The Hole by Kaitlin

In my Creative Writing class we have been working on writing short stories. Of course, along with that comes plot lines, how to get into conflict, how to be descriptive, how to resolve stories, and things like that. Anyways, we have been developing, writing, and editing our first ever short stories for a while and today was the day they came due. Every time our class has written assignments due, that class period we all read what we wrote for our class. At the end of the period, after everybody has gone, our teacher calls a vote to see what story was the class favorite. This time, only on my very first short story in this particular class, I felt like I had done really well writing and presenting. At the end of class, when it came time to vote, guess how many votes I got? Out of 40 submitted stories, 40 possible ways to vote, twenty-three people in my class voted for my story. Needless to say, I won. I think I might be good at this whole writing thing :)

This is the story I wrote. My mom say's its a little creepy, but whatever. All my stories always seem to have a certain theme... hmmph. I think my next short story will be about puppies or something. ;)

THE HOLE BY KAITLIN GRAY

All of the kids knew where it was. Last year, many of them had helped dig it. It was around 30 feet deep; an abyss that felt small and bottomless once you hit the ground. The blackness down there was almost tangible. It was creepy being in that hole.

We always kept a ladder near the famous tree that shadily covered our amazing hole with its long, leafy branches. Its crisp autumn leaves were helpful near this time of year, because we were able to hide the ladder underneath them. We kept it hidden so that no one helped to cheat out on a dare. At least two people a day would be dared to hop inside it, and we would all sneak outside our school, Westview High, at lunchtime to see it. Not that anyone did that anymore, though. Not since last month when a bullet zipped through the air and tried to kill my best friend.

And tried to kill me.

“You can do it, Drew! Fifteen more seconds and you will have beat the school's record by a full two minutes!” Andrew was my best friend. We'd known each other since the second grade and have lived next-door to each other almost our entire lives. He was tall and strong with the most gorgeous chocolate brown eyes I'd ever seen. His skin reflected his eyes and hair—which topped off his perfection. All the girls loved him… how could you resist?

“No. I can't do it, Sara. I can't! Just let me out already... I've had enough!” Drew was the quarterback on our high school's football team. As a jock, crying would have ruined his reputation. I could tell he was trying so hard to hold his emotions back, and finally I let him win.

“Okay, guys.” I said to the group around me, there to watch Drew suffer. “Let's let him out.” Another kid grabbed the ladder and lowered it down to him. Before I could even blink Drew had climbed up and was standing opposite me.

It was then that it came. A bullet, tearing through the air with one intention in mind: to kill.

It was a loud piercing sound that made the air ring with vibration. I fell flat on my back out of a sudden fear, and my heart began to race faster than a cheetah. That's when I realized I knew that sound. It was the sound of a single bullet, tearing through the seams of life.

The crowd stopped their mumbling, and the air turned to dead silence. I turned around as fast as I could and saw Drew on the ground cradling his arm. A small part of his shirt began to turn a deep red; and he looked startled and afraid. “They missed.” He said plainly.

Other kids began putting the usual saran wrap and leaves back over our hole, so that no one would find it. We all started back to the school, our thoughts heavy and distressed. It was no secret that someone had tried to shoot Drew... but why?

That night a familiar chime rang throughout my house that sent me racing to my bedroom to get my purse. The day's events had left me in a whirlwind of emotions, and I was looking to escape and go have some fun. Through the hall I heard my mother’s voice. “Come in, Drew.”

Driving to Talia's party, Drew seemed odd and shaken up. He had told me that the bullet barely missed him, although he had felt it rush by his arm. It had directed a flash of pain that had sent him flying backward; but he'd been lucky. Finally, we arrived at Talia's house in the blackest of nights. Drew and I stood ready to dance the night away. I felt happy and excited as I shut the door to our car, ready to leave the past behind me.

Loud music exuded from inside the walls of an expensive-looking house. Darkness faded as we approached the door and were showered with light. I could only ever wonder what the house looked like from the inside. A tall, thin man in all black grabbed me away from a crowd, and silenced my attempted screams. About ten minutes into the party was when Drew finally realized I was missing.

He began looking for me, and had no luck until he started outside and found me in an awkward corner of Talia's backyard. Faintly, a subtle crunch of autumn leaves gave him away. After that he cried, “SARA!” though his voice couldn't compete with the superfluous sounds that oozed from inside the house. Even if it had, no one would've saved me. They were all too drunk to care.

