SSC, Mandax vs Firewriter 23 vs Hakeem - Writers Forum

Atom · 08-16-2006, 06:45 PM

Rules:
1. Stories must be shorter than 800 words.
2. Stories must pertain to the given topic.
3. Stories must be completed within the given time frame.
4. After the stories are completed, voters should give feedback on the stories and vote for which one they like best.
5. First of the writers to get 5 votes for their story as #1 is the winner.

STORIES WILL BE PMED TO ME AND I WILL POST THEM ALL TOGETHER WITHOUT THE NAMES TO PROTECT AGAINST BIASED JUDGING.

Stories are Due August 21

Topic: The Coffin

Good Luck

mandax · 08-16-2006, 09:01 PM

I already submitted my entry, because I'm going to be really busy for the next few days. Good luck to everyone!

Hakeem · 08-17-2006, 06:21 AM

Oh I didn't begin yet. Good luck as well.

Fantasy of You · 08-17-2006, 06:29 AM

Lol, you have another SSC running, but I guess that will get ignored now, huh? Not important enough or something, Atom?

Anyhoo, good luck everyone. And I don't think the posting to you is even necessary. It's just more faffing for no reason. *shurgs*

zoya_brar · 08-17-2006, 09:41 AM

Best of luck guys! I am going to judge this one!

cacafire · 08-17-2006, 10:24 AM

Good luck.

-Cacafire

Hakeem · 08-19-2006, 03:06 PM

I just sent mine to Atom. Firewriter23 left..

Good luck.

Atom · 08-19-2006, 03:54 PM

All have been sent. I'll post the stories in a minute.

Can everyone please vote on the SSC with Vulgar, Lorlie, and Cafca.

Atom · 08-19-2006, 04:15 PM

A.

Death is a fragile thing, once avoided; it affords us tremendous freedom, but once life is lost, it's impossible to recover. Yet it's a mystery that somehow death is unpredictable, we never know when it happens. It could be startling as flash of light, or could be lingering, leaving us hanging to the last shreds of our sanity. After all, it's only ironic how Steven lay in his coffin, hoping death will move an inch closer.

Steven well understood that death is inevitable, a pledge made to each of us at birth, whether we lead the finest of lives drowning in our luxuries, or whether we stand hunched at the margin. Though the one thing he endured thinking about at the moment is how death never came until now.

He lay inside, thinking about his life. He never really accomplished anything remarkable, or did anything people would remember him by. Steven Glea led a normal life with his wife and his two kids, everyday polishing the routine a little more, leaving it gleaming with perfection. He never was the man to look at the bright side, neither the person to see the class half full, he was always the cheerless guy awaiting what was left of his life, his empty life. He never understood the meaning of happiness, and never sought it.

That being said, it remains only fair to do Steven justice. He was the person never wavering; the loyal husband and the perfect father. He was always there for anyone, yet no one was there for him. It all started when he was a delicate boy at the age of nine, when his older sister passed away. She represented everything beautiful in the world to him; in everybody's eyes she was little, though she stood tall in his. He was always with her; he loved her not only like his sister, but as a best friend. He vividly remembers the day when time came and picked her away, leaving him lonely and broken.

Since then, he never placed his trust in anyone, his thoughts and emotions were always locked in his head, impossible to reach. He eyed everything suspiciously, always kept his distance, and always walked away from pleasure. Nothing could ever protect him, nothing except for this coffin.

Outside of the coffin, a small group of people congregated around it. Some were crying and sobbing, like Steven's wife, and some stood still, saddened by the sudden departure. They all stood around the coffin saying their last goodbyes to a man who contributed to their lives in one way or another. Everyone now realized that a time will come when they will have to say goodbye to the world they once knew, goodbye to everything they held dear and precious, goodbye to the loved ones who never abandoned them.

Minutes later, people slowly started to disappear, leaving the black coffin behind them. It stood there, silent and still, carrying the meaning of death in its insides. September's wind started to sway against the casket, leaving no glimmer of hope that anyone would hear what was within.

