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#Post#: 5494--------------------------------------------------
Re: Short stories
DIR By: iiLuvNerds
Date: July 15, 2013, 5:17 pm
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Great job ;D
#Post#: 5500--------------------------------------------------
Re: Short stories
DIR By: xoxRazzlingShiningxox
Date: July 15, 2013, 5:23 pm
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--- Quote from: iiLuvNerds link ---
>
> Great job ;D
>
--- End Quote ---
#Post#: 5787--------------------------------------------------
Re: Short stories
DIR By: ruasista2
Date: July 18, 2013, 4:11 am
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I love writing short stories. Thank you so much for making this
post. I know Christmas has long since passed by I have fond
memories of events that happened during our family times and I
usually jot things down so that I can remember them and tell my
friends here in my blogs. This is something that I wrote last
Christmas but I hope you enjoy it now as well.
Christmas and My Family
I just wanted to share my Christmas with my WW friends so I
decided to write it in a blog instead of giving everyone bits
and pieces .. My mom wanted me to leave my laptop at home so I
could focus on my family , She also took my cellphone too ..it
was okay because I have some very interesting relatives that are
quite animated .We got there To Uncle Ellicks house around 2pm
on Christmas eve We would have been there earlier but the
weather was so bad . we ran into a bad storm .we were the last
to arrive so it was hardly any space to put our things . It was
so much screaming and crying going on with the kids, My lill
cousin Melba was sitting in the middle of the floor in front of
the TV coloring the carpet with a black magic marker and sucking
on it to make it write more i guess .. Uncle ellick was
intensely watching the game so much so that all he yelled to my
dad was "get ur Ass-over here the game is on" no one was even
looking at Melba . All the women were in the kitchen talking
about what to cook while terrence was bringing in groceries ..
All the boys were in the basement being bad .. playing double
double dare cooking crap in the microwave and daring anyone to
eat it they even took the goldfish out the tank and nuked it in
a bowl with an egg ,, needless to say it exploded .. but in the
house it seemed no one cared. After dinner we all sat around
with Grandma Marjorie laughing at uncle Pat make jokes about us
kids and our war stories .. then without blinking on my very
first night My mom announced that terence and i would be happy
to watch the kids while they went out on the town .. I was
floored .. How could they offer My services without asking me ?
I wanted to see chicago too . I wanted to get away from the
little savages too . So while they were gone i filled them up
with all the juice, water , koolaid anything they wanted to
drink , and i let them fall asleep anywhere they wanted to. As
long as terrence and i had a dry place to sleep we didn't care
about the pending Niagara falls , well it was not a dry spot in
the house by the time they got home .. Terrence and i cuddled up
on out air mattress and put the movie in pretending to be
sleep.. lol .. it wasn't my plan to be in chicago for christmas
it was mty family so We decided to share Christmas in Chicago at
Uncle Ellick’s this year because they all came to our house for
thanksgiving . By the time everyone got there, there was 23
children and 11 adults all crammed up in a 7 bedroom house. We
did this all because of one person ,, Grandma Marjorie. She is
one of those Ivory soap and oatmeal cookie grandmas. She had an
eye for “flash and trash” accessories in her day and always
dressed to the nines. She raised four of the biggest smartasses
to ever tread the Earth’s surface – my dad , and my uncles,
Ellick , Pat, and Ned. Mom and the other ladies decided to cook
dinner and keep her out of the kitchen because she is becoming a
bit senile .. Grandma was struggling with the idea that she was
not in charge of Operation Loaves and Fishes as she always
called Christmas dinner .. She kept sneaking in and out of the
kitchen to offer Mom helpful advice … whether Mom wanted it or
not. The rice needed butter. The turkey needed a little more
basting. The pie needed cinnamon. I just laughed everytime she
came in .. Mom asked my uncles to distract her, but apparently,
Grandma was wilier than they gave her credit for. When Mom took
the dressing out of the oven and set it on the stove, she turned
her back to direct my cousins and me to peel what seemed like a
metric ton tons of potatoes for dinner . Behind her, Grandma had
ambled into the kitchen and put a pot of water on the stove to
boil and accidentally turned on the wrong burner — the one under
the container of dressing. Distracted by the calls of my uncles,
Grandma shuffled silently out of the kitchen like a ninja in
StrideRite shoes, forgetting to check what burner she turned on.
We all noticed the smoke about ten minutes later. Shrieking, Mom
grabbed two oven mitts and whisked the smoldering side dish from
the stove. through the back door onto the porch , when the cool
air hit the hot glass, and the casserole dish exploded. I
laughed so hard just looking at the expression on my Mom’s face
as she clutched two casserole dish ends in her hands and
screamed at the lump of molten dressing laying there on the
porch. The rest of the brood came running as Mom fell to her
knees and let loose a string of expletives that made an episode
of The Sopranos sound like Sesame Street. Grandma tipped outside
to look and just patted my mom on the head and said, Don’t
worry, honey, we’ll pick the glass out, and it will be just
fine. Grandma Marjorie was very busy that night , because
despite all efforts to keep her from the kitchen lots of the
meal had a peculiar taste especially the red velvet cake.. we
didn’t discover until people started to appear to be bleeding at
the mouth that she had emptied the whole bottle of red food
coloring into the batter .. For the record, we didn’t eat the
glassy-riddled dressing. My dad and my aunt Carrie searched
every gas station kwike mart until they found the last boxes of
stovetop in Chicago . I just love it when we all get together
because I know that it will always be something to remember
..Sleeping arrangements were rather special, …My brother’s
tarantula getting blown up by Rusty was awesome.. playing pranks
on each other It was all great . I love my family for all they
are worth I’m not going to say how much tho…hahaha. I hope you
all had great memories too .
