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Shell
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WpMetadataReadOngoing6m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Jul 9, 2012
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Fiction
Social Themes
It all started with a shell. You held it to your ear, closed your eyes, and listened. "If you listen close enough, you can hear the ocean. It's waves crashing on the shore, the seagull's crying in the air, and the swaying of palm trees from the breeze." You let out a long breath, a small smile forming on your lips. "Try it." Your hands engulfed mine as you wrapped my fingers around the shell and gently lifted it up to my own ear. "I can't hear anything." I said. "Shhh," you whispered, "Just listen, close your eyes." I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and listened. Just like that, I heard it. Faintly at first, but as I listened even closer, I was able to make out the sounds of waves hitting the shore, of birds in the air, and even the gently swaying palm trees. "I hear it now." I said. Carefully, as not to break it, I lowered the shell from my ear to place it back in your hands. But you stopped me. "No, you keep it." you said, "It's a memory that never dies."
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Something didn't feel right. I looked around my room slowly; cautiously; taking everything in and trying not to feel too nervous. Perhaps Lure was in my room right now, watching me, silently laughing to himself. I didn't doubt it. I slipped off my bed and walked around, hugging my waist, and tilted my head. I felt my rough ponytail slide against the back of my neck and over my shoulder as I moved. "Lure?" I hissed, "Lure, are you there?" I wandered around a little, for some reason feeling scared. But why? It was only Lure. He wouldn't hurt me, would he? "Okay, Lure. Quit it. I know it's you. Who else would it-" I stopped, startled, when I heard a strange sound that made me cringe. It was like fingernails being dragged across a chalkboard. I whipped around and came face-to-face with my mirror. Immediately, I saw the difference. Various scratches were displayed across the glass, forming words. It looked as if claws had written the words in the mirror. "Deepest apologies, but it was fun." (All credit goes to my sister, who wrote this when she was in the twelfth grade)

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