Saturday, January 22, 2011 | By: Megan Held

Short Story

As several people have told me, I am planning to enter the short story contest offered by The Toronto Star. Seeing as I rarely write short stories I rummaged through some of my high school writing and found a short story I had written back in gr. 12. Mind you, it is really rough. When I typed up what I had I winced. With what I have I know I am going to be able to add and edit most of what I have. For any readers sake, please feel free to read what I am posting. My goal is to have it reworked so much that you can get more of a visual and sense of what happens.

Here is the short story:

Light. It cannot be morning yet. She rolls on to her side and looks out her window. Nope, it’s not the morning. Where had the light come from? It was a white flash, almost like the light for her room had come on. She rolled on to her back and looked up at her light fixture. No sign of light. A white flash, similar to what lightning would do, flashed inside her room. It came from her mirror. The mirror she hated to look at. She had to face herself in that mirror. The fine lines, the horrid hair, the eyes with no soul in them. Black or dark blue eyes. The colour did not matter, all that it revealed is she is without a soul. Hollow. Hollow like she felt inside. She had given up everything for other people’s happiness; she even gave up herself. She got up, despite her own wishes and walked over to the mirror. She could barely see herself in the dark. She looked old, dead.

The light flashed again, giving her a glimpse of her room and herself. Had she just seen something? A man. She had seen a man. Where had he come from? He was dark and would not show his face. She felt herself shiver and her breath caught. She feels cold now. Her air starts to get sucked out of her. Where had the man gone? She had seen him. She knows he is there. He had to be there.

She sees the light again, as well as the man. Only this time, he appeared to be over top of her. She jumped at the sight of his face and knocked the mirror to the ground. She’s falling. Where? The ground, the ocean, or her bed? She blinked several times. The light had stayed on. It was blinding her. She could breathe a little better. What had happened? She searched around and looked for the man. The walls were white; the people surrounding her were in bright clothing. The man was in green and white. She tried to move her fingers and felt sharp pains go throughout her body. Blood. She was coated in blood. Was it the mirror? No, it was not the mirror. It was much worse than the mirror could ever show.

She looked over at the man. No, he was a doctor. The man was a doctor. It went back to being dark again. Where had he gone? She cannot breath. It hurts too much. Her eyes feel heavy. Where did the light go? She wants the light back. The doctor covers her up with the blanket.

“We lost her,” the doctor told the nurses standing around her.

2 comments:

Dave Connors said...

Hi Megan,

Found this blog from the aspiring author group on FB.

I really like this short story.

I recently started a social network for aspiring authors - www.iliterati.com - i'd love it if you checked it out and considered signing up.

Megan Held said...

Thank you so much for the information. It looks like a sight that I am interested in joining. It is a fantastic idead. Also, thank you for liking my story.

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