Keeping secrets ‘is not all fun and games as they say, but it does bring up interesting ideas for stories. Who knew that nice young man at the shop killed three people? Who knew that teenage girl lied about her teachers to get better grades? Who knew that grandma stole jewelry using her electric wheelchair as a getaway vehicle? Who knew keeping secrets could be so stressful?
The following short story deals with a secret. Enjoy!
Oh! You can jumpstart with this prompt:
“I Know I’m Supposed to Keep This a Secret, But…”
I’ve waited for this trip to Hawaii for a long time. Too bad my cousin was not available to go along with me. The beaches were supposed to be better than ours, so they say. The crystal clear waters allowed people to swim along with many sea animals. The wonders of nature were expecting one happy tourist.
I relaxed my head on the travel pillow I blew up while I waited to board the plane. My seatbelt was fastened, and the plane lifted off the runway into a crowded clouded sky. This part made my insides tumble. Lift-off always did. At least the destination was free of complications, so the pilot states.
As the plane steadied itself, and the flight attendants did their thing, I took a deep breath for a nice long nap. That was until my neighbor tapped me on the shoulder.
“Excuse me.” The girl with peppermint glasses turned to me.
She had been watching the stewardess the whole time we got on this plane. this better not hinder the quiet.
“Yes?” I sighed.
She leaned closer, and whispered in my ear, “I know I’m supposed to keep this a secret, but I absolutely must tell someone.”
Oh, God. She’d better not say I reminded her of someone.
“This plane is not heading for Hawaii.”
“What!?!” I sprang from my seat, but the seatbelt restrained me.
“Sh, please, I don’t want to cause a scene.” She waved her hand.
“I’m sorry. A minute there I thought you said this plane was not going to Hawaii.”
“That’s right.” She licked her lips.
The sentence she dispersed from her lips hadn’t sunk in my brain. Her tight round face looked satisfied as if her nuance halted some indigestion. However, she neglected to give a reason for the change. Why should I bother? She seemed a little tipsy. Yet, what if she’s right? Did I accidentally board the wrong plane?
“Well?” I asked.
“Where is this plane heading?”
“I’m not supposed to say." Her eyes shifted. "I could die.”
Heaven forbid this girl to die!
“What are you trying to pull? You obviously need medical attention-”
A voice blasted through the speakers: “Passengers of flight 007. Welcome aboard! Please buckle yourselves up and allow us to transport you to dimension Westcorph. It was a lovely Earth, but it has outlived its usefulness. No need to become hostile. Just fasten those seatbelts and prepare for our stop in minus 30 seconds.” 30, 29, 28…
I looked back at the frantic passengers. The flight attendants put on gas masks! They held laser weapons in the shape of torpedoes. After an explosion that shook the plane and left vibrations in my teeth, the girl tapped me again.
“I told you so,” she scoffed.
So excited to share my recent poetry found on Spectrum. Check it out!
The following fictional story is in the form of a letter. Names and other similarities to real individuals are only coincidental.
My Two Best Friends
I have to tell someone before they catch up to me. You’re the only person honest enough to hear me out.
Okay, so maybe I should start at the beginning. I mean, my friends weren’t always that way, and it never made much sense what they did (outside of flirting with boys and flunking History). Sure we had our differences, but we also had similarities, like Aaron Parker’s dimple down to our bikini size.
My mother always wondered why I was friends with them. It didn’t cross my mind that they were only interested in themselves and no one else. It didn’t even occur to me until after High School that they somehow were not interested in reaching the top the way most people make money.
They used to paint red the lockers of girls who crossed them. They said it was like Passover, but instead of killing every firstborn child, they killed the weed out of their garden. And what a wicked garden they weaved.
Once during lunch, a girl stood up to them. They just stared at her. They seemed to laugh inside while I tried to calm the girl down. It appeared that my best friends had cornered that girl’s boyfriend into necking with them.
That much power I did not want, but they cherished it. Yet, it wasn’t enough. That’s why I’m writing to you, so you will know why I had to kill them and end the evil garden taking over my life.
Why did I write such a story?
I had mentioned previously that once you find the voice of your character, the story flows from there. That was the case for me here on this short piece. I could use it to springboard a novel about teenage girls. Write what happened that was so terrible this one girl had to kill them. Or I could make the girl have psychological problems. What will Brea do about it? The girl or Brea could be my main characters. Only time will tell. This prompt was also a great opportunity to write a short piece in the form of a letter. Next time you get an idea, try writing it as a letter. You never know where it can take you.
Hi, everyone. Three poems were published on The Gonzo Press this month of February 2022!
I'm excited to share them since they each have a double meaning.
Read them here .
And if you get inspired to read some more poetry, The Gonzo Press has many poets to go through. Maybe a poem will start brewing...
Ready to share your poem with the world?
It’s time to start searching for the best place to root your poem, whether it be a publication or web-based one.
Sometimes, you’ll find a perfect match for your poem.
At other times, you have to look deeper or write another poem based on what publications want.
So, don’t get discouraged.
The important thing is to stay informed with the market, but keep writing what you like.
The more we practice our craft, the better we get.
Here’s one I made:
April 24, 2013 “Robots”
The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Book Proposals and Query Letters by Mary Allen and Colleen O’Shea.
Since I’m in the process of preparing my manuscript for (eventual) submission, it’s good to keep researching how to do it. It lists online resources for writers and includes a ton of tips about getting the reader’s attention by including sample letters.
Under the Mesquite by Guadalupe Garcia McCall.
This book is written in prose poetry form. It’s about a teenage girl named Lupita who struggles to deal with her mother’s battle with cancer through high school. It's a heartwarming story.
Maria A. Arana, Editor
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