My Story

The light from the computer screen reflected off my face in the dark room. The brightness stung my eyes but I didn’t notice. My attention was focused on the screen, where I had just submitted a story for reedsyprompts. Contest #45: A Time For Action, was the first writing contest I had ever competed in, along with the first story I had ever genuinely written. “Write a story about change” was the prompt I had chosen to challenge. And challenge it I did. I spent hours upon hours developing the story and making sure there were no grammar mistakes. I revised the story multiple times, whether it be because a certain part didn’t fit in, or I thought the dialogue was cringy. I continuously added more diction to where I thought it was lacking and agonized over the difficulty of choosing a title. It was definitely an experience and I looked forward to the next one.

“Tenjing!” I heard my father shout from the living room.

I shuddered, what time was it? I had been so engrossed in finishing the story that time had become irrelevant to me. I glanced at the time on the screen. 1:30 AM. I cursed in my head.

“Get to sleep already its late”

“Yeah I will, I was just finishing up something” I shouted back.

I sighed and turned to my computer. The story I wrote was still on screen. The first story I had ever written. My story. I had read through it so many times I practically knew it word by word. I shut off my computer and turned off the light after I had brushed my teeth. I snuck into bed and wrapped myself in the blanket. My eyes closed and I drifted to sleep….is what I wanted but my brain wouldn’t let me. My body was thoroughly exhausted and desperately pleaded with me to rest, but my brain was hardwired on the story I had just submitted.

Is the story really any good?

Does a high school novice writer like myself even have a chance at winning the contest?

Will people like my story?

Was it intelligent sounding enough?

These questions plagued my mind as I desperately tried to catch some sleep. I can’t say for sure but it felt like hours before my consciousness finally drifted off.

My eyes slowly opened and the light seared my eyes. Someone had opened the curtain while I was asleep, probably my dad. I groggily reached for my phone to check the time. 1:17 PM. I couldn’t believe that I had slept for so long and even then my body urged me to go back to sleep. I unwillingly shook off these feelings since I had school projects I needed to finish that had been piling up since I never started them. I left my comfy bed as my body cried for me to stop.

After having brunch I started up my computer to work on my school projects. Ok! I told myself internally. The projects are due in two days so I’ll binge them today and slack off tomorrow. With my mind set, I focused my gaze onto the computer screen and was paralyzed by the sight that presented itself. The story I wrote stared back at me and immediately my promise from a few seconds ago was shattered. My attention was torn away from the school projects and had been rewired onto the story. I knew I had a task to finish but I couldn’t bring myself to peel my eyes away. The daunting thoughts of earlier consumed me and so I gave into my desires and reread the story multiple times to make myself feel better. It was beneficial though, as I did find a number of mistakes the sleep deprived me didn’t. I edited my story to remove the mistakes but I still had this nagging feeling of unfulfillment. I yearned for feedback and while my friend Chris did help tremendously by reading my story, his feedback just wasn’t enough to quench my hunger. After pondering for minutes, I decided to contact my AP English teacher to ask for her guidance.

“If you have time can you read this short story I wrote based on the prompt "write a story about change". It's for a contest and I want you to read it over and tell me what you think if you can.” I type. 

I impatiently wait for a response. Time seems to slow down as I do nothing but stare at the screen. It’s so quiet that I can hear my own heart beat. Buh-bum Buh-bum.

Ding

About an hour later, I received a notification of a gmail message from my English teacher. Excitedly, I checked to see what kinds of wondrous feedback awaited me….only to see:

“Sure! Give me a little time. The opening is already very engaging!!”

Nothing but disappointment could be the emotion that described what I had felt after reading the message. It's like a writer's version of when you ask a girl out and she hits you with the “why don’t we just be friends?” However, I was still hopeful. All I had to do was wait and my question would be answered.

Just a little longer. Was what I thought and so I wasted the entire day only to never get a response. I was in denial as I waited for a message that would never be sent. Eventually, I knew it was time to give up when I saw that the sky had turned dark. My hopes had been crushed but I understood that she was busy. She had multiple classes to tend to and two of them were college classes. I headed to bed without anything being accomplished and fell asleep.

The next day I pushed my urges to think about the story to the back of my head and actually focused on finishing the projects. Through pure willpower and determination, I forced my way through the work. Finally, at 9:30 PM, I stretched in victory as I finally finished all my work that was due the next day. With the primary task finished, I could no longer suppress the urges to check my story. The contest had ended so stories were beginning to be approved but mine wasn’t so I decided to check some of them out. Only to be utterly blown away by their beautiful diction and creative stories. I could only read in shock as I believed that these stories were levels above my own. While I did think my story excelled in some parts, these other stories excelled in everything else. My pride began to shrink as I was faced with the reality that I was not as great a writer as I had thought myself to be. However, I did not give up and went back to revise the story a bit to enhance the diction. After revising the story I felt that it was now satisfactory and I finally put the story to rest. It’s done and I’m proud of how it came out, I thought to myself. So with that story completed, I turned my attention to the next competition, competition #46: Write It Down. Out of the five prompts presented, one caught my eye: Write a story about someone who has just finished writing their first story/book.

How ironic.