Chloe – Part V

The final part in the Chloe story! Please let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy it. Click for Part I, Part II, Part III, and Part IV.

Jen and I slipped into the living room after dinner while our parents were talking. I heard her flop down on the couch. “Your parents are so going to let you go to public school.”

I snorted. “What makes you say that?”

“They’re practically hanging on my parents’ every word,” she pointed out. “They’re not really exchanging notes on raising blind kids. It’s more like they’re asking my parents for advice.”

I thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’ll be awesome if they let me go to Thatcher.”

“You have a crush on John, don’t you?” she teased, laughing.

“What makes you say that?” I asked, surprised. Nobody really knows how to read my feelings, not even my parents most of the time.

She giggled. “Hey, I’m a fellow blind person. I can tell what others have on their minds a lot of the time. You’re hoping you’ll get to go to Thatcher to be with John.”

“And…” I prompted.

“And because you want to be normal,” she added, a bit of the levity falling out of her voice. “You know that it won’t really happen, right?”

“I know,” I replied, sighing. “But it’s not just being normal, I also want my parents to just treat me like I’m normal.”

I heard her sigh. “It took my parents a while to do that. They have to learn, just like you have to learn how to respond to change in your own way. Sometimes it’s really hard for them to realize that they can’t hold on to their image of you as a poor blind girl and that they have to let go.” She took a deep breath and let go. “You have to let go of that false identity, too. You can’t let the label ‘blind’ define you your entire life.”

I nodded slowly, then remembered that she couldn’t see me. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Chloe, Jen!” my mom called from the dining room. “Could you girls come in here?”

We walked into the dining room, which my mom had dressed up really nice for our guests. One of her fancy tablecloths had been laid out, along with the nice silverware and real china, well, for everybody except me. My mom didn’t really trust me around breakable things.

“Chloe,” my dad began, “we’ve been talking to Jen’s parents about how you want to go to public school, and they’ve given us lots of helpful tips. They think that you’re probably responsible enough to be able to go to public school, so…” He took a deep breath. “We’ve decided to let you go to public school at Thatcher this year.”

“Really?” I asked, hiding my excitement.

“Yes,” my mom told me. “You know that this will be a really big commitment, right? You’ll have to work very hard on your schoolwork and keep your grades up, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I agreed. I couldn’t believe that I was actually going to public school.

———-

I walked carefully down the high school hallway, my cane tapping gently against the lockers. My first week at Thatcher had been a tough one, but I had mostly figured out how to get around the school. Most of my classes were pretty easy, since, with my mom’s homeschooling, I was a little ahead of the class. My teachers were really nice, too, and super helpful. Most of the kids acted like my cane was poisonous or like I had a disease or something, avoiding me. I didn’t mind that much. I still hadn’t made any friends, but being a loner didn’t bother me.

A locker slammed almost directly in front of me. I went wide around the area where the locker had slammed to avoid running into the person. I felt a foot hit my shin, and I stumbled, slamming into the hard floor. Laughter rang out around me. I could feel my face burning.

“You need to learn how to walk, blind kid,” a taunting voice said to my left. Giggles reached my ears. I felt somebody grab my shoulders and yank me up off the floor. The next thing I knew, I lost my breath as he slammed me into a locker. There was more laughter, and I could feel the anger bubbling up inside of me.

“Leave her alone, Brian,” a slightly familiar-sounding voice called, and I heard footsteps approaching. The guy holding me, Brian, I guess, loosened his grip and stepped back.

“I was just messing around,” he protested.

“Whatever,” the voice snorted. “Are you okay, Chloe?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, John,” I replied.

“How’d you know who it was?” Brian asked, surprised.

John nudged me with his elbow. “She has a built-in voice recognition system, right?”

I laughed. “Yeah.” John led me down the hall towards the front door. “Thanks,” I whispered in his ear.

“No prob,” he told me. “Besides, what are friends for?”

The End

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Chloe – Part IV

This short story is one of my favorites, but it’s fourteen pages long, so I’ll be posting it in parts. Please let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy! Click for Part I, Part II, and Part III.

