So, This is What Happens When I Try to Write a Short Story

Yeah, there’s not much I can elaborate on for this post. The title explains pretty much everything. But, I guess I’ll try. I think I wrote this one day in class when I was bored and just happened to be working on a laptop. An idea had popped into my head, however I didn’t have enough of an idea to make a full book out of, so I tried to put bits and pieces of it into a short story.

You should be warned, though: I have been told (many, many times) that my short stories in themselves are more like excerpts of a larger novel and they don’t have much of an ending, leaving people hanging. Like I mentioned in my previous post, short stories are hard, and this is what usually happens.

Here we go.

 

Storm winced visibly as the liquid scrambled over the wound on her leg, layering over it to try and heal the cut the best it could. It was a golden colour, and it glowed slightly. Storm leaned her forehead against her knee, sighing as she sat in the dark room.

She thought she was alone.

A small gasp reached Storm’s ears, causing her to look up. There stood a little girl. She was no older than six or seven, with a ponytail and currently wide, frightened eyes. She gave a high pitched scream and turned on her heel to run back out the door.

Storm cursed softly under her breath and stretched out her hand towards the girl. The golden liquid sent some of itself up her leg and across her arm, then it jumped from her wrist and went flying. The substance shot across the room like an arrow and slammed the door shut.

“You’re-you’re one of those,” the little girl whispered, backing away. “You’re an alien!”

“I’m not,” Storm said.

“Are too!” the girl squealed. “You have that… that…”

“Kyronix?” Storm suggested helpfully, holding up her arm again to show the golden substance, which was now coiled around it like a spring.

“Yeah! That!” the girl agreed, still looking for a way to get out.

“It doesn’t make me an alien.” Storm slowly approached the girl, like one would a wounded animal. She wanted to make herself look as less like a threat (or an alien) as possible, so she let the Kyronix run up her sleeve and out of sight on her back. She also rolled down her right pant leg of her jeans to cover her wound.

Storm crouched down once she was near the girl. “How much do you know about Kyronixens?”

“Not much,” the little girl mumbled. Storm noticed that she had a small sparkly purse clutched in her hand, with the name Emily stitched across it. “Only that they get their magic from the aliens.”

There she went again with the aliens. Storm let out a tiny groan.

“That is completely wrong,” she said with a shake of her head. “Kyronix is a substance from space, granted, but it wasn’t sent by any aliens. Each piece of Kyronix has a symbiotic relationship with its user.”

“Sim-bee-oric?” Emily said slowly, looking up at Storm in confusion.

“Never mind.” Storm leaned back on her haunches. “Just, please don’t tell anyone about this. It could put me in serious danger.”

Emily hesitated.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone,” Storm assured her. Slowly, Emily nodded.

“Okay… I won’t. I promise.” A pause. “Can I see it?”

Storm stared at her, surprised. She nodded and mentally made the Kyronix return to the palm of her hand. She held it out and both she and Emily could see flecks of red and blue appear before blending into the swirl of gold.

“I’ve never heard of one being that colour before,” Emily said in fascination.

“Yeah, it’s pretty rare. But…” Storm extended her hand. “Touch it and see what happens.”

Emily was obviously very apprehensive about coming into contact with Kyronix of any amount, however her curiosity outweighed her carefulness. She poked a tiny finger into it as if she were testing the temperature of a pool.  

“It feels kinda like water, but more solid,” she announced to Storm in awe. Storm grinned.

“Wait until you see what happens next,” she told the little girl. A moment later, the golden Kyronix turned a bright and bubbly pink.

Emily’s eyes widened. “Did I do that?”

“Yep,” Storm said, and explained. “It changes colour depending on what it’s touching.”

“Cool,” Emily breathed. She retracted her hand, and Storm’s Kyronix turned back to gold. Storm rolled her pant leg back up and pressed the Kyronix covered hand to her cut, and when she moved the hand away the Kyronix stayed to do it’s work. Storm looked up to see that Emily was still there.

“You can go now, if you want.” Storm gestured to the door. “I won’t block you again. I trust you to keep my secret.” Emily chewed her lip and looked to the exit, then back at Storm.

“I’ll stay here with you until your leg gets better,” she said. Emily sat down next to Storm and they waited, watching the Kyronix slowly heal the bleeding wound.

(Seven hundred and twenty nine words…That’s standard for a short story, right?)

2 thoughts on “So, This is What Happens When I Try to Write a Short Story”

  1. Hi Rhapsody
    You couldn’t believe how much I enjoy your stories. What an imagination💝

Comments are closed.