Category Archives: Short Story
Fiction: The Door
By Miah Wendelgast
I really don’t understand why my sister keeps texting me, and she knows that I won’t reply due to this beautiful, majestic, blue sky. Because of the tranquil walk, I didn’t notice that I was walking in a strange, yet interesting yard.
As I ponder, Is it someone I know? How come I haven’t noticed this before? Is this the old, abandoned house that everyone’s been talking about? I just hope the stories aren’t true of the horrific Ms. Jones and her children. Just thinking about this gives me an eerie feeling…
But then, I hear voices coming from inside. Is it real? I ask myself. “I have to go check it out. Each step I take, they are becoming louder, yet softer. Should I try to go in, or is my fear holding me back? My heart races at each step that I take.
The voices kept getting louder as I slowly approached the cracked, rugged door. I held my breath as I hesitantly opened the door…
Princess experiences biggest move of her life
By Madi Brown
My white chariot awaits as our furniture is being taken outside. My coachmen wear jeans and baggy tee shirts, grabbing my stuff to put in my chariot for me. Daddy shakes their hands and smiles, they smile back.
The boxes are heavy and Mommy has to help me with most of them. The coachmen clear my room and all I can see are my big purple walls and my princess curtains. I remember when Daddy said we were leaving our castle and heading to another one in Borden. I was so excited, but he seemed upset. I wonder why?
Little by little, my castle looks emptier and emptier. The kitchen only has boxes and the play room only has a big tub of toys we use to play with. My little brother, Tanner, goes through his things and makes sure all his action figures are in the right place. I sit on the porch watching people walk in and out until break time.
I watch one of my boxes head outside and I can see my pink tiara money bank. It wasn’t that long ago when Daddy ran out of money in his piggy bank, so he had to borrow mine, but it’s all good because I got paid back.
I got to tell all my friends about my family’s amazing adventure and how I would be leaving to go to a new school where I wouldn’t have to wear a uniform or recite scripture anymore. They were all jealous, of course, and sad that I was leaving, but they all made me cards and the whole class even made one huge card with a puzzle of a cat on the front cover. It was awesome.
During break time we sit on our empty living room floor, eating Papa John’s pizza on paper plates. Daddy hands me my slice and Mommy hands me a can of soda from the garage. We eat without talking, stuffing our mouths with food so we have more time to work. Dad finishes first and starts to grab more boxes while Mom cleans pizza sauce off Tanner’s face.
After their break, the work seems to go by faster and before I know it my castle is empty. I run to give Daddy a big hug and a huge smile. He stares at me looking surprised and a little sad. I ask him to twirl me down the driveway to the car, and he carries me like the princess I am.
Freshman shares experience with unique creature
The wooden gate creaks open, and I peer through an opening, divided from the creature by half a door with rusted iron hinges. The padlock dangles from the chain. I can reach out and touch the animal.
It snorts, its nose flaring. It recognizes me. Its ears flap. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. Its eyes speak many things through the golden and hazel iris, and the intelligence within makes my stomach churn. I stare at it, and I see the muscles on its shoulder flinching despite its quiet, calm and knowing gaze.
I study the black stripes tracing across its head, branching out like the tributaries of a river, coursing across the rest of its body, contrasting tones of black against white.
I’ve only ever seen them on TV or through a fence from far away. Never had I been so close to them, and never had I understood the beauty of it. Looking at it then, its gaze holding mine, I had been practically forced to see and appreciate the complex simplicity of it. I was locked in a state of awe, only realizing within those few seconds how great the creature’s strength was, yet seeing the strength as so fragile. I was terrified that if I so much as took a breath, it would disappear.
Its tail flicks and a hoof drags across the paved floor. Its head turns, peering through an open doorway that leads to a world outside, yet a world still within an enclosure. It casts me one last sideways glance. I hold its gaze, yet the creature disappears before I can understand what happened, its racing steps kicking up dust.
Seeing this creature on TV never allowed me to grasp it as I did then. Watching a herd of them sprint across a screen, their hooves pounding against the ground, never shook me to the core or reverberated through my every bone like it did in person when I was only a couple feet away.
Before I could get a final glance of the creature, the doorway slams shut, leaving it outside and me inside, mesmerized, staring over a wooden gate. A tap on my shoulder shakes me free of the hypnosis, and I open the gate, grab a hose, and begin washing the paved flooring, my minds eye still watching the zebra with its image trapped in my thoughts.
