by Naomi L. | October 28, 2016 | J.C. Wolfe's Writing, Short Stories |
“Mommy, I don’t wanna go!”
“But it’s Halloween, Autumn! You love trick-or-treating!”
“I know, but I wanna stay home this year.” The ten-year-old girl turned nervously to the front window as her mother placed the finishing touch of her costume, a witch’s hat, on her head.
“Let her stay,” said an older boy standing by the front door in a werewolf costume. “Then I can hang out with my friends without having to drag her around.”
“Fred, you promised to take your sister trick-or-treating this year.” His mother gave him a stern look as she handed a pumpkin-shaped candy bucket to her daughter. “You can meet up with your friends after you and Autumn visit all the houses on this street and the next one over.”
“Mom, I’m 13 now! I’m too old to go around begging for candy like a baby! Can’t you take her?”
“Dad’s working late tonight, so I have to stay home to hand out the candy, remember? Just go, it’ll be a good chance for you to bond with your sister.”
“Fine,” the boy sighed, rolling his eyes as he idly swung the skull-shaped candy bucket in his hand. “Autumn, let’s go!”
Fred walked over to his little sister, who had been staring out the window through the whole argument, and took her by the hand. Their mother called after them as they stepped out the door onto the front porch.
“Fred, bring Autumn back before it gets dark, and don’t come home too late! Have fun, kids!”
And with that, the door closed and the children were left to enjoy Halloween on their own.
“Freddy”, the girl whispered as they walked down the front steps, “does the… kid-munching monster really come out every Halloween night?”
A week ago, Autumn had started hearing strange noises coming from beneath her bedroom window. Ever since asking her brother about it on the first night, she had been terrified of going outside for fear of seeing the monster he told her was hiding under the porch. According to Fred, every October the creature would choose a random house to stalk, then appear on Halloween night to gobble up the children who came back with buckets full of candy. Autumn had always been afraid of monsters, and it never occurred to her that the noises might be the work of the wind or a harmless animal, nor that her brother had made up the story to avoid having to take her trick-or-treating.
The siblings paused on the sidewalk and the boy looked down at his sister with a smirk.
“Only after it gets dark”, he assured her, “so we’d better get this over with fast. Let’s start over there.”
Over the next hour, Fred escorted Autumn to each house on their street and on the neighboring street. When the sun disappeared completely, they started heading home with buckets full of candy, and by the time they came within sight of their home, the moon could be seen peeking through the clouds. Before the siblings reached their house, however, they heard voices calling out from behind them.
“Hey, Fred! Ready for the party?”
The boy turned around to see a group of teenagers standing at the other end of the street and beckoning him over. Suddenly awkward, he glanced back at his house before turning to his little sister.
“Listen, I gotta go.” He handed her his bucket. “Take these back for me, ok? Don’t tell Mom I left early and you can have a piece.”
“But…” Autumn glanced nervously up at the darkening sky. “What about the monster?”
“You’ll be fine! The house is right there and it’s not that dark yet. You can make it if you run. Happy Halloween!”
And he ran off to join his friends, leaving his little sister trembling and teary-eyed alone on the sidewalk.
Autumn continued on her way home, trying not to think how much more enticing she would be to the child-eating monster now with twice as much candy on her. By the time she reached the front steps, the sky had grown dark and the street was lit by the full moon and the flickering glow of jack-o-lanterns on every doorstep. To a frightened ten-year-old, it was an eerie and unnerving sight.
The girl placed a foot on the bottommost step, ready to bolt up to the door and into the house, but at that moment, she heard the strange creaking sound from beneath the porch again. Autumn dared to peek into the dark space under the wooden boards… and jumped back at the sight that met her eyes: a pair of bright yellow eyes staring back at her!
Quick as a flash, the child leaped up the steps two at a time, screaming as she hurried for the safety of her house. She was so startled that she tripped on the top step and fell flat on the doorstep, dropping both buckets and spilling candy all over the porch. Two sounds followed: a loud screeching from under the floorboards and the creaking of the front door being thrown open.
“Sweetie! Are you okay?” Autumn looked up to see her mother in the doorway, bending down to help her to her feet. “What happened? Where’s your brother?”
“I’m okay,” said the girl, brushing some fallen candy off her witch costume as she stood up. “Freddy… dropped me off before he left with his friends.”
“Why were you screaming?”
“I…” Autumn looked down at the wooden flooring under her feet. “I thought I saw something. Down there.”
