Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts

Friday, June 3, 2016

Day 3: The Magic Dust (Short Story)

Every day in the spring there was this little girl in the field sprinkling glitter over the same patches of dirt and for days on, nothing would grow. The old man, who was a farmer that lived next door, would watch her sprinkle glitter every day at the same hour but would act as if he did not see her. Until one rainy day, the little girl did not show up. Concerned that something had happened, the old man went next door to where she lived and found her sitting on her front porch with her head between her knees. The older man, with one foot on the step and his cane holding the remainder of his weight, sat down next to her. In silence, the trickling of the rain filled the void. Instantaneously, the little girl lifted her head to find that the older man was watching the rain droplets hit the ground one after the other.
“Can I ask you a question?” asked the little girl as she swatted a mosquito away.
The old man simply nodded.
“Why don’t you plant corn anymore? Momma would always talk about the days she would play in your corn when she was little and you would yell at her to get out. You even told her that you were going to cut her ear off if you found her!”
The old man let out a chuckle which soon faded into the same straight face he arrived with. Turning towards the little girl, he replied with a question of his own.
“Why is it that every day for the past two months you have been in my garden sprinkling glitter on the same patches of dirt? That dirt has not been able to support life for the last fifteen years. And do not go on and tell me that you have not been in my garden because I can see you from my front porch.”
The little girl as bashful as she can be, cleared her throat and answered straight away.
“For two months, Papa has not been home. Momma told me he left for an important job. I thought Momma would be very happy for Papa but she has been very sad and has been sleeping almost all day since he went. Nana just tells me that she is really tired but that Nana and Momma loves me very much. So I thought sprinkling magic dust in your garden would bring back the corn and it would make Momma happy again.”
The old man was speechless. Magic dust? Perhaps no one has bothered to tell the little girl that glitter and magic dust were not the same, that there was no such thing as magic dust. But the old man kept quiet and allowed the little girl to keep her belief in the magic dust. He had no idea that his corn had brought out more abundance than what he intended to. For the past thirty years, the old man has been living on his own and it was not until fifteen years ago that he fell ill and was not able to take care of the farm on his own. During his recovery, no one attended the farm and the crops one by one withered away. With that being said, the old man no longer had the motivation to continue growing crops even with the help of his sons and grandsons. What remained of his farm were patches of uneven dirt.
“Hey mister! Now it is your turn to answer my question!”
The old man nods and began to speak.
“I guess I just ran out of magic dust. Do you think you can share with me some of your magic dust?”
Just like that the little girl excitedly ran inside her house and pulled out a red wagon filled with assorted containers of glitter labeled in magic marker as “magic dust” and before she headed down the stairs of her front porch, she grabbed a small vile of magic dust and handed it to the old man.

“Sometimes I like to carry a little bit of magic dust around with me just in case.” smiled the little girl. 

...

Everybody needs a little bit of magic dust in their life to keep their sparkle.
xx Chavelita

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Scenario: Eliminate the should haves

But do you know what this means? Have you considered about the dangers you are about to place onto yourself? How will I break this to your family? You will not be able to turn back to the life you have grown up to know. All this time you spent struggling to find out what specialties make you stand out from the rest only to realize that those talents are yours to keep. Talents that nobody can steal from you. Everything that you once knew will simply float away with the rest of your unspoken thoughts.

From the look in your eyes I know you had plenty to say I only wish you expressed them instead of having them consume your every motivation. If I were to write a eulogy for you I wouldn’t even know where I begin… 

Should I begin with the day we met? That hot summer morning on my way to my Grandmother’s house and you were just moving into the house next door? I still remember we were about twelve both looking confused as ever when our eyes locked into place for the first time because frankly our neighborhood barely had any new residents.  Our town was only a spec on the map, even with a magnify glass you could barely see us. Of the odds though you were the only person I was able to confide myself to and I am not sure if it was because we both came from tough pasts of losing a parent before we were even able to walk or because you found me crying on the front porch that night when my father had too much to drink. You didn’t even ask me any questions, you only split your cherry Popsicle in half and handed me the other half. We both sat there licking away while the rest of the world was crumbling before our eyes. Even though you did not speak a lot, your gestures did speak for themselves and when you did speak I was always left in dismay. Just like that one time someone decided to vandalize my locker with the words "heifer" and "moo" scattered onto my locker and with the only thought that came to my mind was how much of a loser I was. But then you said…

“Carly, you mustn’t be so hard on yourself there are plenty of people out there who already wants to make you miserable. Don’t be on their side; you have way too much to offer to just have it be wasted in self-pity. Come on say it with me. Team Carly! I am not hearing you! TEAM CARLY!”