Rumors are reported
by Lindsay Sparrow and Maci Korfhage
It may be a surprise to FC but students at New Albany and Providence make odd assumptions about the FC student body. Whether the accusations are true or not is the real question. These students from other schools have spoken up about these stereotypes.
Many accusations have been made about FC’s student body.
“I have heard that they cheat on a lot of things and are all stuck-up, snobby wealthy people,” said Providence sophomore Aaron Flanagan.
“From what has been told to me through the grape vine is that Floyd Central is all rich and mostly arrogant, smart kids,” said Providence freshman Brooke Hayden.
Some people have different opinions on if FC is actually stuck-up wealthy kids or not. There may be some truth behind FC’s stereotypes but most of the time, students from FC would deny these stereotypes.
“There might be a few people from Floyd Central that are a little more blessed than some of us, but for the most part I don’t think these stereotypes are true for all of the FC student body,” said Hayden.
Providence freshman Jeffery Krieger said people from Providence go through the same thing with the wealthy kids assumptions, but they are more aimed at FC than to Providence.
Wondering how these stereotypes are brought up again during different sports seasons only one thing comes to mind- who has more school spirit? “I say students at FC can be stuck up and have no spirit but when they put their mind to it they are all great people,” said senior Mike Springer.
This upcoming sports season should be a close one. With rivalry schools coming to play on FC’s home court for basketball and FC’s crazy student sections to fill up New Albany’s and Jeffersonville’s visiting student sections for football, this season will be a rowdy one.
Hutson inspires outside of school
by Raquel Renton, Analise Book
Juli Hutson is more than just a typical P.E. teacher. From an educator, to a trainer, to being a part of the Olympics, she has truly done it all.
From the beginning Hutson knew she wanted to work in this field, but she became much more than she originally planned. After having the chance to work with kids in Haiti at only 15 she said she felt it was her calling. Then Hutson set off to college to become either a high school P.E. teacher or basketball coach. She took one class in elementary teaching and discovered she loved it too.
“I absolutely love teaching kids otherwise I wouldn’t have done it for the last 29 years. It’s just natural to me,” said Hutson.
Hutson carries her job with her out of school, too. She once sold everything she owned to go on a 10 month bike ride around the perimeter of the United States. It was nearly 11,000 miles and her and a group of 60 other people rode anywhere from 80-120 miles a day. They also stopped weekly to assist in community services, which was something Hutson had done her whole life.
“We slept in a Mayflower moving van that was made to look like a dormitory. It felt like everyone had a coffin,” said Hutson while recalling the events of the trip.
Like any other trip of that caliber would be, it was incredibly inspiring.
“I got to see America in a way that few people do. I met people totally amazing that just moved me and inspired me. You know, everyone always hears the bad things about us, but we got to see all the good,” said Hutson.
She also got the chance to carry the Olympic Torch one year. A student of Hutson’s nominated her for a contest that Coca Cola was sponsoring to find someone who does incredible work for their community.
“I had always wanted to be in the Olympics, but there was just no way! This was my own taste of it,” said Hutson.
On top of the great work Hutson has gotten to do, she also helps the students in innumerable ways. One of the biggest things that she has done was helping to sponsor the Gay-Straight Alliance (G.S.A).
“It gives the kids involved a safe place to be who they are without judgment or spite. I have heard of so much bullying; these kids need a place. They need to know they are worthwhile. Whether you agree or disagree, people are people. You may not respect their choices, but they are people and everyone deserves to be respected,” said Hutson.
Hutson really connects with the students she teaches and she tries to make a lasting impression on them.
“[Hutson] is great! She is forward, but in a caring matter and she doesn’t give us things that she can’t do herself, which shows how dedicated she is as a teacher. She is funny and charismatic and definitely knows how to cheer people on,” said sophomore Saide Martinez.
“I loved her when I had her! She really connected to her students and I really felt like she would be there for anyone if they needed it. She is a really great person and she taught me more than just health,” said senior Brittany Harris.
Whether Hutson is volunteering her time where it is needed or helping kids to lead healthy lives, she continues to be an important part of both FC and the community.
“I don’t think I do anything extraordinary. I think that I’m just me and I try to love these kids the best I can,” she said.
