Chatterbox: Inkwell

Short Stories S-...Thread. Can't think of another S word that would work. *Le sigh*

Okay, this is exactly what it sounds like. A short stories thread. We need one of theses. Because I really want to hear all of your amazing little stories!!

I have a few in mind. I never wrote them down...but here goes... (I'll only do the longest one for now)

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was one note. Only one.

I covered it up so well you would never be able to tell I missed it, but it was enough.

Mother could tell. She could tell because she had spent every spare second listening to me practice. Listening to me practice for five hours each day. I could see the dissapointment on her face. Father couldn't tell because he had work all day, every day. Mother leaned over and whispered to him, obviously telling him my mistake. His slight smile turned into a frown, at least until my flute teacher looked at them. Both of my parent smiled, until we reached the car.

I had finished my song well, I had played perfectly, as far as anyone could tell. My flute teacher had noticed, but complimented me because I covered it up so well.

My parents' reaction was different. Immensly different. 

"Honey..." I remember mother saying, her tones harsh, and cold.

I looked down at the heels mom made me wear. "Yes...I know. But-"

"No buts!!!" Mom screeched, even dad looked aghast.

"You made a mistake! That is UNACCEPTABLE!!!" I am not exagerating when I write that in caps. The car next to us sped up, the driver cast a quick glance at us. A pale woman with lots of kids in the back of her car.

Father nodded and said, "Darling. If you want to be as good as Grams you need to perfect it."

I don't want to be as good as Grams.

~~~~~~~

I gently set my flute case on it's shelf, then sat down on my bed. Mother had grounded me from my books. The only comfort I had nowadays. I buried my head in my hands and sobbed inwardly, for I had no more tears left in me. Also, because last time mom caught me sobbing, she slapped me.

Mother walks in, her makeup smeared from the previous fight in the car. "Practice Kaitlyn. You need to practice. I have a few hours for you to perfect your song."

"Mom!" I stood up, meeting her in the eye. "I just had my concert. It is over with, and the songs I played? Going on the shelf. I am done with them. I made a mistake. So what? No. I am tired. I will not practice today."

Mom's face turned red and I recoiled, terrified. "You need to fix your mistake! Then write an apology to your flute teacher because you messed up."

"No!" I shouted, suprised at the power of my own voice. "I. Am. Done. For. Today."

Mother stood taller, staring down at me from under her long, crooked nose. "I said, practice."

"What can you do?" I stood on my tiptoes just a little, as to not make it so obvious. "You already took away my books."

"No friends for a month!" She shouted.

Anger boiled inside me and I stepped closer to her. "I HAVE no friends! WHY? Because you make me practice for five hours a day and you never let me leave the house!!!!!!!!" By now my throat was dry, and I glared at her.

She hesitated, a mistake, because it allowed me to see she was scared, terrified even. "...OUT!" She pointed to the door and I stormed out, shoving past my dad, who was obviously watching the whole thing.

And that was how I met Trevor.

We met in front of my house. He had stopped, because he heard the shouting, heard every, single, wretched word. We spoke for hours, until he had to leave for dinner. We spoke at my tree, the only place in the world I could find peace.

"That sounds terrible..."

I nodded, looking down. "I picked up flute, not only because my parents pressured me, but because I always loved flutes. I was obsessed with them. But then..." I sighed. 

And I laughed that day.

Trevor had stood up over me, looking down at me and pretended to scold me. "Practice, practice, practice." He said in a such a rediculous, high-pitched voice that I could't help but laugh.

I wiped the tears from my eyes and smiled at him, "Actually that's pretty accurate."

~~~~~~~~~

We started getting together. Mom allowed it because he was an AMAZING piano player, and the only one that could keep up with my playing. He practiced two hours, and practiced because he loved it.

I could tell I was good on flute, but he would have been better if he played flute. I practiced more, but he practiced for the love of it. I told him so one day.

He just nodded and looked up at the night sky.

"It is a terrible thing..." I whispered. "And I hate it. I despise it, dread it."

He nodded again, but turned his gaze to me. "Thats why I'm here."

I smiled at him and nodded. "Thank you for not listening to your headphones on full-blast that day."

He let out a laugh, warm and true. "Amen."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Practice."

Not again, was the thought that flashed through my mind.

"You need to practice," mom stated. "If you want to be like your grandomther you need to practice."

"What if I don't want to practice?" I asked.

She turned to me, her gaze strong. "Of course you want to be like her. That is why you play flute."

I felt anger boiling up inside me yet again. "Mom. I wanted to play the flute because I liked flute. Now I never want to hear the blasted thing again."

"Nonsense!!" Mom shouted, glaring at me.

"Nonsense! I'll show you nonsense!!" I shouted, grabbing my flute case.

She stared, terrified, as I threw Grandmother's priceless flute out the window. Out the window of a three-story building. From the third floor. It was in it's case sure, but it probably wouldn't survive the fall. Mom screamed and pushed me aside, like a toy. Like a doll. Like an outgrown doll.

I ran out of the house, tears streaming down my face. I ran to the seaside, sobbing wildly.

And I stopped. Stopped at the edge of a cliff.

My shoulders shook with sobs and my hair stuck to my soaked face.

I jumped.

I jumped those ten feet, landing in the water. The water was colder than I expected, but it felt amazing. It was cool against my hot skin. It washed the tears from my face. (In a way.) My eyes stung as I stared ahead, blinking never, watching the water slowly get darker. My lungs started to hurt and I knew I had to swim up. So swim up I did.

But I made a vow. A vow to be different. Never again to be such a pushover, and a vow to come completly clean with my parents. No matter what.

I broke the surface, gasping for air and expecting for peace. Instead there were boat motors, and shouts of joy. Someome reached down, and I looked up. Seeing Trevor I grabbed his hand and he lifted me to the safety of the boat.

"Someone saw you jump. We were all so worried." He whispered.

"I wasn't under that long..."

"You call a minute not that long?! It seemed like forever!"

"A-a minute?" I whispered, startled.

He nodded, then tilted his head. "You look cold."

I nodded, I was shivering all over. I looked him in the eyes and took a deep breath. "Trevor...I am different now."

He stared for a moment, his green eyes understanding, and then wrapped me in a warm, comforting hug. I had noticed my parents before, and smiled slightly at the though of them staring. Maybe jealous? Maybe. 

Trevor whispered something in my ear I will always remember for life. It sent warm chills through my shivering body, and I felt all fuzzy inside.

"I exchanged your mom's sugar for salt."

Boy, was that a riot. 

~~~

Hope you liked it! It was..okay...I think...Actually..this was one of the best stories I ever wrote. It just kinda came to me while I was in bed one night. This is where I wrote it! 

Feel free to write all the stories you want! 

Sicily says ymam. Y mam..Y mom? Uh..I don't know why her mom was like that...