My First Story on Vocal CAME TRUE!

The first story I wrote for Vocal Media helped all of my dreams come true!!

The first piece I ever submitted to Vocal was called CHOOSE, for the Little Black Book Challenge. It was the first time I ever wrote for a challenge, and the first time I was truly inspired by another’s prompt. The story came to me as I wrote each word, and it even helped me to step into my style as a fiction writer. To me, my stories feel the most powerful when there is much left unsaid. Unresolved cliff-hangers have become my specialty…

I took a deep breath to calm the shaking in my chest, but I could only let out another stuttered sigh. The handle was gripped in both my hands, until one retreated to reach for the latch of the door. The metal swung open, and my feet seemed to fall to the pavement below. I pushed the door shut and heard the boom echo and fade as I walked away.

With each step I took, the ground below me seemed to soften and I felt as though I was floating towards him. He wasn’t within my sight, but I could feel where he was –almost seeing through walls for the familiar sight of him at the table. I wondered if he could feel me, too. Did he hear me park in the lot across from him? Did the slam of my van door spark his awareness? And those questions were answered when I was greeted by an open door and his smiling face.

Suddenly, I wanted to hide the surprise; but I just couldn’t contain my excitement! It fell from my hands as I ran to him, as if nothing else in the world mattered. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist; and although he was shocked, he still caught me with ease. I giggled in his ear and nibbled on his neck as I felt him hold me for the first time in a long while.

We had seen each other only two days prior, and I had heard his voice through the phone an hour before this embrace. “What’s gotten into you?” he asked, running his hand down my back as we brought my feet to the ground.

“I missed you, that’s all…” was all I could muster –smiling at the grass because I couldn’t meet his eye. When I finally did look up to his face, I saw his sight set on the surprise behind me. It was simply resting in the grass, but I knew of its contents and I could feel its glow.

I peeled my eyes from the item on the ground, and turned back to see him take a step forward. It was calling to him as well, and I could feel the anticipation in his heart drawing him into its path. I stood between them though, and gently rested a hand on his chest. I looked into his eyes, and gave him the look we always did.

He could hear the words that I didn’t need to speak, and he walked away as I recovered the glowing item. I watched his back, in that painfully familiar place, and observed him as he rested his body in our favourite spot. You see, it hadn’t been long since we laid eyes on each other, but I hadn’t been back in that place for weeks.

We had lived there together, for over two years; and it broke my heart when I didn’t return. It hadn’t been the easiest time in either of our lives, but we were getting through it together. Living in a trailer can be difficult, yet I learned how enjoyable it can be –when you have the right company, of course.

There were days in the summer when we lived off a shared orange, and weeks in the winter when we cuddled just to stay warm. Our life wasn’t all that comfortable, but we found comfort in each other’s arms –or from a distance on sweaty summer days. Of course, that life could take its toll on anyone, and for other reasons that will be left unsaid, it came time for me to take a break from trailer life.

With most of my belongings collecting dust in my parents’ attic, and the sale of their house constantly creeping closer, I took the opportunity to say goodbye to that old home. I packed a bag for the weekend, with my clothes, computer and cannabis, and got comfortable in a room that I used to call mine.

And then the comforts continued to call to me…

Suddenly, I didn’t have to go outside to pee, as I did in the trailer; and I could enjoy air conditioning on those hot August days. The convenience of running water and the forgotten comfort of privacy were whispering for me to stay.

But something still didn’t feel quite right…

While I was enjoying some luxuries I had completely forgotten, there were aspects of trailer life that I was beginning to miss. The man I slept next to every night, of course, as well as the small space and minimalist lifestyle we had created together.

In my parents’ house, I began to roll my eyes every time I had to walk across the house because I left my coffee on the counter. I was beginning to miss my tiny house, and having almost everything within arm’s reach.

As I readjusted to life in a house after life in a trailer, I felt the anxiety in my chest lessen. Not having to worry about where your next meal is coming from can create that effect, of course; but it was mostly an emotional anxiety that began to melt away.

