new story's prologue

I sat on the couch, my legs tucked under my body, my head resting on the soft pillow. The whole world was raining. Clear drops of water plunged from the stormy gray sky, mixing with the dust as they hit the ground. Waterfalls streamed from my eyes. My mother always said that my eyes were a gray, but my father disagreed. He said they looked like smoke reaching up towards a murky sky. I liked my father’s explanation better. It always comforted me, to think that I was smoke, dancing in the clouds as a fire flickered below me. When I thought of myself like that, I was invincible. I could do anything I wanted to, go where I wanted to go. And then I am pulled back to earth, where I am just another silly little girl waiting to grow up.  Waiting to stand alone like a great oak on the top of a grassy hill, unbending to the roaring winds that cause its vibrant leaves to blow up and down, up and down. Once upon a time I was that strong. At least I thought I was. But blow by blow, I have become weak. I have become the girl curled up on her couch just crying.

The whole thing started 2 years ago. I was 13 years old and all I wanted was my fourteenth birthday. And my fifteenth. And my sixteenth. Then I wanted to jump in a car and zoom off into the distance, and never see my town again.

You’ve probably heard the expression, “Anytown, USA.” My town is as close as you can get to being this phrase. Personally, I think the founders originally meant it to be called anytown and just had some really strong accents, and said Amytown. My history teacher begs to differ. 

Anyway, I pretty much live in the middle of nowhere. Well, I live in the middle of Ohio, but it’s the same thing, in a way. 

It’s funny, here in Amytown, we make a big deal about ourselves. Apparently, a famous person got lost and rode through here a hundred years ago, so now we all think we are amazing. As it turns out, most towns have been passed through by at least one famous person. We usually try to sidestep that fact, and think we’re special, that someday we’ll be big Hollywood stars, striding along a red carpet. There are a lot of liars in Amytown.

So there I was, thirteen years old, living in a tiny town, going to school every day and coming home, and most people in the world not even knowing or caring who I was.

A Journey by Night

               Wheels roll over a gravelly rode as deep-blue paint peels off of the bus. The moon illuminates the windows of the ever-moving vehicle. Heads on glass, two woman sleep, hoping dawn brings a destination.

               The face of one is smooth and sweet, glowing with gentle youth. She is eagerly taking her first steps into the real world. She runs from place to place, wanting to experience it all, to take it all in. Tonight, she grows up, leaving her childhood in a cloud of dust.

              The face of the other is lined with pain. She has seen the world, and walked on the filthy streets of thousands of cities. For each strand of gray hair, she has a story to tell of her past, of the people who danced in and out of her life, never stopping to say hello. Clouded memories roam aimlessly through her soul, each one stooped in exhaustion, each one yearning to rest. Tonight, her final wish is granted. Tonight, she journeys home.

Try at dialouge: 2

SETTING: PEOPLE WALKING IN AND OUT OF STORES AND ALONG SIDEWALK IN GREAT HURRY. BACK DROP OF STORES. 

(two women, carrying large bags, both in a rush, run smack into each other as they look at their phones)

Denise: (not looking up) Oh, excuse me. Sorry.

Juliet: My fault. Excuse- (looks up for a second, and grabs Denise's shoulder.) Oh my god, Denise! I haven't seen you since we graduated!

Denise: (looks up, confused) wha-

Juliet: We shared a dorm in freshman year, and then saved up money to share an apartment...

Denise: (shocked) Juliet?

Juliet: The one and only!

Denise: Oh my, long time no see!

Juliet: You know, I thought you went straight to New York after college!

Denise: (glumly) I did. I starred in a musical: “chocolate kisses,” about a girl named Jenna who dates men for their money.

Juliet: Why Denise, that’s wonderful!

Denise: The New York Times gave it one star. One!

Juliet: But it was a start! Imagine the things you could have done! You were on the way to living a dream.

Denise:(far off) Yes. It was my dream once. But what did I know? I was a little girl lost in a big city.

Juliet: You would have found your way, with time. I can see you now in my mind, on a big Broadway stage, belting out the opening number to an enraptured crowd. Boy, could you sing.

Denise: (sighs, displeasured with direction of conversation) That was a long time ago, Juliet. I have a little girl and a husband, and I am as happy as I ever dreamed of.

Juliet: You don’t sound happy.

Denise: You have a lot of nerve to come here and tell me how I should have run my life. We don’t even know each other, not anymore.

Juliet: We were best friends once, Denise. We did everything together. You would sing and dance, while I filmed you and edited it. We were two girls with big dreams of fame and fortune.

Denise: (eager to change subject) Oh, yeah! I almost forgot! How did your dreams of filming and directing movies workout?

Juliet: Wonderfully, actually. I don’t work in Hollywood, but I film documentaries here. 

Denise: Sounds like your life fell right into place, the way you always imagined it.

Juliet: Not exactly. My apartment gets cold and lonely at night...

Denise: You still haven’t found a man that suits you?

Juliet: No... I’m working on it. I’ve been seeing a man named Darren lately. It’s nothing serious, but I’m hopeful that it will bloom into something more.

Denise: I hope so too, for your sake.

(The two women look at each other for a moment.)

Juliet: I think we’re blocking the sidewalk, but I’d love to catch up with you more. Do you want to go for a coffee?

Denise: I’d love to, but I have to go watch my daughter’s dance recital. 

Juliet: (wistfully) Things sure have changed since college...

Denise: Yeah, they really have.

Juliet: I’d better get going.

