Monday 17 June 2013

Short Story

So, I took a course called Writer's Craft, and our culminating assignment was to write a story based of the pictures created by Harris Burdick. Getting it back I did pretty freaking well, and I'm proud of that. So, everyday I will post a part of my story (revised since I got it back of course) and want you guys to tell me what you think!

PLUS: I want you guys to submit me your very own Harris Burdick stories HERE for a chance to be featured in a special blog! DEADLINE is July 15.



The Third Floor Bedroom
            She looked up at the sun, forever shining in her little town of Wilfred. She knew she had to get back home, her mom was waiting for her, but she didn’t care. The beach was where she felt most at home. Her real ‘home’ held a depressed mother and a distant father, but it had only been like that since her older sister Eliza died of the fever.
            She looked at a dove that was sunbathing not three feet away from her. The little doves’ presence evoked warm memories of the days before Eliza’s death. While she stared intently at the dove and said, “Mama used to be happy. She used to laugh and sing and dance.” She paused and spoke again, “Papa used to put on plays for us. They both used to be happy.” She sat in silence for a while, but spoke again. “Eliza’s favourite birds were doves she thought they were beautiful. She would’ve liked you very much.”
            With a sad sigh, the girl gathered up her things and started the short walk home. When she arrived, she stopped and looked at her house. “What a mess!” She exclaimed forlornly. “It used to be full of flowers and happiness, now it’s full of weeds and despair.” She stared at the dead garden by her front porch.
            She crept up the stairs in case her mother was sleeping – that happened a lot now - she quietly opened the door. Whilst closing it, heard her mother weeping. “Mama? Mama, are you alright? I’m okay, I’m back!” But the crying continued. Eliza had died two months ago, and her mother had wept everyday since.
            The girl went upstairs to find her mother sitting in her sister’s room, holding the dress Eliza was to wear on her birthday. Her birthday! The girl remembered that Eliza would have been twelve today. “Mama, please come lay down, I’ll make you a cup of tea,” she offered and within moments, her mother was tucked into bed sound asleep.
            The girl went upstairs and looked in her sister’s room. To her amazement the dove that was with her at the beach was now sitting on her sister’s window sill. She opened the window and said, “Hello again, little bird.” She looked at it thoughtfully she remembered when her sister first became sick. She remembered how her mother fussed every day until Eliza died, and how crushed she was when she had to bury her first child. Yes, Eliza had caused a lot of pain, but the girl knew that God had called her sister home, and that things would get better - they would have to.

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