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Write a story about a character who is trying to become a better person.

Posted in Middle School on Nov 1, 2022

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✍️ 42 stories

1 year

Submitted to Contest #158

I knew I had zoned out again, but honestly I didn't even really give a shit. I was standing on the railing of the south side bridge. A cigarette slowly burned its way down to my lip and a bottle of scotch sat nuzzled between two of my fingers. I couldn't see much, a deep fog had covered most of the city scape and the night sky made the horizon impenetrable. The cool breeze brushed the back of my neck and brought me back here. I released the pole I had been grasping and took one last pull of the cigarette before holding it out in front, barel...

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Life only begins

Submitted to Contest #158

“Hello, Ma’am,” said Spencer Fine, holding onto his bookbag. “How are you doing today?” The woman was a rather voluptuous lady in her thirties. She was wearing a silk, decorated chemise with a green skirt and comfortable shoes. “Leave me alone,” she said. “Okay,” said Spencer. “I hope you have a nice day.” “Whatever. Shut up.” Spencer was in a quandary he had created for himself. His whole life, he’d been a bully. He’d bullied everyone: his brothers and sisters, his classmates, his friends, strangers. For years they had warned him. One day,...

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Be The Change

Submitted to Contest #158

I stood with a kitchen knife in hand, staring down at the blood pooling below the woman I just stabbed. No feelings, other than disappointment. “Damn it, it wasn’t supposed to be like this! I am trying to be better!” I looked around, trying to find a way to fix this, but no luck. That's when I noticed who I assume was her husband standing in the door.  I could see his body flex, as if he were trying to decide to run or attack. Neither of us moved for a long moment. I heard him quietly repeating his wife's name. His eyes darted back an...

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The Forget the World Cabin

Submitted to Contest #158

Trigger: Death, addiction, suicidal ideation, cursing/languageThe Forget the world cabin. That’s what their grandfather had called it. A small cabin high in the mountains nestled on a ridge that overlooked a deep crevasse. Jude and Harry in their teens had renamed it the Fuck the World cabin in honor of their grandfather. The man had lived off the grid, out of spite. Outfitting the small cabin with solar panels, a generator, and a water collection system, he taught them how to live apart from the modern world. &...

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The Web That Binds Us

Submitted to Contest #158

There’s a comfortability that comes with silence. The way that the background noises come into full focus. Passing cars, squeaky shopping cart wheels, and the gentle chime of bells ringing as shop doors are pushed open; all become the soundtrack of one's own life.  On the right there’s a restaurant that’s been there since the seventies, you can tell by the yellowed menus that they still use. The owner Stan has been there his whole life, right behind that counter. He grew up in this place, opened his restaurant in this place, raised h...

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Climbing Up to the Bottom

Submitted to Contest #158

NOTE: THIS STORY CONTAINS A COUPLE OF MENTIONS OF VIOLENT ACTS.   Pat O’Grady had to do something. He’d worked for too many years and hurdled too many obstacles in getting his bar on Pittston Avenue in Scranton up and running only to lose customers now to some newcomer bar a block away. Paddy’s on Pittston was Pat’s dream come true. He had learned a lot about the beer and liquor wholesale business when he worked for a local distributorship during the six years he wasted his time and money trying to earn a college degree at Pen...

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A Story About Someone Trying To Become A Better Person

Submitted to Contest #158

Here is a story about someone trying to become a better person.  Here is a carnival and a summertime of any year and lights and people and joyful screaming. Look at the sturgeon moon stamped onto the black sky. Now, if you would, walk out of the crowd and into a darker part of the carnival. You can come back later.  After a silent walk along slick, dark grass- yes, I know, a carnival in the dark? You're too bound by habit. Have a little imagination. Anyway. After your walk here is a single booth.  Here is a man in a dark su...

