Oct 04, 2010 19:10
hey guys!! I am so excited!!!!! BECAUSE: I JUST FINISHED MY SHORT STORY FOR THE 2011 SEVENTEEN FICTION CONTEST! I am very proud of it I am posting it right now!!!! I beg you to read it and comment I worked really hard on it... it is personal in a symbolic way for me. It may not be the winner of 5,000 dollars but I can always hope... I really need money for a car.lol.
'I feel every groove in the ridges of rock beneath beneath my toes, the sun bearing down on my back and each ghost of a breeze that teases my hair and face. Down below me the water doesn't stir, instead stretching smooth and flat like untouched glass. On it I can see my silhouette blocking the sun. Is that me? The shape is average and if you have that common in-between light-brown-maybe-blonde color of hair, you could be the girl I see through the liquid glass. She is similar to me, tall, thick-boned and knobby-kneed with only one dimple. There is so much more that makes us different. She's seen less years, and I can see it in her curious eyes and squared shoulders, my eyes show speculation from years of distrust and my shoulders slouch under the wieght of my life that I refuse to release. I lean forward for a better look, and she does too, so that we are face-to-face. We could be sisters. She is definitely younger, her face babyish with imperfect make-up and long careless tang-ly hair. My vanity is practiced and my smooth, flat-ironed hair frames my face and brushes my shoulders. She is a lot like me, an average, nothing memorable. I know her. It is the eyes that spark familiarity in my memory. The shape and green-ish color fall into place like a tetris game. I had known her four years ago, our eyes met in my blotchy, clouded bathroom mirror everyday. I'd hated her for her pointed nose and stringy hair back then. Now I hated her for being in the water, taunting me with her naive eyes. Foster Care is just a random assortment of words to her, and to me it is a past that sticks to me like a burr. Despite my bitter resentment, I feel affection for her. In her eyes I can see that she is young and curious, terrified of her own future. She is lonely and friendless... she cries almost every night. Her face is too gaunt and gray-eyed to belong to a thirteen year old girl. I suddenly feel guilty, and it swells in my mouth like peroxide. I have taken so much for granted for the past four years. I use to pride myself in being able to do without and now I lean on possessions and appearance. I have selfishly complained so much, when all my life has done since I was taken from my mother was get clearer, richer in color. The girl I see beneath the glass is barely thirteen and she fights to walk on water without drowning. I am seventeen and I walk on solid rock. I lay on my belly, the rock grinds into my ribs but I ignore it. I reach out to touch her and the glass between us ripples thickly. She is carried away by many small waves , leaving behind the reflection I am use to. I whisper her name, my name, but she doesn't return. I lean closer to the water, and my grip becomes slippery. I slide until I barely hang from the boulder, and I am not strong enough to pull myself back up. I let go. The rock dissappears from beneath me and I am swallowed by icy water, momentarily parylized. I open my eyes and all that I can see is glistening light from the sun as it dances on th surface. All I can hear is a whisper and it tells me that the girl is now above me, crouching on the slick rock, trying to recognize the girl she would someday be. My lungs beg for airand I feel the sensation return to my limbs, pleading me to swim up to the sparkling surface, but I fight away from the light. The girl is now above me, and I do not want to meet her past the glass because I know that we were never meant to touch. She is my past, I am her future and we are forever held apart by four years worth of thick, fogged glass. Due to our fear, she dreads my existence and I try to forget about hers. One person, two different personalities, the split-mind of a growing girl and a young woman. I am her, she is me.'
THANKS FOR READING!
-VAN
this is the better extended version... 720 words.... the version I submitted was 500 I did A LOT of word changing and turned every word that could be a contraction, into a contraction =D THIS IS THE FINAL COPY
I feel the ridges of rock beneath beneath my toes, the sun bearing down on my back, the breeze that tease my hair. The water stretches like untouched glass. I see my silhouette. The girl through the liquid glass isn't me. We're similar, tall, knobby-kneed with only one dimple. There's so much more that makes us different. I see it in her curious eyes, my eyes show speculation, my shoulders slouch. I lean forward for a better look, she does too, we're face-to-face. We could be sisters. She's younger, her face round with messy make-up and long tang-ly hair. My smooth flat-ironed hair brushes my shoulders. She's a like me, an average, nothing memorable but I remember the shape and green-ish color and they fall into place like a tetris game. We met four years ago, in my blotchy, bathroom mirror everyday. I'd hated her pointed nose and stringy hair. Now I hated her for taunting me with her naive eyes. Foster Care: just random words to her, to me it's a past sticking like a burr. Despite resentment, I feel motherly affection. Her eyes are young and curious, terrified of her future. She's lonely, friendless... she cries every night. Her face is too gaunt and gray-eyed to belong to a thirteen year old girl. I suddenly feel guilt, it tastes like peroxide. I've taken so much for granted lately. I once prided myself in being able to do without and now I lean on vanity. I've selfishly complained, when all my life has done since I was taken from Mom is get clearer, richer in color. The girl I see is barely thirteen and she fights to walk on water without drowning. I'm seventeen and I walk on solid rock. I lay on my belly, the rock grinds into my ribs but I ignore it. I reach to touch her and the glass between us ripples. She's carried away by small waves, leaving behind my reflection . I whisper my name, but she doesn't return. I lean closer and my grip becomes slippery. I slip until I barely hang from the boulder, and I'm not strong enough to pull myself back up. The rock dissappears from beneath me, I'm swallowed by icy water, parylized. I open my eyes and all that I see is glistening light from the sun dancing on the surface. All I hear is a whisper, it tells me the girl is now above me, crouching on the rock, trying to recognize the girl she'd someday be. My lungs plead me to swim up to the surface, but I fight away from the light. The girl is above me, I don't want to meet her because I know that we're never meant to touch. She's my past, I'm her future and we're forever held apart by four years worth of fogged glass. She dreads my existence, I try to forget hers. We're the split-mind of a growing girl and a young woman. I'm her, she's me.