Weekly Writing Challenge: Frozen in Time

Here is my entry for the Weekly Writing Challenge, found here: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/09/16/writing-challenge-dialogue/.

Length: 409 words

Enjoy!

—

“I don’t understand.” I furrowed my brows. “You’re so young; you should be doing childish things and have no worries of the world.”

There was a flash in her eyes and suddenly her stone face became distorted with fury.

“You have suffered – I can see it in your eyes – but you are a naïve fool!” Mika spat. “You are not the only one familiar with pain and you are blind to those who know greater pain than you!”

I snapped my gaping mouth shut, suddenly embarrassed. How could a child make me feel so young? “Like you?” I blurted, regretting it before I even finished the words.

“You have no idea,” she whispered. Her narrowed eyes were filled with a deep, age-old sadness. She turned and began to walk away.

“Wait!” I cried. I lurched forward and grabbed her shoulder. “I’m sorry. You’re right; I am naïve. You’re also right about my pain. Please help me understand yours! I want to help you! Who knows, we may even be able to help each other.”

Mika shook off my hand, turned to face me and our eyes locked. We stood there for what felt like ages, looking into each other’s eyes. Eventually, she sighed and her shoulders slumped.

“All right, fine. You must first promise me that you are sincere. Too many times have I confided in straight-faced statues for human beings, pretending to care merely because they’re expected to.”

“I promise you. Like you said, I am familiar with suffering.” I smiled stiffly, thinking of my father.

She chuckled humourlessly and returned my stiff smile. “How old do you think I am?”

“You look about ten.”

Her smile formed into an unbecoming grin. “I was born in 1936. I was Changed in 1946.”

My mouth was handing open again, I noted. “You’re 74 years old?!”

“Yes. I aged well, ne? Now, how well do you know your history?”

“Decently. 1945 marked the end of…” My voice trailed off. It all suddenly made sense. “My god… The bomb. You were –“

“–Living in Hiroshima at the time. I was far enough from the center to live, but close enough to suffer from everything else. I lived like that for a year before I was Changed. Long enough to watch everybody around me die –“

Her voice caught and she stopped. All I could do was approach her and hold her in my arms.

“I’m so sorry…”

—

I would like to note for those viewing my blog: this story and the characters in it are both my own. I have been working on this story for a long time, though admittedly I haven’t gotten very far with it. The narrator is a young girl named Naomi Thomas. I hope to post more about this story in the near future.

Thanks, guys!

M.C.