Alright guys and gals, were going to do this a little bit differently today.
Welcome to the 5th edition of the #steemitwritingprompt challenge!
For those of you familiar with Reddit's WritingPrompts subreddit, you're going to feel right at home. Otherwise, the rules are simple:
1) I will submit a writing prompt in the form of a simple story idea or premise.
2) You all will write stories based on the prompt and submit them as comments on this post.
3) We (the Steemit community) will upvote the best stories and on Steemit that means making money!
Even if you don't write fiction, it's a fantastic way to exercise your creativity muscles, become a better story teller, and a more well rounded writer!
And I promise to read every response, so at the very least, you have reader in me.
I find it interesting that the saddest I have ever been is the day I found someone I love more than myself. We have one life to live, right? That was my thinking, anyway; you are the main character in your story so screw everyone else.
That's what I thought until I met HER. You know who I'm talking about. That smile, that genuine smile you will never forget for the rest of your life, where she closes her eyes and laughs that sweet, gentle laugh. And you feel so good because you did that. She smiles, she laughs, she feels for you. We have all experienced the kind of love they write about in books. You have never cared so much for someone in all your life. You ache for her so badly that you can feel a deep pit forming in your stomach when she's gone. Nothing can tear you apart, not ever.
Or so you thought. Because the saddest day of your life is the day you find someone you care for more than yourself. That is the day you give a piece of yourself to someone and ask them not to drop it. And when they do? You get it back, of course, but broken and taped together. You can give that piece to someone else, but we all know the value of something broken is worth far less than something new.
You will never be as valuable as the day you let a smile steal your heart.
Great writing. I especially love the last line. Nice job!
Thank you
This happened to a classmate of mine when we were in Grade 3. Jerry was raised by his grandparents. He was fighting with another boy who whispered to him: 'You are the reason that your parents abandoned you.' The look of agony that came across his face still, 30 years later, breaks me down.
Oh man. That's brutal.
While I was living in Hamilton, Ontario my 7 year old son was left to die from strep throat in Calgary by his mother. I was not told he was sick and I was not told he died. I found out by accident a week later on Facebook. She was charged with the crime and goes to court this November.
http://calgaryherald.com/news/local-news/trial-set-for-mom-who-used-holistic-medicine-to-treat-fatally-ill-son
Oh man. This is unbelievably tragic. My heart breaks for you. I can't even begin to imagine what this must have been like.
It says she tried holistic medicine, but never says what. I know her very well and I can honestly say that she didn't do anything at all. He laid in bed for 10 days with friends telling her to take him to the hospital, but didn't do anything until he had a heart attack.
All I can remember is how she froze up, how one second she was the invincible warrior she’s always been and the next second she was spasming on the floor.
“It’s a neurodegenerative disease,” she explains, sitting on the bed across from me. “The doctors think it’s a result of a chemical attack on the village my mother lived in while she was pregnant.”
I struggle to find words. I want to have a nuanced reaction. I want to be concerned, supportive, but not overbearing. Pain forms a sentence before I can though.
“How long?”
“What?” she asks.
“How long have you known about this?” I ask.
She’s quiet for a long time, long enough for me to know the answer before it comes. “Since I joined the Academy. I found out during my physical.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. “We’re partners.”
“Because I didn’t want you to see me as broken,” she protested. “I didn’t want you to think I can’t fight.”
“Kayla, you can’t,” I say. “You almost died today! What happens if you have another episode in the middle of a fight? What if I can’t get to you in time? You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“I’m dead anyway!” she snapped, louder and angrier and more raw than I’ve ever heard her. I freeze in shock, and she keeps yelling. “There is no cure for what I have. There is no treatment. I won’t live to see thirty no matter what I do. I don’t want to die in hospital bed, trapped inside my own body. I don’t want to die a vegetable. I want to die the way I lived. Fighting, protecting people, making a difference! I want to die a warrior.”
“Kayla, please…” I beg.
“Don’t,” she interrupts me. “Just don’t.”
Wow. Damn. Fantastic writing. Is it a true story?
Nah. Just condensed/skipped to climax version of an idea I had to put a twist on the Invincible Warrior archetype to make it more tragic.
I liked it a lot. Your other story you posted too! With this prompt, the illness/death premise is always going to be heart wrenching if done right. I don't know if you saw the little story I posted for this too, but it was based off a thing I saw on Facebook a long time ago. Someone posted: Write the 4 saddest words you know. And a friend of mine responded: "The girl died alone." It always stuck with me.
She was dressed in white, he held flowers in his hand. But they didn't speak a word,exactly like a year ago in December when he visited her grave.
Powerful. Nicely done.