Menu

Menu
Prompts
Contests
Stories
Blog
Directory
Contests
Magazine
FAQ

Write a story with a character or the narrator saying “I remember…”

Posted in Dramatic on Jan 10, 2025

Submissions are closed

Make sure you don't miss our next contest by creating your free Reedsy account.

Sign in with Google
Sign in with Facebook

Or use an email address:

Why not check out our active contest?

✍️ 162 stories

Ava Langley

Submitted to Contest #285

Warning: Mentions of death. I remember when the news of your disappearance broke out in our small town. I stare at the old missing flyer behind the cashier as she rings up groceries. Ava Langley.               Disappearances in our town were like winning the lottery. No one ever thought it would happen in our small community. Surprisingly, considering mostly everyone in town was always over everyone’s business like an overbearing aunt. Statistically it was impossible ...

5 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Keep kicking.

Submitted to Contest #285

I remember lying on the cold, hard gurney of the almost empty emergency room. It was the middle of the night and I was again hooked up to an IV getting a calcium infusion. I’d done this for years. I had thyroid cancer and had my thyroid removed at around age 25. I was one of the unlucky ones that subsequently lost my parathyroid which regulates the absorption of calcium in your body. When they told me I had this condition, I wasn’t particularly alarmed until they explained that a lack of calcium is not just a “got milk” joke.&...

5 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

The Fear of Being is Greater Than the Fear of Death.

Submitted to Contest #285

They say exchanging money for the precious asset of time lubricates the gears of capitalism. I have nothing more to exchange, nothing to take. My time is my own, it is not for sale. Society has no room for a person who does not want to trade their time for paper. I spend my time wisely. I catch fish, forage for fruits and harvest potatoes, truffles and mushrooms. I read books and look at the stars. The ocean sings to me, the warm breeze bring scents from flowers and trees.My sister Sara is four years older and visits me once a month in a lar...

5 likes 5 comments 5
Read story

Flickers of Summer

Submitted to Contest #285

The first time I saw Camilla, she was sitting on the hood of a beat-up car, a cigarette dangling from her lips and a sketchbook balanced on her knees. Her eyes met mine, and it felt like she had already unraveled me. I should’ve walked away then—maybe everything would’ve turned out differently. But instead, I walked toward her.“You always stare at people like that?” she asked, not looking up from her sketch.“Only when they’re sitting on cars that might explode any second,” I shot back.She smirked, closed the sketchbook, and extended her hand...

4 likes 1 comment 1
Read story

Our last goodbye

Submitted to Contest #285

 “I like to think that everything I haven’t experienced will happen anyway, perhaps in a better way. I like to think that I’m going to a world where dreams come true for real, where I truly want to live. That’s why you don’t need to worry. This place will be much better than the reality I’m leaving behind so early. I thank everyone who genuinely loved me. This is our goodbye.  And that’s how a young life drew her last breath, another victim of suicide. The girl was found this Sunday morning on her bed, along with this farewell note...

4 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

TEENAGE ANGST

Submitted to Contest #285

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTAL HEALTH; SUBSTANCE ABUSE;DEATH I remember my teenage years felt like a perpetual foggy day in the Pacific Northwest. Everything coated with a grey tint. The underlying tone of a horror movie that is symbolic and depicting of grief. I don’t think there is anything much scarier than losing someone you love. Come to think of it, I think losing someone I love is my biggest fear.I used to think death itself is what I was most afraid of, but truly it is the seperateness that appears after the end of something. Death is jus...

4 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

The Things We Remember...

Submitted to Contest #285

Authors Note: This story contains themes and mentions of the following: suicide, death, gore/violence, mental health.We all have our regrets. Some we get to change, others we must live with for our whole lives. Some regrets are terrible, unforgivable things. Others aren't bad at all, but they are all regrets for a reason. My regret falls in the former. It is an evil thing, and it haunts me now, 20 years later. And I know it will haunt me to my last breath, Which is undoubtedly soon. well, you want to know what I did? I murdered my daughter. ...

4 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Deceiver

Submitted to Contest #285

I remember the time I saw the face of God. It was after my accident, I was in my car underneath a dozen others, my face fusing with the asphalt road. I  don’t remember the wreck itself as I was knocked out instantly. Yet when I opened my eyes I saw nothing. I sat buckled upside down with the right side of my face in the road for hours. Then I saw him coming down from the hellish storm that raged above. Lightning and fierce winds grew stronger until he came down. It was night and storming but now it was like day. He came descending ...

