- Nov 6, 2004
- 9,902
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- Faith
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- US-Republican
First off...this is one of those stories that I have no idea what I am writing, or what the climax, resolution, or even the plot is going to be. I am simply making it up as I go along, so it probably does not make any sense. Even my title is extremely skeptical.
Anyway, I would love to hear some feedback on this!
“Oh, shut up.” The girl murmured under her breath, pushing her stringy brown hair out of her eyes. She was tired of listening to the endless rumble of their ancient van, exhausted from her little sisters’ chatter, and fed up with the never ending, frowning image of her father in the rearview mirror.
Then again, it was a rare occurrence when her father was not frowning. For two years now, his face had been bent permanently into the unmoving grimace. His cheerful chuckle, sparkling eyes, and youthful laugh had been abolished by an unspoken rule long ago. Indeed, the current state of the Howard family was vastly different from what it had been only five hundred and forty-seven days ago. The girl bit her lip grimly. That accursed number of days was always stuck in her head. Then again, it should be. The day that had occurred five hundred and forty-seven days ago still haunted her every memory, every step, every waking and sleeping moment.
“Daaaaddy!!!” Her youngest sister wailed loudly, jerking the girl out of her thoughts. “I’m tiiiiired!!! And huuungry!” Lotte, the littlest sister, certainly had the unusual talent of drawing out syllables to their most potent, annoying length.
“We’ll be there soon. Try to quiet down; it’s hard to drive in this snow,” her father replied sternly.
The girl glanced out the window. It was snowing out, the white flakes tumbling and flitting through the air until they met their oblivion on the van’s windshield. The girl heaved a sigh. The snow was so much like life: freefalling, existing with glee one moment, vanished forever the next. Like their mother.
“Dad, like, there’s completely like something in the road up there.” Brittany, the middle sister, pointed out in her bored, nasally voice. Her earphones slid off her head as she pushed herself out of her normal, terrible posture to see out the window.
“I know. I see it. It looks like a man standing out there,” the father replied, glaring out the windshield.
Brit snorted. “Like, out here?! Whoa, like, you must be crazy to be out here. Like, the last town we passed was like completely two hours ago.”
It was true. The wilderness of Canada did not have much in the way of civilization. They had not seen a soul for hours, and the girl was beginning to lose any hope of the town they were headed to being civilized either.
The van slowed as the father rolled down his window to yell to the man through the blinded snowstorm. The man was dressed in the bright orange outfit of a traffic controller, and he was holding a stop sign.
“Is there some sort of problem, sir?” her father asked concernedly as the man reached the van.
“No! We are just doing some routine repairs out here on the road. This part of the road is completely inaccessible right now.”
“Repairs?” her father declared in disbelief. “Here? Now? Does anyone actually use this road?”
“Yes, sir. Which is why we’re repairing it. If you want, you can take a detour across this field and meet up with the rest of the road on the other side.”
The girl examined the man skeptically. She could not fathom why road repairs were being carried out in the dead of winter, on a road that led to one tiny town. Still, she could see the blinking lights of repair vehicles up ahead; now her father was beginning to pull off the road into the expansive field. She should have known he would opt for a detour instead of taking them back to civilization—to Chicago, where they belonged!
“Daaaddy, don’t ruuun over any cute little animaaals!” Lotte shrieked as the van lumbered away from the road and the construction equipment. Her father did not bother to reply; his eyes were glued to the field ahead. It seemed to stretch out forever in the blinding snow. The girl was nervous about the field; it seemed like the farther they drove into it the farther they drove away from reality. Then again, sitting in a van in the middle of Canada did not seem like reality. She sighed and hunkered down in the uncomfortable seat, glowering.
“Okay, this is like completely freaky. I hate fields. Don’t you hate fields? I want to go shopping. I hate snow. I really need to like, find a restroom out here.” Brittany babbled endlessly.
“Brit, stop your bellyaching for a few seconds,” the girl grumbled. “I highly doubt there is a bathroom out here anywhere.”
“But, like, there were construction people out there! There had to be like, a bathroom or something.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “Be quiet! Dad needs to concentrate on the road. Wait, I mean…the field. Where are we, anyway?”
The field, so far, had not connected to a road. Now the lights of the vehicles in the back had completely vanished, and the only visible things were the snow and the tall grass of the field. It was eerie.
Suddenly, the ground seemed to drop away before the van. A pit loomed before them; it was not very deep, but enough to cause some concern.
“Must be some sort of drainage or irrigation system in the summer.” The father said worriedly. “It’s not that deep. This old van can drive through it.”