Eziekiel Of The Rockies
By Will Huston
Eziekiel woke, sitting up and immediately doubling over as coughs overtook his breathing, filling his dwelling with the sound of violent expulsions as spat into a bucket. What felt like
several long minutes passed, and the coughs faded away into the occasional bit of phlegm punctuating his murmurs. “Must have been the damp,” Eziekiel croaked, his voice like the well’s piping –
rusty and of rare use.
Eziekiel stood upon shaky knees, clutching the bedside table as his head swam. He surveyed the space, a sort of bedroom with a rough bed of hides and old blankets, a cluttered table with bits for
repairing the rifle, and a coat rack. Eziekial took a moment to browse the rack, as though he had a choice, before pulling off his winter coat and walking out into the kitchen.
The kitchen is a small space furnished with a small wood stove nestled into a corner, a large wardrobe that he had rigged to be a pantry, an old wooden table whose varnish is peeling off, and a
chair that groaned at the weight of a user. Eziekial’s lip remained firm, his eyes apathetic – he had seen this space thousands of times, and he no longer cared.
He walked over to the wardrobe, letting it creak open, he looked over his stock. Shelves of disorganized and precarious jars and tins of food were before him. After a few silent minutes of browsing, the only sound being the occasional stifled cough and
the sound of the wilds outside, Eziekial decided on a simple meal of bread and smoked venison. Just as he is sitting down, he let out a hacking fit. After composing himself, he let out a groan,
looking back to the wardrobe. With a bit of effort, Eziekial jumped up, and went digging in the wardrobe’s depths for some vaguely remembered remedy.
Instead, he found an old photo frame.
He bit his lip and opened the frame, slowly. Letting the ages yellowing photograph bring the memories back, he wanted to forget, but he wouldn’t forget her. It took a few moments to let it sink in,
a much younger depiction of Eziekiel, in his early twenties at least. His hair is combed and well kempt, his smile modest and touching as were his deep hazel eyes. His clothes were alright,
he didn’t come from a rich family nor did he come from a poor one – he did his best with what he had.
He then looked to the other form in the parallel frame; a young girl of 19 sat there, his sister. Anna’s unblemished face produced a sweet smile; her eyes were deep and comforting.
She had a beautiful face, angled to a rounded, her cheeks skinny and somewhat shallow. Her hair is smooth, caressed in a large braid behind her.
Eziekial stifled a sob as the scene came back, the rich boy, the shattered bottle, and his sister, her eyes without depth, and an inky pool forming around her midsection.
He barely knew what happened next, his mind is blinded by rage and fury. The next thing he knew, the broken bottle had claimed another.
The boy’s father presided over the scene in an open doorway, an eerie silence about him. His face isn’t contorted with rage, but instead, with a deadly stare. His eyes pierced Eziekial’s mind and filled him with fear.
Eziekiel could only run then, the father had vowed to kill him, and one couldn’t face the big iron of his, nor his gang.
All that Eziekial could do is run, he escaped the dangers that he faced in Tennessee and found himself moving farther and farther west. Soon enough, Eziekial came upon an isolated village on the base of the Rockies in Idaho.
But even then, he felt as though there is nowhere safe, this is compounded by the fact that there isn’t enough work to go around in the little village, especially if you weren’t local. So, he looked to the mountains.
With the last of his savings and the sale of his old Ford, Eziekial funded his move into the mountains, staking himself a claim along a lonely riverbed, and building a small yet sturdy shack against the hillside.
Eziekial is branded a hermit, but he is much rather an exile by the forces against him, and his own paranoia.
Gradually, the memory of what had caused him to go into hiding slipped into the background, and he actually began to relish the liberation from society, the solitude of living on the cliffs and amongst the evergreens. He found a peace, and for 30 years, he lived alone, away from the quarrels of civilization.
Yet, there it is again, the misery of the early years, coupled with the blaring truth that he is becoming a clumsy and weak old man. On his worst days, a walking stick is required to traverse the old paths that he would bound about earlier in life. He is growing old, and there is no way to stop it.
“Enough” he thought aloud, “I just need to clear my mind, that’s all.” He walked out of the kitchen, and back into the bedroom. He took his rifle off the wall with finesse, pulling back
the bolt slowly. The rifle is always in good condition, he made sure of that.
