Only a Story

Beginnings, beginnings. I stared at the piece of paper in front of me and smiled. It was blank still but soon I would fill it up with wonderful words. Sumptuous, beautiful, quenching words. But what to write about? All I ever wrote about was love. Someone to sweep me off my feet. That was the way it was. Me and Tarah, we were like two peas in a pod when it came to writing. That was like all we ever talked about! We were such nerds, A Honor Roll and all that. But heck, that was us.

I sighed eventually, it just wouldn't flow today. Groaning, I turned to my backpack and emptied it of all my possessions, trying to find my sketchbook. I wanted to draw some anime. I remember the one I drew of this chick off of a show called Negima!. It was one of my best so far.

But while doing so, I came across something that I hadn't expected. A small piece of paper fluttered to the floor. Looking at it curiously, I bent down to pick it up and inspect it. Slightly crumpled, and worn. Hmmm, maybe a note. I opened it up to come across a page full of dancing words.

This was no simple letter. I skimmed over it, my eyes widening with suspense and intrigue.

"It was a dark night, but how could that be used to describe it? Couldn't the author find a more imaginative word? Something like menacing, or haunting even. Grim? Black and lifeless, stone cold and dead. That was what the night felt like to Holly Byre. Her short blond hair seemed dull and lifeless with no sun to bring out it's shine.
She normally would never be here. But after all, she was never one to back out of something. The long, wide sleeves of her dress caught on brambles and bushes as she traversed the graveyard. It seemed perilous, her decision she wanted to make. Why would she ever do that? She wouldn't. But it wasn't her choice this time.
The soft wind whispered ghostly wails as it wafted through the trees. Threading in and out between her fingers. Making her dress billow out before me like a sheet on the line to dry. She smiled at the leaves from the withered trees that swirled around her. Guiding her to her destination."

I sat there in awe at the captivating story. The last words at the very bottom of the page stuck in my mind. Taunting me.

To be continued...

Not to be outdone I had just the idea of what to do. I wasn't sure if this was what the author intended but it was certainly what I intended. I picked up my pen and put it to the paper. Smiling all the while at the havoc I wanted to wreak, by writing this story.

"Her destination was not far, just past the next gravestone. They seemed to hold a special quality for her. Like the person whose name was written on the lump of stone was coming back. To haunt her. Or anyone else who set foot in this cursed place. She stepped carefully, so as not to make a sound that would alert anyone of her coming. She did not want anyone to know she was here. Only a few more feet, and she would be there, only a little longer.
Holly looked like she could come out of the grave herself, with her deathly white pallor and slender frame. She would dream about living somewhere away from here, sunny and bright, not a graveyard in sight. Where she could walk out onto the beach every morning and greet the warm, crisp air.
But here the air was only dank and damp. Nothing warm and inviting, just cold and foreboding. But it was where she was, only a few more steps.... Just a few..."

I grinned as I put down the pen and looked over my handywork. It was good enough. I wondered how the person would react when I found the way to get it back to them. What should I do? Put it back in my locker? Probably not.

But before I put it back in my bag I made sure to write three words to finish it off.

To be continued....