LOCATION: Malone University
PROMPT: Afraid of ___. Fill in the blank to complete the central theme of you story.
TITLE: Afraid of Reality
RANK: 1, 1
QUALITY POINTS: 95, 98
AWARDS: None
ROUND: 1
• •
The warm summer breeze slaps me in the face as I dart through the sliding back door. My burning red hair flies behind me, the frizzy corybantic strands obtaining a mind of their own. My long, stick-like legs move almost robotically, the rhythm of the whistling wind a harmony to the constant patting of my Converse hitting the shriveled grass. I embrace the sticky air on my face as I run, my heart pounding like a bass drum, causing me to sprint faster. My lungs gasp and plea for oxygen, and the burning sensation lights me on fire.
I slow down as I enter a beautiful forest; the one I had been dreaming about since I got home from school. The green hues of the swaying leaves take what's left of my breath away, and I gape at the scenery in awe. This is it.
My escape.
A smile finds its way upon my chapped lips as I stroll through the endless branches, my arms swinging beside me. The sounds of the forest wildlife grabs my attention, bringing me closer with each chirp and rustle like a fisherman reeling in a catch. I bend down beside a small bush, alive with vibrant colored berries littered across the surface. Slowly, I pluck a ruby-colored fruit off its branch, rolling it between my pointer finger and thumb ponderously. Suddenly, a hand touches my shoulder and I smile, knowing I am away from reality and in my own world - my favorite place to be.
I turn my head, the berry still in its place between my fingers. Before me stands a beautiful woman clothed in white robes. Her perfectly curled locks flow down to her shoulders, much like an ocean. She flashes a blinding smile at me.
"Hello, young one," she murmurs, bending down beside me. I stare in awe, my mouth contorted into one big "O."
"H-Hi," I gasp out, the berry dropping to the ground. She laughs to herself and continues. "What are you doing out here in the woods?"
The question does not surprise me, for I have been asked it many times before. An intense pang of sadness rains over me and I look at the ground. "It's my escape," I whisper, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. The woman looks at me thoughtfully and nods, urging me to continue.
"I can be myself here," I sigh, the memories of cruel remarks flooding back to me. "You are so childish," "Get your head out of the clouds."
Tears fall down my face one by one, and I swipe at them. "This is the only place I can call home - escape from the real world. I don't belong there. I'm afraid of them."
"You're special, sweet child," she speaks, her voice soft as silk. I immediately relax, letting the calming sound of the woman and the wind blowing through the trees become the only thing I think of. "You cannot escape reality. It will always be there," she soothingly calms me.
"Create your own reality. Your imagination has no limits. Make the dreadful world you live in one of your liking."
The idea strikes my mind like a sudden bolt of lightning. If reality isn't how I want it, then I should change it.
I turn to the pale woman and embrace her in a warm hug, her arms around me sending electricity through my veins.
"Thank you," I whisper, and slowly the woman in white fades away, and I am left in a summer forest with a berry between my fingers.
"I shouldn't be afraid of reality," I say to myself. "I should be afraid of what my reality isn't."
And with that, I spring from my cramped position on the damp forest floor and twirl around, my arms thrown out in complete and utter joy, my laughter the only thing heard echoing through the twigs and branches.
Just the way I want it.
• •
Heeeyyy everyone. This is my first story from regionals at Malone. Since there are two judges per round, I am putting both of their scores on here (as you can see, it says I got two 1's and a 95 and 98.) I didn't really like this story. I thought the descriptions were probably my best ever but the plot was kind of rushed and undeveloped. Hard to understand. You feel me? Anyways, the question of the chapter is: What was your prompt for the first round at regionals (if you went there yet!)
See you guys later!
-Olivia
YOU ARE READING
My Power of the Pen Stories
ContoThis is a collection of my seventh and eighth grade Power of the Pen stories. Power of the Pen is a creative writing program for seventh and eighth grade students in the state of Ohio. Students compete in competitions against other qualifying writer...