The man's attention diverted, but only for a moment. He wasn't about to let me go. My lungs felt crushed underneath him, and I felt as if I was going to pass out. Plump tears turned my vision blurry, and left small dark splotches on my clothing. I gasped for air as if I had been drowning, and attempted to mutter one final word: why?

The man laughed, and Drew began moving closer. “You see this scar?” He pointed to a long line of skin that stretched the length of his face. “Your parents did that. Two years ago, on the night of November 12^th. The night my wife died.” Now he was sobbing, and I felt his grip become tighter. I racked my memory. It wasn’t long until I realized that that was also the night my parents had gotten in a car crash… the night before they left me.

Puzzle pieces began fixing together in my head. Now it made sense. Two years ago my parents had caused a wreck on I-80, killing and injuring a Taylor and Wilson Stewart. They hadn’t meant for it to happen, and soon after the crash they had mysteriously disappeared. A phone call from a payphone had been sent to a babysitter that night that had left me in the precious care of my aunt and uncle.

“You… must… pay, Sara Lewis!”

“Wait!” Drew interrupted, and began inching closer to the man called Wilson. “This chick just broke up with me.” He spat in my direction, but didn’t actually hit me. “I’ll help you.” Drew smiled one of his million-dollar smiles, and if I hadn’t known him for so long I would’ve believed his feigned hatred.

“But we can’t do it here.” Drew said. “It’s too obvious… you’ll get caught. I know just the place.” Wilson smiled, going along with the plan.

I felt deserted and alone sitting in the trunk of Wilson’s car. It was as if an icy shadow dispersed throughout my entire field of sight; and I felt helpless and distraught. It was an eerie, tangible sort of darkness which gave me a feeling of absolute terror. My eyes were closed tight, unable to face reality. My hands and feet began feeling numb underneath the binding rope. My mouth tasted nothing but dryness and the salt of my tears.

It wasn’t long before we arrived at the school, and I was flung out of the trunk. I felt my bones crush underneath me. It was then that I decided I was going to die. Drew picked me up with a gentle force, and motioned for Wilson to follow him. We began to wind around a path I knew all too well.

“The twine around Sara’s mouth is coming loose.” Drew began. “Can you hand me your knife so I can cut some more?” He mouthed the word ‘sorry’ before throwing me hard onto the ground. My entire body ached in pain.

“No.” Wilson said, firmly. “I’ll do it.” Apparently he wasn’t as dumb as Drew had thought. He grabbed his bundle of cord and held out a piece for Wilson to cut. Just as he began to saw, Drew threw Wilson to the ground and seized his knife. At least playing football is good for something, I thought. Wilson quickly regained his balance, but Drew was already ahead of him. He pointed the knife at his neck, and began inching toward him ever so slowly. Wilson inched backward, and within three steps he was gone. Shrieks had become all too familiar to me; and Wilson’s were hideous and coarse. He stopped when he hit the bottom, and fell silent soon thereafter.

“He might’ve hit his head on the rock.” Drew said, running toward me. “He’ll only be out for a few minutes, which means we have to hurry.” He cut my ropes with his knife, and left me heaving air in and out of my lungs. I was too lightheaded to speak or move, but I signaled for Drew to call 911. The round moon began slowly turning to a crescent, until all light had ceased in existence. My eyes began to feel increasingly heavy, and before I knew it the world only existed in my dreams.

My life soon returned back to normal. Drew and I returned to school, my popularity levels skyrocketed, and I had begun to actually put an effort I had previously been lacking into school. In fact, I ended that year having made Honor Roll. But ever since that day I have pondered one question that will guide my life forever: what if I died tomorrow? 

What if we all died tomorrow, knowing only in our heads a life which we so unadventurously lived? What would happen when that bullet, so unforgiving, took our very last breath as his own? And when that happened we’d lay motionless as our life ended; endless images running through our minds of time we so unappreciatively wasted. Time is precious, you see, and without adventure treasurable time is lost. We should make mistakes, live life. Without doing so we are merely a ghost; undead, yet lifeless. There is no point to live if your life is filled with nothing out of the ordinary. Life isn’t life without mistakes. Always remember, mistakes are adventure, and adventure is life. Without adventure you would be dead.

You would die tomorrow.

I have since lived by that philosophy, and it has guided me down paths I had never imagined possible. In the end the cops arrested Wilson, who is now serving a lifetime sentence. Who would’ve thought that a measly hole would end up saving my life in the end? Well, that and the help of a good friend.