4 likes 3 comments 3
Read story

Pesky Breathing

Submitted to Contest #285

There was a steel leader attached to the end of the old surf fishing rod, but no hook. I’d forgotten to bring something for bait anyway, so I climbed below to check the junk drawer in the cabin cruiser’s galley for any stray lures. The rhythmic, steady sound of the engines was a bit muffled from the cabin, but a steady ocean breeze coming through partially opened windows would keep you awake. There was a lure in the back of the drawer that was larger than I wanted to use, about five inches or so. It did have a menacing treble hook in the mid...

4 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Write a story with a character or the narrator saying, “I remember…

Submitted to Contest #285

I remember how it all ended. The chasing tail of summer sits on my back as I soak in the afternoon rays by the pool deck. Honeysuckle mingled with pine-oak and grass linger in the air, and I take a lungful of woods in, my copy of Intermezzo balanced on my argan oil-slathered thighs. My promised tan is nowhere in sight. Instead, red blobs etch my white sheet skin, confirming what I’ve always known: I am a winter animal. I sigh just as a fly darts dangerously close to the rim of my lemonade glass. Swatting it away, I turn to observe my husband...

4 likes 2 comments 2
Read story

The Silent Sentinel

Submitted to Contest #285

I remember the first time I killed a man. It wouldn’t be the last. The jungle had not yet surrendered to the approaching morning light. Even an hour before sunrise, the darkness clung to the dense canopy surrounding the village of Phước Vĩnh, casting deep shadows that seemed to merge with the trees. The air was thick with humidity, and each breath was a slow, deliberate act. A low-hanging ground fog accompanied the residual heat of the night. The weight of the night’s silence pressed down on me. My senses were finely tuned, and the stillne...

4 likes 2 comments 2
Read story

The Times of Remembering, The Times of Forgetting

Submitted to Contest #285

  THE TIMES OF REMEMBERING, THE TIMES OF FORGETTING Memories like islands now in the silted waters of his mind. He remembers the times of remembering. The child who could not but remember when there was so much to learn. The sight of the green leaves of summer on a perfect smudgeless blue sky. The sound of grinding metal from the goods railway at the bottom of the road. The smell of soapy sticky tar new pasted on the road. Then the teenager sitting in smoky Kardomah basements forcing a coffee to last two hours. And the young adult ...

4 likes 2 comments 2
Read story

A Good Joke

Submitted to Contest #285

Outside the windows poured a river that fell from the clouds. The brick walls that boxed me in bled a dark damp grey. All I had to do was utter one sentence to revive that frozen ambiance from the day she died. The mom was holding her face. She wasn’t crying yet, but I knew she knew this topic would reopen suppressed wounds. Then there was the dad. His black-yellow thousand-yard scowl locked me in a seat at the table. Fine by me. My sanity depended upon this. If sitting was as far as I could go, I’ll be joining her soon enough as compensatio...

4 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

Death and Memories

Submitted to Contest #285

Death and Memories Beep…beep…beep…So, this is what dying felt like, huh? …Dude, this blows.Zero stars, this is NOT enjoyable. I thought dying was peaceful or at least scary; this is just painful! “Okay, focus!” I forced my barely functioning brain to this, “Who are you? Where are you?” After a moment I can feel my inner voice roll its eyes…somehow- dude I don’t know dying is weird. I don’t remember a thing. “Don’t panic, don’t panic, DON’T PANIC!” My mind screams. Look who’s talking, I am very much not panicking. Am I?Okay, getting off trac...

4 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

The December I Used to Know

Submitted to Contest #285

It’s December again. I hate December. The twinkling and the flashing Christmas lights. They make you dizzy when you stare too long or try to follow the lighting pattern. And the caroling. Don’t get me started on those people. Half of them are just doing it as a December gig. You feel obligated to fork over cash just to shut them up. I don’t feel it anymore—the December spirit. That’s all.It makes me feel lonely. Don’t get me wrong—I used to love December. I remember the whole month feeling exciting when I was young: New Year, Christmas, and ...

4 likes 0 comments 0
Read story

🌟 Similar prompts

Write a story in the form of a landline phone conversation.

Dialogue – 78 stories

Write a story from the POV of a now-defunct piece of technology.

Short Story – 80 stories

Write a story in which someone time-travels 25 years or more into the past.

Short Story – 74 stories

Write a story about people preparing for Y2K.

Dramatic – 30 stories

How to Write a Novel

Join Tom Bromley for a writing master class and finish your first draft in 3 months. Learn more →

How to Write a Novel