“Or we can go back to Chicago now and forget you ever took this stinking job out here.” The girl suggested darkly, meeting her father’s glare in the rearview mirror.
Her father did not reply but carefully drove the van down the steep embankment. The girl rolled her eyes and tapped her fingers on the armrest, looking out the window again. They were almost at the bottom of the embankment.
Then, quickly, before she could blink an eye, the ground had dropped away even farther. Evidently, the “irrigation system” was steeper than they had realized. Now the van was on the side of a steep hill instead of an embankment, and all three sisters in the van were able to unite on one thing.
“Dad. Turn the van around! Now!” the girl urged.
“Like, Dad, this van is like completely going to fall! We need to like, stop.” Brittany squealed.
“Daaaady, this hiiill is scaaaary!” Lotte wailed.
The father frowned. He could not exactly turn around. “It is just a hill, girls. Lest you forget, there are also hills in Chicago. We are going to reach the town tonight.” He released the brake slowly and the van began to inch downhill.
That was really the last conscious image the girl saw. She was aware of a sickening sliding sensation, then that feeling that one gets on an airplane when it is descending. Her stomach went to her throat, and she screamed as the van hit a large, protruding boulder, flipped, and plummeted down the hill. Her thick novel flew up and hit across the head, and then amid the screams of Brittany and Lotte, her vision darkened and then everything went black, completely and utterly.
“Like this. Watch.” The woman chuckled, holding up the antique bonnet. “It went across your head like this.” The woman, young and pretty, happily leaned forward to place the bonnet on her daughter’s head. Her eyes were sparkling, and the girl instantly knew who the woman was.
“Mom.” She said quietly, knowing even in her dream it was impossible.
“What, sweeting?” the woman replied absentmindedly, placing the bonnet back on its rack once the girl backed nervously away.
“Mom, you can’t go outside. You can’t! Just stay here and see if another bonnet will fit me.” The girl pleaded, but her mother just laughed.
“Oh, dearie, we have to pick up little Brittany from school, and then go make dinner for your father. We really do not have time to look at outfits for your school play at all. We’ll come back tomorrow.” The woman smiled and stepped out of the boutique, motioning for the girl to follow.
The girl winced, knowing what would happen. It always happened, and she could not prevent it. The sound of squealing tires, a horn blaring, the sickening thud of a fast-moving vehicle slamming into an object. A scream, then silence. The girl screamed herself, seeing herself that day in that shop, while her entire life was ruined in a moment. She shook herself awake, shook herself out of the dream, and thankfully the blackness rose up and began to envelop her again.
“You awake?”
This was the first thing the girl heard when she swam back to consciousness. Her head hurt horribly. Actually, her entire body ached. She felt like she had just been slammed repeatedly against a wall.
“Well, I see you are. That’s a good sign, at least. We thought you weren’t going to make it. I didn’t think anyone could survive a fall off of Cramer’s Ravine. Tricky place, that is. Especially in the snow.” The voice ceased, and then the girl heard cheerful humming. She opened her eyes painfully and found herself staring at a wood-paneled ceiling. Warm lamplight glinted off it, and she swiveled her head around the see the source of the voice. It was a movement she should not have made. Instantly, daggers of pain shot through her neck, and she groaned.
“I wouldn’t be moving if I were you. You’re pretty banged up.” The person, carrying a wet cloth, moved into her limited line of sight. Her vision was blurry, but she could see that it was a young man, about in his early twenties, with a tangled patch of black hair.
“Here’s a nice little cloth for your head, you’ll feel all better soon.” The man placed the cloth of her forehead and then was gone again, though she could still hear his humming. The cool cloth brought back momentary clarity to her mind, and she remembered with a jolt what had happened to her.
“My family! Dad, Brittany, Lotte! They were in the van with me…where are they? Are they safe? W-what happened?” The girl’s voice trembled as she spoke.
The young man’s voice sounded puzzled as he replied, “Family? No, my father—he pulled you out of the wreckage—said you were the only one there. I thought you looked a bit young to drive. I’ll have to have him go back and check again.”
The girl wished her head did not hurt so badly. Then she would jump out of the bed she had been placed in and would go search for her family. They have to be okay; she thought tearfully, they just have to be okay!
“…’Course, there’s a chance they could have woken up and wandered off looking for you. Pa said you were hard to spot,” the man continued, and now she could hear the frown in his voice.
She would have replied—thought it probably would not have been a reply, but a frantic order to find her family immediately—but a low, guttural voice called from outside the room. “Elijah! Git o’er here!” She could hear the young man drop whatever he had been holding and rush toward the door.
