Like Connie? OK, here's the deal!
Write a short story about Connie and the characters around her. The best short story will be displayed on a post of mine. The second and third will be mentioned. Good luck!
~Storyteller
*Rules apply.
Rules: write a short story and put it into the comments of this post. No copying any instance that actually happened in the story. Please keep the characters' personalities the same as much as you can (example: no making Connie mean. But Grandma Beacon could be alive). Thanks for participating!
Note: please put the story in the comments of this post.
I glanced out the window of Grandma Beacon's house. Grandpa George had just died, and even God seemed to be mourning his death with the raindrops that splattered on the second-story window in front of me.
ReplyDelete"Connie!" Grandma yelled up the stairs. "Connie, your mom's here! She wants to leave!"
I didn't answer and slowly padded towards the steps. The clicking of nails announced the arrival of my grandmother's wolf, Tonto, as he walked up the stairs to stare at me until I sighed and followed him down there. I slipped on my rubberboots at the door, pausing as I caught sight of Grandpa George's old boots, sitting there, so alone and by themselves. They'd never see their owner again. I glanced out the window and, to my surprise, saw Grandma Beacon out in the rain talking to my mom through the window. Then Mom drove off. Grandma came back in, shaking off rain like a wet dog and carefully placing her wet rubberboots by Grandpa George's.
"I asked if you could stay for the weekend and she said yes," Grandpa explained at the look on my face.
She didn't say anything after that and just came over and gave me a hug. I found myself sobbing silently in her arms. Finally, I felt her warm breath on my head as she whispered into my hair,
"You know, Connie, Grandpa George isn't dead."
"Yes he is!" I yelled, tears streaking down my cheeks as I teared myself out of her embrace. "He's gone!"
Grandpa Beacon smiled kindly. "He's departed this earth, but now he's alive with Jesus in heaven. You will see him again, Connie, if you believe in God." She sat me down on the couch. "You see, death is a weird thing. In a way, we don't really die. For we will live on forever after death--just whether in heaven or hell is our decision." She smiled kindly. "He is not dead. He is alive in Christ!"
I smiled through my tears and hugged her. And in that instant I knew that she was right and that everything was going to be OK.