“END OF A STORY” COMPETITION

First Place

She sat, staring straight forward. Her back rigid and lips pursed, she reminisced over the days when she was able to laugh and move freely. Her breath quivered and she closed her eyes. With a whoosh and a hush, she fell forward limply and gave in to her mind’s enduring battle.

– Lulu Diffenbaugh

RUNNER-UP

I walked all the way to the end of the bridge and stared out over the shimmering water for what might be my last time ever; I tried to recall everything that had happened that summer. I remembered the feeling of the warm, cozy campfire on my face and the goosebumps that appeared on my arms when I dove into the freezing lake. I stopped when I noticed my eyes had started to tear up. This summer hadn’t gone exactly as I had planned, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

– Avery Wilson

The mountain of water rose over my head. Silence enveloped me. Then the crash of the wave, first the sound and then the wall of water, hit me. The world darkened and became peaceful. All I heard were muffled screams as I sank.

– Nate George

It was quiet, calm, peaceful almost, just like it was before. But now, the deed was done, the graves were filled. Vengeance was mine with little cost but one to me. Now it will stop, that suffocating weight in my chest, crushing the life out of my heart.

– Sally King

I zoomed away from the expanding mass of flames behind me, my heart pounding for the fate I had barely escaped. I zoomed away from my lifelong home, my family, the blue planet I had sworn to protect. That prophet must’ve felt like such a fool, picking a coward like me to protect us. Now, I was fleeing while my failure surrounded me like the darkness of space.

– Vincent Chen

It was hot. The dry heat had created a thin layer of sweat on her brow bone. She pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose as she leisurely walked away. She spit on the hot pavement in the parking lot of the motel as the building behind her burst open with flame.

– Courtney Young

After all that I had gone through, my journey was far from over. Standing with one foot on the boat and the other on shore, I looked back one last time, seeing the lights of my familiar city in the darkness. I took a deep breath, breathing in the air one last time, and pushed the boat away from the shore, into the wild blue sea.

– Rosalie Wessels

His heart pounded in his head as he looked across the crowd, the rushing sound of his own blood deafening as he kneeled on the high platform looking out across the sea of people. They roared to see blood spill across the pavement; they roared to see his blood coat the stone ground; he would find no sympathy in them. He turned to his left to face his executioner and then did something that surprised them both: he smiled coldly and then placed his head upon the block.

– Makenna Wolcott

The moonbeams flickered across my face while the blood began to dry. I gazed across the valley where my town lay peacefully. No one will be safe, not anymore.

– Tyler Riches

And I stood in front of the place I had so long looked for. I stared in, each creaky, broken step a battle to climb, each hanging spider web a maze to the door. I noted no welcome mat outside; not even a pattern in the dust to indicate there ever was one. So, I turned around, walking away, telling myself that if I was not welcome here, I wasn’t welcome anywhere.

– Natasha Kumaraswami

For a split second, on the other side of the busy street, I thought I saw Emily, with her blood-coat and her bright yellow boots. She was smiling back like she used to before it all happened. Her eyes were still innocent, still untouched by the tragedy that occurred.

– Megan Chou

Kira cried, harder than she’d ever cried before. Her limp, shaking body drained everything from her, every single feeling she’d ever had, every memory of sadness and every memory of joy. The tears washed her away until she felt as if there was nothing left. From that moment on, she knew, deep in her soul, that it was over.

– Mia Gustavson

My breath suspended in my chest, I stood, paralyzed, watching the eggshell-white tarp over the sea slide away by the wind. The keys suctioned limply to my hand, regret poured through me. Instead of a sea there was simply a vast, limitless vat of sand, filled with hourglasses containing severed limbs. I looked back at the painting in my hand. Looked back at the scene. With trembling fingers, I struck the match, closed my eyes, and hurled it as far as I could.

– Sarah Feng

The soft gleaming glow was so close, yet I couldn’t quite reach what I desired so badly; minutes felt like hours, trying to reach what I couldn’t grasp. I slowly, carefully moved my hand towards it as the warm glowing light reflected off my pale cool hands. Centimeters away, my hand was so close to touching the rutilant glimmer. As my hand went in, the world went black.

– Skylar Chui

First Place

By Prithi Srinivasan

There was no turning back. He roughly slammed the door against its frame. With heavy, ruddy fingers, he punched in the fateful numbers. Six. Zero. From behind the door he could hear an almost frightened hiss, but he turned away. Fifty-Five. The man turned back to the door. The hissing was growing even more insistent, somehow straining above the mechanized whirring. Fifty. It was getting closer and closer. His mind filled with an almost primal craze as the hissing and whirring continued. Forty-Five. He found himself pacing, gnawing his fingers in anticipation. His hands roamed for whatever he could reach, anything to distract him. Forty. It wouldn’t move any faster. He rushed out of the room, hoping, praying, that it would be over. Thirty. He had made it to the final stretch. Running back in, he seated himself directly across from the blinking digits. Twenty. A grin overtook his face. Ten. The hissing was subsiding, as if whatever had been causing it was sputtering, dying. Five. His fingers itched to reach for the handle once more. Four. To see what he had done. Three. The whirring continued inexorably. Two. He peered through the glass of the door. One. It had worked. Zero. The telltale beep sounded through the room on repeat. He finally opened the door. Reaching in, he surveyed his work, pulling his soup out of the microwave.