I wrote this story in 6th grade, but I have decided to share it. It’s titled, The Storm in a Friendship.
It was raining. Again. And I hate rain. Lightning flashed across the dark black sky, followed by a rumble of thunder. I hated rain, which was ironic, because my name happens to be Raine. It was raining last spring when–well; actually, I’d rather not talk about it. Lightning streaked through the sky again, leaving a faint yellow glow in my eyes. My bedroom light flickered and went out, plunging me in darkness. My alarm clock began to flash, displaying only 12 o’clock in red numbers.
I was tired, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I picked up my lucky–well, it used to be–blue pen. I called it “lightning bolt blue”, but I never knew why. Lightning bolts aren’t blue are they? I remember the day when my best friend bought it for me. It was a year ago, at a shop that sold school supplies, and it was raining that day too. I clearly remember it.
A light drizzle of rain fell from the sky as my best friend, Katie, and I admired the large rack of colorful pens behind the building next to the school. We had just been dismissed and were walking along the streets.
“I owe you, Raine,” Katie had said.
“For what?” I asked, brushing my dark brown hair aside.
“For buying me that delicious, double-scoop chocolate fudge sundae the other day,” She laughed.
“Oh, all right.” I watched Katie scan the rack of pens. Our eyes landed on the same on, my Lightning Bolt Blue.
“That blue one please.” Katie said to the man behind the stand.
“Are you sure?” The man looked at us a little skeptically.
“Why wouldn’t I be sure?” Katie looked at the man, “I do want that one.”
“Well, suit yourself.” The man handed us the blue pen from the rack. I took it from him as Katie paid. With the new pen in my hand, Katie and I ran home, our jackets zipped tightly. At the intersection dividing our houses, I said goodbye to Katie. I pulled open the door to my house as quickly as I could to get out of the rain. I stepped inside and slipped off my shoes. They were dry. And so was my hair. And my jacket. That was weird. My mother came downstairs when I walked in. She had a smile on her face.
And there’s Part 1 of The Storm in a Friendship. If you want to read more, please comment! 🙂 Thanks! 🙂