The girl pointed at the floor, still shaking from the scare of seeing those eyes. Her mother looked down in surprise.
“Well, let’s check it out.” And against her daughter’s protests, she stepped down from the porch to investigate, leaving Autumn shaking in anticipation of whatever horror was about to unfold.
To be concluded next Friday
by Naomi L. | October 7, 2016 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
“Thank you!”
It’s all still a blur, but I know I ended my Master’s thesis presentation with the biggest smile on my face. The applause rang in my head for hours afterward. I barely even remember the evaluators’ comments during the defense.
All I remember is their last question: “What next?”
I’d already thought about the question long and hard. Would I attain a Ph.D right away, or take a break to pursue creative writing?
I smiled and said I’d follow my passion. They thought I meant science. I knew better.
“On to the next chapter of my life!”
This is a little 100-word challenge I set for myself just for fun, loosely based on a true story. Hope you enjoyed the piece! Thanks for reading!
by Naomi L. | September 16, 2016 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
The young bear spotted the bee landing on a daisy.
Curious, he followed the striped insect to its hive.
It led him through meadows rich with wildflowers.
Finally, it vanished into a large tree.
The cub sniffed the hive cautiously.
He reached his paw inside.
Out came something sticky.
It tasted sweet.
Delicious gold.
Honey!
This piece is based on What If? Exercise 93: “Ten to One”. The exercise is to write a 55-word story in which the first sentence has ten words, the second has nine, etc., until the last sentence has only one word. The objective is to show that precision and thrift in writing can produce surprisingly powerful results. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
Back to the story
by Naomi L. | August 19, 2016 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
I see the way you’re staring, and I know you’re wondering what it’s like to be me, but it’s not so easy to sum up a day in my life, this wonderful life of luxury and tranquility, a life where I get to sleep through most of the day and no one bats an eye, where I wake up at the crack of dawn and sing my heart out for half an hour before I run outside to greet the day, where I spend the early morning chasing birds and butterflies and lizards around until I get tired and collapse on the sunlit porch for hours, where I’m constantly waited on by adoring subjects who will pet me and scratch behind my ears when I rub myself against their legs and who know to rub my belly exactly three times when I lie on my back because four is when I attack, where all I have to do is cry to make someone open the door for me and even wait the whole five minutes until I’m finally ready to come inside, where there’s never a shortage of giant oddly shaped scratching posts and high surfaces and objects to knock over, where I always get to curl up in a warm lap or a soft bed when it gets cold at night, and where I get all the food and comfort and unconditional love I could possibly want, a life so perfect that I could hardly sum it up in a day… except that I just did, and I can tell you it’s the best life in the world.
This story is based on What If? Exercise 90: “The Journey of the Long Sentence”. The exercise is to write a short short story that’s only one sentence long. The objective is to understand how we can shape our writing in a similar manner that our minds function, building a linear order for observations that often consist of many overlapping aspects. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
Back to the story
by Naomi L. | July 29, 2016 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
Stop pretending. This isn’t you.
Why are you hiding? You think they’ll never see through the mask? You think they won’t like what they see when they do?
Pretending is exhausting, I know. It must be hard to keep up a facade all the time. That’s why you cry every night, isn’t it? That’s why you never let anyone in, why you never show that face to anyone but me. It’s easier to wear the mask when nobody knows what’s underneath.
You keep telling yourself that it’s better to play a part, to blend in, to be “one of them”. You think if you always tell them exactly what they want to hear, then maybe they’ll like you. You think their approval can make you happy. You’d rather feel accepted than dare to stand out by letting them see what’s on the inside, even if it chips away a little piece of you every day.
But I know you’re better than this.
Don’t give me that look. You know I’m right. The glass between us can’t protect you from the truth. That’s why you came looking for me, isn’t it? Why you always look for me in your weakest moments. You want me to help you, to encourage you, to save you. You want me to tell you what you already know.
But I can’t tell you anything, can I? Everything I’m telling you, you’re really telling yourself. I’m just the voice; the words are all yours. You have the power to save yourself.
That’s it. There’s that smile. You feel your confidence growing, don’t you? Hold onto that feeling. You know what you have to do now. You’ve always known.
Start listening to this voice in the mirror, the voice inside you.
Don’t be afraid anymore. It’s time to discard the mask for good. Get out there and show the world this face, your real face, the face of someone who’s comfortable in their skin and doesn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. Only then will you finally be free. Trust me, that’s the only face you’ll ever need to be happy.
Stop pretending to be somebody else, and start being you.
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