Hey, I hope I'm not to late to enter the Home contest~

Home. What a word when every day, all I can see is the crumbling and cracking walls.

It has been ages since 'home' to me was truly a refugee, a safe house of sorts from the world. Those memories used to fill me with hope, yet no longer do I find inspiration from my past. The protection is gone, and my 'home' has been gobbled up by wild vines and crabgrass. 

If you were to ask me how my place of rest fell into such disrepair, I could not tell you. Perhaps it started when Patel ran away into the fog and never could be found again. My only brother, eaten by the winds of time. If he was alive even the authorities didn't know. He was never found, and a part of me caves away with his absence each day. 

Or, maybe, it all began when father found the dead man in the shed out back. His name had been Archie, according to the bereaved middle aged woman who came with the police on the second day of fall. I remember how she cried at the blood stained leaves around his body, her gray-black hair pooled around her face. I never could look at autumn the same way again. 

It could be, too, that everything never really falling apart until I discovered the letters. Carefully enclosed in papery tan papyrus and stamped with a crimson seel. The address had been to my parents, yet I had read it anyhow. That was the day that I found out that my 'home' wasn't the only thing falling apart. 

Home. What a word when all I can see are the crumbling and cracking people inside.

Could I ask for the deadline to be moved to August 14 or 15? I'm sorry, I have something I'm working on but I have an audition tomorrow so I haven't had time to work on it. I've been debating writing this but I guess I might as well, since Neverseen just posted. I totally understand if not, though.

OOOH HECK YEAH, I'LL ENTER! :DDD Okay, let's get started! :D

Most fairytale stories start with Once upon a time. Not mine. Mine happened... a long time ago, and almost no one knows about it. Well, that changes today. With you. So, my dear reader... please read carefully... my story is a bittersweet one.

Long before you were born, I lived in the fairytale world. I was... well, you won't belive me when I say I was Red Riding Hood's sister. You'll say 'She never had a sister! You're lying!' Blah blah blah. Have you asked her, if she has a sister? No! So what proof do you have that I'm not? Well, no matter, I'm getting stuck on small things. Anyway, I was unhappy, living in Granny's house. I missed our parents, and I missed our home. Red felt differently. She felt she belonged there, as much as Granny did.

I was happy for her, of course... but that red brick cottage never felt like a home to me. The fireplace right by the door, reminded me of the witch in the woods that almost... ended Hansel and Gretel, my two best friends. The wolf skin rug... reminded me how my sister and I got eaten by that same wolf. The bed where Granny slept... reminded me of Sleeping Beauty, my great, great, great something aunt, who still hasn't woken up yet. The beans on our dinner plate every night... reminded me of our brother, Jack, who ran away to climb a beanstalk and hadn't come back yet... you get the picture.

Everything in the awful place, reminded me of sad things that happened to my friends, my family, and me. Red didn't see it, she barely could see at all. The stories don't tell you this, but the reason Red thought that the wolf was Granny... was because she couldn't see a wolf. All she saw, was that Granny didn't look great. I was too busy, trying to steal one of the sweets, to notice the wolf... until it was too late.

Anyway, you didn't come here for some sob story. You came here, to figure out, why am I not mentioned in the stories, and why I'm here, instead of there. Well, that's simple. One day I met the same chap who sold my brother the magic bean. He was trying to sell me a golden goose, I believe, said it came from a giant's castle. I was so mad that he send my twelve-year-old brother up a beanstalk to meet that SAME GIANT, that I was about to attack him... when he struck a deal.

He said "I know you don't belong here, not in these walls, nor anywhere in this world. So I'll make a deal. Don't hurt me..." And then he whispered "Be removed from the stories and take an unwilling soul with you..." And then in his normal voice "And I'll give you the way out." I pretended to think about it, but the choice was already made up. "Yes, please!" What I didn't know... was that the way out was immediate. Before I could even blink, I was in New York City, my blue hood and sword at my belt attracting attention. 

...I never got to say goodbye. To my friends, to my family... I didn't even get to see Sleeping Beauty finally wake up and get married. And, Red came with me. Her red hood and basket drew almost as much attention as my sword did. And... even worse... I was removed from the stories. All mentions of me, from saving Hansel and Gretel and pushing the witch in the oven, to being eaten by the wolf, to being with Humpty Dumpty in his final hours. It was all gone... Red didn't have her stories gone, or story, singular. She never did explore very far out of the Wolf Woods. Not... not like I did.

Red exploded "BLUE! WHERE ARE WE!? WHAT'S HAPPENING?!" I tried to explain... but it was hard to. She forgave me... eventually. We went into foster care, and Red got glasses and was FINALLY able to see clearly. We went through mental heath... but never really belived it when we said that the fairytale world didn't exsit. We got new names, ones that fit this world: Ruby for Red, and Sapphire for me.

