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1st Place Winner — Wesley Sam Wallace
"How I Picture You"
I haven’t seen my father in a year.
The street’s covered in darkness with a nearby street light dimly lit. A man walks through the light, casting his shadow. This man has no car, this man has no one, this man has no life. This man is my father.
He walks to the nearby gas station. You can hear the sound of change rattling in his pocket as he takes a step forward. He opens the front door and tells the cashier that he wants a pack of cigarettes. The cashier reaches back and grabs the usual brand. The total rings up $5.58. He reaches into his pocket and grabs the change and a couple dollars in the mix and purchases the pack of cigarettes. He exits the gas station with a smile on his face.
He starts walking back to his home. The walk home is quiet. He pulls out a cigarette, sparks a flame and lights the cigarette.
On arrival to his home he opens the door to his one-room apartment. He crawls in bed and texts his sons in Raymore, Missouri. One doesn’t have a phone, one doesn’t reply, but one has full trust in him. He sends him hope, he sends him a fake father. He tells him he’s building a house. He tells him he’s moving down to Kansas City. My father falls to sleep.
He wakes up the next morning, nowhere to go and no job. He takes a cold shower to start the day. He grabs his cell phone and his empty wallet, then exits his one-room apartment. With nothing better in mind to do, he heads to his friend’s house.
At this house is alcohol, gambling, and stupid decisions. My father is losing everything he has. He’s drunk, playing cards and he doesn’t know what he is doing. He’s having the time of his life.
He throws his pre-paid cell phone money in, he loses it. Can’t talk to his sons anymore. He throws his cigarette money in, he loses it. He throws his alcohol money in, he loses it.
A day has passed. My father wakes up with nothing to do. He takes a cold shower and exits out of his one-room apartment with his cell phone he can’t pay for anymore and an empty wallet.
He begins his walk to the gas station. The walk is quiet. He opens the front door and tells the cashier that he wants a pack of cigarettes. The cashier reaches back and grabs the usual brand. The total rings up $5.58. He reaches into his pockets. The pockets are empty. The cashier puts the cigarettes back and my father exits the gas station with a face filled of discomfort.
Another day passed. My dad is on the streets, begging for money.
A man walks by and hands him a paper. The paper reads: “How I Picture You” by Wesley Sam Wallace . . .
2nd Place Winner – Shawnee Herdman
Alai
“This world holds so many secrets beneath its surface that, even if
we spent eternity searching for them, they might never turn up.”
“What do you mean, mister?” I asked the man. He was tall and had the
palest skin imaginable. His hair, dark as night, waved gently in the
wind.
“Heh,” the man chuckled to himself. “Such a curious child. Why do you
wish to understand that which even I do not fully comprehend?”
I bowed my head in embarrassment. “I do not pretend to know much, but
that which I don’t understand I would like to. So,” I raised my head
up toward the towering man that stood over me. “Please, can’t you tell
me what it means?”
The man sighed, but smiled a gentle smile that let me know he was
being patient. “Come.”
I picked up my basket full of meats and breads and ran after the man.
His strides were long and quick, but I was the fastest runner in this
town so I easily caught up to him. By the time we stopped, however, I
was gasping. When I finally regained my composure, I realized we were
no longer in the main district of town.
“Where--” I began but the man pulled me inside the nearest stone building.
“Be silent! We do not want anyone to overhear us or to find where I
live; it could mean chaos for all of us. Come along.” The man signaled
for me to follow him down some stone steps. I glanced nervously behind
me when I heard people approaching, but they did not stop and
continued on their way.
The steps led to an underground study filled with an assortment of
novels and parchment. A single chair was placed behind a wooden desk,
upon which rested a rather large leather bound book. It was red with
gold letters printed on its cover and its pages were worn and old.
“Child, if you’d rather stare than listen to what I have to tell you,
you can leave.”
I shook my head to escape my trance and walked over to the man’s
desk. I stood awkwardly beside him as he opened up the large book. The
pages rustled under his touch but, frail as they seemed, did not tear
as he quickly flipped through the pages. He did this until he arrived
at a page with a picture of a glowing necklace.
“Amazing! It’s so beautiful, mister, but what is its purpose?” I
asked, awestruck by the intricate details and otherworldly
craftsmanship of the jewelry. My hand ached to reach out and brush the
drawing, but I feared the man would become angered.
“This, child, is the Necklace of Light. Its equal,” the man said as
he turned the page to reveal an equally beautiful necklace but with a
more malevolent aura. “Is the Necklace of Darkness. The Necklace of
Light was created by a great sorceress named Alana, who imbedded the
jewelry with pure Light. Now, Alana’s sister, Andrea, also created a
necklace. However, Andrea was not the pure sorceress that her sister
was. No, Andrea was evil with a heart black as the night. She imbedded
her necklace with poison that would, when worn by a truly evil person,
release darkness out into the world that would last one hundred years
or more.
“Alana soon discovered Andrea’s horrendous deed and, wearing the
Necklace of Light, killed her sister to prevent the destruction of all
that was pure and good. After she realized her own sin, Alana tore off
the Necklace and hid it in her gown.
“That night, it is said, Alana could not sleep due to the guilt of
murdering her own sister, even if it was to prevent worldwide
darkness.
