writing contest.

[feline card maker]

please enter my writing contest. write a short story about anything you want and send it to me via PM the top 3 contestants will receive......

 

1st place: 3 reps

2nd place: 2 reps

3rd place: 1 rep

 

the only thing i ask is that i have permission to post the top 3 storys on a fan fic thread and post the rest of the storys on a different thread.

 

that is all

 

 

Thanks:D

[feline card maker]

bump. everybody who reads this.... Neg me!!!!!!!!

[RyanAtlus]

[spoiler=Squash]

Squash

A short story written by *********

 

Sylvia Baker opened the front door of Druid Lane, number 66. She was carrying a large sports bag, for she was coming home from her weekly evening of squash. Being exhausted of hitting the little black ball over and over again, she was happy to drop the bag into an armchair, and then drop down into the sofa herself. She closed her eyes, entering in a world of tranquility... She breathed in, then out, and then back in again...All was good.

 

That is the story that I could tell you; one of a happy family, of which Sylvia is the mother. She is married to Jack, and together they have a little son, Dudley. And then they lived happily ever after. Done.

However, I’m way too sadistic to tell happy stories in which “all is good”. If you want to read a story without people trying to kill each other or dying in terrible accidents, you are allowad to put the book away, and just accept that all is good, that we live in a world where violence and murder does not exist. A world of tranquility.

Not putting the book away? Fine then. Read on. Don’t complain if everyone seems to be kinda deadish at the end. I warned you.

 

Sylvia opened her eyes. Not because she actually wanted to leave the world in which she was behind, but because Dudley had decided to wake mummy up. But, what else can you expect from a three-year old? He was standing next to her, pulling her hair carefully and whispering...

“Mommy...Be quiet!”

“Wh-What?” she yawned. She must’ve been snoring again.

“Daddy says be quiet!”

Sylvia was surprised. Normally, her man was late on Mondays.

“Where is he?”

Dudley pointed towards the stairs, then put his finger on his lips, making a hushing sound. Sylvia stood up, and went upstairs as quiet as she could. She wanted to knock on the door of his bedroom. However, the sound of two voices stopped her. The first one was unmistakably Jack’s. The other one was a woman’s voice for sure.

“But how? Explain me how we can be together!”

“You know that. Just stab the whore to death. There are plenty of orphanages in which we can dump the child.”

“You make it sound easy!” He made himself sound desperate. “How can I kill the woman I have once loved so tenderly, and forget the child of which I am the father?”

A short silence banged through Sylvia’s head. What did this mean? Was he really going to-

“Maybe this can convince you...” She heard nothing, but through the silence she knew they were about to dive into the bed which she used to share with Jack. Or maybe they were allready. Her heart stopped beating, she wanted to scream, to kick, to release her anger and spit it out on the world around her. She was somewhere between anger and frustration, where ever that may be.

But she couldn’t. She had to leave. And quick. The sooner she and Dudley were out of this house, away from that mad man who had once been her husband, away from...everything.

She tried to get back downstairs as fast as she could, without making any noise. She made a soft “Shht!” sound towards Dudley, and put her fingers on her lips, just like he had done. She lead him to the front door, out of the house, onto the street, into the car. Her hands were shaking heavily as she put the key into the contact. Off they were, into a world which couldn’t be any more different than the world of tranquility, of wich I have already told you. Lives can change, or even get ruined, in several minutes, as this shocking event proves. Beautifull isn’t it? Ah, yes... Told you I was a sadist? Anyways, let’s continue the story.

Sylvia didn’t know for how long she and Dudley had been driving. Whether it were some minutes or hours, it might’ve well been several days. If she had to make a guess, it had been about 2 hours since they had left the house. Dudley was surprisingly quiet. Normally he kept going on and on about things like school and that sort of things. He must’ve had a boring, quiet day today. “Crossburry 2 miles” a sign told her. She had never heard of the village before. She decided that it would be wise to stop and rest for a quarter or so.

Crossburry, a village that only exists in my imagination doesn’t bear any resemblance to any other English village I know. Or that you know, for that matter. The streets are kinda like those on Mont-Martre in Paris, only a bit wider so that a car could drive through them with ease. The streets went up and down; the one side of each street was several meters higher than the other side.

Sylvia parked in a streetwhere no other cars were present. She didn’t see anybody, but she did see there were some people inside the shops. She gave Dudley one of the lolly’s that were always present in the car, for no appearant resaon. She left him there, in the car, and then stepped out of it, heading for the shop she had seen on the other side of the particulary street.

Some good advice for if you ever want to go shopping in Crossburry, should you ever find the bloody village. (Just a pun, you’ll see what I mean right away.) Never, ever leave a kid alone in a car. Don’t.

 

She entered the shop, and a bell rang. She didn’t have the slightest idea of what she wanted to buy. The shopkeeper looked at her suspiciously, and she had never been this happy to hear her phone ring.

“Hello, Sylvia speaking.” her voice was a bit insecure, almost unstable...

“Sylvia! Where on earth are you?”

Jack. He was looking for her. He must’ve walked through the house with a knife in his hand, wanting to tear her apart. He had noticed her absense.

“In the park.” She reacted quickly. “With Dudley.”

“The park?”

“Yes, I didn’t want to disturb you by overhearing your...secrets?”

“Uhm...yeah...about that, I really wanted to tell you.”

“When? When standing next to my coffin?” She became mad. Anger like she had never felt before was finding a way out through her words.”

“Aren’t you overreacting a bit?”

Her blood was boiling. Overreacting?

“Ok. Since you allready seem to know, the play is next week. I’ve got you some good seats in the theatre. We’ll have to take a babysit for Dudley. The play is kinda...”

A play? Of course. He must’ve been rehearsing.

“Ow...Sorry for spoiling your surprise.”

“It’s nothing. I had to tell you sooner or later.”

“I’ll come home as fast as I can.”

“Bye then!”

“Bye!”

She had never been so reliefed in her whole life. She and Dudley would be all right. Nothing could happen to them. She walked out of the shop, smiling. She still smiled when she saw a red car driving downways towards her. A red car with a toddler named Dudley in it, waving a lolly in front of his face. Sylvia’s life flashed before her eyes. Her, graduation, the wedding, she saw herself holding Dudley for the first time...

Her life should’ve flashed faster, because two seconds later, she was squashed between the wall of the shop and the car. In the last fraction of a second of the life of Sylvia Baker, she saw a man on a stage, who stabbed her with a knife.

And what about Dudley? He was having a great time. He was on a vacation wit mommy, had driven a car for the first time in his life, and had done it while eating a lollypop.

Except for the lolly almost sticking out the back of his head, he felt all right.

 

What did Jack do, you might ask? Well, I would have a great time telling you he hung himself after he heard the news, but just to make it a happy ending, I’ll say he eventually got over it and got married with his friend from the theatre company. They bought a new house and had many children. There, now happy? A positive element in my story. If you like this ending, do not read the sentences following this one.

 

If you really want to know the reality, fine by me. I was completely honest when I Said he hadn’t hung himself. Instead, he took a gun to the theatre in which the first show of the play took place, shot as many people as he could hit, and then commited suicide with his last bullet.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

 

 

 

I win?

[feline card maker]

since nobody replied to my writing contest except LarryCotter. I declare him the winner by default. he gets all 3 reps