Denise: Me too. (hands Juliet piece of paper) Call me. We should make a time to catch up. I could introduce you to my husband and daughter.

Juliet: That sounds nice. 

Denise: Can’t wait!

(the two women bustle off in different directions)

Dialouge: Try 1

BEDTIME

(Ama is sitting in rocking chair reading. Miri is on the floor playing with doll. Kari is writing something in a diary. Stanley is reading newspaper in arm chair. All in living room)

Ama:(sitting in arm chair, reading book. Addresses Miri) Time for bed, butterfly.

Miri: (sitting on the floor, playing with porcelain doll) But mama, I want to stay up late like everyone else!

Ama: (smiles) Little butterflies must go to bed early so they have energy in the morning.

Miri: (pouting) But Kari doesn’t have to go to bed, and she’s not a grown-up yet!

Kari: (aloof) Yes, Miri, but I’m 10 years old. Thats 4 whole years older then you. Maybe when you’re 10 like me you can stay up late too.

Ama: You should be getting to bed too, Kari.

Kari: Mama, That’s not fair! I’m big enough to stay up with you guys! Right Daddy?

Stanley: (looks up from paper) Listen to your mother.

Miri: (yawning) No way! I’m not tired! (folds arms defiantly)

Ama: Okay, then. Stay up as late as you want. But you won’t get the special treat. It will go to some other little girl.

Miri:(suddenly interested) Special treat?

Ama: yes, butterfly, a very special treat. I’ll go and buy it for you tomorrow. Something very sugary and sweet!

Miri. Okay! (Miri runs up stairs, doll under her arm)

Kari: That may work on her, but I won’t fall for it anymore. 

Ama: Didn’t you say you wanted that new CD? Because I saw a copy of it at the store today...

Kari: Would you really get it for me?

Ama: Yes, but you said you’re too big to go to bed early, so I guess you’re also too big for me to get you the CD. Oh well...

Kari: Okay, okay! You win! I’ll go to bed! (storms upstairs, carrying diary)

Stanley: (peering out from behind the newspaper) Well done Ama. I thought they were gonna win you over for sure!

Ama: Yes, I am good at getting them to bed.

Stanley: (standing up and folding newspaper) Lets go tuck them in.

Ama: (closing book) That is a brilliant idea.

(the lights fade out as Ama and Stanley walk up the stairs.)

Beneath My Bed

Toys,

Dolls, 

Favorite bedtime stories, 

Read again and again until the pages are curled and stained.

The dust settles on these objects, these soul.

In this surreal, desolate, berth,

Forgotten daydreams linger, 

Amongst memories of a playtime long past.

-- Emma Bernstein

Charolette:Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Bella

I began to cry. I was crying because I was so close to home, yet so far away. I was crying because I didn’t know when I would ever see home again, and I was crying because I felt so alone.

“Why do you cry?”

I jumped at the voice. The words creeped shyly out of the seemingly empty darkness.

“I was surprised to see a new child here. It’s been just me for so many years... more than anyone has dared to count.” 

The voice was enchanting. Not in the same way as Caliya’s. This voice seemed to lift me up. Still, Caliya’s voice had seemed comforting... I had to find the source.

“Who are you? Why are you here?,” I asked warily.

“My formal name is Isabella Grace. You may call me Bella. As for your second question, I am here for the same reason as you. Nothing. I was walking down the street, carrying a basket of warm bread from the bakery, just skipping and being naive, when ‘she’ came. She told me I was awfully thin, and that I needed a good meal in me. Her voice... it soothed me. I wanted to follow her for some reason. I realized too late the monster that she is.”

As Bella spoke, her frail body stepped out of the shadow.

From her height and face it seemed as though she was about my age, twelve or thirteen, but her eyes told me that I was wrong. They were full of the pain and sorrow of a wasted life. She had been beautiful once, and some of that beauty lingered in her delicate body. 

I moved to wipe my eyes, but Bella reached up and stopped my hand.

“Don’t be ashamed of your tears. Crying is healthy. tI takes your mind off things.”

Suddenly, I realized how hungry I was.

“Bella, how often does Caliya feed us?”

She looked taken aback by the question. “If your question concerns time, I am not the right person to ask. I lost track long ago. But, I can estimate that she feeds us once or twice a day.”

As I sighed discontentedly, the heavy iron door creaked open. Caliya’s handsome head poked in, an evil smile smeared across her face.

I felt anger rise in my chest. This horrible, terrible woman had taken me away from every thing I loved, had ripped me from my life. I couldn’t just lie on the floor and play pathetic. 

I lunged at her, choking in frustration. She cooly dodged my blow.

“Young girls like you shouldn’t behave that way. Stop this instant, or you shan’t have any supper!”

She mocked me. I renewed my sobbing as she kicked my side.

“Bella, come talk with me. You’re much more tamed than that one. I think I will give you some of that dinner the chef was making”

My mouth dripped at the mention of dinner, but I forced myself not to beg. I couldn’t give Caliya the satisfaction.

Bella grimaced as Caliya gripped her thin shoulder.

I cried silently to my self as darkness overcame the slit of light that marked the slightly open door, and a somber Bella disappeared from my view.

Rainy Night

I toss and turn,

Trying to find the perfect position.

The rain taps against my window,

Singing softly to me.

The cold tries to creep in,

But I pull my blanket tighter around me,

Shutting it out.

My ears open to the musical rain,

And I allow it to fill me,

To close my eyelids.

I slip into the melody of night.