Mary Wall

United States

Aspiring Author
Dancer
Bookdragon
Icecream Consumer
Daughter of the King
Dessert Craver
Homeschooler
Adventurer
Dreamer
Coffee Drinker
Fangirling over the Ranger Apprentice Series
ISFJ

Message to Readers

Gosh. I guess I like food and tragedy more than I thought---now I'm mixing them... XD I appreciate any feedback! You guys are awesome!

Lasagna and Strawberry Pie

February 13, 2020

PROMPT: Now to Then

4
The heavenly smell of my grandmother's strawberry pies wafted out the kitchen window to me as I traced the veins of her prized white tiger lily and waited for inspiration to hit, my charcoal pencil poised and ready above my sketchpad. Instead, my thoughts wandered back to a similar warm spring day, two years ago.

"Sophie, your mom would be furious, and your dad would never let me into his house again!" Ben gripped my ankles tighter, his face nearly touching the rough wood of the tall fence. I laughed quietly, and changed the ISO on my iphone's camera. 
    "Quit whining and hold still. I just need a few more shots..." my voice trailed off and I bit my lower lip in concentration. 
    "Are you saying that taking pictures of an abandoned house is more important to you than I am?" 
    I sighed. 
    "You're such a wimp. Lower me down."
    I have never felt more afraid for my life than when he bent to lower me. I lurched backward, squeaked very unflatteringly, and barely saved myself by catching the jagged top of the fence. I righted myself and carefully hopped down, whacking Ben's shoulder as he straightened. 
    "Very funny. Guess who's not coming over for dinner tonight?" I raised an eyebrow at him. 
    "But tonight's lasagna! I always come over for lasagna!" He jogged slowly beside me, keeping pace with my fast-walk. 
    "Tell me who your crush is," I said, feeling like a genius. He stopped mid-stride. 
    "That's not fair!" he said He started jogging again, but he kept giving me the evil eye. 
    "I'm not telling you." He huffed indignantly. "Why would I tell you anyway?" He cast me a sidelong glance. "Did you get the pictures you wanted?"
    I grinned. "They're perfect! Now if only I can turn them into a prize-winning painting, I can die in peace."
    "You'll do it. You always do," he told me. 
    "Thanks." I slowed down a little and we walked on for a minutes, every second getting us closer to my mom's famous lasagna. As I thought about this, I realized his plan.
    "Flattery won't get you anywhere, my dear," I said, bumping his with my shoulder. He grinned. 
    "So can I come for dinner?"
    "Yeah, I guess," I said. Who could refuse him?

    The next day, I answered the phone and heard my mother sobbing on the other end. 
    "Mom! Are you okay?" I thought maybe something horrible had happened to my family. I remember the panic, the constricting of my throat. 
    She calmed enough to assure me that she was okay, but then she carefully broke it to me that Ben had been involved in a car accident and the doctors weren't very hopeful. Nothing I have felt before or since then could have compared to the pain I felt in that moment. 
    Somehow, I made it to the hospital. His mom was waiting for me in the hall outside his room. We went in together, her arm around my shoulders, mine around her waist. 
    He looked so pale, so young. For some strange reason, I couldn't cry. I wanted to. It was expected; I'm a girl, right? We're supposed to be emotional. But I was stone-faced as I carefully lowered myself onto the chair by his bed. I held his hand and waited. In a few minutes, he opened his eyes and grinned weakly. 
    "Save me some lasagna?" he whispered. I had to laugh, but the irony hurt. His smile grew brighter and I realized that he was trying to make this moment a happy one. With that thought came the tears. I tried to make them stop, but they had gone on strike and wouldn't listen to me. 
    Slowly, Ben reached up and wiped them away. 
    "I love you, Sophie," he said. Then the  monitor stopped beeping, and he slipped away. 
    
    "Sophie! Want some pie?" Grandma called from the kitchen. I smiled through my tears, setting my sketchpad and pencil aside.. I always had time for pie.
    

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  • February 13, 2020 - 10:47pm (Now Viewing)

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7 Comments
  • Mary Wall

    I didn't plot this before I wrote it, and I usually don't plot when it's a short story or a snippet that could work as something bigger. I've tried to plot individual scenes, but I never have much luck. There are great resources to check out for help, but I can't seem to see the big picture in a smaller amount of words. :) If you write novels, though, definitely plot!


    7 months ago
  • K-9crazy

    Hey Mary, I was wondering, did you plot this story or free write it?
    I guess I'm trying to ask, is it something that you wrote just for fun out of sudden inspiration, or something you plotted and thought about for a long time?
    Because either way, it's really, really good! I've just been trying to work out whither I should be plotting or not... Sometimes, I really think I should!


    7 months ago
  • K-9crazy

    Oh Mary, that was perfect!


    8 months ago
  • Loser

    Wonderful story, so tragic. I must agree that somehow you made me care about Ben even though I didn't know him too well in the story. Fabulous work.


    8 months ago
  • CrazyNinjaKid

    This is a really beautiful piece! Written so well, nice job!


    8 months ago
  • Mary Wall

    I'm glad you liked it, @Anne Blackwood! :)


    8 months ago
  • Anne Blackwood

    AAAAAAHH HOW DID YOU MAKE ME SO SAD OVER A CHARACTER I LITERALLY JUST MET


    8 months ago