“Hi, Mom,” I said cheerfully as I slid into my seat at the dining room table. “What’s for dinner?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” she replied. I could smell the sauce and the pasta in the air, but I knew she liked it when I asked, like a normal kid, instead of saying something like, “Oh, I love spaghetti and meatballs!” Sometimes it makes her uncomfortable when I show how much I can figure out without my eyesight.

“I’m home!” my dad called, slamming the door into the garage. I heard him clomp into the kitchen. “Hi, honey,” he said to my mom. I heard them kiss and could barely keep from gagging. He came over to the kitchen table. “Hi, Chloe. How was your day?” He leaned over and hugged me.

“Good,” I told him. “I got a lot done.”

“Good,” he replied. I could hear a smile in his voice. Unlike my mom, he didn’t treat me like I was fragile all the time. He treated me like a normal person.

“I went for a walk in the park down the street, and I met a blind girl,” I told him. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. “She was really nice. I was wondering if you could convince Mom to let her and her parents come over sometime. I’d really like to get to know her better.” I knew my dad would at least mention it to my mom, and, if he agreed, he’d convince her, too. She always listened to him.

“Sure, Chloe,” he agreed. “It sounds great. I’m glad you’re getting to know other blind people. It’ll be good for you and probably pretty helpful.”

You have no idea, I thought. “Yeah, you’re probably right, Dad,” I said aloud.

He grinned. “You know I am.”

———-

Later that night, when I was up in my room, my mom came and sat on the end of my bed. “Be sure to tell your friend that she and her parents can come over tomorrow night for dinner,” she reminded me.

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied, hiding my grin. I was so happy that everything was working out. My mom kissed my forehead, then, after a short pause, left the room and went downstairs. I reached for the phone and punched in John’s number.

“Hello?” a high female voice asked when I picked up the phone. I frowned. This was definitely not John, and it didn’t sound like Jen. I gulped.

“Hi, can I talk to John?” I asked nervously.

“Who is this?” the lady asked suspiciously.

“Tell him that it’s Chloe,” I replied, trying to sound pleasant. Really, I was nervous, but I tried not to let it show.

There was a long pause as I heard the person on the other end set down the phone. “Okay, he’s coming,” she told me.

A few seconds later John came on the phone. “Hi, Chloe, sorry about that,” he told me.

“Who was that?” I asked curiously.

“Oh, that was my aunt, Jen’s mom,” he replied. “Okay, we just moved into my room, and I now have you on speaker phone so Jen can hear too.”

“Great,” I said.

“So how’d it go?” Jen asked impatiently.

I laughed. “You and your parents are officially invited to dinner at our house tomorrow night,” I told her.

“Awesome!” she exclaimed. “Did they give any specific reasons?”

“My dad said that he thinks it’s great for me to get to know other blind kids, and it’s apparently helpful for them to get to talk to other parents with blind kids.”

She laughed. “Yeah, that’s what my parents say. I guess we’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Chloe – Part III

This short story is one of my favorites, but it’s fourteen pages long, so I’ll be posting it in parts. Please let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy! Click for Part I and Part II.

The next day I was at the park bench again, waiting eagerly and listening for the sound of John’s footsteps. I had left the house while my mom was out with some of her friends, so I had easily made it out of the house. Finally, I heard John’s footsteps, along with another pair of footsteps that I didn’t recognize. They stopped right in front of me.

“Hi, Chloe. I already found an open picnic table. You ready?” John asked.

“Yeah.” I stood up. “Who’s with you?” I asked.

“I told you that she’d notice.” The girl’s voice had a hint of laughter in it.

“Yeah,” John agreed reluctantly. “Chloe, this is my cousin that I told you about, Jennifer. Jen, this is Chloe… oh, I don’t know your last name.”

“Caldwell,” I told him.

“Chloe Caldwell,” John repeated, grinning.

“Nice to meet you,” I told Jen.

“You too,” she replied. “Are you guys ready to get started?”

“Yeah,” John told her. “Chloe, Jen’s going to help us out. She’s had a lot of experience with these sorts of things, especially with her in the same situation as you.” We strolled over to the picnic table that John had picked. I explained everything to Jennifer that had happened, about my argument with my mom. I could tell that she understood.

We reached the picnic table and sat down. I heard Jennifer rest her elbows on the table. “Do you have any ideas, Jennifer?” I asked.

