United States

Still Trying to Figure Things Out

14 Years of Age


Avid Reader
Easily Bored
Very Forgetful
Fourth-Generation Floridian


(Joined February 2020)

Message to Readers

Feedback on this would be fantastic. Then, I can not only improve this piece, but my writing in general. Please don't feel pressured to tell me what you think I could improve, though.

The Blood Box

March 31, 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.   My heart was pounding so hard I thought is would fly out of my body. I looked over at my brother, Blake. His face was stricken, white. Eyes wide, fear swallowing both him and me. We swerved off the road, flying into a ditch. The airbags activated and exploded in front of us. I slumped sideways, 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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  • Emi

    I love this piece! It's really amazing how you show her relationship to her family. It would be nice if it was a little longer though and had more details about how the crash happened, the surgery, etc.

    about 1 year ago
  • Loser

    Responding: Prompt 1 for my competition is absolutely fictional! Provided it is within the word count and not breaking my rules for swearing or content, it can be fictional! (It's the short story category, so it's sort of supposed to be fictional, in fact.)

    over 1 year ago
  • Loser

    This is definitely an improvement over the last one! Good work!

    over 1 year ago
  • CreativeAngel

    Oh wow the suspense really built up! You could turn this into an adventure series if you wanted, i'd definitely read it :)

    over 1 year ago