• Happy Earth Week! TBT is hosting a series of nature-based mini-events through April 28th. Breed flower hybrids by organizing your collectible lineup, enter our nature photography contest, purchase historically dated scenery collectibles, and earn bells around the site! Read more in the Earth Week and photography contest threads.

My Stories

Xara

the april fool
Joined
Apr 24, 2015
Posts
32,640
Bells
149
Golden Watering Can
White Rose
White Rose
White Rose
Yellow Rose
Prismatic Easter Egg
My Melody Easter Egg
White Rose
Red Rose
Red Rose
Note: So, I know the majority of the threads here are focused on art, but since the museum section description says that all creations are welcome, I decided to step out of my comfort zone and post a story of mine...now, this is the first time I'd be publicly sharing one of my stories, so I'm a bit scared. However, any and all opinions are appreciated, and constructive criticism is encouraged. I aspire to be an author one day, and am hoping to improve my writing. The story I'm gonna be sharing was intended to be a one-shot only, however I'm hoping to continue it as a full-length story one day. I may post more of my stories, or even poems, later on depending on any/all feedback I receive. I'm gonna shut up now, but if for any reason this thread is in the wrong section, please feel free to let me know/move it.


The Darkness


Melanie Silva was certain her sister was a Goddess trapped inside an eleven year old's body. It wasn't one of those incidents where she was 'little miss perfect', but it sure seemed that way. She adored her sister. For an eleven year old, Alana Silva seemed to be more powerful than God--something she'd never tell her mother--and larger than life itself. Said eleven year old was currently running down the sidewalk, a purple kite floating in the air behind her. Cheerful giggles escaped from her mouth as she occasionally glanced at the sky, genuine happiness shining in her eyes. I like to believe that everyone has a spark in them, but her spark was different. Her spark was filled with hope and dreams, not just for herself, but for others. Alana Silva was a true gift from God, but here's the catch; God always asks for his gifts back at some point.

2​

Melanie sat on her bed, drawing carelessly on her hands with several varieties of markers. She knew her mother would be less than pleased if she found out, especially as she had decided to play hooky today. She was confined to her bedroom, the only reason being she didn't wish to participate in the gym activities that were taking place at her school, and so she did what she did best; faked being sick. She started the act during late hours of the previous day, dropping a few coughs and making herself sneeze when nobody was looking. The symptoms increased overnight, and by morning, she fooled her parents by stating that her stomach was killing her and that she felt nauseous. She even cried, just for good measure. This also was the reason why she would not be going out to play with her sister, something they've done every afternoon for the last five years.

"Mel, why'd you have to get sick today?" Alana whined. She knew the real reason why her sister had stayed home, but felt it necessary to go along with it, just in case their parents could hear.

"I'm sorry." It was a bold-faced lie, the second one that had been uttered from her lips within 24 hours. She was sorry that she wasn't going to be able to play with her, but she wasn't sorry that she had pretended to be sick.

"Y'know, it wouldn't have been that bad. You could've easily gotten out of it."

"No, I couldn't have."

Melanie had some medical issues, ones that prevented her from being able to fully participate in gym. Her lack of ability to run and jump like the other children did lead to some bullying, but that wasn't the only reason. She preferred to keep by herself, and the reserved kids are always the ones who got picked on.

"Your issues are nothing to be ashamed of. The other kids wouldn't of said anything."

"Yes, they would have, and that's the problem. I can't be myself, Alana."

"Everyone's afraid to be them-self, which is all the more reason to be yourself. There's nothing wrong with being unique."

"Being unique is social suicide." Melanie knew it was sad of her to deal with social struggles so young, but she hoped she wasn't the only one. Prayed, whenever her mother dragged her to church.

"Alana, what are you doing in here? You're not supposed to be around your sister when she's sick." The stern voice of Marshal Silva spoke, bringing their conversation to an abrupt stop.

"Sorry, daddy." Alana sighed, looking down nervously. Her father had a tendency to get mad pretty often, and was hoping to avoid him freaking out today.

"Just get out of here. Go outside, before it gets too dark." Alana listened to her father's booming footsteps head down the stairs, before inching towards the door. Her sister had gone back to paying attention to her now colorful hands, thankful that her father hadn't noticed. That would've caused a freak-out for sure.

She paused, "Melanie?"

"What?"

"Being unique isn't a bad thing, and it doesn't mean you're a bad person. Just remember that, alright?"