“Ugh. Please, just call me Jen. Only teachers call me Jennifer. Although my parents call me Jennifer when they’re mad, too.” I heard her lean forward, her arms brushing against the table. “My parents were the same as yours when I decided that I wanted to go to public school. I think that it might help if your parents could talk to my parents about this.”

“Do you really think that would help?” I asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Jen replied. “So, how are you going to get our parents together?”

I thought for a second, and then an idea popped into my head. “I guess I can just ask my mom if a blind friend and her parents could come to dinner some night. I know they like talking to other parents with blind kids. And she encourages me to be friends with other blind people, so it’ll probably work.”

“Sounds good,” Jen agreed. “Why don’t you do that, and then you can call us and tell us how it goes.” She slipped a small sheet of paper to me. I felt Braille numbers on it. “Here’s my number,” she told me. “John knows how to set up a conference call, so we can all talk at the same time.”

“Got it,” I said. “I’ll go get to work.”

Chloe – Part II

This short story is one of my favorites, but it’s fourteen pages long, so I’ll be posting it in parts. Please let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy! Click here for Part I.

Silence. I could imagine him gaping at me. The silence only lasted about thirty seconds before he spoke. “That explains it.”

I was confused. “Explains what?”

“Explains why you weren’t making eye contact while we were talking.” I could hear the smile in his voice, and my jaw dropped. He must’ve notice the surprised look on my face. “What’s wrong?”

It’s just…” I hesitated. “Most people act totally different towards me when they find out that I’m blind. They either ignore me because they don’t know how to react, or they treat me like a little kid or like I’m made out of glass. But, you—you’re acting exactly the same!”

He laughed again. “”My cousin’s blind, so I’ve learned a lot about all of that. She hates it when people treat her different just because she’s blind. So I’ve gotten practice with treating her ‘normal’.” He paused. “It sounds like your mom could use a couple lessons in that.”

“Definitely,” I told him, and began telling him everything that had happened, up until he had sat on the bench.

“Whoa,” he said, interrupting me. “So your mom doesn’t know where you are?”

“Uh, no,” I admitted reluctantly.

“You’d better get home before your mom goes nuts. It’s already been about half an hour.”

“I guess so.” I sighed, standing up. I wasn’t looking forward to going home.

I heard him stand up, too. “I’ll walk you home.”

“I don’t need any help!” I snapped.

He laughed. “I know. But, from what you said, I think we live in the same neighborhood. I’m heading that way anyway.”

I could feel the heat rising on my face. “Oh,” was all I could say. I hesitated. “I’m sorry for snapping at you— wait, I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m John,” he told me. “I don’t know your name either.”

“I’m Chloe.”

We walked back over towards my house. John was great, not trying to help me unless I asked him to. We talked on the way home, too, and found out that we had a lot in common, especially a love for books and reading.

“So, do you use audio books to read?” he asked as we strolled down the street. I nodded. There was a long pause, just the sound of our footsteps and the tap-tap of my long feeler-cane. He finally broke the silence.

“I was just wondering, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but why are you blind?”

I’d never really talked to anyone about being blind or anything like that. This was new territory for me. But I realized that I didn’t mind opening up to John; it felt like we had known each other for ages. So I told him. “I was born blind.”

“So you’ve never been able to see?” he asked. I nodded. “Same with my cousin. What number is your house?” He changed the subject abruptly.

“368.” I had memorized it a long time ago.

“Then it’s this next house,” he told me. “I only live about four houses down. Do you have one of those scanners that reads books and things?” I nodded. “Then here’s my number. Call me later and let me know how it goes.” He pushed a slip of paper into my hand, and then I heard him jog ahead of me down the street. My cane thumped against the familiar wooden fence. I hoped I wouldn’t get in too much trouble.

As soon as I opened the front door, my mom was hugging me and crying into my hair. “Oh, Chloe,” she sobbed. “I was so worried. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mom. See, I’m fine,” I insisted.

“I know, but that was very irresponsible of you. What if something had happened to you? Why don’t you go to your room for a little while.” I nodded and went up to my room without any fuss.

I guess my mom doesn’t realize that my room is my favorite room in the whole house. I spend most of my time in it, and all of my gadgets are in there: my book scanner, talking computer (I named the voice ‘Bob’), and my Braille books. I read the Braille books sometimes, but other times I like to just listen to the books.

