Storymakers: Death inside Life

Storymakers: Death inside Life

By Mara
Seventh Grade
McMurry Middle School
Vashon Island, WA

Have you ever thought about what it would be like to be dead? Living sadly, floating in the clouds, hoping someone is praying that you are well. Staring down wondering, wishing that your loved ones are alive and well. I am one of those dead people and trust me; I think about that all the time.

Before I died, I was a weird 14 year old orphan who had nothing in the world besides a dog who was a cute, adorable runt.

That night I was running away, I didn't want to be in that horrible orphanage. I packed my bag and I was gone. I didn't have many belongings; a few coins, some old dresses, some treasures I had found in the orphanage, and my dog, Charlie. Oh, that reminds me, I forgot to mention my simple, boring name, which I personally hate. My name is Harmonie, my dead girl name. A lot of girls used to tease me and call me Harmonica, it annoyed me so much.

The orphanage wasn't the best place for me; people looked at me like I didn't belong in this world. But there was one point in my life when I did feel loved; the girl's name was Genevive Herald. I never met her, she lived across the way of the orphanage, and her parents were the richest people in London. She had a huge house, and my room was right across from her room. Usually in the orphanage, I would stare through my window, daydreaming and there she would be sitting on her window seal. She would smile and wave, and I would smile the biggest smile ever back, and I felt wonderful. Everyday we would do the same thing; smile, and that's all we needed to do, to know we were the best of friends. She was the only reason I had not run away before. I was determined I would meet her some day or another. But on August 21, I looked through the window and she was gone, her room was empty, and I never saw her again.

So there I was walking down Oak Avenue, Charlie at my side. My handed drooped down to my side and he immediately licked it until my arm was covered in slobber, all the way up to my elbow.

"Ewe Charlie!" I screamed at him. He was so shocked at my voice that he cowardly put his tail between his legs. I was so ashamed of myself, that I bent down and patted his head, and whispered to him, "I'm so sorry, my sweet Charlie, you don't need to be afraid, and don't worry we will get out of this town". Charlie was afraid of everything, but I didn't blame him this time, I was scared also; for being caught.

We started walking again, with Charlie having his head down sadly. It broke my selfish heart to see him this scared, poor puppy. The night was dark and creepy it sent shivers running up and down my back. Then my heart lifted intentionally, up ahead I could see the wonderful bus stop. I was going to use the extra coins to pay for our ride; I was just hoping that the bus driver wouldn't notice Charlie.

Ways off I could hear the bus moving its way up the steep hill on the other side. My heart was beating like a race horse, I was on a journey I would never forget, but I never thought I would be going so far.

"Oh my, there it is Charlie!" The bus was at the top of the hill and starting its way down.

Charlie started barking with joy and wagging his tail frantically. This was a dream come true, ever since I began my life in that orphanage; I dreamed I would leave (besides when Genevive was around). I grabbed my bag and stood up nice and tall ready for an adventure. A smile secretly snuck onto my face.

The bus was quickly rolling down the hill. Then I thought to myself; isn't that bus going a little fast?

And yes it was, the bus was racing down the hill, my eyes were wide open with concern, I knew it was out of control, but some reason, I didn't believe myself or even my gut. I didn't move or shutter, I just stood there like a manikin and closed my eyes slowly. Charlie wanted to run (I wish he had), but he couldn't, so he just whimpered and whined, while the bus came closer and before we knew it, it was all over, life, joy, feelings, people, they were all gone, none of it mattered anymore.

The next day in the newspaper read "Orphan and Dog Hit by Midnight Bus Route".

Many people mourned, but not over me, over one other little human being who had died in the car accident. Not the bus driver or the nice lady holding her small baby. It was the little baby; Mariella.

I also forgot to mention that the poor bus driver recently died because he became depressed for what he had done. I saw him, he looked horrible, well isn't how how we always look in heaven, horrible.

I always wish I had known what my beautiful mother looked like or even my handsome father; they would have been helpful during the time I died (both my parents have sadly died too). They would have helped me understand everything that was unknown to me. But now I just don't care. When you die you ask yourself, why is there life, if you're just going to die. I will be this invisible girl forever; no one will ever notice me. Maybe I'm looking at life and me, the wrong way; maybe some day my death will be filled with joy, who ever said that life was better than death, we must have had a reason to die, maybe my reason will be uncovered in heaven.

Storymakers: A Creative Challenge for Young Writers, is a program inviting students in sixth, seventh, and eighth grades living in Washington State and British Columbia, Canada, to submit their own original creative writing pieces.