some fiction for you part 2

If you missed part one you can catch up here. 

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Her body was beginning to tense with fear based off of the look that Wyatt had thrown her way. "Tell me you didn't touch the mirror," he repeated while looking straight into Joanie's eyes. Her throat constricted, words were impossible for her so she merely nodded her head. It was just as the tips of her fingers brushed the ornate carvings on the mirror's frame when the earthquake hit. The coincidental timing was not lost on her or Katie.

Wyatt closed his eyes, slightly exasperated.

"Why are we not supposed to touch the mirror?" Katie asked, finding the words that Joanie had lost. Just then the floor rumbled, less violently than before but still enough to unnerve both girls. Aftershocks, Katie concluded in her head.

"It's just an old story," Wyatt started to explain, dismissing the tremors of the house. Then he sighed heavily as if burdened with the entire world. Katie and Joanie, not to be put off, leaned their bodies toward Wyatt's place on the over sized chair. But he didn't react to them. Wyatt had become so lost in thought that it took Joanie's hand waving in front of his face before he remembered that he was even on Earth.

His fingers rubbed back and forth in his lap as Wyatt mentally argued with himself as to whether or not he should delve into the story, the memories of the house and the mirror. On one hand the girls appeared interested and it was a good adventure, but on the other hand it was mentally and emotionally taxing to retell the tale of the looking glass.

"Go on," Katie coaxed impatiently.

"It started a long time ago," Wyatt finally consented, having decided to let the girls in on the story. He sighed, took a sip of water from the glass sitting beside him, and continued on. "The legend says the mirror was forged in mountains of a mythical land-"

"Wait!" Joanie almost shouted, she was stifling laughter. "Are you for real? A mythical land? Seriously?" she looked at Katie in disbelief, but Katie was staring at Wyatt intently. "Guys?" Joanie questioned their silence.

"Do you want to know the story or not?" Wyatt turned his gaze on a quizzical Joanie who nodded her head, sobering up. "I'm just telling you what was told to me. And it was Myrtle who sat me down one night and confided it all in me anyway. So if you're going to poke fun just know you're doing it at Myrtle's expense."

Joanie's smile faded and she waited for Wyatt to continue his tale. He looked as if he was about to say something, his mouth agape, but then he broke into a wide disarming smile. Katie sat up straight, confused. Joanie rolled her eyes.

"Hobbits," he says.

"Hobbits?" the girls repeat simultaneously.

"Hobbits," he confirms solemnly.

"There is no way hobbits have anything to do with the mirror," Joanie raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

"No, maybe not hobbits. Maybe house elves..." Wyatt changes his mind. Joanie is starting to catch on. She plays his game.

"Dobby?" she asks, trying to refrain from smiling. Wyatt shakes his head.

"Maybe not," he holds Joanie's stare, careful not to give too much away. Katie is still lost. She looks somewhat frantically from Joanie to Wyatt and back again.

"What in the world is going on?" Katie asks, frustration rising in her voice.

"Okay, the truth is," Wyatt gives in, "the truth is that there is no legend behind the mirror."

It takes a second for the words to sink in. No legend behind the mirror? No creepy story to explain the timing between touching the mirror and the earthquake? Katie shakes her head and rests the side of her face on her hand leaning against the arm of the couch. "So you were making it all up?" she inquires in a voice barely above a whisper. She looks a little hurt and Wyatt feels a little sorry for playing it up, but the opportunity was too good to pass on.

"Sorry," he says slightly sheepishly. Joanie cackles from where she's seated, finding the whole thing absolutely hilarious. And then she remembers being thrown against the hard furniture and being knocked unconscious.

"It can't be just coincidental timing that Joanie touched the mirror and there was an earthquake," Katie volunteered once Joanie's laughing had died down.

"But it's also something that I can't explain to you," Wyatt shrugs his shoulders.

"Let's touch it again and see what happens then," Katie suggests. What have they got to lose? She stands up from the couch and makes her way towards the staircase. She's at the bottom before she realizes that she's not being followed. "Come on you guys, if there's no legend then what do you have to be afraid of?"

Joanie starts in Katie's direction, to prove she's not a wimp. Wyatt follows her, refusing to be outdone and the three make their way back to the bedroom. Wyatt explained that this had been Myrtle's bedroom, but she'd always kept a sheet over that mirror. He asked her about it once, but she brushed him off saying something vague and noncommittal. Once when Wyatt had house sat for her he had peeked under the white cotton linen, but decided to leave it alone anyway at Myrtle's request.

