A Short Story : Fame, And Failure

I stand and stare in disbelief as the car’s bonnet is crumpled into the bulky metal pole on the side of the road. My limbs are numb and I am drenched from head to toe. The glistening droplets continuously drip off the tip of my nose as I realize how much trouble I’m going to get into. The wind wails around me as if it’s saying “you’re going to be in so much trouble”. I suddenly get back into the car and attempt to reverse the car so no one will see the car rammed into the power pole. Mum and Dad's pristine new car. Scratched. Dented. Ruined.

I felt ecstatic to participate in our team tradition to hold hands as we salute. She congratulated me and held out her hand. I clutched her hand, even though my hands were shaking and sweating. The announcer asked us to salute, and we raised both of our hands, still locked together, as my team did before. I stepped down from the podium, still shaking, and all of my teammates congratulated me. I thanked them and sat down. I heard my name called once more; as a result, I looked up excitedly. Instead of a medal, I received a small purple bag addressed to me. I opened it and noticed a small stuff animal. I took it out and read the tag. It read: We knew you could do it! Love, Mom, Dad and Mason. I smiled. Immediately following, the announcer called our team, Silvia’s Gymnastics, for a first place team award! Our entire team jumped up onto the podium and took our trophy. Our coach congratulated us and pulled me aside to personally tell me how proud she felt about my accomplishment. I thanked her and joined my parents on the bleachers. They congratulated me and we drove home. When we arrived, my family all sat down together and ate ice cream cones as we discussed my competition. Before this day, I felt frustrated with the sport; pessimism overtook my psyche. Then, however, joyfulness filled my heart, and everything around me became so positive and cheerful. I

Verin watched a group of young soldiers grapple behind the mess tent. He split his time between checking on Fynta and offering pointers when one of the guys showed bad form. So far, comms were still offline to the group that had entered the temple, but Verin didn’t worry. Fynta was impossible to kill, and he had little stake in the others. Granted, he rather liked the Togruta. She’d fought well on Tython.

One time I had to overcome adversity is when I had an AP bio test. This was the third or fourth big test we had taken in the class and the last test before the second quarter began. The week before the test I procrastinated studying until the very last night. The night before the test I knew I had to buckle down and study for at least a couple of hours.

I stood with the seniors of our band and color guard. The MC began to announce the winners of our division for the Sweepstakes category. As the assistant trumpet section leader, I closed my eyes, looked down, and listened closely. Second place had been announced and Leilehua High School still had not been called. A sense of terror then struck me; either we won first place or we didn’t place at all. My heart began pounding hard and fast. As the anxiety in me was reaching a breaking point, the MC announced

From birth we are conditioned to strive for success. We hear stories of people who turned themselves into Wall Street wonders or self made millionaires. My story proves the road from riches to rags is just as, if not more so, character-changing than the one from rags to riches. My father was one of these “success” stories. He was fascinated by the idea of rags to riches ever since he was kid. This became the drive of his life that would foretell my family’s future. My sister and I were the youngest with two older brothers, so by this time my father had achieved his dream: a big house, a successful career as a doctor, and money was never an issue. Around the year 2000, my father developed tremors. Being an ER physician, this deemed him incapable to work. It was not long before the stress to maintain a luxurious lifestyle got the best of him. The following years would consist of periodic house visits from the local authorities. These were due to my father's alcoholism and outrageous parental arguments.

It was 6:25 AM and I was beginning to wake up. I was on my top bunk of our bunk bed and I said to myself I feel like doing something to get me in trouble. I crawled out of my sheets trying not to hit my head on the ceiling fan. I jumped off the stairs of the bunk bed onto the old wooden floor. On impact I heard my sister say i’m hungry from her little princess bed. My sister Izzy and I walked in to the kitten for a meal. She got a tortilla, cold hotdog, and a dill pickle. I went for a peanut and butter jelly sandwich. After breakfast, I went outside to feed the 4 dogs we had. But be for I did I got my sandals. I opened the back door leading to the fresh morning air. I hoped down from the cement stairs onto the cold moist grass. With every step

The short story, Working for Greatness, is about a boy who worked hard for everything he ever had in his life. As a little kid, he would shovel snow in the winter and cut grass during the spring for some cash. Over the years as he grew, he studied a lot for school simply to graduate with a piece of paper, all while working hardily at his local grocery store. Fast-track to the end and he retires at the age of 50 without a worry in his mind.

I nodded my head deftly as he held me in his arms. He only needed one as I sat there in his grip. I almost felt like a child being held like that, sitting on his arm.

One minute before the alarm rang I was up and full of energy. Waking up that morning was not hard, the nerves built very rapidly and could not be subdued. The day had finally come the one that I had prepared the whole season for; regional tournament day, which is just the first milestone of the State tournament, where the best of the best were. Always over confident as I am I consider myself as equals to the best, I had a career record of 120 wins and 50 loses. But that doesn’t matter when it comes to getting to the State tournament because one loose at the wrong time can end your whole season, and in my case my career, because I was a senior, which adds even more stress. After I shut my alarm off I got dressed in my sweats and made my lunch

He was tired. So very tired. His hands shook as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Eyes, once vibrant in their innocence, had dulled to a flat brown.

As expected, when Tom opened his locker the following morning, he found a note from Tyrell. Typed on a ripped piece of paper, the instructions were clear yet concise.

I listened to my tennis-shoe-clad feet hitting the track. Smack! Smack! “C’mon Brody! My coach shouted. “finish strong!” I was on my last interval and I knew my legs were shaking. We had probably run ten miles today and my body knew it. But when I run long distances, I just repeat this mantra my coach had told me and the team. We chanted it before every meet. “One step, one stride, one lap at a time” I finished my last lap, and sat down and pulled off my shoes. I had had a great day at school. I got this test back, and I aced it. My friends had been funny, the teachers had been nice, and I had almost gotten a new personal record in track. I was walking home with my best friend Margo. She was my neighbor, almost-sister, and I had known her since I was two. When I turned the corner onto my block and saw my dad on the porch, I knew it was going to be a long night. He already had a beer in his hand, and it definitely wouldn’t be his last before the night was up. “Hey Kat! ” he slurred, struggling to enunciate his words. I ignored him and walked up to my bedroom. I needed to do my homework, eat a big dinner, and then go to bed. It was the big quarter-final meet tomorrow and I needed to be on my best game. I had run five miles that day in track and I was pooped.

As a young girl, I recall hastily packing my trunk with clothes, well-loved toys and storybooks as we prepared to move out of our run down apartment. “Come along girls,” my father said to my sister and I, “Light has shined upon us. Today shall be the start of our new lives.”

Bucky had begun his fifth circuit of their tiny living room when he heard the tell-tale thump of the busted step leading to their floor: the board was near-rotted underneath the worn carpet and always slid out a bit and back in each time you stepped on it.