Re: Fanfiction Club
Posted: Sat Nov 25, 2017 12:59 am
Okay I am working on my Christmas one. Nice TheDoctor I love it a lot!
A Gathering Place for Adventures in Odyssey Fans Everywhere
Thanks Katie!Katie10 wrote:Okay I am working on my Christmas one. Nice TheDoctor I love it a lot!
Jo March wrote:OMG!!! This is soo good!!!!!
Of course we both know that she means "OHMYGOODNESS!!!"TheDoctor wrote:Language!Jo March wrote:OMG!!! This is soo good!!!!!
I'll take it as a complement anyway.Scientific Guy wrote:Of course we both know that she means "OHMYGOODNESS!!!"TheDoctor wrote:Language!Jo March wrote:OMG!!! This is soo good!!!!!
Kungfunaomi wrote:Finished yours up yet, Luke?
Scientific Guy wrote:Of course we both know that she means "OHMYGOODNESS!!!"TheDoctor wrote:Language!Jo March wrote:OMG!!! This is soo good!!!!!
Nah girl, you good. I'm excited, though!Jo March wrote:And guys, I'm working on it, I promise. It's going well, I'm almost done.
I like your sad storys. This one has a nice touch!PennyBassett wrote:Okay here's mine! (Sorry it's kinda sad...though, what would you expect from me? )
Snow fell to Odyssey grass, and stuck to icy Odyssey windows. It hadn’t been snowing long, but green was already almost extinct from my window landscape. I brought my knees up to my chest, suddenly feeling a dull ache in my heart. I blinked dazedly as I recalled school that day. It had been my last day before holiday break. The day where each class played Christmas music, and despite our age, every student in art class had been forced to create some sort of Christmas, or holiday related end of semester piece. I had painted a girl with ice-like hair and eyes. She wore a sad expression as she looked at something in the distance. A tear was frozen to her cheek. Then Mrs. Meek had come over to my desk and called me “Scrooge.” I guess because most people did pretty pictures of warm fires or cosy mittens, while my picture looked much less cheery. What had they expected? Or do my teachers even know? Do they I spent the summer in JD? Do they know my father is still in prison, and will be for another nine years? Huh. Nine years. Just in time for me to graduate college. Did they know about my mom? Did they know about all the times she’s tried to have another baby? Just to end up more broken than the time prior? Four babies. Four siblings I never got to meet. One was born alive. Gloria was her name. She was never healthy though. The doctors hadn’t given her much time. She had died three months after she was born. That was December of 2012.
“She would have been five by now,” I muttered, knowing Mom would hear me.
“Did you get the mail today?”
“Anything from dad?”
“On the counter.”
I walked over to the kitchen counter and unfolded the letter we got monthly. He talked about how sorry he was. He was always sorry. He always made promises. The words blurred together on the page. I was so sick of it. Sick of all of it. Sick of the rejection. Sick of being suddenly poor. Sick of the happiness that I had to watch every day. Sick of Christmas. I pushed a tear away with the back of my hand. Was I really crying? How dumb. As my vision went a little clearer, I noticed another envelope on the counter.
“Mom? What’s this?” I asked, holding up the unexpected delivery.
“Oh. I read that. It’s from that church. Odyssey… Community Church?”
“What’s it for?”
“Well… it’s a little- help- “
“Wh- a charity?! Did you give our information to someone?!”
“Just some people at the church. They’re nice people. They want to help us.”
“No, they don’t! How many times do I have to tell you? They don’t want to help us, they want to feel good about themselves. Helping the poor family who’s daddy’s in jail. That’s it.”
“But they can help us enjoy Christmas.”
“By helping us with food, and presents. They’re even preparing a Christmas dinner. It sounds wonderful.”
I didn’t say anything. If anyone found out…
“Vance?” I looked her in the eyes. Tears hung in them. “Please. For me.” My heart’s aching intensified. I sat down and took her hand, and whispered a soft, “Okay.” As her head rested on my shoulder.
this is awesome I have read it over and over. All of this are awesome! My story umm let's say its in a very long umm well I don't even have a idea or the time right now sorry guys. But you guys rock!GJFH wrote:Here is my entry, I spent far too much time stressing over it, but it's done. AlSo, I'm super glad that we did this, guys.
The first Christmas after Jenny's death had been the hardest. It was that Whit certainly knew it would be, and yet, when November passed into December, and the families nearby began decorating he only wanted to stay inside away from it all. He resisted the urge to keep his blinds shut, and while Emma Douglas, among others, offered to work more hours at the shop, he continued coming in. It was, after all, what she would have wanted. Jana called him every other day, and Jason made a point to call him too when he could.
They arrived in Odyssey about the week before the Holiday, Jana shepherding her two travel weary kids and a load of luggage from the car onto the front lawn. For the last hour they had grumbled impatiently yet without saying much, but when they caught sight of the snow, Monty and Jenny sprung forward, quick to begin pelting each other and making snow angels.
Whit hugged his daughter, warmly on the curb, the lines around his eyes receding a bit.
"It's good to see you." He breathed. "Do you want to come inside when it's warm? I have some tea, and there's a pot of coffee brewing."
Father and daughter sat on the striped yellow couch in the living room, Jana hadn't taken her jacket off, despite the fact Whit had started a fire. She sipped at her tea, splitting her attention between their current conversation and watching six-year old Monty balance precariously on a short stool in front of the tree.
