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#1 2012-02-16 06:41:42

Blackdog100
Scratcher
Registered: 2009-06-17
Posts: 1000+

A Sad, Sad Story

It's called "I Remember". I am pretty terrible at coming up with titles for stories and poems.  Feel free to suggest another name.  It is very sad, but enjoy.  smile

I Remember

Bracing myself, I carefully slipped the lid of the white container. I emptied it of its contents, for there were not many tablets remaining. One by one, I swallowed them along with a drink of water. Each one that remained felt heavy in my clenched fist. A tear trickled down my cheek as I swallowed the last few. I lay back on my bed, closing my eyes. 
    "Goodbye," I whispered. 
                          ****
The memory appeared vivid behind my closed eyelids.  Me, alone, crouched in a corner, a book in my lap, although I did not appear to be reading it. Instead, my gaze seemed to be fixed on an approaching gang of boys. Even though this was only my own memory unfolding on front of me, I still trembled.
    They had reached me by now.  I could hear them make jeering remarks, and watched as they hit me across my face. One reached out and grabbed my book.  He paused, looking at the cover, before laughing and tearing it apart. Another bully kicked me. 
    I knew what was going to happen next. I watched as I clenched my fist and hit him back. I could hear the group jeer at me more. One boy stepped forward and swung his fist at my face, hitting my nose. Blood started trickling from my nose. I turned around and ran away, the gang of boys calling snide comments after me.
    The memory faded away, and for a few moments I could only see blinding white light.  Another memory faded into view. 
    Yet again I was on my own, although this time I was in my own bedroom. It had plain lilac walls and was empty besides a bed and a small chest of drawers. 
   I was staring at my phone, which suddenly lit up. A text message. I watched as I opened it. The words "ur a loser evry1 h8s u we wish u wer ded" appeared on the screen. I could see tears form in my eyes, and looked on as I turned away, sobbing. 
    The memory vanished, replaced by the white light. A new memory gradually appeared. 
    This time I wasn't alone. I was with my mother. She was talking to me. Suddenly I burst into tears, then spoke shakily. 
    "She's... Dead?" I watched as my mother nodded slowly. I covered my face with my hands, trembling. I shook my head slowly, my shoulders shaking. I was crying hard. 
    I barely noticed transition between the last memory and the next.  Before I knew it, I was staring at myself on my own yet again. For once, I was smiling. I was thoroughly reading a letter that I held in my hand.  Occasionally I giggled. 
    I had almost forgotten there was a time I was happy. I had been depressed for so long, the thought of happiness seemed impossible and too far-fetched. 
    As quick as it had appeared, the memory faded into nothing. The cheerful feeling was replaced with dread. 
    I was with another girl my age. Both of us were about eight years old.  She had ginger curly hair, unlike my wavy brown hair. We both seemed distressed.  She was talking to me. I could just about hear what she was saying. 
   "My dad wants to move to another town. He says he won't ever get work here. My mam said I could play with you for one more day because we are moving tomorrow."
    I blinked, slowly remembering everything. Eventually the memory disappeared, fading into another one. 
    I was with the girl again, but this time we were laughing and playing together. We were around six or seven and acted so care-free. 
    I could feel myself starting to cry, but with joy. I was looking back into my past, when I was happy and still enjoying life. 
    After a while we stopped playing and sat down on the grass. 
    The ginger haired girl spoke first. "You're my best friend forever.  Am I your best friend?"
    "Yes," I replied, grinning. 
    I blinked, and when I opened my eyes the memory had disappeared from view. 
    "You do remember me?"
    I turned around. The girl stood before me, about eleven years old. 
    "Yes, I remember you," I replied, smiling gradually. "And I remember what happiness means now."
    We smiled at each other. 

~The End~


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#2 2012-02-16 08:34:01

RedRocker227
Scratcher
Registered: 2011-10-26
Posts: 1000+

Re: A Sad, Sad Story

That's sad, but awesome nonetheless c:


Why

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#3 2012-02-16 08:39:30

TRocket
Scratcher
Registered: 2009-08-18
Posts: 1000+

Re: A Sad, Sad Story

RedRocker227 wrote:

That's sad, but awesome nonetheless c:


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#4 2012-02-16 08:47:34

Blackdog100
Scratcher
Registered: 2009-06-17
Posts: 1000+

Re: A Sad, Sad Story

TRocket wrote:

RedRocker227 wrote:

That's sad, but awesome nonetheless c:

Thanks, both of you :3


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#5 2012-02-16 13:33:41

Lellowsfuzz
Scratcher
Registered: 2009-04-17
Posts: 500+

Re: A Sad, Sad Story

Wait, what were the pills?

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#6 2012-02-16 13:47:52

Blackdog100
Scratcher
Registered: 2009-06-17
Posts: 1000+

Re: A Sad, Sad Story

Lellowsfuzz wrote:

Wait, what were the pills?

Sleeping pills. Drat I forgot that D:


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#7 2012-02-16 14:05:32

undefeatedgames
Scratcher
Registered: 2011-05-22
Posts: 1000+

Re: A Sad, Sad Story

So wait the narrator dies? I skimmed through it  sad


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#8 2012-02-16 14:06:30

CheeseMunchy
Scratcher
Registered: 2008-10-13
Posts: 1000+

Re: A Sad, Sad Story

So you're back?


6418,

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#9 2012-02-16 14:08:13

RedRocker227
Scratcher
Registered: 2011-10-26
Posts: 1000+

Re: A Sad, Sad Story

CheeseMunchy wrote:

So you're back?

I wasn't aware that she'd quit ._.


Why

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#10 2012-02-16 16:42:27

Lightnin
Scratch Team
Registered: 2008-11-03
Posts: 1000+

Re: A Sad, Sad Story

While this story is really well written, it's a bit too intense / mature for Scratch, so we're going to close this topic.

I actually think it can be good for older kids to explore intense themes like these in stories. Suicide happens in the real world, and one of the ways to try to understand and come to grips with that kind of pain and loss is to write stories like this one. But what makes this too intense for Scratch is the fact that Scratch is for kids 8 and up. I could imagine sitting with an 8 year old while they read a story like this, and answering questions that came up, and just generally being there for them to help them sort it out. But if an 8 year old reads this on Scratch, there's no guarantee that there's someone for them to talk to about it (or that they will talk to someone about, even if someone is available). So to me, this is too intense to leave that kind of thing to chance.

Anyway, I know you checked in with P2S before sharing this - and thanks for that. But after reading it, we agreed that it's a bit much, so we're closing. In the future, please don't share stories that are this intense on Scratch.


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