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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Kids
- Theme: Mystery
- Subject: Mystery
- Published: 08/16/2018
The Wooden Wolf
Born 2004, F, from Indiana, United StatesToday is the day. The first day of Summer vacation, and I leave for my grandparent’s house. I wake up, groggy and sleepy in my blue memory-foam bed. During the night, my covers have slipped off and are now laying on the ground. I stretch, then pop my fingers, then sit up. I have to start getting ready for Grandma and Grandpa’s house! I get out of bed, moving slowly towards my suitcase at the other end of the room. I grab the handle. There. Done. I grip the handle and walk out of my room, still with my pajamas on. I walk past my parent’s room, where I hear my dad snoring, then I move past my little brother’s room, where I hear toys clanking against each other as Ethan tries to find the correct toy to be Superman’s nemesis.
After my slow, sleepy walk down the stairs, I just decide to leave my suitcase at the bottom of the stairs. I walk into the kitchen, and see my mom sipping coffee in her purple robe.
“How’d you sleep, Sophi?” She asks me. “You excited for your first day of Summer vacation?”
“Yep. And I can’t wait to see Grandma and Grandpa!”
“Good! They are happy too. They sent me a text saying they had a present for you when you get there.” I smile. My grandparents always give us presents when we get there. The presents are always delightful. Once, my grandparents got me a gift card for O'Charley's, and we went there for dinner.
I walk over to the cabinet next to the window to get my breakfast ready; today is Saturday, so it’s pancakes, eggs and bacon day. I see a little wooden figure out of the corner of my eye sitting on the window ledge. It looks like a wolf. I, thinking it might have been a gift from my dad to my mom, turn around and grab it, showing it to her.
“Hey, Mom? You didn’t have this yesterday. Where did you get it?” I hold out my hand. There is a strange feeling in my hand, but I continue to stare at my mom.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must be tired, sweety, because there’s nothing in your hand at all.” I break my gaze from my mother and stare at my empty hand. I swear it had been there a moment ago. I felt it sitting in my hand, the perfect designs on the paws, the beautiful way it stood, how it seemed so confident in what it was about to do. I had felt it’s incredibly sophisticated fur, it’s head poised up towards the moon, and the closed eyes that told me it was ready for everything. It had filled me with confidence. I hadn’t even seen it before, and I had touched it and picked it up, but now it is gone, and when it vanished my confidence vanished with it.
“Honey? Are you alright? Do you want to stay home and not go to grandma’s and grandpa’s?” My mom asks me. I shake my head.
“No, no, I want to go. I’m ready. My suitcase is at the bottom of the stairs.” I go grab it from it’s spot and pull it to the garage. I stop it at the trunk of the minivan that my mom drives and open the trunk. I wait for my mom to put it in the trunk, because it’s too heavy for me to lift. My mom, as if on cue to my thoughts, walks out of the back door to come help me. She lifts the suitcase into the trunk delicately.
“Alright, Sophi, ready to go?”
When we get there I hop out of the car as soon as it stops. My Grandparents are standing there, waiting for me. We give each other a big huge hug. My mom grunts, lifts out my suitcase, then tiringly plops it on the ground. I run and grab it, pulling it along the long driveway that belongs to my grandparents. We end up inside my grandparents extremely nice house. Grandpa and I pull up my suitcase to my room while my mom and Grandma talk. Grandpa starts talking.
“So, did your mom say we had a present for you?” I nod.
“Great. Well, me and your Grandma had a debate of who would give it to you, and I won. And I hardly ever win. Here. We thought you’d like it.” He holds out his hand. I stare. It can’t be. The wooden wolf that I had tried and failed to show my mom sits in his hand. I have to try extra hard not to gasp. My Grandpa gets impatient, holding his present for me in his palm.
“Do you like it?” He asks me. I nod self-consciously.
“Yes, I do. It’s lovely.” I snap out of it and take the beautiful carved wolf. The wolf gives off the same feeling I had felt when I tried to show it to my mom.
“I really do love your present.” I say. My grandpa gives me a confused look.