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MY FASHION WITH CARS SINCE I WAS A YOUNG BOY

Submitted to Contest #158

I always wondered what it would be like to drive my own car. I was always interested in mechanics and the way things work. I want to know how to build the engine, the proper daily maintenance, to upgrade the performance of the car and to know every single things about cars. When I was a boy, I used to help in my friend's shop when they're fixing someone else or customer's car. They taught me everything that they knew about cars. I started fixing cars at my young age. I first looked at the engine and everything about it, then I would star...

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I Need to Change - a Lot

Submitted to Contest #158

I used to be a horrible person and not that long ago. I’ve been trying so hard to change. I know it’s only been two weeks that I’ve been trying to mend my ways but it’s very difficult when you haven’t been nice for such a long time. The main reason for me wanting to change is quite simple really. I’m lonely. Horrible people aren’t likeable. I know that first hand because my dad was and is horrible too. That’s why mum left him when I was a kid. “I’m off” she yelled one night. It probably wasn’t any louder than she usually shouted but it had ...

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Waste Not, Want Lemons

Submitted to Contest #158

You’re trying to grow a lemon tree in your kitchen because the world is ending. But you live in Minnesota, and you’re pretty sure your partner thinks you’re crazy for trying to grow a tropical fruit on a kitchen counter in Minnesota. But you’re committed. You’re determined. You’re going to grow a lemon tree. And then, you tell yourself, you won’t feel so bad about consuming lemons because you won’t be consuming lemons from the store; you’ll be consuming lemons that you grew right here at home. And maybe you’ll be so good at growing lemons th...

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Jessie's Story

Submitted to Contest #158

I'm here to tell you a story about a young girl who was so bad no one wanted to be around her. This girl had such a disregard for life that she was incapable of feelings. The things she did was unheard of for a girl. Those around her tried to get her the help she needed, but she refused. This young girl hated everything and everyone including family and friends. She would hurt anyone she came into contact with. She simply didn't care. She went about life without any feelings for herself or the people who cared about her. This young girl'...

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Gargoyle

Submitted to Contest #158

At the base of the house, at the place where the concrete foundation met the lush green lawn, Oliver was crouching like a gargoyle. His shoulders were hunched over, a scowl marred his brows, and if it hadn’t been for that damn awful lighting one would even be able to see the way his fingers were held, the first two digits outstretched, the remainder curled away. The hands themselves were long, elegant.  A piano player's hands.  Oliver had painted the fingernails of those hands sometime in the week because the chipped blotches...

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The Music of Angels

Submitted to Contest #158

Trigger Warning: Contains violent content and domestic abuse. Child abuse is alluded to, as well. He felt the sting in his hand as he watched his knuckles gush red. What hurt the most was the realization that he had screwed up—again. It had been four months since he had punched anything. Darren Holmes, in all his sixteen years, had never tried as hard to accomplish anything as he has to control his temper. He was doing well for a while there. Then, after 5th-period Algebra class, he caught Courtney, his girlfriend of three-and-a-half month...

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Harold Irresistible

Submitted to Contest #158

Warning: Sexual theme (not explicit) and (brief) depictions of nudity. She wants me. The thought that went through Harold's mind as he shared the cramped elevator, surrounded on all sides with mirrors that couldn't hide the woman in the midriff-exposing halter-top that had been kind enough to hold the elevator door for him in the four-star hotel that tried so hard to pretend to be a five-star. No. Ten…eleven…twelve… Fourteen. That was Harold's floor number. But the next floor to light was fifteen, even though he'd hammered the button thric...

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Let There Be Life

Submitted to Contest #158

Jennett screamed as the thin bones in her forearm snapped. The servo-suited mugger had grabbed her too hard in his excitement. With his other hand, he snatched her bag, ripping it painfully from her. Jennett screamed again as he suddenly let go of her broken arm. She hit the cold, wet concrete hard. Protectively, she curled her defenseless little body around her crushed limb, and sobbed as the freezing rain rattled around her. "You're sure this is going to work?" said Jennett to the man standing behind the lab-coated woman that stood smili...

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