Hours passed and Steven still lay awake, awaiting the inevitable to come. He never imagined his life will end like this, never imagined to leave his loved ones so suddenly. He always embraced life as it came, and looked forward for what was yet to come. He wept inside the coffin, not out of fear, but out of misery. He never got the chance to tell his wife how much he loved her, or to hug his children so tight for them to know how much he cared. He wept for his life that passed so fast, yet so still and dreary. He wept for the void it had created, the void that could never be filled. He wept on until he took his last breath, until he was no more.

B.

I sat there, for what seemed like eternity, staring at the coffin. Inside the coffin contained my best friend, my one true love, my soul mate. If only he knew. I couldn’t imagine what my life was going to be like now without him. If only I would have told him my feelings, he would still be alive.

Why didn’t I tell him how I feel? Why did I let him leave? Why can’t he just wake up right now and tell me he loves me? I asked myself these questions everyday since the second I found out he died.

[:: Flashback::]

“Rob, why don’t you stay the night? It will be like old times, sleep in the same bed and watch movies until morning.” I said to him. He was tired and I knew as well as anyone that he couldn’t drive when he’s tired.

“No, I’ll be fine. I don’t want your roommates to come back and start stupid rumors.”
I sighed. I knew that no matter how hard I tried, I wouldn’t win with him.

“Oh, alright, but you better call me the second you get home.”

“Don’t worry so much, I’ll be just fine. See you later.”

Rob kissed my cheek like he did all the time and walked out the door.

[:: End flashback::]

Warm tears started to roll down my face. I couldn’t believe it was all over just like that. His life ended so quickly, and he didn’t even know it was going to happen.
I watch as people poured into the room, sobbing horribly. I quickly wiped away my tears as Rob’s parents came up to the front of the room. They nodded at me as they took their seats in the row in front of me.

I stood up grabbing a tissue from the box on my way up to the coffin. I slowly turned to face the crowd of people. Some I recognized, some I didn’t.

“Rob was, as you may already know, a great guy. The best one I’ve ever met in my entire life. He was always kind to others, even if they weren’t so kind back. He always tired to help any situation in anyway that he could. I considered Rob as my best friend. “

I stopped for a second to catch myself from crying. I could hear Rob’s mother sobbing in the front row. I tried hard not to look at them, because I didn’t want to start crying myself. “Rob was one of those people that always wanted things to be better no matter what. He strived for the good in life. I loved him very much. “

I stopped once more but not because I was about to cry, it was because everyone was screaming and running out of the room. I turned around as fast as I could…

I sat bolt up in my bed, tears streaming down my face, heart racing at the speed of light.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
I smiled at the sound of his voice. It was a dream, a normal dream.

“Rob, I had this horrible dream, you died and all I kept thinking about was not getting a chance to tell you I love you and that you’re my soul mate…”

Rob sat there in silence for a minute before he responded.

“I love you too, Melanie.”

“Melanie? Are you okay?”

I shook my head. Rob’s mother was standing in front of me holding some tissues in her hand.

“Were heading to the graveyard now…Would you like another minute alone with Rob?” She asked me.

I was speechless. I nodded slightly and watch her walk away.

I turned around, and there was the coffin that had Rob’s body in it. I walked over and held his hand one last time.

“I love you, Rob.” I kissed his lips, let go of his hand and left.

Rob was gone, now I was too. It was over. Now I’ve finished my story.

C.

There were only tree people at the funeral – a son, a daughter, and a “friend” that had the audacity to discuss stock exchanges on his state-of-the-art cellular phone. As the priest spoke under the autumn sun, the friend caused constant distraction. It was always the same cycle: his phone emitted a tinny jingle, he answered, he laughed, he insisted that now wasn’t a bad time, and he bid a grandeur, verbose farewell. The children reacted to this behavior by starting, fixated on the movement of his lips and the motions of his arms. The priest, possessing the only pair of mournful eyes, continued to talk. Maybe the corpse can hear me, he thought.