She left after that, leaving Melanie to ponder. Her sister held so much wisdom in that tiny body of hers that she had no idea how she hadn't exploded yet. She did have an idea about one thing though; her sister was going to grow up to be a phenomenal human being, one who would change the world for the better.

If only she had actually been given the chance to grow up.

3​

Alana was still running, determined to make her kite continue flying. She hadn't been out for long, but it felt like she'd been running forever. Her lungs were burning at this point, but she wouldn't stop. She wasn't really running for herself anymore, but for her sister as well. If she couldn't come out and have fun, then she would have fun for her. It wasn't the same though, she'd admit, but there was always tomorrow. Right?

At that very moment was when a strong wind blew by; so strong, that Alana lost her grip on the kite and it began to fly away from her.

"No!" She gasped, beginning to sprint after it. She hadn't a clue where that wind came from--it was supposed to be hot today, which meant no wind. The kite appeared to be playing a trick on her as well. Whenever her fingers were merely an inch away from the string, it'd jerk further away from her, as if an invisible wind was controlling it now. She wasn't even sure how it was flying on its own, since the wind had stopped; had her kite suddenly become possessed? Or, maybe it was guiding her towards her destiny.

She became so caught up with trying to catch up to her kite, that she didn't even acknowledge the sudden yell of, "Watch out!" until it was too late. Before Alana knew what was happening, she was suddenly on her back, pain spreading throughout her entire body. She was aware of her surroundings; the gasps of "Oh my God!" and the quick footsteps that were approaching her. She didn't care though--her attention was on her purple kite, the one that she was now watching fly away. She wondered where it was going, and if another kid would find it. She didn't understand why the fate of her kite was so important to her all of a sudden, when she was dying. Alana was going to die, and she hadn't even managed to catch her kite. What a lousy way to go!

Everything was a blur after that; people crowding her, informing her an ambulance would be arriving soon, promises that she was going to be fine. Questions on how she could be so careless, and if she had been unsupervised. She thought she'd be comforted by how many people were concerned, but she wasn't. It was a nightmare. One that would continue for her family, her sister specifically, for the next four years. She, however, would get the easy way out. She closed her eyes, ignoring the panicked shrieks of the people around her, and focused only on the blankness that could've been the inside of her eyelids, or her mind. At this point, for all she knew, it could've been death. She also could've sworn she heard the distant wails of sirens, but she wouldn't find out.

Alana Silva passed away on that afternoon, sprawled out on the road similar to how her mother always found her sprawled out on her bed in the mornings, when she went to wake her up for school. Her kite continued to live on, flying through the air, living all the adventures she'd never get to.

It didn't take long for the Silva family to be informed of what happened; Alana had been hit by a bus, and hadn't lived to tell the tale. Melanie stayed in her room, listening to the yells of her father and the weeping screams of her mother. She believed karma had come for her, as she definitely felt sick now. With this type of sickness, no amount of rest or days off from school would cure her. No medicine would be strong enough.

Today was the day Alana Silva became apart of the darkness, and the day that Melanie Silva desired to join her. Because, she knew, the darkness could get awfully lonely.
 
Ah that was really good, I'd definitely be interested to read more from you :3
 
My goodness, that was magnificent! As mentioned from above, I'd love to see more of your stories also.

I'm assuming after reading this, that the darkness obviously represents the unknown of death? Correct me if I'm wrong. It's very interesting how you've described it this way, making it seem as if there's nothing beyond the darkness besides from personal beliefs which vary from person to person. I like it! :)

I'm curious; what inspired you to create such a story?
 
Ah that was really good, I'd definitely be interested to read more from you :3

Ahh thank you c:

- - - Post Merge - - -

My goodness, that was magnificent! As mentioned from above, I'd love to see more of your stories also.

I'm assuming after reading this, that the darkness obviously represents the unknown of death? Correct me if I'm wrong. It's very interesting how you've described it this way, making it seem as if there's nothing beyond the darkness besides from personal beliefs which vary from person to person. I like it! :)

I'm curious; what inspired you to create such a story?

Thanks so much! You are correct, the darkness is what represents the unknown of death, or I guess even just death in general.

I'm not sure what exactly inspired me; usually when I get an idea, it just pops into my head. But, I knew I wanted to write a story centred around the theories of the afterlife, or just the mystery that is death. I mean, death itself isn't a mystery, and there's no question that it exists; but what people believe happens in the afterlife can be questioned, as there's really no guarantee.
 
Back
Top