When I got into my room, I pulled out my book scanner and scanned John’s number into my computer. “Bob” read off the numbers to me, and I pressed them into the phone. I waited while it rang.

“Hello?” It sounded like him, but I figured that I should check.

“Hi, this is Chloe. Can I talk to John?”

“Oh, it’s me, Chloe. So…” He was waiting.

“It wasn’t too bad. She was super upset when I got home, so she sent me to my room as punishment, except it’s not a punishment for me.”

He laughed. “Yeah, I guess not. Do you spend most of your time in your room?”

“Yeah. All of my gadgets are in it.” I couldn’t figure out what to say next, and I guess John couldn’t either, because an awkward silence followed. I searched for something to say, but I couldn’t think of anything. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.

“Okay, now that’s what I call an awkward silence,” he finally said. I laughed, relieved. “Did you ask about going to school again?”

“No. She was too upset. She would definitely not have reacted well.”

“Do you want to meet at the park tomorrow so we can try to figure out how to convince her?” he asked.

“Really? I mean, you’d help me?” I was surprised.

“Yes, of course. So, what time do you want to meet tomorrow?”

Chloe – Part I

This short story is one of my favorites, but it’s fourteen pages long, so I’ll be posting it in parts. Please let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy!

I flopped down on my oversized bean bag on the floor of my room. I was completely bored. Summer was almost over, and it had been like every other summer of my entire life. I had hardly left the house, mostly because my mom wouldn’t let me go anywhere. She was always worried that something would happen to her “poor little Chloe”. That, and I didn’t have any friends to do anything with. I had hoped that this summer would be different, since I had just finished my freshman year of high school.

I could hear the kids across the street playing, and wished, for the millionth time, that I could be normal like them. It was a wish I knew could never come true, but I still wished anyway.

“Chloe?” I heard my mom call from behind the door.

“Come in,” I responded. I heard her open the door and walk in. The bed creaked when she sat on the edge. People say that she’s pretty. I just love her soft voice.

“What did you want to talk about, sweetie?” Mom asked. My sensitive ears picked up the curiosity and worry in her voice.

“Mom, do you think that I could go to public or private school this year? I think I’m ready to stop home schooling.” I immediately sensed her tensing up. Just great.

“Oh, honey, I think it might be better if we home school for a few more years. High schools are hard enough to get around in even if you can see. For a blind girl,” she hesitated, “they can be really dangerous.”

“But, Mom—” I began, and then stopped. I took the whine out of my voice and started over again. “You know that I’m not totally defenseless! I could figure it out.”

“Chloe…” My mom paused, and then continued reluctantly. “It’s not just that. A lot of times kids alienate people who are different.” She sighed. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, either physically, mentally, or emotionally.”

I could feel the anger rising in my chest. “Mom, you can’t protect me my entire life. Just because I’m blind, you try to keep the world away from me! I don’t need you to do that! I can handle it. I’m older. How am I going to learn if you’re always trying to shield me from everything?” I was shouting now, and I couldn’t stop. “You won’t even let me leave the house! I feel like a prisoner in my own house!” Finally, I ran out of breath. I grabbed my cane, the one I use to help me feel my way around, and stormed out of the room and out of the house. I could hear my mom calling me, but I ignored her and kept going. I could feel the hot, angry tears streaming down my face.

I walked to the end of the block and stopped. The only times I had ever left my house, we had been in a car, going on trips or to doctor’s appointments, and I had no idea where I was going. I could tell that I was at an intersection, but I had no idea where. I heard someone push the crossing button on the pole.

“Excuse me?” I called.

“Yes?” It was a woman’s voice, clear and strong.

“Is there a park or anything around here?” I asked. I figured that a park would be a good place to sit and think.

“Sure,” the lady responded. “I’ll take you there.” She led me across the street by my arm. I went with her reluctantly. I really just needed her to tell me where it was, not take me there, but I followed her anyway.

“Here it is,” she told me. “Turn left here and you’ll be in the park.”

“Thank you so much,” I thanked her.

“No problem. It was on my way anyway.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “Will you be able to find your way home?”

