United States


13 Years of Age


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Child of Hades

(Joined February 2020)

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Hey! Getting feedback would be great! I could really use it to build up this piece - and my writing.

The Blood Box

March 30, 2020


    "Leslie!" my mom called.
"Coming!" I replied.
I grabbed my phone and a notebook to jot some thoughts down in, then ran downstairs. I darted to the car to go to Mom's favorite restaurant. About a mile from the restaurant, a drunk driver hit us. We swerved off the road and into a ditch. The airbags activate and explode in front of us. Then I went unconscious.

    I awoke in a hospital room. My first thoughts: How is Mom? How is Dad? And, how is Blake? A nurse walked into the room.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry to inform you that your parents died. Your brother is barley hanging onto his life. The doctors are trying their best to help him, but he's expected to die, too."
Devastation struck me like a brick. No, he can't die. He can't...
"I'm sorry." the nurse apologized.
"It's not your fault. Can I see Blake?" I requested.
"I'm sorry, he is undergoing surgery right now."
"Let me rephrase that. Let me see my brother."
"I-I can't."
I turned over, unwilling to listen to anyone. I was shaken by the death of my parents. The doctors were sure my only family left would die, too. I might as well kill myself. At least then I wouldn't feel the pain of loss. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

    My dream disturbed me. I saw a box. But, it wasn't any ordinary box. It was a blood-filled box. On all of it's sides, there were names etched on it. My eyes drifted over them, but stopped at one. Kaylee Baker. My mother. Next to her names, was my father's: Patrick Baker. Underneath their names, I saw the letters B-L-A. I assumed they were going to spell Blake. I stared at the letter, upset. What I saw next, shocked me greatly. The letter A faded away. Then, a couple minutes later, the L disappeared. I sat, perfectly still. The letter B vanished.

    I launched myself into a sitting position. Was Blake dead? Or, was he alive? The nurse from yesterday rushed in, a huge grin spread across her face.
"Blake Baker!" she exclaimed. "He surpassed the doctors' expectations! He's alive!"
A look of pure delight crossed over my face. Then, my mind wandered back to my dream. Were all the names written on the box people who had died? No, it couldn't have been. The box was to small to hold the blood of all the people of the world, past and present. There would be no way to contain all the blood of all ages in one little box. Simply impossible. There is no way, is there?


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1 Comment
  • Loser

    This is an amazing start! I would recommend, however, that perhaps you lengthen this and include more thoughts; let the reader stay in the moment of Leslie's pain and fear a bit longer.

    This rather reminds me of Back to the Future, when Marty McFly sees his siblings disappearing off a photograph.

    10 months ago