Hello my friends and welcome to the first writing challenge of 2022! I want to develop my skills in writing this year and I do believe writing challenges can help immensely. So this year, I do hope to complete at least 12 challenges in total, 1 every month.
WritingNook.Gr is, once again, the first place I visited in search of a challenge. Following last year's tradition, they upload 1 challenge at the beginning of each month and welcome all authors to share their short stories.
So, let's dive into January's challenge! (yes, I am aware it's February but I was taking a break last month, remember? ;))
For this month, you are challenged to write a short story up to 7000 with the following prompts:
A hot cup of tea
A blind person
Snow
To better get into the mood of this story, play this song as you read!
The window was colder that day. Palm flat on the cool surface, she took another small step forward. She could feel the glass vibrate as the wind clashed against it and, failing to break it, changed its course, aiming for another possible prey.
The wind could hear her. Like her, it carried words and emotions, intentions unspoken and hidden deep beneath the surface of the occasional smile. It carried truths one never dared to speak and screams that were silenced as time rotted the flesh. The wind was usually her friend. They met on her long walks out in the garden, waiting patiently for her by the door. Always by the door. It played with the leaves around her feet and danced with her hair, brought scents of freedom to her little corner of the world. But most importantly, and for that she would forever be grateful, it brought a promise.
Not today, however. Today the wind was wild, angry, perhaps. The vibrations from the glass could tell her that much. Maybe it was displeased she missed their appointment the previous day. It was quite capable of holding such a grudge. Yet something in her gut dismissed the idea.
The wind sought to protect her.
"Good morning to you too, Tia."
Her voice softly bounced between the concrete walls of her small room. She turned her face to the side, a sign of acknowledgment for the person that entered.
"I'm sorry I didn't knock," replied her caretaker. She could almost taste the guilt lacing her voice. "I thought you'd still be asleep."
"I could hardly close an eye last night." She faced forward again, the image in front of her mind still unclear. "Would you mind describing my view?"
Tia's shoes made a funny sound as she approached. She placed one hand on her shoulder, a way of telling her she had come to stand at her side. The woman took her hand gently and guided her towards the warm cup of tea she was holding with the other. After making sure her fingers had wrapped tightly around it, she let go.
"The last leaves barely hang on the tree outside. They have turned brown and seem ready to break at the slightest provocation. There is not a single bird singing this morning and I'm guessing we won't hear them again until spring. The ground is covered with snow, its height enough to cover your feet up to your ankles. You can smell the earth under your feet, soaking wet and on its way to a long-awaited winter's slumber."
She loved the way Tia described the world. She used textures and colours, sounds and scents to deliver a scenery as vivid to the mind as the one before her very eyes. Unlike most of the caretakers of the facility, Tia tried to bring colour to those within its walls who only saw black.
"You can tell me whatever it is that brought you in my room this early." The silence betrayed the woman's uneasiness, in a way she probably didn't understand. It was funny to her, how people gifted with colour could never truly see the world around them.
"I wanted to wait until after breakfast..." Tia trailed.
A shuffling sound reached her well-trained ears, the kind only fabric can make. It was most likely because of her arms folding.
"Let me help you," she finally said. She turned her body to her right, following the direction of Tia's hand on her shoulder. "He is not coming. He called first thing in the morning to cancel the appointment. This time, it was his mother insisting on escorting her to the doctor."
"Not exactly." Tia hesitated for a second but the deep breath she took seemed to do the trick. "He said his brother organised a meeting with the board. It was impossible to avoid. He promised to visit-"
"Next week?" A small, knowing smile crept at the corner of her lips. "Aren't those the exact words he used last time?"
With a sigh, she walked away from the window and its snowy scenery. She turned left and headed for the bed. Three, four, five. Her hand stretched to the side and a little clicking sound assured her the cup was safely placed on the side table. Eight, nine, ten. She turned and buckled her knees, until she was seated comfortably on her bed.
"I am tired of his promises."
Weight pressed the mattress next to her, as Tia came to keep her company.
"He loves you."
Words once so reassuring now tore her flesh to shreds, eager, hungry to close the distance to her heart. Patience was a virtue she was taught to hold dear since young, but even hers was running thin.
"He might have at some point. Now he only sees liability."
The words added to the pressure for a bit, before offering a partly euphoric release. Truth was never there to hurt her, only to show her the way.
"You were never a liability," Tia scolded.
"I am well aware. He is the one blinded by ignorance." She brought her hand to her face, kindly caressing her skin. "Ironic," she smiled, "don't you think?"
She knew her truth. She was what the world described as different. A woman with glowing dark skin and eyes as dark as a starless night, veiled since birth, long locks gracing her figure and a mind that shown brighter than the Sun itself. She knew who she was, where she came from, she knew of the voices singing in her blood. The can and can't dos this world had thrust upon her, as well as the countless times she had proven that world wrong.
When they met, she believed that he could see her too. Not how she was 'different', only how she was brilliant. Five years had passed since the day she thought she had met the one and apparently, her light wasn't enough for him anymore.
"Can you please help me send him a message? I want him to hear what I have to say."
Tia stood, heading for the side table, where she had placed her phone last night. She heard the recording begin and took a deep breath.
"I hope you have made the right decision for you. I hope you won't regret anything you have done so far, just like I won't. I... I do love you." A tear trailed down her cheek and she let it drive its course. She reached for that pain in her chest, that dagger she would twist herself in the wound. "But love... Love isn't enough. You need respect and admiration for the person you give your heart to, you need affection. You need honesty and trust and I have lost all of that for you. I lost it long ago, yet I wanted to keep believing the words you spoke carried your will to turn them into something real.
"I gave you a chance. You promised me, after the accident, you would mend what was broken but now... Now I see it was never meant to be mended in the first place."
She sniffed loudly, trying to keep her voice steady for just another 30 seconds.
"I hope you never hurt the way I do now. I will bear it, for the both of us. I hope one day, you get to have everything, just like we had planned."
She motioned for Tia to end the recording. Burying her face in her hands, she let the waves of sorrow sway her, as the storm inside her raged. Promises and the soft touch of his lips on her skin thundered in her mind. She wouldn't allow them to carry her in a sea of regret but for now, she was willing to let them guide her out of the storm.
That much, she owed to herself.
When Tia left, she forgot the radio on. It brewed a melody dipped in sorrow and it spread on the ground like mist after the rain. The piano raged and the violin cried in a concerto devoted to betrayal and despair. For the first time in years, the darkness surrounding her sucked the oxygen out of the room, leaving her breath hitched and unsteady.
The wind must have heard her crying that night for, in the following morning, it brought something new and unexpected.
A promise she had never tasted before.
I hope you enjoyed my short story! If so, please leave a like on this post! If you happen to write your own story for this challenge, don't forget to tag WritingNook.Gr on Instagram, so we can all see and share the love!
Happy writing!
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