“Yes. Thanks again,” I told her and turned down the path, the sand and pebbles crunching under my feet. The birds were singing, and I could hear squirrels scampering in the trees. My cane hit something hard. I felt it and realized that it was a park bench. I sat down on it and started thinking. I was so deep in thought that I didn’t hear the footsteps approaching my bench, not even when they stopped right in front of me.

“Hi, can I sit down here?” The young male voice startled me, interrupting my thoughts. I turned towards his voice.

“Sure,” I told him. I heard him sit at the other end of the bench. I felt pretty uncomfortable.

“Did I surprise you?” he asked. I could feel his eyes on me.

“A little,” I admitted. “I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t hear you coming.” I didn’t know if he had noticed that I was blind yet. If he hadn’t, he probably would soon.

“Are you in high school? I’ve never seen you at Thatcher.” He seemed genuinely curious.

“Yeah, I’m in high school, but I’m home schooled,” I told him.

“Oh,” he paused. I could tell he wasn’t sure what to say next. You don’t have to see to know these things. “So, let me guess. You’re a… junior?”

I laughed. “No.” I’m going to be a sophomore this year.” I hesitated. “So, what grade are you in?”

“I’m a junior.” He paused again. “So, do you like home schooling?”

“It’s okay, most of the time. But sometimes I wish my parents would let me go to public school,” I confessed. “So you go to Thatcher?” I asked quickly, changing the subject. “What are you involved in? Sports?”

“I play a little football and baseball,” he replied, seeming eager to change the subject again. “Wait, why won’t your parents let you go to Thatcher?”

“Because my mom thinks that I’ll get teased and trampled and everything. She’d be worried sick about her ‘little girl’ in the ‘huge high school’.”

He laughed. “Thatcher’s not that big. Anyway, why’s your mom so worried about you at high school? I mean, there’re lots of girls at Thatcher who are smaller than you, and they survive. And it’s pretty easy to get around Thatcher, once you figure it out. So why’s she so worried about you?”

I gulped. I had been expecting this moment, when I would have to tell him that I was blind, but I still didn’t know what to say. So I just blurted it out. “Because I’m blind.”

Interviews from the Writer’s Desk – Iris O’Gara

This is another of the characters from my Teen Warriors series that I’m working on, which is the same series that Haven Agnelli is in. Please note that all characters are subject to change. 😉 Enjoy, and please let me know what you think in the comments below.