“I’ll be back…and you just lie still,” he told her, and then she heard the door shutting, and she was alone.

Anyway, I would love to hear some feedback on this!
Chapter One
“Oh, shut up.” The girl murmured under her breath, pushing her stringy brown hair out of her eyes. She was tired of listening to the endless rumble of their ancient van, exhausted from her little sisters’ chatter, and fed up with the never ending, frowning image of her father in the rearview mirror.
Then again, it was a rare occurrence when her father was not frowning. For two years now, his face had been bent permanently into the unmoving grimace. His cheerful chuckle, sparkling eyes, and youthful laugh had been abolished by an unspoken rule long ago. Indeed, the current state of the Howard family was vastly different from what it had been only five hundred and forty-seven days ago. The girl bit her lip grimly. That accursed number of days was always stuck in her head. Then again, it should be. The day that had occurred five hundred and forty-seven days ago still haunted her every memory, every step, every waking and sleeping moment.
“Daaaaddy!!!” Her youngest sister wailed loudly, jerking the girl out of her thoughts. “I’m tiiiiired!!! And huuungry!” Lotte, the littlest sister, certainly had the unusual talent of drawing out syllables to their most potent, annoying length.
“We’ll be there soon. Try to quiet down; it’s hard to drive in this snow,” her father replied sternly.
The girl glanced out the window. It was snowing out, the white flakes tumbling and flitting through the air until they met their oblivion on the van’s windshield. The girl heaved a sigh. The snow was so much like life: freefalling, existing with glee one moment, vanished forever the next. Like their mother.
“Dad, like, there’s completely like something in the road up there.” Brittany, the middle sister, pointed out in her bored, nasally voice. Her earphones slid off her head as she pushed herself out of her normal, terrible posture to see out the window.
“I know. I see it. It looks like a man standing out there,” the father replied, glaring out the windshield.
Brit snorted. “Like, out here?! Whoa, like, you must be crazy to be out here. Like, the last town we passed was like completely two hours ago.”
It was true. The wilderness of Canada did not have much in the way of civilization. They had not seen a soul for hours, and the girl was beginning to lose any hope of the town they were headed to being civilized either.
The van slowed as the father rolled down his window to yell to the man through the blinded snowstorm. The man was dressed in the bright orange outfit of a traffic controller, and he was holding a stop sign.
“Is there some sort of problem, sir?” her father asked concernedly as the man reached the van.
“No! We are just doing some routine repairs out here on the road. This part of the road is completely inaccessible right now.”
“Repairs?” her father declared in disbelief. “Here? Now? Does anyone actually use this road?”
“Yes, sir. Which is why we’re repairing it. If you want, you can take a detour across this field and meet up with the rest of the road on the other side.”
The girl examined the man skeptically. She could not fathom why road repairs were being carried out in the dead of winter, on a road that led to one tiny town. Still, she could see the blinking lights of repair vehicles up ahead; now her father was beginning to pull off the road into the expansive field. She should have known he would opt for a detour instead of taking them back to civilization—to Chicago, where they belonged!
“Daaaddy, don’t ruuun over any cute little animaaals!” Lotte shrieked as the van lumbered away from the road and the construction equipment. Her father did not bother to reply; his eyes were glued to the field ahead. It seemed to stretch out forever in the blinding snow. The girl was nervous about the field; it seemed like the farther they drove into it the farther they drove away from reality. Then again, sitting in a van in the middle of Canada did not seem like reality. She sighed and hunkered down in the uncomfortable seat, glowering.
“Okay, this is like completely freaky. I hate fields. Don’t you hate fields? I want to go shopping. I hate snow. I really need to like, find a restroom out here.” Brittany babbled endlessly.
“Brit, stop your bellyaching for a few seconds,” the girl grumbled. “I highly doubt there is a bathroom out here anywhere.”
“But, like, there were construction people out there! There had to be like, a bathroom or something.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “Be quiet! Dad needs to concentrate on the road. Wait, I mean…the field. Where are we, anyway?”
The field, so far, had not connected to a road. Now the lights of the vehicles in the back had completely vanished, and the only visible things were the snow and the tall grass of the field. It was eerie.
Suddenly, the ground seemed to drop away before the van. A pit loomed before them; it was not very deep, but enough to cause some concern.
“Must be some sort of drainage or irrigation system in the summer.” The father said worriedly. “It’s not that deep. This old van can drive through it.”
“Or we can go back to Chicago now and forget you ever took this stinking job out here.” The girl suggested darkly, meeting her father’s glare in the rearview mirror.
