldn’t dare demean her mother now twelve. She would just like to kind of forget about those awful laps around that dingy pool week after week.
Kitty had the advantage of the window to see the people crossing the streets. She could watch them board, she just couldn’t touch them, smothered as she had been by her family and their love.
She couldn’t be called anything else than Kitty. Her rightful way to pronounce Catherine. She couldn’t accept Catherine or anything remotely like Catherine. She even dovetailed Anne or Annie’s. She wouldn’t want to be called those shortened names that sounded like Catherine. Her favorite book in school had been Anne of Green Gables but still she hated the sound of those names. Kitty Hayward had been very alliterative and her teacher had promised if she would join the school literature group she’d give tickets for her family to see Anne of Green Gables which was touring this month.
That was what had been on Kitty’s mind. The tickets to see the musical play. The fact her family had little interest in Kitty as a person of her own was proven to her like the time her kissing cousin had come to stay a week at the summer’s beginning. He had insisted she kiss him. He had threatened her. She finally did give in. He kissed her back. But it was nothing more than it. It was not something she needed to report. But still she knew her family had little notice of her unless she was under their wing. A wing that needed broken.
Her father had been tall, handsome and white. A normal role model in the conservative world in a small town with ten thousand people. She and her mother got to swimming practice riding the only bus which carried passengers across a route through the ever growing town. A normal route of stops but through the town one single bus and circle’s again around only for a daily route. It stops at the spa and shopping center for the early afternoon lunch for an hour.
Her mother had been half black by birth which made Kitty a quarter black. She felt it too. Her hair had been a mashed potato of lines that she hid in her hat. Her face had a complexion she knew nothing about. But this year her father spoke about braces for Kitty’s teeth. This led Kitty to believe she had been a mutant by birth.
On top of the swimming lessons Kitty attended the only midtown school in town, Normal School. A school she deemed midindustrial and inartistic. The name says it all, the founder was Ed A. Normal a once town police chief who retired in 1878 to become the towns first educator. Built somewhere after the first world war and dedicate to Ed A. Normal who would have been proud had he known its completion, it then was the most advanced building in the town.
Kitty spent many of her summer in summer school and can name bugs she had seen in field trips to the country. She especially liked the tourist attracted duck ponds and petting zoos. At least the animals had an exotic sense of humor to live in the wild while surviving the destruction of nature in the hands of man was her opinion. She loved birds and insects and often saw boys throw sticks after raccoons. She would hurl her own unsanitary remarks warning the boys touching animals that had been tricked into playing by boys was a dangerous past time.
Kitty’s mother moved to the town and also brought both parents. Kitty’s grandparents lived near the school and Kitty made a stop everyday. Seeing her half colored grandmother who was the only colored person she knew often made her think about the other only colored child she knew, a boy she secretly had a milder than normal crush on. His father had some kind of Mexican-Asian mix in him and worked for the deputy station, but which left Fillip’s skin even darker than a tan. They had noticed one another but she didn’t give him notice back.
Kitty’s mother had the beauty that came from the mixed marriage. Kitty would remain in a fit understanding the blotchy complexion Kitty had from lack of sun and the misunderstanding from gaining summer tan hives.
She was looking out the bus window watching two running men after a third who obviously ran away from them. There was a woman screaming in a door way. But crime really rarely happened. Especially in this small town.
She switched on the power to her headset radio mp3 to hear a radio station that had news. Maybe it would concern the town they lived in. Maybe it was a crime that had been committed that threatened national security.
Crime reminded her of the time her mother’s brother Dell Culvert had been a mere passenger when he had to wrestle a hijacker to the floor on a flight to get his gun but Dell Culvert died. And the mention of crime reminded her of her Aunt who had been mugged but punched the masked man only to be slashed by his knife. Her aunt had died later before she could find help. Bad things had a way of happening. Her mother always said bad things happened in threes. But Kitty couldn’t think what was the number three.

The End


message 22: by Arthur, Live a little Give a lot (new)

Arthur | 554 comments Mod
It's that time again. Please no more stories for this topic. Monday there will be a new topic. These stories this week was really awesome. Now you can go to the poll to vote for the one you most like.


message 23: by Arthur, Live a little Give a lot (new)

Arthur | 554 comments Mod
Vote your favorite story: http://www.goodreads.com/poll/show/76...


message 24: by [deleted user] (new)

paul, your's was GREAT!


message 25: by Paul (new)

Paul AVoiceInTheDarkness wrote: "paul, your's was GREAT!"

Thanks, I labored with an idea all week, nothing was coming so then decided just to write anything and this came out in a half hour frenzy! Thanks for voting!! I really appreiciate the time and effort to everyone.


message 26: by Luke (new)

Luke Skywalker | 2 comments Where can I suggest topics for the 19th through the 25th?


message 27: by Clare D' Lune (new)

Clare D' Lune at the topic suggestions posts. There are posts for Poem Topics, 2 week Contest Topics, and weekly contest topics. We'd love to have any suggestions. It may not be used right away, but we try to use them all.


message 28: by jeeves... (new)

jeeves... | 306 comments ooh, i should come up with some...


message 29: by Arthur, Live a little Give a lot (new)

Arthur | 554 comments Mod
Luke wrote: "Where can I suggest topics for the 19th through the 25th?"

In the Updates topic, it's in a folder Weekly Topic Suggestions

http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/6...


message 30: by Arthur, Live a little Give a lot (new)

Arthur | 554 comments Mod
Four stories, 16 votes!! And the results are in...
the voting this week had the highest amount of voters yet.

Congratulations to each submitting writer.

There is a tie!! ... The winners have five votes each! The winner is Paul and Chandani. Both very good stories and I am looking forward to seeing their stories again posted on Short Story Galore. Links: http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...
& the free web site: http://shortstorygalore.synthasite.com/

Go to the topic suggestion page and give your own topic suggestions http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/6...



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