———

I press the intercom button on my desk. “Benedict? Do you have the schedule for today?”
The device crackles. “Yes, Bri. Do you want me to come in?”
“Yes, please,” I reply.
Benedict enters my office, a sheet of paper in his hand. I raise an eyebrow at my secretary. “Is that all of the schedule?” I ask.
He nods. “Just some paperwork and the interview with Iris O’Gara.”
I sigh. Another boring day. At least I’ll have time to work on more stories. As long as I don’t start playing Solitaire on my laptop. “Do you know when she’ll be here?”
“She’s outside waiting right now,” he tells me.
“Oh! Well, then, send her in,” I say. Benedict nods and leaves the office. I begin preparing for the interview. The door opens again and I look up, expecting to see Iris, but instead, Benedict is standing in the doorway. He walks over and sits down in the chair in front of my desk, normally reserved for interviews.
“Benedict?” I ask, confused. “Where’s Iris?”
“Unfortunately, I can only do optical illusions,” Benedict says in a laughing female voice. “Otherwise I would enjoy this longer”
The next instant, Benedict transforms into a pretty teenage girl. Her long, wavy dark brown hair, creamy brown skin, and sparkling green eyes give her a somewhat exotic look. She smiles at me, her eyes twinkling. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.”
I grin. “That’s okay. You must be Iris.” I start taking notes on her appearance. Unlike her friend and partner, Haven, she’s not very tall; a little less than average height, I’d say. “Are you ready for our interview?”
Iris smiles. “You bet I am. Haven told me some of the questions you asked her, so I’ve given them some thought.”
“Good,” I tell her. “I’ll probably use most of the same questions, although I may add in some others.” She nods. “Okay, first question. How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” she says, grinning.
“Can you tell me about your family?”
“I’m tied for the second youngest in my family. I have two older brothers, a twin brother, and a younger brother. All of us are at least two years apart, except me and my twin. And, yes, I grew up in a house full of noisy boys. My oldest brother, Calo, is twenty-three, five years older than me, and my other older brother, Lory, is twenty, two years older than me. Then there’s Ozel, my twin, who’s younger than me by two minutes, and Yemo, the youngest at fifteen. Yemo’s the quietest, while all the others are really rowdy. WE grew up roughhousing together, so that’s what I blame my competitive spirit and troublesomeness on. My mom died while giving birth to Yemo, so my dad raised us. He worked a lot, but he always found time to take care of us and spend time with us. Our aunt came to the house whenever we needed a babysitter, so she was a lot like a replacement mom.” Iris smiled as she finished. “Sorry. My family’s so big that I can talk about them for ages.”
I smile. “That’s perfectly fine.” I check my question list. “Any more to your back story I should know.”
She shakes her head. “Not really.”
“Okay, then, what is your Gift and its limitations?” I grin. “Although I already know some of it.”
She laughs. “I can create optical illusions. They can be as simple as a shadow on a while or a spot on the floor, or as big as a whole army of soldiers, with the occasional unicorn or giant mixed in. I can change my appearance, and other people’s, and I can make things invisible, too. My only limits are that anything I create isn’t solid, it’s just an illusion. So if I make a sword, yes, I can “hold” it, but it certainly won’t hurt anybody. Same with that mythical army. And, like I mentioned earlier, I can only do optical illusions.”
I nod, finishing my notes. “How would you honestly describe your personality?”
Iris purses her lips thoughtfully. “I guess I could say that I’m kind of… reckless, I guess. I’ve never done anything horrible, but I find it hard to turn down a dare. Danger kind of excites me, and sometimes I’m accused of not thinking very much before I do something. I’m always up for an adventure or a practical joke, and I have a good sense of humor. I’m definitely –” she laughs “ –outgoing, and cheerful, and I’m pretty good at being friendly and nice. My dad always says I’m the perfect hostess.”
“What are some of your faults or bad characteristics?” I ask.
Iris smirks. “Well, I definitely don’t think things through very much before I act sometimes. Like I said, I’m pretty reckless, and I’m often over-confident. Sometimes I’m so curious I become a pest, and many, many people have described me as overbearing, annoying, and thoughtless. I can be loud, too, and sometimes my outgoing-ness bothers others, although I try to balance that out by being friendly.”
“What are your strengths?” I ask her, grabbing another sheet of paper. I’m getting plenty of good notes.
“Well,” she begins, “I guess I’m brave, and I always try to be friendly and meet new people and make them feel comfortable. I always finish what I start, and put my whole heart into what I do. I’m crafty, sneaky, and sly, which is useful when I need to spy.”
“Last one,” I announced. “What is the Name the King gave you?”
Iris nods, grinning. “The Illusion.”
I grin back at her. “Thanks so much for this interview. It was great to meet you.”
She smiles. “You’re welcome. And sorry about the Benedict thing. I’m a bit of a practical joker.”
I laugh. “No apology needed. I enjoyed that.”
Time to get back to work on the boring stuff.

The Answer

“Please wake up, Betsy,” Alice whispered.

Alice gripped her sister’s hand as she listened to the heart monitor beep. She hadn’t slept in days while her sister was in the hospital, and her face was pale and drawn. Her sister’s white face looked so small on the pillow. Alice bowed her head in silent prayer.

“God, please, heal my sister,” she pleaded silently. “I need her so much. My parents told me when I was young that you listen to every prayer, and that you’ll answer. I know I haven’t been the most faithful,” she gulped back tears, “but I need you to heal Betsy.” Alice laid her head on the hospital bed, struggling to hold back tears. She drifted off to sleep, not noticing when the heart monitor’s beeping slowed and then, finally, stopped.

“Miss Alice?” a nurse asked softly, gently shaking Alice awake. Alice sat up, struggling to hold back a yawn. She looked down at her sister’s still figure. The hand she was still grasping was icy cold.

“I’m sorry, Miss Alice,” the nurse whispered sympathetically. “She-she died only a few minutes ago.