Katie unabashedly and unceremoniously yanked the sheet away from the beautiful ancient mirror. It now stood before them in all it's reflective glory. The longer Katie stared into the looking glass to more she was in awe at how it had survived this long and stayed so lovely, unbroken and vibrant. There was something odd about how it reflected the world too, everything seemed much brighter inside the confines of the mirror's surface. All three of them took note of this.

It was Wyatt though, who reached out a cautious calloused hand and wrapped his fingers around the wooden frame. At first nothing happened, and they all breathed a sigh of relief. Wyatt released his hold on the mirror, laughing nervously.

"See?" Katie said pointedly, "that wasn't scary."

She reached her own had toward the mirror, and that's when it happened. Katie reached for the glass, not the frame and then she disappeared. The room started shaking and Joanie looked frightfully at Wyatt for any sort of an explanation at all. The only thing she saw in his eyes though was fear. Before she had time to think it through, Joanie reached for the mirror the same way Katie had and then she was gone too. Wyatt didn't know what to do, and he couldn't leave the girls trapped in the mirror all alone, so he reached forward and the mirror swirled around him.

Katie hit the ground hard, but found that she had landed in a field. Not very far away was Joanie, and just beyond her lay Wyatt. The sky was bright blue and the sun was almost blinding. There weren't any trees to shade it's harsh rays and Katie had to cover her eyes with her hand in order to see. In the distance there was some sort of house with smoke billowing out of the chimney. It looked like it was placed at the base of a mountain, and with no where else to head Katie decided that was as good of a direction to take as any.

Joanie and Wyatt made their way over to where Katie was seated in the field. They had noticed the surroundings too and had come to much the same conclusion as Katie. Standing up and brushing herself off, Katie felt achy from her fall and a bit shook up from what had just happened. Could she really have been sucked through a vortex by a mirror? The whole thing reminded her of Narnia and she half heartedly looked around for a lamp post and Mr. Tumnus, but there was nothing of the sort.

The three decided to head for the distant house right away, with no other real options to consider. It was so far away though that they figured the sooner they started on their way the better. Judging by where the sun was in the sky they didn't have much time until it started to get dark.

Up close the house was really more of a log cabin, small enough with probably just one or two rooms on the inside. There was a yellow light glowing through the windows, probably from a lantern. The air was smokey scented, smelling of burning pine. It was decided that Wyatt would be the one to knock on the door and after three hearty raps it slowly opened. And there stood Myrtle.

some fiction for you part 1

Writing prompt 145: What happens when two friends visit and old house that one of them inherited from an old relative? Inside the house is a 100 year old mirror that has never been broken.

It was a long drive down the dirt road, but they had finally made it to their destination. The house was nothing like Katie expected. Instead of a run-down lame excuse for a dwelling, she was greeted by a brightly colored, well kept up old homestead with a wrap around veranda - not unlike the type of housing she often dreamt about.

Joanie laughed audibly, "This has got to be the biggest surprise in the history of ever! Who knew when you found out this place was yours that you might actually want to live here." Katie parked the car and turned the engine off. Looking over at Joanie, she jingled the keys to the front door and smiled.

Both girls made their way up the steps to the solid wooden French style front door. Katie slid the key into the lock and cautiously found herself in a very large foyer. The furniture had all been draped with sheets long ago and a layer of dust covered everything. Joanie sneezed and then waved her hand in front of her face. Even though everything looked to be in good condition, it had definitely remained untouched for years.

Katie wandered through the house, taking stock of the items in this room and that one. There were several large rooms on the ground floor, including a modernized kitchen and a sizable guest bedroom. She and Joanie couldn't believe they were actually here, surrounded by all this stuff in this great big place. When the letter had arrived in the mail to relay the information of her recent inheritance, Katie had been a little hesitant to come out and see the state of her new belongings, but now she was glad she did.

Joanie left the bedroom in search of other treasures, but Katie stood still at the foot of the enormous wooden bed frame. Her hand was placed precariously on the ornately carved post as she let out a heavy sigh. What was she going to do with all this stuff? It seemed a monumental task to catalog and sell everything, but it was an even scarier thought for her to move in. She couldn't just uproot her life to live out here! In the middle of nowhere! But then again, what did she have to lose?

