Author Topic: 700 words or close to it  (Read 963 times)

Offline jimmyboyglue

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700 words or close to it
« on: May 14, 2007, 11:11:34 PM »


   At his young age, his mother’s death struck him much like a violent storm. His father stood in the hospital waiting room, staring at the envelope his wife handed him before her passing. She made him promise to not open the letter until the arrival of her last day.
   The child’s mother was a beautiful woman. She was not at all tall, standing right at five feet or so. She had deep green eyes that seemed to rest perfectly in harmony with her long, silky black hair. She was always kind, loving, and always had a kiss for every bad day that her child would encounter.
   Father loved Mother. He loved her because of her love for him. They both loved their little boy. After her long sickness, and subsequent death, he could tell that Father would soon undergo change. Although, it was too early into the tragedy to tell if it would have a positive or negative effect on him.
   “Go home with your Grandmother, son.” He placed the envelope in his pocket and began walking down the hallway of the hospital. Even though the boy was only five, he knew what had happened. He understood that there would be no way to ever see his mother again. But the child  knew that he had to ask, just once. No one had told him specifically. They whispered to his father, and he just knew.
   “Sir,” the boy tugged at the doctor’s lab coat. “Is my mommy ok?”
   The man was meek in his weight, but not in height. He was not as fierce-looking as his father always was, but when he peered down the answer his question, the man’s eyes watered and he just shook his head.
   The held his grandmother’s hand, who was still in the process of taking the whole situation in. The doctor walked away, following the nurse into his office.
   “Come boy, let’s go home.” She said, walking slowly towards the exit.
    Upon arriving at home, the old lady took rest upon the couch, and instructed the boy to do the same in his own bedroom. The boy was hesitant at first, and with good cause. His mother’s room was just across mine in the long dark hallway, of which he now confronted.
   The house was not normally this dim, but I believed that it missed Mother to, and was just showing emotion.
   The house was a newly-built one story house, dead-center of a middle class neighborhood. The boy’s father always complained of it looking like all the rest. It had dark wood covering the exterior, giving the house a dark red glow when the sun was to depart. On the inside, however, his mother painted a bright red setting. Her husband did not object to the color, he knew she loved the more up-beat feel to the house.
   All drapes had been closed that day, and all lights had been shut-off. The hallway had one window at the end, showing only a light-blue glow fading two feet into the hallway.
   The boy could remember past times of this hallway. For his third birthday, his mother and father saved up some money and bought him a red fire engine. It was wonderful. He carried that toy everywhere as if it was a new puppy, or brother.
   I am five now, he thought. I can face this hallway. I can face Mother’s bedroom.
 
   When arriving at his room’s door, he yielded to take a quick stare at his mother’s room. The door was closed.
   “Mother?” He whispered.
   The boy took two steps closer to the door and the light faded at the end of the hallway. It felt as if he were being sucked into a dream.
   His heart raced and felt like it was bursting right out of his chest. That room held her. Yes, the doctors may have had her, but they could never take her from her bed. The door was closed. God, bless the door.
   “Mother?”  He called, positioning himself directly in front of the door.
   “Are you feeling better, Mother?” The boy placed his small ear on the door and his heart increased its violent beating.
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Offline Mayday

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Re: 700 words or close to it
« Reply #1 on: May 16, 2007, 05:46:18 AM »
Hi jimmyboyglue,

There's definitely something good happening here...nobody can resist a heart felt story about a young child loosing his mother. Interested to know how he copes with it in the future.

Can I make a small suggestion? You use the words father, mother and boy repeatedly and it tended to take away from the story I felt. Is it your intention to not give them names, at least the boy? Giving a name to a character very often helps us bond to them.

Just a thought, keep writing!

M.

Offline jimmyboyglue

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Re: 700 words or close to it
« Reply #2 on: May 17, 2007, 12:38:23 PM »
yeah, i tend to get repetitive with alot of things, and for some reason when i wrote the story, i didn't want to use names, but now that you mention it i understand how the story could have benefited from the boys name at least. thank you so much for reading! i hope to see some more stuff.
Run from reality