Short Fiction by Emily

Thought I'd share this short piece Emily wrote for her creative writing club.

[Editor's note:  John didn't like his "line."  He didn't think it sounded like something he would actually say.  I pointed out that this is fiction, so it's not him.  You can tell because the brother in the story is named Jon with no h.]            


            I am Eloenne.  I am 12 years old.  I am in seventh grade at Williamsburg middle school in Arlington, Virginia.  I am the best in class at math, and I do not like getting in trouble or being late. 

            You can understand my franticness when I woke up on Thursday, turned over, and realized it was exactly 8:27—school would start in three minutes.

            I was out of bed in a flash.  I changed pants, pulled on a sweater, and ran into the hall.  Hammering on my brother Jon’s door, I screamed, “We’re late, we’re late!  Hurry up!”  I ran downstairs, grabbed a banana, and raced outside.  I got my bike and rushed down Lee Highway, turned left, and was halfway up the hill when my bike got stuck in the snow.  Wait—snow?  I looked around.  Everywhere I looked everything was covered in snow.  A beautiful, sparkly white sheet, untouched except for my bicycle tracks.

            It was three while minutes later (8:36) that I realized I needed to go.  I turned my back on Lee Highway, dug my bike out of the snow, and continued up the hill.  I was fourteen minutes late by the time I got to school.  I put my bike on the rack, not even bothering to lock it up. 

I rushed to the door and pushed.  It stayed.  I pushed again.  It stayed.  I looked at the crack in the door.  No!  It was locked!  I tried every other door, but each one was locked.  No!  I looked inside.  Wait a minute.  Doors locked…   3 feet of snow….  Mom didn’t wake me up…  Of course!  Why didn’t I see it before!  It was a snow day!

The newspapers had been predicting snow for days.  It was then that I realized my feet were freezing.  I my rush, I had forgotten to put on shoes.  My socks were now soaked.  I went back to my bike and went home.  I raced upstairs and changed socks.  I banged on Jon’s door.

            “Jon, Jon!” I screamed.  “Wake up, wake up!  There’s three feet of snow and there’s no cars on Lee Highway!”

            “Sheesh, chill, Sis.  We’ve got time.”

            But I was gone.  I went to the neighbour’s house, telling them the same thing.  At 9:01, we met at the corner.  We went down the road towards Lee Highway.  And, working together, the eleven of us built a huge snowman in the middle of Lee Highway.  By the time we finished, fourteen people had joined in.  That was a winter we’d all remember.

The end.