"Hey, Katie, get up here!" Joanie called from the top of the staircase. She was leaning over the railing, peering downwards with a mischievous gleam in her bright green eyes. Katie, jolted out of her thoughts, dashed up the stairs.

"What's up?"

"Look what I found," Joanie smiled and led Katie into one of the many rooms. She nonchalantly flipped on the light and lifted an old bed sheet off of a large standing mirror. It had a beautiful dark stained wooden frame and was adorned with artistic hand carved designs.

"This is gorgeous," Katie whispered so quietly that Joanie almost didn't hear her.

"It's got to be over a hundred years old," Joanie said, nodding in agreement. She reached out and touched the mirror's edge. Just then there was a cold burst of air in the room and the girls were sent flying backward from the ancient looking glass. The floor shook and rumbled like thunder, throwing both Katie and Joanie around like rag dolls.

Joanie's head came in contact with a large armoire that was taking up residence in a back corner of the room and was instantly knocked out. Katie flew into the wall, her body smashing hard against the pale yellow painted plaster wall. The lights went out and the room was dark.

Once the house quit trembling, Katie remained motionless on the floor. She was too frightened to stand just yet. Momentarily forgetting that Joanie was even with her, Katie closed her eyes. What just happened? With a shaky hand she reached for her temples. Her entire body ached from slamming into the hard wall. But before she could have any farther thoughts, she heard footsteps and looking up, a man appeared in the doorway.

He stood for a moment just outside the room before entering and covering the mirror back up with the sheet. Looking over at Katie, he glared with fiery blue eyes deeply set into an attractive face with a square jaw line. He looked just like every cowboy on the covers of Western novels.

Joanie stirred from the corner of the room and moaned. The man shifted his gaze from one girl to the other. The tension between Katie and this stranger was so thick that she almost couldn't breathe. She watched him move from in front of the mirror to the back corner, where Joanie was still semi unconscious on the floor. Gingerly, he bent over and scooped up Joanie's body effortlessly. Katie gasped and tried to move, but winced with pain. Probably a cracked rib. Or two.

Not knowing what to think or really what was happening, Katie watched the man place Joanie on the bed in the center of the far wall. He smoothed her hair, but the expression on his face was far from pleasant. Then he stepped over by Katie and picked her up, much the same way he had just handled Joanie. However, he walked back down the stairs with Katie in his arms, her own blue eyes staring back at his.

"What about-" Katie started to ask weakly, but his low growl ended her thought. Peculiarly, Katie wasn't frightened to be in this man's arms. She felt oddly comforted by his touch, and for some reason that didn't bug her. Once they had reached the bottom of the stairs, the man carried her into the living room and set her down on the floral upholstered sofa. She could see out the window there was a large expanse of grass, her little red car, and beside it what she assumed to be was the truck belonging to this unusual man.

He sauntered into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water, thrusting it towards Katie so hard it almost spilled. She smiled meekly and took the glass, bringing it to her lips and sipping slowly.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, somewhat gruffly. His voice matched his outward appearance in a way that Katie didn't know how to explain.

"I inherited this house from my - " she stopped, suddenly angry with what was going on. How dare this man come into her house and make her feel accused and unwanted? What was she doing here? Well, what was he doing here?! The look on her face must have given away her thoughts, because she saw the man's expression change from hard and unforgiving to somewhat calm and relaxed.

"There's just not been that much activity here since Myrtle left it some years ago. I come by to check on it every now and then, make sure it hasn't burned to the ground or the like. Shocked me to see your little car out front and then I felt the earth quake," he explained, trying to give her a little comfort.

"Well," Katie said, starting to feel more at ease, "I got a letter in the mail a few weeks ago stating that this residence now belonged to me. Myrtle was my great grandmother. Joanie and I came to check out the house and everything in it. We figured maybe we'd stay for a few days just to see what it was like."

The man nodded. "I should have known you were related to Myrtle. You look just like the old pictures of her she always had hanging about." He finally took a seat across from her in an over sized chair he had pulled the drapery off of. "I'm Wyatt."

"Katie," she answered.

"You feeling any better, Miss Katie?" he asked with a slight grin. He looked almost good-natured, but Katie was still too shook up about the whole ordeal to think of him as anything other than an intruder - even if he was being kind. She nodded in answer to his question though, and took another sip from the glass of water he'd handed her earlier.

