Thursday, September 6, 2007

#76 - Writing

"There are thousands of thoughts lying within a man that he does not know till he takes up the pen and writes." ~William Makepeace Thackeray

It took me a minute to decide what I might write for this prompt. What do you write about writing? The idea quickly came to me. Back in 1996, during my junior year of high school I took a 'creative writing' class. I have all the stories I wrote saved in my memory trunk, with grades and teacher comments in red ink and everything. So, I flipped through them and picked one that I would like to share with ya'll now.

October 9, 1996

My Principal, Mr. Doolittle

Vivian squirmed in her seat. The principal, Mr. Doolittle, had always made her uncomfortable. It was just something about him that gave her the creeps. The door opened and Mr. Doolittle stepped out. He was a tall man with a bald head. It seemed as if he wore that same brown suit every day. He turned to her with that fake smile and motioned to her. 'Come in. Come in, Vivian. Have a seat,' he said in a cheery voice. She walked into his office and sat down in the brown leather chair in front of his big brown desk. 'Am I in trouble?', Vivian asked in a small voice. Mr. Doolittle broke into laughter as he sat down behind his desk. 'No, no. I just have some things to discuss with you'. He fiddled with some papers on his desk but abrubtly stopped. The smile on his face vanished and his eyes began to glow green. In a deep voice that was not his own Mr. Doolittle began to speak, 'We have been watching you for a while now, Vivian. And have come to the conclusion that you will make the perfect speciman. You are healthy, smart, and pretty too'. Vivian's face twisted in horror. She opened her mouth to scream but nothing came out. Mr. Doolittle, or who ever it was, got up from the chair and began to come towards Vivian. She got up and knocked the chair backwards. Tears streaming down her cheeks she tried to open the door. It wouldn't open. A wicked laugh came from Mr. Doolittle as he finally reached her. She huddled on the floor and finally let out a blood curdling scream.

She woke up screaming and jolted out of the bed. Her breathing was rapped and sweat poured from her skin. 'Only a dream. Only a dream', she thought as she tried to calm herself down. Her room was dark and comforting. When her breathing slowed down she got up to go get a drink of water. She got out of bed and walked across the blue colored carpet. She turned the knob and opened the door. Mr. Doolittle stood on the other side. When he noticed she was there that fake smile returned to his face. 'Ah, good. Your awake. Now the testing can begin'.

10 comments:

  1. You showed promise for good writing early on.

    This piece holds on its own.

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  2. Great story!! I look forward to reading more of your blog!

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  3. What a great "twist-on-twist" you managed. I enjoyed this.

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  4. How cool that you kept all your early work. I purged mine. With fire.

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  5. Nice to have things that you wrote when you were young. The piece has nice details.

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  6. Very fine story. Bravo for having those still.

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  7. Chilling, and well done! Good for you for saving your old writings. (I've done the same and am very glad I did.)

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  8. Great story and post. Your talent shines.

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  9. I'm still smiling at how you broke through the notorious "... and then I woke up" ending.

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  10. Cool bit of writing there. 'Spoke' to your writer's soul.

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