To this day I can still hear you chanting “team Carly” and in all honesty you saved my life. For once I was able to remove the blanket I had been using to cover my mirror and gave myself a good look. I wept as though I was in shock in seeing an old friend and smiling and laughing for being ever so grateful of being alive to experience this moment. You were able to find the Carly I had lost since I was fourteen. 

Or should I begin on our first day of school? We were both assigned to the same teacher Mrs. Flowers and as our little joke we would always bring a flower because her last name was Flowers and we would place it on her desk without being caught. Most of the time her desk was cluttered with flower petals but I don't think that had bothered Mrs. Flowers. Being anonymous at that time seemed more exciting and bad butt than simply leaving flowers out in the open. We did things not to seek attention but more to see how others would react. Our classmates always sent out odd expressions in our direction but I didn’t care as long as I was spending time with you. Then during recess I would stand on your shoulders to peer out of the windows to see Mrs. Flowers sniffing the yellow rose we had given her that day and you would beg me to get off as your legs wobbled uncontrollably. We were only kids without a clue that we were making a difference in Mrs. Flowers’s life. 

So this is why I need you to wake up Nate. I need you to know of how much you impacted my life and how much you have caused ripples in other people’s lives. No one knows your story more than you do. To be part of your story is the same as saying that I was only the icing to the cake, but in reality many people come to eat the cake because that is where most of the richness comes from. Your mother right now has been sleeping in an uncomfortable seat next to you for the past three days with a fear that if she leaves, that she may not be able to see you or even have a chance to say goodbye. Please do not make me say goodbye. Please… I am not ready; I should have told you that I love you when I had the chance. I should have known better not to have let you leave my house when you said you needed space. I should have kept an eye out for you to know that you arrived home safely because I know you would have done the same. You were always the strong one. So strong, that not even your best friend was able to tell that you were screaming for help. I am so so sorry, Nate. I wish you can acknowledge how awful I feel for not doing the best I can, I should have done better. I cannot forgive myself for being so careless and I cannot even imagine how terrified your mother had felt when she found you in the tub next to empty bottles of pain killers. I really wish you would have told me about the battles you have been fighting; maybe I could have done something to help. Even if I was no help in conquering I could have been the supplier. Now I am wondering if I will ever see your dark brown eyes again, the same ones I have grown to love more each day since we met.

Just know that this is your final battle and no one can decide for you. It is your choice whether you want to live to see what else life has to offer or to close the book. But if you were to ask me, I still think you have plenty to write in your book. For now, I’ll just leave your other half of the cherry Popsicle right here.
_________________________________________________________________________________

I have always had a terrible time writing stories because of my writer's block sneaking up at me whenever I get the writing bug. Which is why I prefer to write poems, or short stories because they get straight to the point. If you did not get the main topic of this short story I wanted to center it around suicide and how many things are left incomplete in the act. "Eliminate the should haves" as straightforward of a title can be, instead of saying the should haves when the person has the crossed the line of no return, we should constantly be telling the ones we love that we do love and appreciate them. We cannot read minds so of course we would not know what the person is going through but we also should not wait until the last minute to be confessing the love we have to one another.

For those going through tough times just know that there is always help out there. I am sure there are people who are willing to listen to what you have to say and if you cannot find a family member or a friend you can always call, you can even text the suicide hotline if you do not feel like talking and one of their representatives will gladly be there to assist you. Here is some information that can be useful.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline in the United States:
1 (800) 273-8255

National Suicide Prevention Hotline in United Kingdom:
+44 (0) 8457 90 90 90 (UK - local rate)

National Suicide Prevention Hotline in France:
01 45 39 40 00

National Suicide Prevention Hotline in Russia:
007 (8202) 577-577

If you cannot find your country here is a list of Suicide Hotlines you can find them on this website:
International Suicide Hotlines

You are not alone, keep that in mind and if you are having suicidal thoughts please speak up. Being scared is okay but holding dangerous and damaging thoughts and information is not.

Love you all! You are all stronger than you think, do not forget that!




xx Chavelita