After we got out of the system, we wandered around a bit, looking for a home. Red found someone to love, and a new place to call home. And... I was alone. I still talk to Red... but not as much as I used to. And I'm still wandering around, looking for my home. I don't know if I regret my decision or not... but no matter. The choice was set. And I can't change the past. I haven't found my home yet, but one day I will. In this world... or the next.

So this was inspired by where I used to live back in Mexico~ 

It was afternoon. The broad grey street was quiet and empty. Stripes of warm sunlight lay across it. Occasionally a car drove past, and the busy avenue at one end was as clogged with cars as ever. But afternoon peace had fallen over it all the same. To Marcela the street was beautiful at any hour; in the evening it was dark and mysterious and romantic; in the dawn it was pristine and fresh; at midday it was busy and energetic; but it was loveliest of all at this time, in the midafternoon after a leisurely lunch spent talking with the family over soup and salad and her father's steak.

Here and there along the edges of the street were trees. There was a palm tree right in front of Marcela's house, and its long fronds were lit up with the golden sunlight. They were sighing with the whispery rustle that only palm leaves can make in the wind. Across the street was a tulipan tree with flaming red flowers. At the corner was another blossoming tree, a jacaranda. It had slender, trumpetlike purple blooms, each one delicately adorning its branch like a jewel.

To the right was a small park, a rectangle of grass with a white path winding through it. It too was dotted with tall sparsely-leafed trees: eucalyptus and pine and guayaba. As a little girl Marcela had played under those trees. She had gathered plump yellow guayabas and marveled at the size of the oldest eucalyptus which, to her vivid imagination, felt like an arboreal grandfather. She had written poems under the pines and jumped off the stumps of the trees that had been cut down, while her father, who took her to the park every afternoon, watched with a smile from the curlicued white bench. She smiled herself now, seeing the same bench still sitting there under the eucalyptus.

There were so many memories tied up with this park. And with this street. And, she had to face it, with this city.

She leaned back in her chair. Her eyes were fixed dreamily on the pure blue sky. For a moment she thought she saw why medieval artists always painted the Virgin's robe with blue pigment; blue was, after all, the only fitting color, at least when it looked like this. But then she turned her thoughts to more practical affairs. She had come back here from the United States for a visit; but she had to decide: would she go to university here, or in the US? At first she hadn't known. But on this, her last afternoon, she suddenly understood what she wanted.

The soft cooing of a dove floated over the street. Someone downstairs called something indistinct; Marcela heard her mother answering, but she didn't even bother to decipher the words, content just to listen to the voice. She let herself drink in the little details of the view before her. The roofs of the houses were brick-red and the walls were dazzling white. The sunlight was pouring through her clothes and suffusing her with warmth. She could still smell the vegetable soup they had had for lunch. Rounded, plump pigeons were strutting on the sidewalk, their gray feathers sometimes flashing iridescent purple in the sun. Even up here on the balcony Marcela could hear their throaty, contented coos. She smiled, almost ready to coo herself.

Wherever she went, whatever she did, this would always be home. This would be where she chose to live - because it was the place she loved most in the world.

I was so impressed with everyone's entries! You all did an amazing job :D

Honorable Mentions (in no particular order):

Moon Wolf! Wow, I love how you interpreted the theme! I really liked the imagery and details you included in the description of each place — the ‘shops with fresh linen clothing and leather purses displayed behind a fingerprint-smudged window’ and ‘milky-white cows with black splotches on their back like dark ink,’ for instance, really brought realism to your writing. The contrast between each of the places one might call home were really well done as well. Nice job :D

CelineBurning Bright! This piece is so beautiful! It was really cool how you used the hot chocolate and the fire as a sort of metaphor for finding a new home for yourself. And I really liked how you wrote about the narrator’s thought process — from reminiscing about the past to being determined to make a better future for themselves. It felt believable, and almost personal. Nice job!

KatPrincessForever! I love this take on Little Red Riding Hood! I always enjoy fractured fairy tales. I thought it was interesting/cool how Blue didn’t fit in in the fairy tale world and even though she escaped to the real world, she didn’t necessarily find a home there, either — it goes to show how finding somewhere you belong isn’t always easy. And I liked how the last paragraph had a hopeful sort of tone.

Lord Entropy! I’m always struck by how real your writing feels, and this piece is no exception — the way you wrote Chris’s internal thoughts and conflict was believable and just really well done, and small details like the stale chips and Crystal Thrift and the daughter whose name begins with an R add realism to your writing. Chris’s acceptance at the end was really well written, and I felt like you ended it perfectly.

