Creative Writing - Short Stories

Words: Bridge, Sweater, neglect, view, alcoholic, lovely.

Another gloomy evening. Only this time, things had gotten worse.

The cold autumn wind pushed long strands of dark blonde hair in her face as she walked along the empty streets of her hometown. It used to be a nice small place with just enough people to not feel lonely. It had old fashioned cottages and modern family houses all the same, without looking patched or being too contrasting. Every home had it’s own display of nicely kept, colourful flowerbeds and the air was filled with the scent of seasonal herbs.

All of this used to paint a faint smile on her face, but she had stopped noticing a while ago. Back then, when her life broke apart and all the beauty of this world faded to grey.

It must have been almost two months now. Two months since her mother was taken away to the hospital, ending the perfect summer in an early disaster. She had known about her mothers sickness, yet she insisted on going on that ****** roadtrip across the country. It was a foolish dream, and now she had to pay the price for her ignorance. Years of knowing made her underestimate how destructive such a small thing could be and how easily the situation could get out of control.

She looked up from her feet, noticing how close she had gotten to that littlle yellow house on the corner of her street. Tightening her scarf again, she took a right, towards the old marketplace. As she was wandering between the partly torn up stalls, the regret gnawing at her conscience became too strong to bear. She shouldn’t have yelled at her father before. None of this was his fault, and neither was it hers. So she couldn’t blame him for drinking away the pain like today. Being mad at him wasn’t going to change anything. On the contrary, it was her turn to be strong and help him out of this bottomless pit and show him the light again. The sickness would have taken her mother eventually, that had always been outside of their control. They were both lucky to be able to prepare for this moment, otherwise things might have gotten even worse for the two of them.

A sudden gust of wind allowed the cold air around her to pierce through her sweater, awaking her from her thoughts. Only now she realised how far her aimless wandering had taken her. She was standing in front of the old watermill her family used to visit for having picnics, cooling off and playing in the stream. From here, one has a breathtaking view over the small town in the distance. She knew this place like it was her second home and she started following the steady flow of the water towards the nearby forest. There she found her favourite place. It was an overgrown bridge leading the pathway into the dark and mysterious undergrowth beneath the towering trees all around. Many of the decaying stone bricks were already cracked up and some pieces of the low walls once flanking the bridge were missing. Yet to her, it was still the most beautiful place on this world. Not because of it’s appearance, but for all the happy memories it brought back to life.

The only sounds surrounding her were the rustling of leaves and water, and the chirping of countless birds, singing their ballads to one another. In this moment all the stress and worries were lifted off her shoulders and she felt a surge of inner strength and determination to make things right again. Even if she had to lose her mother, she wouldn’t loose her father too. The future was still in her hands, and she was gonna keep going forward no matter what.

Taking one last deep breath, she prepared herself to walk back to her home to apologize to her father, and they would visit her mother in the hospital on sturday.

Looking up at the horizon, she could see the sun setting, but she knew it would rise again tomorrow.

What a lovely evening it was.