"I'm sorry it's fake." Whit said, suddenly. "It's on the smaller side, and I didn't know -"
She patted his knee. "We have a real one back home...and you wouldn't believe the amount of time I spent cleaning up needles just from when we lugged it in." That earned a small smile from Whit.
"Remember the first time we got a real one?"
"How could I forget?" She laughed. "Gosh, the amount of effort you put in to making that day perfect. I think mom really appreciated it." She said, and bit her lip when pain flashed through his eyes.
"I think she tolerated it, honestly. That four mile walk in the sludge, on the road less travelled…"
"Three kids, one with a cold, one with mismatched shoes…" Jana continued for him. It had been fifteen years since then, and that, she thought, felt longer ago than it probably was, Whit had been absentmindedly looking towards the front window, remembering how the Whittaker clan trooped in close to midnight. Whit and Jerry carried the tree in through the door, managing to scrape it against the wall and the older man's arm.
Jenny was calm and orderly, while he had been nearly as miserable as the kids.
"I'm really sorry, Jenny," He followed her up the stairs. "I should've listened."
"Why are you still apologizing? I said I forgave you." Fiery red curls were matted, and she had her arms wrapped around herself, fingers pressing into her sides.
"I was such an idiot." Whit spoke. She halted, bit at her lip and looked away for a moment.
"John Avery. You were, but you need to stop being one now, because your family needs you. Alright?" He nodded, meekly.
"What can I do?"
"For starters, you could make some of the chamomile tea I bought, Jana could certainly use it." They could hear her coughing from the couch. Jenny looked sincerely worried in that moment. "Please." And Whit reacted quickly.
They missed church the following morning, struggled with the bereavement but it was a good day, then. The Whittakers spent it recovering by watching old movies and drinking hot cocoa, Jenny baked another pie and it was gone before the sun set.
The following evening, a hooded figure knocked twice on the oak colored door as he stepped in, careful to close it behind him.
"Dad?" He pulled the hood off and wrung a hand through his dark brown hair, turned black by the freezing rainwater.
"Hey, guys!" Without bothering to step out of his sodden coat, Jason grabbed Monty and Jenny, hugging them tightly.
"Ewwww." Jenny said. "You're dirty." She scurried out under his arms and frowned.
"You're warm. And...what is this, flour? Are you making cookies?" Jason sniffed the air, dusting off his nephew with a free hand.
"Sugar cookies!" Said Jenny, grinning toothily.
"What took you so long to get here?" Monty asked.
"The roads were all wet."
"But mom said you'd be here yesterday." There was a hint of an accusation in his tone, and Jason understood.
"Monty, I'm sorry. I was planning on it, but some things happen that you can't see coming." He said gently, hoping it was explanation enough. The young boy just shrugged, murmured that it was fine.
"Jason…" Jana came into the hall, then let out an exaggerated sigh for both her own benefit when she saw him dripping. "You stay right there. I'll get a towel." She wagged a finger, and thunder boomed outside. "Da-d! The judge is here!"
"What? No hug?"
Within the hour, they were all settled at the dining table. Whit at the head, Jana and Monty to his left, Jason and Jenny opposite them. They hadn't forgotten about the two empty chairs, and it would have felt disrespectful to imagine sitting in the one on the far end. For years and years, the former Jenny Whittaker had taken her place there during dinner, not often needing to even raise her voice to be heard. She was great at getting people's attention and didn't even realize it. Sometimes Jenny would just catch his gaze and tilt her hand towards the table, smiling beautifully, as if to remind him what they had, what they were blessed with. During even the crankiest of moods, or the most stressful days, he'd be able to soften.
"Dad?" Jason had been tapping on his arm, his messy hair shoved to one side. Jana mouthing something to him he couldn't quite get. Then, after a moment, Whit realized they were waiting for him to pray.
"Dear Heavenly father," He started, breathed, "we thank you that you have brought us here together. Thank you that you for the love you have for us, that you sent your son as the gift we don't deserve, to save us. Thank you that you...care about us, and the people you've placed in our lives. Would you please bless this night, Lord, and use us to honor you. In Jesus' name, Amen." Amen was echoed, and they began eating, noisily. Jana, giving Jason a mock scowl when he took two rolls at once, then out of habit, glanced towards the empty chair. The brief, insane thought they might lose another of theirs brought a lump to her throat.
"How's Tom doing?" She forced herself to ask.
"Good, good." Whit nodded for a few seconds longer than he meant.
"Did you cook all this yourself?"
"I know how to cook, Jana." He set his fork down.
"I know, but you've been cooking regularly, right?"
"Honey, I promise you, I've been eating." Whit spoke sincerely.
"Have you been sleeping?" Asked Jason, suddenly, noting the dark corners beneath his weary eyes earlier.
"Grandpa, are you okay?" Monty himself had stopped eating.
"I - "
"You're not sleeping?"
"Yes-no. I am, Jason. Not as much as maybe I used to." Whit sighed. His son squinted suspiciously.
"Maybe I should call Jack." Whit buried his face into his hands and straightened, rising slightly.
"Kids. Listen, please." He pleaded. "Jack was down here last week, and I'm grateful for that. But I don't need people putting their own lives on hold to help me. I'm not planning on going anywhere. Not with you settling down, and you still in school."
"But you're…" Whatever Jana had been meaning to say, she choked on something dangerously close to a sob, and Monty threw his arms around her.
Whit reached over to take her hand.
"What do we do now?" Jason said quietly, lost.
"I'm here. So...we keep living."
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