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Saturday, January 4, 2014

Creative Writing Prompt #3 (And Some Housekeeping)

Hi everyone! M. here with a new story!

(By the way, I love this site. It's where I get most of my writing prompts, including the one for today. You should check it out. Seriously. Right now. Like, stop reading this and click on the link already!) ;)

For those of you who didn't obey that last sentence (you know who you are!!) here's the prompt for today's story. (Sorry in advance for the length. I find it difficult to be concise sometimes.)

#784
five-dollar island



Writing Prompt #3 - Tell this story: There it was, finally. Our island. Our very own island. It looked beautiful above the waves of fog, but there was still one question to be answered: why had [he] sold it to us for only five dollars?

I'm still not really sure why we bought it, either. Tim and I had been married for two years now and looking for a place to settle down. He was a physician who had just finished his PhD, and I had received my degree in psychology. When the young agent met with us in Los Angeles, we had almost settled for a flat that would have put us severely in debt and left us dissatisfied.  He promised that he had a deal for us that we couldn't resist.


Tim was suspicious, but the man seemed honest enough. He showed us pictures of a house, beachfront property. It looked like heaven to me. As he pulled some other pictures out of his bag we realized that the house was, in fact, on a private island. I shook my head, knowing immediately that there was no way we could pay for a house that extravagant, but the agent quietly offered the property for five dollars.

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"We're going to land soon, Claire." Tim walked up to the rail beside me as his voice cut through through my distracting thoughts. His eyes were longing to explore the island, to set foot on our own little paradise. To actually have our own island; the words sounded so foreign in my mind. We had been at sea for the past 6 or 7 hours, and the sun had set a while ago. The stars were beginning to peek out at us from the world's ceiling.

I noticed a small house on the far left, near the sandy, beachy-looking side. The main amount of the land was rocky or covered with forest greenery. Tim sighed impatiently and walked back to the wheel of the boat. "We'll finally be there; we're only few minutes away!" He informed me. I slowly faded back into the memories of the past two months.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

My jaw had dropped as my ears had tried to reprogram what I had just heard. Five dollars for an island? Ridiculous. Impossible. "Why on earth would you sell us an island for five bucks what someone else would pay millions for?" Tim demanded.

The agent put both palms outward. "No questions. Five dollars and the island is yours." He pulled a contract out; everything looked legal. "Hope you both enjoy it!" The agent shook our hands and was gone, leaving his half-finished coffee, a copy of the contract, and a slip of paper containing the address of, now, our island.

It was all a blur after that. We packed the few belongings we owned, bought a used boat that could take us to the island, and tied up our loose ends within five weeks. Tim was ecstatic, as was I, but a question had begun to bother me. Why did that agent want to sell us this island?

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

The sand glistened in the moonlight as we walked hand in hand. I shivered, noting that the temperature had dropped considerably in the past two hours. The house stood just across the beach from us, almost seeming to be out of place where it was set. The vegetation on this side of the island was simply charming, with several types that were foreign to me. "Where exactly are we?" I wondered aloud, breaking the sweet silence that wasn't dared to be otherwise interrupted except by the softly whistling breeze. 

"I believe we're about  400 miles east of San Francisco." Tim replied. We had reached the house by now, and were standing in front of it.  "Ready?" He asked me. I nodded.

Tim stepped onto the porch with me, pushing the door open. It creaked loudly with protest. But why did he sell all of this for five dollars? The question now refused to leave my mind. I flipped the light switch on, trying to push back the waves of fear that began to creep over me. Everything so far that had happened to us had the trademark feeling of a horror story. A deal that was too good to be true. An abandoned house in a remote area. The two of us together in an unfamiliar place.

It was then I saw the picture on the wall. A young and elegant woman, with intense hazel eyes and chestnut hair stared back at me. The rest of the room was entirely empty. No furniture, no rug on the floor. Just that picture. I flinched, keeping close to Tim. His brow was creased as we walked through the rest of the house. Other than a solitary bed in one of the rooms, the entire building was empty.

Tim and I quickly moved back to the front room, where I began to pace. Why did that man sell us this island for five dollars? What does this picture mean? Who is this lady? The waves of fear crashed over, and I became irrevocably certain that someone wanted to at the very least, terrify us, but likely worse. So many questions.

Tim slowly pulled the picture off of the wall and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. I snatched it with slightly trembling hands and began to read aloud. If you've found this note, good for you. I am the agent who likely sold you this island. This portrait is of my sister, Anastasia. She disappeared from this island, which she owned. The authorities believe she is dead, and I was the heir to this home given in her will. I can't bear to keep it. Feel free to do what you like with it. If you ever happen to find my sister, I would be indebted to you. I wish I could assure you that this island is safe, but I am not certain. Thank you and the best of luck to you. (any information on Ana, call 415-395-5486) 

The paper fell to the floor. The first question was now solved, and my fears were unfounded, but with this answer came new questions and new fears. I looked at Tim and he nodded. "We need to find her." He stated.


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That was the day we unknowingly decided to become detectives, and the beginning of our first of many cases. His medical background and my degree in psychology made us a fairly decent team and gained us a reputation, along with a few enemies. I could tell you the rest of Anastasia's story, but I believe I'll save it for another time. It is a quite a tale, and one worth listening to.


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Hope you liked it! I may or may not continue the story, a good plot line seems to be eluding me at the moment, and this prompt is long enough as it is. E. told me she is planning to join me with these writing prompts, so look forward to those in the future! :)

I've noticed that I haven't necessarily kept this blog to the original idea of the "simplex" but I am planning to, for lack of a better word, try to organize or plan better what I'll be posting. Then again, I may leave it the way it is. Random is pretty easy for me!

In other news, I got my senior pictures done recently! I am also starting school again next week, so I will probably end up posting a lot less than I intend to. I'm super excited to see what this upcoming year will bring. See you next time!

-M.

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