“Now that the funeral’s over, we can finally go over the conditions of the will!” exclaimed Anita to her brother as they walked across the park to their respective vehicles.

“We can do that tomorrow. We need our rest tonight.”

“The only thing I need a rest from is poverty!”

“Anita, we’re hardly in poverty,” said Wyatt.

“Depends on your definition of poverty,” Anita replied, smirking. Wyatt returned a weak smile.

The room’s furniture was dull, because of the wearing of age, but because of the apathy of purchase. The only object that attracted attention was the ceiling fan, solely because it was moving, and it was natural to spare a glimpse at an item in motion. The three inheritors sat on one side of the long, wooden table, and an attorney sat on the opposite side, who had a tiny stack of papers in front of him.

“So she actually left me something?” questioned James in disbelief.

“If she had known you weren’t going to attend her funeral, I’m sure she would have reconsidered,” said Wyatt.

James ignored him. “So where is this ruby necklace?”

“Unfortunately, she doesn’t say in her will, nor has it been located among her belongings,” said the attorney.

James quirked an eyebrow while his brother and sister smiled at one another.

“Knowing that old bat, she took it to the grave,” announced Anita coldly. James’ eyes widened dramatically.

“What did she wear? What is she wearing?”

“What are you blubbering ab-“

“In the coffin! What was she dressed in?”

“Her favorite floral dress,” answered Wyatt. “With a necklace…”

He stopped speaking. James hastily sprung out of his chair and to his car. The drive home was a quick one. He immediately located a large, bulky flashlight and a shovel, and got back into his car. His automobile tore through the black sky, speeding when possible. In what seemed like an eternity he had arrived at the cemetery. He easily jumped the fence and found his mother’s grave. He broke ground and dug for hours into the night, blinded by beads of salty sweat and panting to flow oxygen to his sore muscles. When his shovel’s tip came in contact with a hard substance, he began to dig frantically with his hands until the coffin was completely surfaced. A wide, crooked smile was plastered on his oily face. He opened the coffin and saw his rotting mother. The stench of decay was suffocating, but he did nothing to evade it. He tried to find the necklace that was rightfully his, but his mother’s neck was bare. At this realization, James closed the coffin and collapsed onto its smooth surface, tears stinging his eyes.

There was only one person at James’ funeral – the priest himself. He spoke like he did at his mother’s funeral, describing how even though it appeared that James hated his mother and his mother hated James, they still loved each other. That’s when he caught sight of the tombstone. It read, “James – A victim of Karma.” That script had not been there at the start of the funeral. He walked briskly to the mother’s tombstone which was only a few graves away. It read, “Lorraine – A victim of Karma.” The priest never preached again.

mandax · 08-19-2006, 04:16 PM

I thought the point of sending them to you was so that they'd be anonymous?

Edit: Haha, there you go. Man, now that I read mine, I see 29834792374 errors. That sucks.

Atom · 08-19-2006, 04:19 PM

lol yeh the second after i posted it, i went "oh shit!"

Hakeem · 08-19-2006, 04:32 PM

Is it ok to tell each other who are we?

Atom · 08-19-2006, 05:11 PM

Go ahead.

Firewriter23 · 08-19-2006, 11:42 PM

Wow, I read mine, then the other two, and mine sucks lol.

zoya_brar · 08-20-2006, 02:17 AM

There goes:

B
C
A

A: I have this strange feeling that this story is firewriter's!! Steven blea you mean. dont you

....!!! This was a very straightforward story with very little place for improvement. The interpretation was too direct. The story was also more of a philosophical view of life rather than an actual story, so it didnt go too well for me!

B - I loved the turn at the end of the story! I am a die hard romantic, so this story really appealed to me. I didnt like the end though, it seemed sort of abrupt.

C - This was a nice story, but quiet a few errors there. The first line said tree instead of three and things like that. Personally, errors like that really annoy me since it shows that the author didn't take the pain of re-reading it. But the concept was nice. The end was interesting.