Later that day, Alice dragged her feet in through the autumn leaves that had fallen and covered the sidewalk. She looked up at the gray cloud-covered sky. A single raindrop fell and landed on the end of her nose. She wiped it away harshly.

“God, why didn’t you answer me? I asked you to heal Betsy, but you didn’t,” she whispered angrily.

A voice deep inside her soul whispered to her. I did answer. But I have something better in mind for both of you. Just trust Me.

Treasure

Treasure

A poker chip. A pair of dice. A screwdriver. A rock. All hidden in an old, rotten box shoved in an old, rotten tree.

The collection wasn’t much. Just a boy’s favorite treasures, dirty and smudged. The woman traced the A. H. carved on the lid of the box. A tear slipped down her cheek as she fondled each f her son’s precious memoirs.

“Goodbye, Alex,” she whispered softly, stroking the smooth rock. “I’ll take care of your treasures, and I’ll see you again in heaven someday.”

The little girl next to her looked down into the box.” I hope he’s got better treasures in heaven than he left us down here.”

———-

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.”

Matthew 6:19-20

The Perilous Journey – Part II

I wrote this story a couple of years ago for a creative writing class, and I still consider it one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think. Click for Part I.

Annabelle knew that if the knights saw her, they would certainly stop her and ask her why a peasant girl her age was riding on this trail in the middle of the night. That would waste valuable time. And if they were enemies, she might be captured. Thinking quickly, she slid off of Star and led her into the small clump of trees on her right. Hoping that Star wouldn’t make any noise, she guided her along the side of the road, pausing behind the trees to listen and try to locate the knights. Finally, she was alongside them. She listened closely.

“We’ll sneak up on the castle tonight,” one of the knights, who had a rough voice, suggested. “We could figure out which window is his, and climb through and kill him while he’s sleeping. They’ll never know we were there.”

“Yes,” another added, “they may even think that it was one of his workers.”

“No,” a third man replied. “It won’t work. It’s too risky.”

When she realized what was going on, Annabelle caught her breath. These were enemy knights, and they were planning to kill the king! She quickly led Star past the soldiers, being careful not to make any noise. Miraculously, they made it past. She remounted Star, and urged her to gallop on the grassy side of the path, where she figured they wouldn’t make as much noise. With the help of the moonlight, she quickly made it to King’s Tavern. She slid off of Star and tied her up, then ran inside.

The sweaty barkeeper looked up as she dashed in. “May I help you, miss?”

“Yes,” Annabelle cried. “There are some enemy knights down the road, and they are planning to kill the king tonight!” Several men at the tables leapt to their feet and volunteered to go help round them up. The barkeeper organized a team of men to capture the knights.

Annabelle galloped Star down the path next to the tavern. It was a short way to the cottage, and when she got there, an elderly lady, who had heard Star’s hoof beats, rushed out of the cottage.

“What’s wrong, my dear?” she asked.

“My mother has the fever,” Annabelle panted. “Do you have a remedy I could take her?”

“Yes, my dear,” she replied, rushing into the house and returning a few seconds later with a small glass bottle of liquid. Grinning, she handed it to Annabelle, who peered at it. Frowning, Annabelle tried to identify the liquid, but could not.

“What is this?” Annabelle asked curiously. Wondering how it could help her mother, she sloshed the liquid in the bottle around. Slyly, the old lady grinned. Annabelle noticed that it was a toothless grin.

“They are Tears,” she replied.

“What?”

“Every time someone comes to me while they’re crying, I give them a hankie. Then, later, I wring the Tears out of the hankie. I save the Tears. If you rub it on the bottom of your mother’s feet, the fever will go away,” the old lady, who was still grinning, explained.

Under the cover of the darkness, Annabelle grimaced. At least Mother doesn’t have to drink it, she pondered. She thanked the old lady for the Tears and galloped back up the path. At the head of the trail, a dark figure stepped into her path. Star stopped. When the figure stepped into view, Annabelle realized that it was the barkeeper.

“The men are fighting up ahead. I’ll lead you to a short cut. We need you to warn the king’s guard about the knights. I don’t doubt that they’ll beat our men. Our men are pretending to be thieves,” he said as he mounted his horse.