I know I’m not the only one to lose myself in a relationship, and some time spent apart helped me realize that fact. I even began to recognize that it wasn’t just the inconveniences of trailer life that were weighing me down; it was also the stifling of my own dreams and desires.

Don’t get me wrong… this was no fault of him –or even me, for that matter. I had to lose myself to our life together, so that I could learn this lesson and step into my power. And I had to live a life without luxury so that I could determine what I truly want.

You see, I don’t regret any single moment of my life –not even those cold winter nights– because if I take away any one of my experiences, I lose a part of who I am; and with it, the lessons I’ve learned along the way. My lifestyle for the last two years had brought me to a breaking point; and when I allowed some things to break away, I saw a simple truth glaring back through the cracks.

If you want it, you deserve it; and if you deserve it, you’ll receive it.

When I wrote, CHOOSE, I had no idea that I was predicting the future. I thought it was simply a piece of abstract fiction, with some elements thrown in to win a contest.

I painted a scene where a character is offered two objects, and is forced to choose only one. I never revealed which object is chosen, and I don’t specify that it’s all just a dream. I left it up to the reader to decide if they left with a briefcase full of money, or a notebook filled with the secrets to life.

Little did I know that when these events would come to pass, I would be able to choose both objects, instead of just one. I (metaphorically) awoke from my own CHOOSE dream and found a briefcase in one hand, and a little black book in the other.

His body rested in a chair on the lawn and he beckoned me over to the empty seat next to him. We had sat in those chairs, countless times before, but I could already feel how much had changed. I lowered myself down, and gazed up at the sun piercing through the leaves of the old oak tree. A smile spread across my face and I felt held by that familiar space; when I rested my hand on the top of his, I felt like I was home.

And when I looked back to him, I saw his eyes wonder.

His light brown eyes darted from me, to the object in my hands and then to the white vehicle parked across the street –the van I had drifted out of. I watched his lips part and his voice reach my ears, “Is that what I think it is?”

A sly smile spread across my face as I slid the object from my lap to his. “What do you think it is?” I asked, winking at him playfully. He gave me another look that was painfully familiar, and I remembered all the times we had joked about this very moment.

He tore his gaze away from me and lowered his sight on the item in his lap. I watched his hands shake as he reached for the clasps, and I was brought back to that scene in CHOOSE. I observed his face as the lid opened and fell back down to reveal the shining contents, and I felt my anticipation reach its climax in that moment.

We simply stared into the briefcase for what felt like minutes, and then he finally looked me in the eye; a single tear falling from his. While our previous jokes about a briefcase like this could cause tears of defeat, I was so pleased to see a tear of gratitude fall from his face and onto the plastic pages below.

The rays of the sun reflected off their surfaces, and we could both see the bright colours as he lifted a few in his hands. Four blue bills began to float to the ground, and then he snagged a stack of brown pages, gripping them in his hand. He looked back to me with amazement, and then darted his gaze to the van across the road.

It was tall and white, seemingly brand new, and with a logo on the front we had never dreamed to own. It was a familiar sight to both of us, as we walked toward its shining edges –I had sent him ads for camper vans every few days, asking for his opinion as I searched for my own home. To him, they were a blur of photos, and I didn’t expect him to remember the one I was most excited about. I remembered though, and it felt as amazing as the photos I had become obsessed with.

We strode across the street in silence –his heart waiting for mine to speak. I was always the one that would never shut up, but in that moment, every word caught in my chest. When I looked up to his face walking next to me, I saw that my words were playing in his mind –he already knows, I thought.

I swung the doors opened, and watched him lift his body into my new home. Leaning up against the counter of the Sprinter Camper Van, he gripped his hands on the edge and traced his eyes around the room. He brought his gaze back to me, with his mouth gapping open, and I saw the sparkle in his eye fall down his cheek. When he didn’t take a step toward me, I shuffled closer to him, and rested my hands on the familiar feel of his beard. I held him for a moment, my eyes sinking into his; and then I finally found the words to speak.

With his hands on my waist and my palms caressing his cheeks, I said the words I had been dreaming of…

“I won.”