Eziekiel stepped out into the damp mountain air, casually readjusting his leather jacket as he took in the scene. Too cold for the birds to be out, but close enough to spring to maybe catch a deer,
grazing amongst the groves. He began down his regular path, a winding trail that often stretched across the river in shallow areas. It is also the easiest path to catch game on.
Time passed on, and with it, Eziekiel’s doubt grew. He had seen little in the way of tracks, nothing really fresh, and soon enough he would be at the creek’s basin, and then he’d have to turn back.
He crossed through the stream again, the clear waters wiping away some of the finer layers of mud on his boots. He leaned against a tree, and let out a sigh. “Who am I fooling; I’m too old for this.”
Eziekiel muttered, entertaining the thought of going home.
Turning away, Eziekiel began walking home, until he he heard a branch snap behind him, turning quickly on his heels, Eziekial caught a glimpse of a deer glancing at him. Hurriedly he cracked the bolt of the rifle, and raised it to see the whitetail disappearing into the trees.
Still, Eziekiel would not let it be lost; he gave chase, bounding through the briars and underbrush as though it were nothing. His body once again full of the vigor of his younger days. Just as
he began to pant, the deer reached the crags on the cliff-face, rounding quickly around a thick mass of tree and brush. He kept after, confident he could get a clear shot soon. “Just a few more feet,”
Eziekiel thought, his lungs burning. He reached the bend, seeing that he had a clear shot, only to realize that the ground beneath him had come loose.
Eziekiel’s remembered the sensation of falling, a huge boulder tearing itself from the face as though at the wrath of a god. Eziekial tried to get hold of the cliff, but instead, his skull was acquainted with the rocky face, and all went dark.
Eziekial woke, the sky above him was growing dim with the curtains of twilight. His first instinct to sit up proved folly as his skull throbbed. He grasped it, stifling a cry as he felt a warm liquid ooze into his hand, pulling it away, he saw an inkling of blood had collected on his palm. Eziekial looked around, his skull had managed to overshadow the pain in his legs, as now he noticed that one had been bleeding for a while. Leaning over and ignoring the spike sent through his mind, Eziekial groped his thigh, observing the hole in his leg with remorse and worry.
Eziekial looked up, observing the growing darkness as his most prominent threat, he stood up shakily, having to put the majority of his weight on his “good” leg, he hobbled a little, looking about for his rifle or a stick to prop himself on.
He found the rifle first, it’s once powerful form broken and crippled. Its stock was splintered, and the barrel was bent at an odd angle. As much as he wants to take it, he can’t in its current state. Soon enough, Eziekial had found a fairly dry, thick branch, with of which he began his journey home.
Eziekial set out, letting his instinct guide his journey as he hobbled throughout the disorienting woods, a growing fear of nighttime predators began to set in. The sky has since grown dark, and Eziekial finds himself freezing in fear at every rustle of the underbrush. His mind was so preoccupied, he didn’t hear the gurgle of the stream until he was upon it.
Gazing with disbelief, Eziekiel cast his eyes across the stream, his eyes filling with joy as he saw the familiar trail running parallel with the creek. Despite his pain, he pushed through
the stream, its form flowing seamlessly around him. After backtracking for a few minutes, Eziekiel saw the dark shadow of his shack in the darkness. Eagerly hobbling up, he pushed inside, greeted
by the long-cold coals of a dead fire, and a cold house. Still, he is happy, for he is safe.
—
Eziekiel is not as safe as he would like to admit, the next morning he awoke in ill manners, his thigh felt as though it were a tree-stump, stubborn against all attempts to remove it from
this area. He pulled back the blankets and gasped. His leg is inflamed and swelling. The gash in his thigh oozed yellow pus, and any attempt to walk on it caused Eziekiel to scream in agony.
Over the next few hours, Eziekiel scolded himself, scolded himself for leaving the homestead on such a ill-mannered day, scolded himself for running after that deer through the wilds as though he
is but a boy chasing after a dog, and scolded himself for not paying more attention to his wounds instead of just heading straight to bed. The weather did not help either, for the next day it
rained, coming down in torrents, and he could feel the damp getting to him, making him even more ill. His cough had returned, this time with renewed animosity, Eziekiel could find himself to barely be able to gulp down mere morsels with the cough.
