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☼Beach_Bum
Guest
How can we make it better? We know we stink at writing, but we just did it for fun.
Prologue:
The rain poured down heavily, as the old rusty bell of the tired schoolhouse rang. It swayed side to side, echoing a horrid sound that would continually chime in your head many minutes subsequent to the very first ding. Inside the one room schoolhouse, Wendy Harrisburg gathered her wrinkled cloth sack and stuffed the day’s arithmetic papers inside. Wendy was the shy sort, the kind that talks in murmurs. Her hair was a chestnut color that was cropped to her shoulders. Freckles, that could barley be seen, dotted across her nose, and laid atop of her rosy cheeks. Her skin, which was looked as fine as porcelain and China, was barely visible beneath her velvet dress.
She rushed outside the rustic wooden door and found herself among much foliage. Wendy trailed the way to an isolated area of overgrown weeds; she carefully rummaged through the tangled plants as she approached a large ivy colored cottage, which could house six. She clasped her bony hand around the bronze doorknob and sauntered into her home. As she strolled to the kitchen, she noticed a very uncomfortable silence. Why the silence was peculiar she did not know. The moss covered cottage was quieter than most homes, but that was because of the secluded land. “Hello?” Wendy hollered, her voice slightly shaking. Her mother normally was waiting to greet her after a tough day at school. Suddenly, a strange man appeared from Wendy’s parent’s bedroom. His hesitant but knowledgeable state suggested he might have some sort of medical degree.
“Pardon me, sir may I ask who you are?” Wendy asked demandingly. With no answer, the man slowly shook his head. Even more annoyed, Wendy raised her sharp voice.
“Excuse me, but WHO ARE YOU?” She declared.
Then again with no reply the man beckoned with his hairy arm to come into the room. She questioningly stumbled backwards, but glancing at the man’s pleading eyes, Wendy rushed over. As she wandered in the room, she noticed a balled figure under the lumpy blanket on the bed. The orange sun dimmed behind the linen curtains, as Wendy cautiously neared the bulge. The bump shifted into what seemed like a more relaxed position, at that abrupt moment, it started into a raspy fit of coughs. The shape migrated toward the top of the blanket and a round head popped up.
“Mother!” Wendy cried, as relief washed over her.
The doctor like man shushed her, and she was muted. After many seconds of insecure stillness, Wendy became uneasy with wonder and anticipation.
“I just want to know what is going on!” she shouted in a thick whisperer.
“I’m afraid your mother is quite ill. She may not recover. Unless…” The doctor like man responded with a somewhat smug like expression plastered across his face.
“If she did…what?” Wendy inquired.
“Well…umm…”
“Yes?”
“What I’m saying, is that she may not recover…”
“Which means?”
“That she may die! For heaven’s sake child…she’s going to die…can’t you see that?” The man was frustrated that Wendy didn’t quite understand the concept. What he said brought tears to Wendy’s gray eyes. The man seemed to lack sympathy and as Wendy felt should not be a forgotten aspect, him being a doctor and such.
Her mother called for her in a strained voice. Wendy kneeled down alongside the bed and offered her hand to her mother, but instead of clutching Wendy’s icy hand; she dropped a cool necklace into Wendy’s palm. The necklace was the outline of a heart, which ironically, is just the way Wendy felt, stabbed in the center of her heart.
After that particular event, Wendy’s mother dropped her hand. She was gone. Forever and she would never be back.
Chapter 1
Wendy’s eyes were red with pain, and her hands were dirty with acrimony. She ran through the crooked woods to her favorite tree. Her mind was polluted with rage. She couldn’t stop the tears from streaking her rosy cheeks. It felt like a swarm of bees pricked her body, until the pain swallowed her whole. The wind brushed her hair into knots, leaving a tangled mess behind. She looked liked the devil settled in town. The loneliness struck her like lightning on a stormy day. She never felt so alone; she always had her mother around in her business, to the point where she just wanted to run away to her tree. But now, all she wanted was her mother. Nothing else mattered. She wove the cold necklace around her hand. This was the only thing she despised, why did her mother leave her alone, with this solid copper outline of a heart- shaped necklace. That what was she was, her heart stolen in the middle.