“So she remained awake, to write about the two Necklaces, both of
which she now had. She wrote about how the only person to wield the
Necklace of Light’s power would be one who was truly good. Alana
herself felt that she should not be the possessor of the Necklace, so
she took it in her hands and whispered an enchantment.”
“What enchantment did she whisper, mister?” I whispered.
“Patience. She whispered the Patience enchantment, child. This
particular enchantment can be used for many things, but Alana told the
Necklace to wait for one whose heart was pure and true.
“Anyway, Alana also realized that she had the Necklace of Darkness to
enchant as well, for she could not simply bury it in the earth. No,
Alana embedded the Necklace with a Patience enchantment as well, but
told it to wait for the cruelest heart before it could reveal its
powers. Alana hoped that no such heart existed besides her deceased
sister’s and, with both Necklaces in hand, she disappeared into the
night to hide the Necklaces in separate parts of the world. They have
remained hidden for two hundred years, but I fear that our luck is
about to run out.”
I looked at the man with a confused look on my face. “Why?” I asked
him curiously.
The man stood and closed his book. He walked over to the steps but
stopped to tell me something that would forever change my life.
“Because the King and Queen have been murdered…by their son, Prince
Andre. I fear…that his is the cruelest heart.”
3rd Place Winner – Samantha Stock
The Shadow World
Sitting in her room the lights all off. Young Sandy lays in her bed trying to get to sleep like her mother had told her to, but she had been having some troubles. One being that she wasn't tired at all. She didn't want to make her momma mad. She did try to get to sleep she really did, but she had been laying there for over an hour still not tired.
As she lay in her bed she started to look around her room for something to do. That wouldn't upset her mom. Then she noticed a little light laying on her floor. She smiled and picked it up. She started to turn the little light on and off then she noticed her shadow. What fun it would be to play with her own shadow. Little did she know there was a world of shadows.
Her mother hadn't told her about it yet, and how you must never, never, never ever play with your shadow. If you did it would reach out and grab you, pulling you into the world of shadows. The world of shadows was a terrible place. There was crime every day, people smoking, drinking, being over all bad people really. The crime oh geez there was so much of it people robbing convince store. Who on earth would want to live in that kind of world? It was no place for a little five year old girl. Now Sandy's world was a nice safe place there was no crime, no smoking, drinking, no stick-ups or anything. Sandy's world was filled with bright happy colors. No one ever fought or anything.
So here Sandy was playing with her shadow. Then suddenly it reached out and grabbed her wrist. Sandy let out a scream, and her mother burst in to see what was wrong. Little Sandy's shadow had pulled her in half way. “Momma help me!” Little Sandy screamed tears sliding down her face. But Sandy's shadow had other intentions the shadow gave another hard pull.
“Oh god Alexander get in here and help me!!!” Sandy's mother screamed grabbing Sandy's leg, and giving it a nice pull. But that only made the shadow angrier it gave another violent pull Sandy's head was pulled through the shadow she was able to see around the shadow world. She gasped a bit.
The shadow world was full of color, and not black and white as you might think. No it was full of color. But the color was much more violent than Sandy's was. She looked down a bit at a little girl that looked so much like her but yet was so different. The young innocent Sandy had short straight blond hair that came down to her shoulders each side was slanting forward she also had bangs that came down to her eyebrows. Her eyes a bright green and held the look of innocence. Her skin was sun kissed. She was wearing purple pajamas.
But her look-alike was much darker. Her hair was black, and had a weave in it but other than that it looked like the innocent Sandy. Her eyes were a dark green with a heavy line of eye-liner under them her, eyelid had a fine coating of black eyeshadow, her lips were covered with a blood red lipstick. Her skin was the exact opposite of Sandy's for her lookalikes skin looked like it had been kissed by the moon.
Sandy gave a gasp looking at her. “W-who are you?” innocent Sandy asked her eyes wide looking down at her.
Her clone smirked. “I'm you but I have more of a bite than you do little Sandy. My names Sandra. While your in here I'm gonna be in your world having a bit of fun.” Sandra smirked then gave another pull.
Sandy winced and let out a soft whine. “But why, can't you just stay here in your own world, and let me be in mine?” Sandy asked her cheek's still stained with tears.
“Nope its gotten boring here for me I need a new place to stay, and your world is just the place I need.” She smirked, and pulled again.
“No I wanna stay with my momma and daddy!” Sandy cried trying to get out of Sandra's grasp, but failed.
“To bad because I'm gonna go see your mommy and daddy. You'll love my mom and dad” She laughed, and gave another hard pull.
Sandy could hear her mom and dad desperately trying to pull their daughter back into her own world. “Alexander we have to pull harder!” Cried her mother not willing to let her little girl be pulled into the world of shadows.
“I'm trying Cindy!” Alexander yelled pulling harder. Sandra had lost her grip for one second and Alexander pulled Sandy right back through wall.
“NNNOOO!!! I should be going to her world!” Sandra screamed.
Sandy clung to her mom and dad crying her eyes out. “I was so scared.” She whimpered.
“We know sweet heart we know.” Cindy said softly stroking her child's hair. After a while she slowly fell asleep in her mom and dad's room. Sandy knew one thing and that was. She would never play with her shadow again.
Thank you! To all the young writers who entered the 2009 Young Writer's Contest.
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