Another night passed, and Eziekiel woke, his leg has swollen and is looking very ill. Even after applying the strongest drinks he had to it, and dressing it in thick layers of cloth. The pus and the smell of rot remained. Eziekiel had no choice but to try and make the journey to the village, a romantic hope that penicillin had since improved in quality and quantity since his isolation began.
He set out mid-morning, after a meager ration of jerky and bread and a suffice amount of alcohol to dull the pain. A leather pouch carried the last of his coin, hopefully enough to buy the remedies to his ills. The sky is oddly dull, sort of a light gray drenched in a blue hue, Eziekiel did not notice this, and just kept on.
Nor did he notice, the gradual fading of the clouds altogether, and increasing intensity of the blue hue as he went along. Soon enough, even the trees faded into blurred shadows of what is. Eziekiel
noticed none of this, for his mind is focused on the road. Soon enough, Eziekiel wobbled, dropping beneath the last coherent tree on a tuft of all too green grass. He let out a yawn, stretching out
as sleep began to take over. “I’ll…just take a…nap.” He murmured, his eyes fluttering.
“That’s quite alright, Eziekiel, you’re much deserving of a good rest.” A voice said.
Eziekiel looked up, to see the vivid ghost of a photograph he looked at not too long ago, before his eyes fluttered once again and he drifted off into his last sleep.
Kissing in the Rain
by Alaina King
I stepped off the bus smelling rain in the air. Gray clouds covered the sky predicting more rain.
The dreary, rainy day fit perfectly into how I felt. Depressed. Sad. Angry. I walked into my driveway hearing gravel crunching under my boots only reminded me of the crunching of my heart.
Standing in the middle of my driveway, I threw my backpack down and stood. Just stood. As if on cue, huge raindrops began to fall, soaking my hair and clothes.
With everything boiling inside of me, I bent and picked up a handful of rocks and launched them toward my house. Nothing could describe the way I felt anymore.
“Alexis!” someone called from behind me.
I turned around and faced the only guy who could make me feel the way I do now.
Garrett Morris, a junior, has managed to steal my heart in a week and shatter it in a day. A relationship that was as nonexistent as dinosaurs, has messed me up completely.
I could only imagine what I looked like. Brown hair plastered across my face, frowning, and hands dirty from the rocks.
“Garrett, what are you doing here?” I asked slowly.
“I came for you.” he said without hesitation. I searched his face for any lies it may contain. His blue eyes were true, face composed seriously, and no unusual body language.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I made a mistake losing you and I can’t bear to not have you anymore,” he said. All the words I had been wanting him to say for a week now, rang in my ears.
“Go away, Garrett,” I say coldly.
“Don’t walk away, Alexis,” he pleaded.
“What choice do I have?” I cried. “You played ME and broke MY heart, the damage has been done.”
“I want to fix the damage.”
“There wouldn’t have been any damage if you didn’t do what you did in the first place!”
“Alexis, it took the loss of you, to realize I love you.”
Tears streamed down my face with the rain. I shook my head and squeezed my eyes shut.
“No, Garrett.” I turn around and start to walk away. The only thing I focused on was not turning around and going back.
Before I could resist or protest, Garrett grabbed my arm and spun me around. He looked me straight in the eye and said: “I’m changing for you. I love you, Alexis.”
In seconds, he caressed my face and kissed me. I’ve wished for this moment since we met.
Garrett was the guy for me and apparently I was for him.
So there we stood in a frozen moment kissing in the rain.
Choosing best friends wisely
by Kiley Atchley
The definition of a friend is someone who stands by your side no matter what choices you choose to make. Everyone needs a friend to get them through the day, but you have to make sure you have the right ones. Ever since high school started, my close friends began to hang around the wrong people, who did bad things. One day I figured out that my friend’s choices were not so good and so I set out to find new ones.
My old friends would go out on weekends and party and do bad things. They asked me to come along but I always knew what they were doing so I said no. After the first time they went out I didn’t really think anything of it. You know we are teenagers, so we are bound to do bad things. Then I realized the concequences, and how those things definitely weren’t right.
The next few times I started to get worried; I did not want them to do that anymore. I told them that I did not like the choices they were making and they totally freaked out. They were yelling at me and they told me that I was not their mom and to have some fun in life. I agree that you need to have fun in life, but not in a way that is immoral and wrong. That is when I decided to not be friends with them anymore. I realized I had to change things, and I was hoping that they would realize the same.
