tell me what you think ... btw it is like 2am so they probably are horrible crappy with a million typos so deal with it i'll edit them in the ...later morning... they were for senior comp we are supposed to write short short stories which tell a lot ... so do they lmfao?
It was sitting there, silent and sturdy. Its polished white surface gleamed in the sunlight which came through the open den window. Her father’s booming voice drifted in on the breeze. Perhaps he was talking to a passing neighbor or one of the many visitors who had come by the house to pay their regards. For a few seconds she stood there just staring at the great legged box, completely ignoring her father. In that small amount of time she seemed to come to a resolution and her eyes snapped to attention.
It only took a few of her small strides for Mary to cross the room, the young girl’s saddle shoes padding across the well worn carpet. She stopped in front of the wooden structure, gazing down at it in awe. Slowly she reached her hands down and ran a finger tip across the surface, and catching her slim finger beneath the lip of the wood, she lifted the lid which kept the magic within the box hidden.
Her lips twisted in a smile and she peered down at the glowing black and white keys. Hungrily her fingers flew across the keys, barely grazing the cool surface of every one, before her hands came to rest in front of her.
Slowly she let the weight of her hands press the down the keys—nothing. She pushed hard, her fingers angrily tapping the white surface. The silence pressed in around her. Frustrated she slammed her small hands down onto the keys. Over and over they crashed down onto the magic box, the one her mother had sat at almost every night, enraptured by some sort of spell, hands moving gracefully and body swaying. Yet, here she was, but the magic was gone as if it had fled from a stranger’s touch.
She opened her mouth in frustration, but the screams she tried to convey fell silent. It penetrated even her mind. She didn’t hear her father in the doorway, his breath uneven from the run inside. She didn’t turned to see him, looking down at her in a weird glaring sort of way before turned back and walking away to talk with the man waiting impatiently outside. And he did not see his daughter slump defeated onto the piano in silent sobs.
The books were all lined up, just as they had been two year before and just as they would probably be two years from today. He knew it, but he did not want to change it. So much had changed around the shelves, but they seemed content frozen in time like a memorial. Perhaps the only thing that had been added to the oak bookshelves was her picture, set haphazardly in the corner without even a frame. It didn’t need a frame; such an item would only take away from the beauty of the photograph which he had come to love in the last year of staring at it from his piled work desk.
Today he sat, papers scattered around him, but his attention was not on the computer screen in front of him, but instead on her picture. Arms flung wide with a red rose in her hand, she stood proudly in her black robes and flat hat, the yellow tassel tucked to the right. The thing that struck him the most was her smile, radiant and proud, like nothing in the world could have stopped her. Studied and graduated, she was ready to take on the world with him beside her and she would be the best therapist ever; she would save the world. She became so wrapped up in being superwoman for everyone else, she forgot about saving herself. It would take a year for the disease to completely take over, and he watched it every step of the way, waiting for something to change. They tried hard to be the family they wanted; they bought a house, got a dog, pretended things were fine.
A tear fell onto his hand and he quickly turned away from the picture, roughly brushing off his hand. In the other room he heard Rudy growl and he let out of small huff trying to ignore the dog which was now prancing around in circles around the room. Frustrated he turned back to the screen. With a few clicks he highlighted the entirety of the typing on the screen and deleted it. Smiling he stood up from the computer and stooped down to receive a wet lick from his best friend and only companion.
© 2005 kayee
they were both previously written kinda and i just edited them a bunch cause i can't think of anything else to write ... i'm gonna try to write a completely new one tomorrow... but it's horrible because the one we read had the mother dead in it and likewise so do mine for obvious reasons and i can't think of ideas where the mother isn't dead because HELLO lol ... i'm think of doing one with my brother and me ... i feel like being nostalgic lol
::happy:: ... not about the stories ... other stuff but i'm not going to say cause i doubt ya'll care lol just feel like being HAPPY and i dunno... optimistic ... i guess ... okay not very but more than usual... ah well it's crazy ...
dont worry wes none of that has anything to do with you ...