Creative Writing Short Story, “Alone”Wookie
Winter had come, or so it seemed to the young girl sitting on Moss Rock near Boulder Mountain. Her breath appeared to freeze in mid-air, and sink slowly to the ground to join the snowflakes that danced in the sky not moments before. Her pale colored hands held on tightly to the object within. A note, left to her by her late father and mother. The child could feel nothing, for her heart had become frozen like the lake that waited for spring down below.
Instead of crying out in anguish, she chose to sit by herself and ponder on her own thoughts alone. Soon though, her friends from Amber Forest came to stand beside her. They called her, Talking Squirrel, but to ordinary people she was known as Emily. She was normally an animated child and the star of her family, except to her brothers and sisters. But today, she was quiet, unusually quiet. Even the forest animals noted something strange about her. She would usually come bounding into the forest with scraps or seeds. This time, she only held that note.
A certain cotton-tailed rabbit hopped one bounce at a time, until he was at her side. She looked down, and smiled. She stroked him on the back, and sang her favorite song. It was quite simple, nothing special about it, but Emily felt that it was right to sing this certain song to her animal friends.
“Touch me tender, hold me still.
I know that you love me
and you always will.
Take this little heart and set me free.
Wipe the tears away,
That I may see.”
A noise startled Emily and cut her doleful song short. Her head spun around to see that her animal friends had gone, while a beautiful lady in a flowing handmade dress was coming her way. The uninvited woman walked up to Emily and laid her hand on her shoulder. Emily said nothing, but instead looked to the valley below and watched the burial continue in its sad way. There, she watched her parents get lowered into the ground, and with each passing second go by, Emily came to the realization that she was really alone. Her brothers and sisters were all buried along the trail during their great trip across the Wild West.
“Emily dear, the wagons are leaving and the sun will be setting soon. Mr. Whitman is waiting, so we should go back to the campsite.” The lady’s sweet voice reminded Emily of the autumn breeze, singing its way to the next mountain pass.
“Yes, Mrs. Whitman. I will be there in a minute, but could I have just a little time before I go back? I want to say goodbye to Momma and Poppa.” Her sad and weary tone told Mrs. Whitman that this lonely child was suffering beyond any help someone outside her world could give her. She nodded and turned back in the direction from which she came.
Once again, Emily was alone—alone with just her thoughts and the torturous memories of yesterday. After watching the final load of dirt being thrown upon her parents’ graves, she stood up and gave a sad smile. “Goodbye.” And with that, she journeyed back to the camp site, where Mr. and Mrs. Whitman were waiting for her. As they rode toward the Whitman mission, Emily felt as though a long and dangerous journey had ended, while a new one unfolded.
Written by Christian Calhoun Age: 15
For the Surviving the Oregon Trail Contest 2016