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INTP | science & art | leo

watercolor & sea salt

my goal is to become a cryptic elderly soapmaker.

very gay, very liberal, credible knowledge is power

member of the lady knights guild

Joined Sep. 2018

Message to Readers

This one's a bit of an oldie, but I always need feedback. What works? What doesn't? Feel free to share :)

Just a Lie #plottwist

February 12, 2019


    "Happy birthday, Kelly!" My family cheers around me. Declan is on my right, laughing and shaking his head crowned with auburn curls. Bridget sits to my left, on the floor next to the table. I reach down to ruffle her equally curly and equally red hair; she's lucky, unlike me, who got the dirty blonde genes from Dad. She giggles and extends a pale, pudgy hand, a silent request for a high five; I happily oblige.
    Mom and Dad stand behind me with large, proud grins painting their faces.
    "Blow out the candles, Kel!" Declan cries, clapping his hands.
    "And don't forget to make a wish!" Dad chimes, dropping a hand on my shoulder.
    I smile back at them, then focus on the rich chocolate cake set before me. Its pristine white candles burn high and bright, the flames' reflections dancing on glass. It's perfect.
    I stop to think, What could I possibly ask for?
    As if my thoughts were answered, everything shifts. Smiles melt in the flurry of smoke, and I see nothing, feel nothing.
    Pain crushes through my chest as my vision focuses. I see a smooth marble headstone that reads:
    "Kelly Elizabeth O'Brien ~ 1997-2010"
    I turn, and see my mother sobbing as if the Earth was burning, a scowl on my father's face. Little Bridget and Declan behind them with trembling lips and wet eyes. I see everything turn black...black.
    Nothing but black.

    I wake with a gasp, shirt plastered to my back. I push my unruly hair back as I take gasping, sobbing breaths.
    It was the dream again. The dream where Kelly was still alive, where she was celebrating her 13th birthday. But it's different this time; Today, she would've been 20. 
    We were supposed to be a happy family. Instead, we were broken: Mom, favoring corked glass bottles over her family. Dad, abandoning us with the hospital bills, driven away by grief. And Declan, two years younger than me, barely remembering Kelly but taking the brunt of her death.
    She was our glue, Kelly was. Without her, we drifted apart, untethered balloons destined to be popped.
    I can try, but I can't be Kelly. But some days, it's hard to remember that I am not her, not the glue; I am only Bridget O'Brien, her younger sister. And although I recall her 13th birthday as if it were yesterday, I begin to wonder if Kelly was ever real at all.
    Or if it was all just a lie.
Not sure if it's a plot twist? Sort of an unintentional spin on the "it was all a dream" cliche I think. A somewhat old piece, but it has a special place in my heart.


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  • jun lei

    writetheworld.com/groups/1/shared/112244/version/216023 *bats eyelashes hopefully*

    3 months ago
  • Dmoral13

    Winners posted: https://writetheworld.com/groups/1/shared/107805/version/206854

    over 1 year ago
  • Xavier Nelson

    Anything you have to contribute is welcomed ^w^

    over 1 year ago