Wendy outstretched her palm in desire to feel the coolness of the aging leaves that barely hung on to the tree branch before her. When she felt meaningless, she always crept her way to this tree. She didn’t know how, but it always seemed to calm her emotions. This was her only true friend. Yes, sad, but oddly comforting. At
Prologue:
The rain poured down heavily, as the old rusty bell of the tired schoolhouse rang. It swayed side to side, echoing a horrid sound that would continually chime in your head many minutes subsequent to the very first ding. Inside the one room schoolhouse, Wendy Harrisburg gathered her wrinkled cloth sack and stuffed the day’s arithmetic papers inside. Wendy was the shy sort, the kind that talks in murmurs. Her hair was a chestnut color that was cropped to her shoulders. Freckles, that could barley be seen, dotted across her nose, and laid atop of her rosy cheeks. Her skin, which was looked as fine as porcelain and China, was barely visible beneath her velvet dress.
She rushed outside the rustic wooden door and found herself among much foliage. Wendy trailed the way to an isolated area of overgrown weeds; she carefully rummaged through the tangled plants as she approached a large ivy colored cottage, which could house six. She clasped her bony hand around the bronze doorknob and sauntered into her home. As she strolled to the kitchen, she noticed a very uncomfortable silence. Why the silence was peculiar she did not know. The moss covered cottage was quieter than most homes, but that was because of the secluded land. “Hello?” Wendy hollered, her voice slightly shaking. Her mother normally was waiting to greet her after a tough day at school. Suddenly, a strange man appeared from Wendy’s parent’s bedroom. His hesitant but knowledgeable state suggested he might have some sort of medical degree.
“Pardon me, sir may I ask who you are?” Wendy asked demandingly. With no answer, the man slowly shook his head. Even more annoyed, Wendy raised her sharp voice.
“Excuse me, but WHO ARE YOU?” She declared.
Then again with no reply the man beckoned with his hairy arm to come into the room. She questioningly stumbled backwards, but glancing at the man’s pleading eyes, Wendy rushed over. As she wandered in the room, she noticed a balled figure under the lumpy blanket on the bed. The orange sun dimmed behind the linen curtains, as Wendy cautiously neared the bulge. The bump shifted into what seemed like a more relaxed position, at that abrupt moment, it started into a raspy fit of coughs. The shape migrated toward the top of the blanket and a round head popped up.
“Mother!” Wendy cried, as relief washed over her.
The doctor like man shushed her, and she was muted. After many seconds of insecure stillness, Wendy became uneasy with wonder and anticipation.
“I just want to know what is going on!” she shouted in a thick whisperer.
“I’m afraid your mother is quite ill. She may not recover. Unless…” The doctor like man responded with a somewhat smug like expression plastered across his face.
“If she did…what?” Wendy inquired.
“Well…umm…”
“Yes?”
“What I’m saying, is that she may not recover…”
“Which means?”
“That she may die! For heaven’s sake child…she’s going to die…can’t you see that?” The man was frustrated that Wendy didn’t quite understand the concept. What he said brought tears to Wendy’s gray eyes. The man seemed to lack sympathy and as Wendy felt should not be a forgotten aspect, him being a doctor and such.
Her mother called for her in a strained voice. Wendy kneeled down alongside the bed and offered her hand to her mother, but instead of clutching Wendy’s icy hand; she dropped a cool necklace into Wendy’s palm. The necklace was the outline of a heart, which ironically, is just the way Wendy felt, stabbed in the center of her heart.
After that particular event, Wendy’s mother dropped her hand. She was gone. Forever and she would never be back.
Chapter 1
Wendy’s eyes were red with pain, and her hands were dirty with acrimony. She ran through the crooked woods to her favorite tree. Her mind was polluted with rage. She couldn’t stop the tears from streaking her rosy cheeks. It felt like a swarm of bees pricked her body, until the pain swallowed her whole. The wind brushed her hair into knots, leaving a tangled mess behind. She looked liked the devil settled in town. The loneliness struck her like lightning on a stormy day. She never felt so alone; she always had her mother around in her business, to the point where she just wanted to run away to her tree. But now, all she wanted was her mother. Nothing else mattered. She wove the cold necklace around her hand. This was the only thing she despised, why did her mother leave her alone, with this solid copper outline of a heart- shaped necklace. That what was she was, her heart stolen in the middle.
Wendy outstretched her palm in desire to feel the coolness of the aging leaves that barely hung on to the tree branch before her. When she felt meaningless, she always crept her way to this tree. She didn’t know how, but it always seemed to calm her emotions. This was her only true friend. Yes, sad, but oddly comforting. At