“What present? Do you know what it is? How? I haven’t even given your present to you yet.” I look down at my hand. It is empty. This is the same thing that happened earlier with my mom. I gasp, because this time I can’t stop it.
“You… I… uh…” I stutter. I am really at a loss for words. I clench the fist that the wolf used to be in, stomping lightly down the wooden stairs. My mom has already left and grandma stands at the the bottom of the stairs, eyes gleaming.
“So, how’d you like your present?” She asks. I stare at her and get close enough to her so that she could hear.
“It disappeared.” I whisper. “I had it in my hand, but it just, well, disappeared. Grandpa even forgot he gave it to me. So did my mom.” Grandma smiled.
“I knew this would happen.” She mutters to herself.
“But, you know, you’re just imagining this. There is not a wooden wolf at all. Just wake up now.” Grandma’s face swirls. I wake up groggy and sleepy in my blue memory foam bed. On the window ledge sits the wooden wolf. I turn away, blinking. Then when I turn back, it is gone.
The Wooden Wolf(Hannah)
Today is the day. The first day of Summer vacation, and I leave for my grandparent’s house. I wake up, groggy and sleepy in my blue memory-foam bed. During the night, my covers have slipped off and are now laying on the ground. I stretch, then pop my fingers, then sit up. I have to start getting ready for Grandma and Grandpa’s house! I get out of bed, moving slowly towards my suitcase at the other end of the room. I grab the handle. There. Done. I grip the handle and walk out of my room, still with my pajamas on. I walk past my parent’s room, where I hear my dad snoring, then I move past my little brother’s room, where I hear toys clanking against each other as Ethan tries to find the correct toy to be Superman’s nemesis.
After my slow, sleepy walk down the stairs, I just decide to leave my suitcase at the bottom of the stairs. I walk into the kitchen, and see my mom sipping coffee in her purple robe.
“How’d you sleep, Sophi?” She asks me. “You excited for your first day of Summer vacation?”
“Yep. And I can’t wait to see Grandma and Grandpa!”
“Good! They are happy too. They sent me a text saying they had a present for you when you get there.” I smile. My grandparents always give us presents when we get there. The presents are always delightful. Once, my grandparents got me a gift card for O'Charley's, and we went there for dinner.
I walk over to the cabinet next to the window to get my breakfast ready; today is Saturday, so it’s pancakes, eggs and bacon day. I see a little wooden figure out of the corner of my eye sitting on the window ledge. It looks like a wolf. I, thinking it might have been a gift from my dad to my mom, turn around and grab it, showing it to her.
“Hey, Mom? You didn’t have this yesterday. Where did you get it?” I hold out my hand. There is a strange feeling in my hand, but I continue to stare at my mom.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must be tired, sweety, because there’s nothing in your hand at all.” I break my gaze from my mother and stare at my empty hand. I swear it had been there a moment ago. I felt it sitting in my hand, the perfect designs on the paws, the beautiful way it stood, how it seemed so confident in what it was about to do. I had felt it’s incredibly sophisticated fur, it’s head poised up towards the moon, and the closed eyes that told me it was ready for everything. It had filled me with confidence. I hadn’t even seen it before, and I had touched it and picked it up, but now it is gone, and when it vanished my confidence vanished with it.
“Honey? Are you alright? Do you want to stay home and not go to grandma’s and grandpa’s?” My mom asks me. I shake my head.
“No, no, I want to go. I’m ready. My suitcase is at the bottom of the stairs.” I go grab it from it’s spot and pull it to the garage. I stop it at the trunk of the minivan that my mom drives and open the trunk. I wait for my mom to put it in the trunk, because it’s too heavy for me to lift. My mom, as if on cue to my thoughts, walks out of the back door to come help me. She lifts the suitcase into the trunk delicately.
“Alright, Sophi, ready to go?”
When we get there I hop out of the car as soon as it stops. My Grandparents are standing there, waiting for me. We give each other a big huge hug. My mom grunts, lifts out my suitcase, then tiringly plops it on the ground. I run and grab it, pulling it along the long driveway that belongs to my grandparents. We end up inside my grandparents extremely nice house. Grandpa and I pull up my suitcase to my room while my mom and Grandma talk. Grandpa starts talking.