Joanie made her way down the stairs to where she had heard Katie's voice in conversation with one she didn't recognize. Vaguely she recalled the whole house shaking and then she remembered nothing but blackness - just that she had awoken on a bed alone. As she entered the living room, Katie glanced her direction, followed by the strange man.

"Wyatt," he volunteered with a wave of his hand.

"Joanie," she replied, shooting a questioning look at Katie who shrugged. "Tell me about that mirror," she said pointedly at Wyatt. His eyes went wide as dinner plates.

"Tell me you didn't touch the mirror," he pleaded. Both girls looked at each other, horrified.

Love Hesitates (Fiction)

create a story based on this personification: love hesitates

He held the box in his hand, flicked open the lid to make sure the $278 white gold band complete with a princess cut diamond was still in its rightful place. He'd stared at the box, and the ring, too many times to count - to afraid to ask the question he was 90% sure of the answer for. The 'what ifs' were getting to him.

Sighing, he stood up from his bed, closing the box and placing it in the pocket of his black pea coat. It had been there for about a month, but the moment just never felt right. Maybe this type of thing is better off planned... he thought as he begrudgingly shut his dowdy apartment door behind him. He was going to meet her.

She was lovely. Every time she looked at him from across the table, she beamed. Her pearly whites were pearly as ever. He didn't know what to do but stare at her. He held her hand on top of the table as they were waiting for their food. Now is as good of a time as ever... But still, he couldn't bring himself to dislodge the little box from his pocket and show her his purchase. It just wasn't that simple.

He kissed her goodnight outside her door, lingering as long as he dared, putting off the inevitable. If he'd only ask her, then he wouldn't have to keep doing this - this whole goodnight deal. If he'd only ask her...if he'd only ask.

Certain that she'd give him the answer he wanted, he left her at her door and made his way back to his lonely, empty apartment. Her embrace had been so warm, her kisses so sweet. Why was this so hard? He wrestled with his inner thoughts as he lay in bed, ignoring the urge to get up and call her on the phone right that very second and tell her all the ways he loved her and that she should be his forever. He rolled over and closed his eyes.

The park was lovely. The air was crispy and slightly cold, typical of a perfect autumn day. The colored leaves were falling to the ground, and her blue jacket matched her eyes in the best way they could possibly ever compliment anything. He fingered the box in it's place inside his pea coat pocket, but still he was holding back.

She took his hand in hers and wrapped her fingers in the empty spaces between his. She looked at him and smiled, remarking how quiet he'd been all day. He smiled and shrugged and squeezed her hand. Inwardly, his heart was racing. With his free hand, he grabbed the box, but something shouted "NO! Not yet!" And he furrowed his brow a little as he released the box from his grasp.

"What's wrong?" she inquired, her voice sweet and syrupy. She always spoke in a sort of sing song voice that made him just want to do anything for her.

"Nothing, nothing," he lied, sensing that now would be a good time to make his move, but alas, it wasn't meant for this moment either. He was hesitating. He knew he was hesitating. He didn't know how to not hesitate.

"Are you sure? You look uncomfortable?" She stopped walking, jerking him to a halt on a grey stone path lined with deliciously golden leafed trees on either side. Park benches where beautifully old couples sat. The old men catching a bit of a nap and the old ladies spreading some bird crumbs for the stay-behind feathered friends who hadn't flown south yet.

Blood pressure elevated, sweat was starting to form on the edge of his hair line. He grabbed the box in his pocket and without waiting to think, he flicked open the lid. She gasped. He got on one knee.

Tears in her eyes, she looked at him, beaming, waiting for him to say the words she so desperately wanted to hear. He was choking on his words, so full of emotion, so surprised at himself. A month he had had this ring, a month he had been waiting for the right moment. A month was far too long, he thought.

"Will you..." he trailed off, not wanting his voice to crack. People were looking now, the old ladies hurriedly and excitedly elbowing their respective elderly gents to watch the spectacle that was about to unfold.

She nodded, not waiting for him to finish the question. He smiled and placed the lovely piece of jewelry on her delicate finger. As they embraced, the spectators cheered all doe eyed and happy. It was in that moment that he realized hesitation was the wrong answer, and that maybe, just maybe the spontaneous moments in life held the most joy.