I knew this decision was right because now I have new friends and feel better about myself. My new friends know how to have fun without doing it in such a way that is bad and will get them into trouble. So if you have friends that do bad things and make bad decisions, drop them before you give into peer pressure
History is History
by Bailey Hussung
Characters
Natalie: Independent and adventurous. Knows what she wants in life. Feels guilty about the situation with Ben, but wants to
Ben: Emotional and expressive. Stuck in the past, sad, still clings to memories of Natalie.
(Lights come up. NATALIE is rifling through her purse, looking for change, approaching the counter. BEN looks up from his table surprised)
NAT: Yes, I’d like a Vanilla L-
BEN: Natalie?
NATALIE: Ben?! Ben Lewis? Oh my God, I can’t believe it!
BEN: (Gets up and hugs her) I can’t believe it’s you! What are you doing here?
NAT: Well, I kind of just got here. I’m staying with a friend while I finish up school.
BEN: I’d never thought I’d run into you again.
NAT: (Shrugs, says jokingly) I guess I just attract the wrong kind of people, huh?
BEN: So have you been home since….
NAT: (Uncomfortable) Uh, no. Too many memories. (awkward pause, BEN and NATALIE won’t look at each other) Well… it’s been nice catching up, but I’ve got to get back to-
BEN: Your boyfriend?
NAT: No! (stammering) I mean… I don’t… there’s no…
BEN: Then why the rush? Sit! I’ll buy you a cup of coffee if you’ll join me. Vanilla Latte with a double shot of espresso and extra foam, right?
NAT: (smiling, fondly surprised) You remember.
BEN: Of course I do. (BEN gets two coffees and brings them back. He sits, stares at her for a moment ). I… I don’t know where to start. Isn’t there some cliché way these sort of affairs run?
NAT: Oh! The two people greet dramatically
BEN: Check.
NAT: Usually there’s some sort of fond banter….
BEN: (thinks for a moment)I’ve got nothing. I think we can skip that part.
NAT: Awww. But that’s my favorite!
BEN: Moving on…. What next?
NAT: Then there’s usually some broad question like “What have you been up to?”
BEN: (Laughs) Well, since you asked, I build computers for a living.
NAT: Mmm. How riveting.
BEN: Oh, because being a student is so much more captivating. By the way, why are you still in college?
NAT: I took a few years off after high school and used my college fund to travel instead. Mom and Dad weren’t happy about that. But now I finally have enough money to go back, I’m getting my teaching degree.
BEN: So (pause) Let me get this straight (pause) you traveled after you left town?
NAT: Yeah, (speaks passionately) it was, magical. I went to Europe with just a backpack and a wad of money and just let the wind take me where ever it wanted. Half the time I didn’t know where I was going, or where I would be sleeping that night, but it was incredible.
BEN: That sounds frightening.
NAT: That’s the fun of it! You haven’t lived until you’ve walked a mile on a dusty provincial European road (dreamily) with nothing but the stars as company, everything you own on your back, the night chill biting at your face, the smell of summer grass in the air.
(During this time, BEN grows angry)
BEN: Well isn’t that nice? While you were off having some wonderful European adventure, I was picking up the shattered pieces of our relationship that you left.
NAT: (begins to get up) Look, I called you over and over, and I emailed you, trying to apologize but if you’re just going to-
BEN: I’m sorry I snapped at you. Stay. Please? (NATALIE reluctantly sits back down) I guess I’ve just been wondering all this time… why?
NAT: Do we have to go into this today? I believe there is a more appropriate time and place for this discussion.
BEN: No time like the present. It’s been seven years; I think we can talk about it now.
NAT: That was a long time ago. We’re both adults, can’t we just, I don’t know, move on?
BEN: I can’t, not without knowing a reason. I think you at least owe me that.
NAT: Sigh I don’t know, Ben. I was young!
BEN: We both were. I thought we were so sure of each other. I know I was, sure enough to propose.
NAT: I needed time.
BEN: Seven years? You needed seven years?
NAT: I… I just wasn’t ready.
BEN: Frustrated sigh That’s not the reason, and you damn well know it! We had been dating for four years and were best friends since both of us can remember. Just… please give me the truth.
NAT: I… I just didn’t want to hold you back.
BEN: We both know there was one person you were thinking about there and it sure as hell wasn’t me. Now please just tell me, Natalie.