Her father did not reply but carefully drove the van down the steep embankment. The girl rolled her eyes and tapped her fingers on the armrest, looking out the window again. They were almost at the bottom of the embankment.
Then, quickly, before she could blink an eye, the ground had dropped away even farther. Evidently, the “irrigation system” was steeper than they had realized. Now the van was on the side of a steep hill instead of an embankment, and all three sisters in the van were able to unite on one thing.
“Dad. Turn the van around! Now!” the girl urged.
“Like, Dad, this van is like completely going to fall! We need to like, stop.” Brittany squealed.
“Daaaady, this hiiill is scaaaary!” Lotte wailed.
The father frowned. He could not exactly turn around. “It is just a hill, girls. Lest you forget, there are also hills in Chicago. We are going to reach the town tonight.” He released the brake slowly and the van began to inch downhill.
That was really the last conscious image the girl saw. She was aware of a sickening sliding sensation, then that feeling that one gets on an airplane when it is descending. Her stomach went to her throat, and she screamed as the van hit a large, protruding boulder, flipped, and plummeted down the hill. Her thick novel flew up and hit across the head, and then amid the screams of Brittany and Lotte, her vision darkened and then everything went black, completely and utterly.
*****
“Like this. Watch.” The woman chuckled, holding up the antique bonnet. “It went across your head like this.” The woman, young and pretty, happily leaned forward to place the bonnet on her daughter’s head. Her eyes were sparkling, and the girl instantly knew who the woman was.
“Mom.” She said quietly, knowing even in her dream it was impossible.
“What, sweeting?” the woman replied absentmindedly, placing the bonnet back on its rack once the girl backed nervously away.
“Mom, you can’t go outside. You can’t! Just stay here and see if another bonnet will fit me.” The girl pleaded, but her mother just laughed.
“Oh, dearie, we have to pick up little Brittany from school, and then go make dinner for your father. We really do not have time to look at outfits for your school play at all. We’ll come back tomorrow.” The woman smiled and stepped out of the boutique, motioning for the girl to follow.
The girl winced, knowing what would happen. It always happened, and she could not prevent it. The sound of squealing tires, a horn blaring, the sickening thud of a fast-moving vehicle slamming into an object. A scream, then silence. The girl screamed herself, seeing herself that day in that shop, while her entire life was ruined in a moment. She shook herself awake, shook herself out of the dream, and thankfully the blackness rose up and began to envelop her again.
“You awake?”
This was the first thing the girl heard when she swam back to consciousness. Her head hurt horribly. Actually, her entire body ached. She felt like she had just been slammed repeatedly against a wall.
“Well, I see you are. That’s a good sign, at least. We thought you weren’t going to make it. I didn’t think anyone could survive a fall off of Cramer’s Ravine. Tricky place, that is. Especially in the snow.” The voice ceased, and then the girl heard cheerful humming. She opened her eyes painfully and found herself staring at a wood-paneled ceiling. Warm lamplight glinted off it, and she swiveled her head around the see the source of the voice. It was a movement she should not have made. Instantly, daggers of pain shot through her neck, and she groaned.
“I wouldn’t be moving if I were you. You’re pretty banged up.” The person, carrying a wet cloth, moved into her limited line of sight. Her vision was blurry, but she could see that it was a young man, about in his early twenties, with a tangled patch of black hair.
“Here’s a nice little cloth for your head, you’ll feel all better soon.” The man placed the cloth of her forehead and then was gone again, though she could still hear his humming. The cool cloth brought back momentary clarity to her mind, and she remembered with a jolt what had happened to her.
“My family! Dad, Brittany, Lotte! They were in the van with me…where are they? Are they safe? W-what happened?” The girl’s voice trembled as she spoke.
The young man’s voice sounded puzzled as he replied, “Family? No, my father—he pulled you out of the wreckage—said you were the only one there. I thought you looked a bit young to drive. I’ll have to have him go back and check again.”
The girl wished her head did not hurt so badly. Then she would jump out of the bed she had been placed in and would go search for her family. They have to be okay; she thought tearfully, they just have to be okay!
“…’Course, there’s a chance they could have woken up and wandered off looking for you. Pa said you were hard to spot,” the man continued, and now she could hear the frown in his voice.
She would have replied—thought it probably would not have been a reply, but a frantic order to find her family immediately—but a low, guttural voice called from outside the room. “Elijah! Git o’er here!” She could hear the young man drop whatever he had been holding and rush toward the door.
“I’ll be back…and you just lie still,” he told her, and then she heard the door shutting, and she was alone.
*****