Thursday, June 13, 2013

"Runaway" - a short story by Abbey.

Two years ago for my birthday, my friend gave me a book of writing prompts (one for each day of the year) and this past week I've been experimenting with them.... challenging myself to write short stories because I'm not very good at them. I also want to experiment with different genres and writing styles.
Yesterday's prompt was "Afterward, I thought about...." which I changed a tiny bit to fit my story.
Anyway, my mom has convinced me to put it on my blog because she thinks Grama will enjoy it.
So here we go! I hope you enjoy!

Suddenly there he was at the window.
"Oh Pierre!" I said, rushing across the room to take his hands. I nearly knocked him off the vine trellis in the process.
"Angela!" Pierre replied when he regained his balance. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yes!" I grabbed a pillowcase stuffed with a gown or two and maybe a few pairs of shoes... my hairbrush, of course (I have to brush my long brown tresses with something!) and three bars of soap because who knew when I'd next be able to but one.
In my other hand I grabbed my valise. It was stuffed with all my most favorite books. My diary with four pencils lay on top and a coin purse lay on the bottom, filled with a substantial part of my inheritance.
Now Pierre was taking the pillowcase from me - I wouldn't part with the valise for anything. After all, the books it contained had been my only friends for eighteen years!
Pierre helped me down the trellis and 25 perilous feet later we were standing together on the castle grounds, looking around and listening for sounds of pursuit. All was well, so far. Everyone in the castle was fast asleep.
"This way," Pierre whispered, and we took off. As well as my pillowcase, he shouldered a bag filled with his only change of clothes and food for our journey.
We reached the castle wall and to my surprise, a small, hidden door set very low in the barricade led to the outside world. I quivered. Only once before had I been outside these prison walls.
Pierre stooped and opened the door. He ushered me through, and I went.
Outside... breathless beauty. The moon and stars hung, poised, above a golden field of wheat which was swaying in the gentle breeze.
I, Angela, Princess of The Land, was a runaway. I felt like singing for joy.
"Come on!" Pierre grabbed my hand and we ran.
Only after we were outside the protection of the castle did I think about dragons.
And then it was too late.

The end.


  1. Awww! Wonderful! But now I want to know what happens next. (This is why short stories and I don't get along.)

    Yes, you guessed the quote right, so you get a cookie. *Passes one when John isn't looking.*

    Also, you won the giveaway! If you could send me an email with your address I'll get the book ready to mail to you.

  2. Haha, I get the feeling they were eaten by the dragons...Nice story!

  3. Gracious, Abbey! What an ending! But it was good.

    ~Robyn Hoode

  4. The part about the four pencils with the journal reminds me of me. :p
    It twisted differently than I thought it would go. I enjoyed it!
    I have the same problem. My short stories end up novels. lol

  5. Oh, how you can make your mother laugh!
    Love this story sooo much!