#Post#: 5798--------------------------------------------------
Re: Short stories
DIR By: xoxRazzlingShiningxox
Date: July 18, 2013, 4:02 pm
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awesome Ivy
#Post#: 9183--------------------------------------------------
Re: Short stories
DIR By: ruasista2
Date: August 6, 2013, 10:56 am
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My Best Friend
It’s been… well how long has it been? Soon 6 years since he
died. He was my best and only friend for three years. Well, we
were friends for almost 6 years, but when we moved and he moved
with me and my family, he became my only friend. I was always
bullied at school, and my only comfort in life was him. I loved,
no I still love him. My dearest and most important friend.
We met when he was 1, and I was about 5 years old. We didn’t
become friends right away though. The first time we met he
actually bit my hand. But I was a stubborn child and I refused
to let that chase me away, after all, I had taken an interest in
him. So the next day I went back to meet with him, but he just
bit me again, but I kept coming back because I liked him. He was
cute and I wanted to make friends with him. I kept coming back,
day after day, and in the end he gave after. I gave him an apple
as a sign of friendship; apparently I wasn’t the only one that
thought apples were the greatest thing in the world. He ate it
happily up and snuggled close to me. I was really happy. We
started doing everything together; we took baths together, ate
together, took walks together and went out to play together.
Every day, we would go out on an adventure looking for bugs and
other critters. I love animals and I always wanted to make
friends with them. However my favourite thing to do, except
playing with my best friend, was fishing, although he didn’t
like water or the blood from the fish, he still went with me.
That was one of the many things that made us such close friends.
We grew up together in that small apartment we had.
But one day we had to move away. My mother lost her job and to
get a new one she had to move away. But luckily my best friend
in the whole wide world came with us. I didn’t really fit in
with the other children at school, I didn’t like them at all,
and I was often bullied. At some point I changed school even,
but it was no use. I still got bullied at the new school and the
only light in my day was my friend. We started going down to the
ocean more than we had before, not always to fish though. We
used to just sit on the rocks and watch how the waves swayed
back and forth so carefree of the world. We used to vanish into
our own little dream world. I dreamed of becoming the sea, then
I too could be carefree, but I think he only dreamed of food. It
was his favourite thing, and just for him, I always brought some
apples whenever we went out. We were content with our lives when
it was just the two of us and the ever carefree ocean. Days kept
going like this for two years, I went to school where I was
bullied and beat up, I came home and I ran over to him, I picked
him up and we both went out. Whenever winter came along we
stayed inside because it was too cold to go out. But then we had
to move again. I was happy to get away from the bullies, but I
was afraid that I might not live close to the sea so I couldn’t
go and watch the waves anymore. But I made up my mind, no matter
where I moved to me and my best friend would always be happy
together. And we were. We still lived close enough to the ocean,
but it didn’t really matter as much as I thought, because I had
my best friend with me. He was 5 ½ years old and I was 9 ½
years. Because of my dialect I was still bullied, but I made
some “almost friends”. They weren’t really good friends, but
they were fun to hang with at school. But my thoughts were
always with my very best friend. I used to plan what we were
going to do once I got home, and when I did get home I spent the
rest of my day with him. He became the most important friend I
have had, and most likely there will never come another one that
will be more important to me than him. Every day I talked to
him, and he would listen to me, he held all of my secrets and he
knew everything there was to know about me. But… that is
probably the saddest word I know of. The word “but,” is the one
word that can turn what was supposed to be a happy story into a
heartbreak. I guess I have to finish the story though, even if
that word is there. But as all living things do, he too died.
Some weeks before, he had gotten very sick and on the 14th of
December 2007 on a Friday, my dad came to pick me up at school,
I was eleven and my friend was almost seven years old. He said
that my friend’s sickness was really bad and that he might die
any time soon. I hurried to the car, skipping school and
everything. As soon as we arrived at the house I ran inside. I
hurried to his cage to pick him up. There he was, in the usual
spot, that part of the cage where I always picked him up from.
But he wasn’t breathing. My eyes got all watery as I picked him
up only to discover that he was already dead. Tears started
pouring out from my eyes and I couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I should have been here, I should have
seen it coming!” the words could barely get out from between all
the tears. My heart was completely broken. My best friend was
dead. I knew quite well he was just a Guinea pig, but to me he
had become something so much more. And he was everything to me.
I stroke my finger up and down his nose the way he liked it. His
fur became wet from all the tears that fell down from my cheeks.
I kept saying I’m sorry over and over again. I knew it wasn’t my
fault he had died, nature goes its way, what I was apologising
for was that when he had expected me to be there for him, to
come and pick him up, but I didn’t come before it was too late.
He had died alone, when I should have been there. He had always
been there for me, but when he really needed me, I wasn’t there
for him. I stayed home from school the following week, all I did
was cry and cry. We had buried him the same day he had died; I
had put down an apple next to him before covering him in dirt
never to be seen again. A nice little apple tree had started
growing there, but the little sprout soon died because of the
cold. It made me sad to see it die, since I wanted it to be his
headstone, or headtree… but I didn’t need anything like that to
always remember him. I just need to look at the ocean and
remember when we dreamed together.
#Post#: 9191--------------------------------------------------
Re: Short stories
DIR By: xoxRazzlingShiningxox
Date: August 6, 2013, 11:50 am
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oh dear Ivy they are long but I love them both
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