“So, did your mom say we had a present for you?” I nod.
“Great. Well, me and your Grandma had a debate of who would give it to you, and I won. And I hardly ever win. Here. We thought you’d like it.” He holds out his hand. I stare. It can’t be. The wooden wolf that I had tried and failed to show my mom sits in his hand. I have to try extra hard not to gasp. My Grandpa gets impatient, holding his present for me in his palm.
“Do you like it?” He asks me. I nod self-consciously.
“Yes, I do. It’s lovely.” I snap out of it and take the beautiful carved wolf. The wolf gives off the same feeling I had felt when I tried to show it to my mom.
“I really do love your present.” I say. My grandpa gives me a confused look.
“What present? Do you know what it is? How? I haven’t even given your present to you yet.” I look down at my hand. It is empty. This is the same thing that happened earlier with my mom. I gasp, because this time I can’t stop it.
“You… I… uh…” I stutter. I am really at a loss for words. I clench the fist that the wolf used to be in, stomping lightly down the wooden stairs. My mom has already left and grandma stands at the the bottom of the stairs, eyes gleaming.
“So, how’d you like your present?” She asks. I stare at her and get close enough to her so that she could hear.
“It disappeared.” I whisper. “I had it in my hand, but it just, well, disappeared. Grandpa even forgot he gave it to me. So did my mom.” Grandma smiled.
“I knew this would happen.” She mutters to herself.
“But, you know, you’re just imagining this. There is not a wooden wolf at all. Just wake up now.” Grandma’s face swirls. I wake up groggy and sleepy in my blue memory foam bed. On the window ledge sits the wooden wolf. I turn away, blinking. Then when I turn back, it is gone.
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Gail Moore
10/22/2018Hannah, Your stories amaze me. Such awesome stories for someone so young. Congratulations.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Wess Luca
08/16/2018What a lovely story with a very dream-like quality to it. Just like Kevin, I’d like to see where this story goes. I personally feel like the wolf is trying to play tricks on her or communicate with her.
And don’t ever get discouraged because you’re young! You have very good grammar and spelling for a writer of your age and the magical storytelling quality that not many people have.
Keep it up, Hannah!
Help Us Understand What's Happening
JD
08/17/2018Ditto from me! Thanks for your lovely encouraging words, Wess. I second the motion! Keep it up, Hannah! You have an amazing writing and storytelling ability for someone so young! : )
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
08/16/2018Hannah,
The story is wonderful. The fact that you were younger when you wrote it, just makes it more enjoyable. As all of us drift back to when we were ten or eleven, and wonder if we could have written something like this. The answer, for most of us, is probably not.
It is good story, the beginning of one anyway. So many places to take this. Is the wolf her token? Does she have a power awakening? Is she finding her spirit animal? Or has the wolf chosen her? When you rewrite it, if you do, you will know. When you put stuff out there, people will judge it. That is the reader's prerogative.
However, what the reader thinks doesn't reflect what the Author did. Ever heard of a Series called: Harry Potter? Lots of people don't like those books. Many more do like them- a lot!
She was rejected by many Editors, Publishing houses, and printers- but she kept on writing. Sometimes, and only sometimes, an Artist needs to listen to her critics- but never about the creative part, only the mechanics. It is your story to tell your way. (Hear that Hannah? It is my old people's soapbox falling over. LOL )
Smiles, Kevin
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
08/16/2018Hannah,
There is no time limit. It is just for fun! You just go about your day, have fun, learn, grow, get your Mom and find chocolate! Smiles, Kevin
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Hannah
08/16/2018Thank you! (And I swear, I will finish that challenge story sometime, just have a lot of school work!)
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Hannah
08/16/2018Please try not to judge the quality, this was a story I had done two to three years ago, so if you do judge, make sure you remember that this story was written my an eleven to twelve year old girl!
(I may rewrite this story in the future)
Help Us Understand What's Happening
JD
08/17/2018Another beautifully told tale, Hannah! Amazing that you wrote it when you were only 12! You are one talented writer, young lady... then and now! : )
COMMENTS (6)