They galloped to a small path next to the barkeeper’s cottage. The barkeeper stopped and Annabelle continued on her way. Eventually, the king’s castle came into view. She stopped at the gate where the drawbridge was down. She yelled at the top of her lungs until a guard noticed. She quickly told him to pull up the drawbridge and told him what the knights had said. She galloped back down the street, Star’s hooves thundering on the cobblestones.

Finally she was home. She took off Star’s bridle and put her in her stall. Star immediately dozed off, tired from the long ride. Annabelle quietly slipped into the cottage, where she found her mother sound asleep. She rubbed the Tears on the bottoms of her mother’s feet, slid into bed, and fell asleep immediately.

Happily, the next day, her mother was completely well. To her mother’s delight, the grateful king came by and thanked Annabelle for saving his life. She blushed modestly. When the king offered to give her anything in his kingdom in thanks for her services, she suggested only one thing as she smiled at her mother. Grinning in delight, she asked that he marry her mother, whose husband had died when Annabelle was a baby, and he agreed. And, of course, they all lived happily ever after.

The End

The Perilous Journey – Part I

I wrote this story a couple of years ago for a creative writing class, and I still consider it one of my favorites. I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you think. 🙂

Annabelle pulled her cloak tighter around her as she made her way to the tiny stable. The chill of the wind seeped through her thick wool cloak. Struggling against the wind, she slowly tugged the door open. Finally, she was able to slip inside. A copper colored mare, who had been munching her hay, lifted her head and stared at Annabelle in surprise.
“Easy, Star,” Annabelle murmured soothingly to the high strung mare. As Annabelle slipped the bridle over her ears, Star snorted and tossed her head. Annabelle led the mare out of the barn into the icy sleet. Annabelle urged her to the small cottage where she and her mother lived. In a flash, she tied the horse and dashed inside. She walked quickly to where her mother lay on the bed made of homespun cloth stuffed with straw, which was next to the blazing fire. She knelt down and caressed her mother’s sweaty hand. Her mother moaned.
“Don’t worry, Mother,” Annabelle told the feverish form softly. “I won’t be gone long. I’ll just go to the cottage where the woman who makes the remedies lives. I’ll be back soon with your medicine.”
“Ride past the castle,” her mother told her. “Turn to the right by Thick Pine. Turn left at the Dragon Inn. Follow the path until you get to King’s Tavern, then go on the side path. It leads to her cottage. Please hurry, daughter. The fever is worsening.”
“I will,” Annabelle promised. She quickly went outside and mounted Star. She and her mother were poor and they were lucky to own a horse as fast as Star. She nudged Star with her heel, and galloped off into the wintry darkness.
Quite soon, the tall castle loomed ahead. The dirt road changed to cobblestones. Finally she was able to see the medieval city that she had always wanted to travel to, but she took no notice of the lovely dresses and supplies that the stores advertised. She was soon past the castle and galloping on toward Dark Forest.
When Annabelle reached the edge of the gloomy forest, she halted Star, who was breathing heavily, dismounted, and let her catch her breath as she studied the path she was leading Star down. Since the path was old and rutted, and was strewn with rocks, Annabelle knew that she would have to let Star go slowly. Sighing, she realized that she was not looking forward to the trip through the forest.
They picked their way slowly along the path. In the darkness, Annabelle pushed Star as fast as she dared. The going was slow, but finally they made it to the other side of the forest. Annabelle urged Star forward again. Star responded with a burst of speed. Soon they were galloping at full speed again.
Finally, Annabelle spotted Thick Pine towering above the tiny trees that lined the trail. She slowed Star, prepared to let her catch her breath, but Star plowed forward, turning right at Thick Pine when Annabelle commanded her. She seemed to sense that something was wrong, that she was on an important mission.
Annabelle slowed Star to a trot, letting her catch her breath while still making progress. After a while, she spotted the small village where the Dragon Inn was located. She quickly found the inn, and turned left onto the small path next to it. Star sped up, seeming to sense her rider’s urgency.
They continued galloping up the path. Suddenly, Star stopped, her head high, her eyes rolling. Annabelle sat quietly, listening for any noises that might show what had scared Star. She heard the thud of hoof beats. Straining her ears, she struggled to pick up the telltale sound she was listening for. The clanking of armor reached her ears.
“Knights!” she whispered.