Third Place: Ultimatium! Whoa, your piece was amazing! I love the concept of a writer’s notebook as a house, with each room being a different project. It was very well written, too; I could really feel the atmosphere and personality of each room. And I felt like the last few paragraphs were a perfect way to end it. Overall, it was a really cool concept, and wonderfully executed! 

Second Place: Neverseen! This is incredible! There’s so much vivid imagery here — I especially like the lines ‘my ‘home’ has been gobbled up by wild vines and crabgrass’ and ‘I remember how she cried at the blood stained leaves around his body, her gray-black hair pooled around her face.’ The sad, almost regretful tone was very distinct, and the repetition between the first and last paragraphs was really effective. 

First Place: Poinsettia! Wow, this is beautiful! Your writing is so incredibly vivid; I felt like I could picture the street so well. The small details like the street at different times of day and the nearby trees added so much depth to your writing. The nostalgic, almost bittersweet tone was really well done as well, and the last few sentences really tied it all together. You’re the next judge!

Congratulations! Hmm...so this is like a written picturing...?

The majestic beauty of the night surrounded a young woman, who stood underneath the glowing moon and glittering stars. Her presence was welcomed, as she blended with the night. Her hair was a jet-black that faded into dark purple at the tips, and cascaded down her shoulders, graceful and flowing. Her face was serene and mysterious, like the night. Her eyes were a calm sky blue during the day, but in the night, they turned a dark blue, giving her an aura of majesty and wonder. They seemed to reflect the night, and hold the stars themselves, along with all the secrets the night held. She wore a simple but beautiful lavender dress with an ombré effect that faded into the night, blending in with her surroundings. It flowed in the cool night breeze, giving her a sense of mystery and ethereal beauty. Around her neck was a simple silver necklace with a purple moon pendant that shimmered like the stars. Her dark boots made no sound as they moved through the breathtaking scene. She moved gracefully, yet with a sense of purpose and mysterious power. Her elegant steps blended with the shadows. The young woman’s presence was in perfect harmony with the night. She held her gaze high, and her footsteps were sturdy and resilient. She had an effortless grace and held the spirit of the dark wilderness in a serene night. She navigated the scene around her with a quiet and assured demeanor, and captured the majestic aspects of a wolf.  

OOOOH! I'm gonna use my favorite charrie, Rix, for this! Hope you like it!

(CW! This story contanins self-criticism and self-hatred! If you feel uncomfortable with this, DON'T read any further!) 

Once upon a time, a girl hated herself. That girl was Rix. Rix was a tall girl with blue eyes and brown hair. But she didn't care about that. She cared that she wasn't human. Rix was a clouded leobutterfly, which is a mix of a clouded leopard, butterfly, and human. Instead of spending her time in her true form, she spent her time in her... mostly human form. Rix hid her wings, ears, and tail under a cloak and hood, so no one would see that she wasn't human. But honestly... it was tight... it was hard to breath for her, but Rix felt she was a monster that needed to hide. Rix felt... that she deserved this...

But this pain wasn't just Rix's apperance, no no, it was for her personality as well. Rix felt as if she was always doing something wrong, always hurting someone else... she basically held herself to a perfect standered. And whenever she failed, which was practically everyday, she would yell at herself. Rix... was really suffering. One day, she recived a mysterious gift in her locker. It was a glowing necklace with a crystal on it. Next to it was a note, but it was smudged.

Rix sighed, thinking this was some sort of trick, but she put the necklace on, curious about what it was for. Instantly, she saw the mind of every kid on the world that they walked on. She was suprised that none of them had a perfect life, and that all were struggling in some way. Some had family who had passed away, others had parents getting divorced, others were struggling in school, but an overwhelming amout of them... were mad at themselves and upset with themselves, as much as anyone else...

Rix also saw some kids... who thought that there was only one way out of that... and she felt the pain that was left behind for another to deal with... everytime. It brought tears to her eyes, and she ripped the necklace off. She stood, shaking, by the lockers, then ran to the bathroom. She cried in there... but after Rix was done, she vowed she was done hiding. People were dealing with a lot worse, why should her tail, wings, or ears make any different? Rix grinned, and transformed into her true form, a clouded leopard with butterfly wings. She used sicissors to cut holes in the cloak for her wings, and out the red cloak on. Rix purred. This was perfect.

I mean, Rix still had some things that she still had to work on. People talked about her behind her back, of course they would, why wouldn't they? But a bunch more people still cared about her. They brought her homework when she was sick, complemented her tail, said she was super nice and smart... and Rix listened. Rix... well, she finally started to love herself. She cut herself more slack, and tried to listen to herself more. And she became a much better person for it. When she was older, she moved to the forest, and lived alone, except for her pet sparrow, Hazel.

Once upon a time, a girl hated herself.

Not anymore.

The end