Full title: "For My Dear: The Wilting Flower - Part One"


I am experimenting. Not exactly sure where I am going with this but I hope that I will keep you guys at the edge of your seats with this one. "For My Dear" will be the main title for my series of journals telling stories from different perspectives of individual characters that I have & will create.

Does this go in fantasy, horror, science-fiction, or mystery? I think it's a little bit of everything to be honest, but since this is the first stage of the story, it is hard to tell.

"The Wilting Flower" is the actual title of this story, which is told through the voice of Elva. Right now we know little about Elva except for her worries about her friend, Sasha who we can plainly see she felt for on another level besides pure friendship. We do not know as yet if they were actually a couple.

I hope you enjoy this FIRST INSTALLMENT of "For My Dear: The Wilting Flower" just as much as I am.


==========================


Dear Diary,


It has been three years, eight months, six days, nine hours and I suppose perhaps fifteen minutes since I last saw Sasha. I still remember that day so clearly, like it was yesterday.



It was the first day of spring. Sasha had promised to take me out on a picnic at Highdelbird Park, so we both went there together with woven baskets in our hand containing out lunches of sandwiches, bread rolls, cookies and home made heart shaped chocolates we had prepared earlier that we could eat whilst enjoying the beauty of the botanical gardens.


During our meal beneath the old giant oak tree that was decorated with beautiful yellow ribbons tied around its trunk, Sasha told me he had heard the sound of an ice-cream truck nearby and asked me if I would like some ice-cream.



Of course I agreed! Who could say no to ice-cream?



Sasha smiled at me, nodding as if making up his mind for the first time and told me he would be back with some ice-cream in a few minutes.


I watched him cross the busy street to get to the other side, then sprint around the corner of the local fruit shop to chase after the ice-cream truck we had both seen.

I waited for at least 20 minutes thinking that suppose there was a big line with children and parents to get ice-cream, which is why Sasha was taking so long, but then an hour passed by, and there was still no word of Sasha.


I tried dialing Sasha’s mobile phone however when I did a female recorded voice repeated to me that the number I was dialing was not listed. How could that be though? I had rung Sasha earlier that day before we left to the park for our picnic. It wasn’t making any sense.



I waited for two hours for Sasha to return, trying countless times to contact him by dialing his number with my mobile phone, but over again the female recorded voice repeated in my head. I didn’t even need to hear the whole message. I knew what she was going to say.


I did think about moving from my spot to search for Sasha however I felt that if Sasha was having some trouble, he would know where to find me, at least I’d hope so. I remember waiting for half an hour more after that in hopes that he would come, but he never did, so I went home alone.



I told my uncle about the incident and he was furious. However furious my uncle Albert was, still I was worried. I wanted to file a missing persons report; however both my Auntie Marie and Uncle Albert dismissed the idea of it and told me that I was a fool.


I really wanted to cry. I had so many mixed emotions inside of me I was confused what exactly I was supposed to feel. I was angry, confused, hurt, upset and worried about Sasha. Where did he go? Why did he leave me? To this day I still do not know.




I am tired. I think I will end this entry now in hopes that things are brighter for me tomorrow. A reason I wrote this was to help me get weight off my shoulders of these old troubles that are worrying me.


Perhaps I have moved on in a way. It has after all been three years since the incident with Sasha happened. Although my aunt and uncle both believe that what happened to Sasha was intentional, I can’t help but think that some spiritual part had a play in the incident.



To this day, every time I sleep I still can hear the sound of the ice-cream truck’s melody so clearly as if it was playing right outside my bedroom window.



I won’t lie and say that I am not afraid, because I am. I fear wholeheartedly that whatever spirited my dear Sasha away might someday take me.




Maybe I am but just a fool…



Elva.

Wow, great start! At first I thought Sasha was a girl though. XD Anyway, continue please?

Interesting start. I hope you don't mind a slightly more thorough critique?

It's hard writing a story via journals, and I guess the problem for me (probably not one for everyone else reading) is that there isn't much set-up for Elva as a character. It's difficult to be sympathetic with her because we don't really know her, and I suppose my tip would be to work in small details about her every time she writes an entry.

You've probably heard "show, don't tell" before, and I kind of get the feeling the end was rushed because of this line:

"I can’t help but think that some spiritual part had a play in the incident."

The question on everyone's lips must be "why would she think that?" - what brought her to that conclusion? It's a pretty random statement that doesn't indicate anything spiritual happens in her life on a regular (or infrequent) basis or that it happens anywhere at all.

Interesting, though. There are some cool and curious things going on (the melody of the ice-cream truck, for one), but most of that I get from having been told, not because they were completely illustrated by what was written.

I am intrigued.

@))~,~

I'm not sure how to continue it. XD