I did not enter it because I was too busy to write a story during the allotted time. Unfortunately most of these events are on the weekend which is my busiest time of the week. But That’s not going to keep me from trying them out just for the enjoyment of writing.
Cayla’s Worst Fear
Cayla knew that something wasn’t right when she walked in the front door. The familiar cracking and popping of her grandmother’s record player filled the stale air. There was a slight burnt smell coming from the kitchen.
“Grandma? It’s Cayla….you in the bathroom?” No answer.
Cayla made her way to the kitchen. There on the stove was a pot, bone dry, burner still on. She turned it off quickly, dropped her book bag on the floor and hurried to the living room.
“Grandma?” Still no answer. Smokey stretched and arched on the couch and hopped off, prancing over to greet her.
“Where’s your momma?” She reached down to pet him. Purring, he leaned into her hand. Walking over to the record player she stepped on something crunchy…cereal. Her grandmother would never have left anything on the floor. She was the cleanest women she knew, obsessed with having everything just so. Nor would she have left a pot on the stove unattended.
Something’s wrong. She thought to herself, starting to panic.
“Grandma! Where are you?” Her voice cracked with worry. She ran down the hall and into the bathroom. The light was on, but the room was empty. Too preoccupied to worry about turning off the light, she ran up the stairs to her grandmother’s room.
“Grandma?” She ripped the door open, frantic now, and froze. There her grandmother lay, quiet and still. Too still.
Tears welled up behind her eyes, a small cry stuck in the back of her throat. She knew what she would find when she leaned in to kiss her forehead. Cold.
She looked peaceful.
Cayla’s heart ached. The tears, now free falling, dropped onto her grandmother’s cheek. She wiped them off and stepped back from the bed. Her only friend lay lifeless in front of her. She was utterly alone.
Word Count: 306