To write or not to write

Ugh. Why did I even bother? Again and again had I tried to get him to write, to discover the world of grammar and words. He wrote one story, it was good for his first; I could tell he had potential. Then he gave up. No matter how many times I asked him of he was going to write another, he mumbled that he didn't know and dropped the subject.

I continued writing, haven't stopped in over three months. Not for a single day. My characters had become real to me and I couldn't imagine a day without thinking of them and their stories. I've dreamed about meeting them and wished it was real. How could someone not want to experience the joy of creating and world and developing it?

I sighed and snapped my notebook shut. I was frustrated by my brother's stubbornness, but I had resolved to let him find his own hobby, though my stories were less good without someone beside me, writing with me. I rose from the couch, dropping my notebook behind me. I poured a steaming mug of coffee and watched the wind rustle across the treetops. It was mid-winter and the air was chilly outside, but I left my coffee where it was, donned on my coat and stepped out the door. My brother was swinging his sword about in the cold air. He glanced at me as I left the house. "Are you finally done writing?" He asked. I frowned at him, I may have stopped asking him to write, but I wouldn't allow him to speak so rudely of tale-telling. "And if I'm not?" I challenged. He said nothing and turned away, splitting a tree branch off a nearby tree. "I'm going down the driveway," I told him. "Do you want to come?" He stopped, breathing heavily. "sure." I turned and began in the direction of the driveway.

Before we had even gone fifty meters, my brother said; "wait! Can we stop here for a minute?" I glanced around us, seeing nothing special. "Why?" "you know.." He mimed whacking something with his sword. I sighed. "Fine, but on the way back up." He groaned, but fell in step with me as we continued down the graveled driveway.

"Why do you like writing so much, anyway?" My brother's question startled me out of my thoughts. I thought for a moment before answering. "Because it's like making a world you wish was real come alive on paper." My brother was silent. "I guess I just can't see that." I sighed. "sometimes I wish you could."

We continued in silence, both of our thoughts caught on writing and storytelling. I could tell he felt slightly regretful that he couldn't feel what I felt when writing. I tried to keep my mouth from twisting into a wry grin. Serves him right, I thought. Maybe he'll come around and start writing again.

We stopped at the small bridge across a tiny creek and took turns tossing pebbles into the gurgling water. It was beginning to be dark out, the first stars appeared in the sky. We arrived at the end of the driveway, my brother waited restlessly as I checked the mailbox, pulling out a few bills. As I examined them, a single drop of water burst on the paper, rolling down and leaving a dark line behind it. I frowned and glanced up at the sky. Another raindrop dripped on my cheek and slid off my skin like a tear.

I glanced at my brother, who noticed it had begun to rain, but didn't seem to care. "let's head back." I said. We hurried, but it rained harder with each step, soaking us through. We both shivered. "Shouldn't we be near the top of the driveway now?" My brother shouted over the pounding rain that turned the driveway into a river. I didn't respond, but glanced around us. Spotting the pine forest my brother had pointed out earlier, I grabbed my brother's wrist and pulled him under the shelter of the thick trees.

"we'll be a little more dry under here, we can wait a few minutes until the rain slows." My brother nodded, seeming happy in spite of the fact that rain fell in sheets only feet away from us, and occasionally dripped on our heads. I leaned against the bole of a tree and watched as he began lopping branches from the trees surrounding him. I wrapped my wet coat around myself, shivering enough to make my body ache. I stood and began to jump up and down, knowing being cold and sitting still was never a good idea. My brother seemed perfectly fine as he worked up a sweat cracking branches from their supports.

I sighed and glanced out into the rain, which still pounded the ground and battered anything in it's way.

My brother stopped kicking a dead stump and glanced at me. "Do you want to explore the woods while we're waiting?" I frowned. "I guess." I said, a little uncertainly. It was better than waiting, shivering and staring at the rain.

We pushed into the foliage to out right, thorns catching our jeans and sleeves. My brother lead the way, whacking anything in his way. I rolled my eyes as I followed close on his heels.

Before we knew it, we had traveled almost half a mile from the dense pine forest and unbeknownst to us, when we passed over a small stream, we entered onto someone else's property.

We became focused on pushing through the forest, forgetting the fact that we were supposed to be getting home, nor did we pay attention to the fact that the sky grew increasingly darker and more stars appeared. The sun slowly sank behind the unseen mountain range in the distance and night fell.

When our vision was lowered to a minimum, we realized how dark it was and began to fear we head lost our way. "We didn't even go very far!" My brother protested when I pointed out that we were lost. "apparently, we did." I said dryly as I studied our surroundings in search of something familiar. Then my eye fell on something. Something unusual and unnatural. I craned my neck to see what it was. It was in front of us, about ten meters away. "Wait," I said, grabbing my brother's wrist. "I see something."

My brother looked wary as I pulled him towards the object in the distance. As we neared it, I realized it was a door. And only a door. It was entirely black, save for the golden doorknob. "Why is this here?" I said to no one in particular. My brother started to answer, but I stopped him with a stony stare. "that was rhetorical." I said with hint of amusement in my voice despite our dire situation.

I touched the doorknob. It was cold and wet. That was no surprise. I pushed open the door on surprisingly well oiled hinges. We both expected to find more sodden woods and black skies, but rays of light streamed from the crack in the door. Fingers wrapped around the edge of the door and hands pulled us in, cutting off our surprised cries. Then the door shut, cutting off the rays of light.