NAT: Getting angry Okay. Fine. You want the truth? Here it is. I didn’t want to settle for the first guy I met. Is that what you wanted to hear? I didn’t want to spend my entire life asking “What if”. I didn’t want to end up like my parents, who can barely stand each other, or themselves, for that matter, because they just settled for each other. I didn’t want that for us.
BEN: That wasn’t us, and you know it. We were different, we were in love!
NAT: Sure, we could’ve gone on believing that for a while, but before long, we were just going to end up like everyone else in that rat hole of a town, chronically disappointed and habitually bitter.
BEN: How can you say that about everyone we grew up with? Don’t act like you were some victim of a loveless marriage in some dopey town. We had it good.
NAT: I know, but there’s more to life than being ‘Miss Lincoln County, Wyoming’ and shoveling snow. There’s an entire world out there and we both needed the chance to realize that. I loved our little town, but I knew that there was more out there waiting for me.
BEN: But you just left. You just walked right out of that restaurant and never looked back! All I had left of you was the note you put on my car. I can still remember what it said…. ‘I can’t do this. I’m sorry,’ what kind of goodbye was that?
NAT: You have to see it from my side! When you got down on one knee and everyone looked at me with such (pause) expectation. I couldn’t stand it. Surrounded by the fake Italian decorations, I thought to myself, I could see the real Italy! I could go live by myself for once! I saw my life with you flash before me and it was so… predictable. All these thoughts were swimming through my head. I panicked, and I ran. Yes, it was childish, yes, it was stupid, but I had to think of me for once.
BEN: And there I was (pause) down on one knee, feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet.
NAT: I did what was best, Ben. If I would have said ‘yes’, then everything would have been already planned out for me (pause) and I couldn’t do that to us.
BEN: And who are you to determine that? You decided what was best for us.
NAT: I just felt trapped, okay? I can’t apologize enough, but I am sorry. I do mean it.
BEN: When you left, I lost the love of my life and my best friend. I wasn’t the same afterwards…
NAT: I bet there were plenty of girls that would have stepped up to take my place.
BEN: There was no one after you. I moped around my parent’s house for months. Finally Ethan slapped me out of it, literally.
NAT: Laughs Sounds like Ethan.
BEN: He showed up at my bedroom door one day and said (imitates in deeper voice) “Dude, stop being such a chick,” and then dragged me out of my house.
NAT: Tactful, as usual.
BEN: It was harsh, but it worked.
(awkward pause)
NAT: (looks down at her hands) I’m sorry.
BEN: I know.
(NATALIE looks up and smiles at BEN)
BEN: But it wasn’t all bad. The old gang rallied around me and tried to help . Kelly baked me a cake that said ‘Sorry you got dumped’.
NAT: Laughs Oh man, I miss them.
BEN: Yeah, we had a lot of good times, didn’t we?
NAT: Oooh! Do you remember the Saturdays at Harrod’s Lake? We’d hike up that huge hill to
(Lights dim to show passage of time, NATALIE continues talking animatedly)
NAT: … and senior year when you guys put five pounds of meat in the’s school vent? I remember you made me the look-out…. It stank for months. It seems like I was always sucked into being the lookout for you guys.
(She continues laughing and BEN just watches her)
BEN: It’s not too late, you know.
NAT: For what?
BEN: For us.
NAT: Oh, Ben I don’t think-
BEN: Just hear me out, alright? We should go somewhere, anywhere. You pick the time and the place, I’ll meet you. I just feel like we haven’t lived this (gestures between them) out yet. Give us a try.
NAT: I’m not the same girl I was in high school, it’s been seven years, you can’t just ignore that. I’ve grown up. I have a life, new friends.
BEN: I know you. Somewhere inside there’s that girl. My girl.
NAT: I really do have to go; I have class in an hour.
BEN: Will I see you again?
(NATALIE ponders for a moment)
NAT: Give me your number.
BEN: Really?
NAT: Yeah, let me just find a pen… (digs in her purse)
BEN: Here, I’ve got one.
(BEN grabs napkin off table and quickly scribbles his number on it, hands it to NATALIE, she takes it and keeps it in her hand)
BEN: Call me.
NAT: I will.
(NATALIE exits, but on her way out, she looks back at BEN then throws the napkin away in a trashcan.)
(Black out.)
THE END