This is a collection of short stories I wrote during February, almost every day. They were inspired by prompts -- from writing a story with a certain title, to a story with a specific weather event -- all of which tested my limits as a writer <3
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PROMPT: write a story using only a spoken monologue from your protagonist
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"I don't know what else I'm supposed to know. That night Chance disappeared was one of the worst nights of my life. She was gone before I could do or say anything – I followed when she ran off, but I couldn't keep up with her – but then again, I never could.
"I guess my brain's blocked out the details of where she disappeared. It doesn't help I was wasted as well, my lungs burning as I retched up the cheap rosé she loved so much. God, it was awful that stuff. But I drank to keep her company anyway. Better than her drinking alone, though I don't doubt she did that too.
"Does. I refuse to believe that Chance is gone forever. There's no way she'd just give up like that. Chance Noah Harn is far too stubborn just to roll over and die, even if she has run away. Surely, there must have been something to push her away like that?
"The summer had been difficult for her, though I never guessed she'd just up and leave. I wish she felt like she could tell me whatever she was going through. I wish she would've come to me as opposed to just shutting me off and hiding everything behind that bright smile of hers.
"To say I feel guilty would be an understatement. It might've been me that pushed her over the edge. I admitted my love for her, thinking that it would save her somehow. If anything, it was the final nail in the coffin.
"She said something about me being too good for her, like I haven't got my flaws either. But Chance will be Chance – always suffering under the surface, never letting anyone too close.
"Jealousy drives me to blame Heather Towers for Chance's disappearance. The amount of times that 'perfect' girl rejected Chance was crushing, and she was the one person Chance truly loved. Her family had fallen to pieces over a couple of months, and she was barely seeing her dad anymore. Martin Harn had taken on another job to ensure he could make ends meet.
"Something deep within me insists she can't have gone too far away. Like she's hovering close by, ready to spring out at any moment and piss herself laughing about how she fooled us all. Chance the trickster.
"Sometimes I wonder what words will be on her grave. Beloved daughter? Cherished friend? No inconsequential sentence is comprehensive enough to sum up Chance Noah Harn. You'd need paragraphs upon paragraphs – maybe even an entire book – for anyone to come close to understanding her. And even then, you'd probably need a sequel, prequel and a handbook to her life for any sort of understanding.
"Not even I, her supposed best friend, even fully understand Chance.
"But her disappearance isn't all at a loss. Because my story starts as a result of Chance's story coming to an ambiguous, hopefully temporary close.
"I have to figure out what when wrong; figure out what happened that night. I won't be able to rest until I know the truth."
(514 words)
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((p.s. read my book Concerning Chance for the rest of Rory's story and the truth about Chance!))
