Short story: The One Left Behind

Monty

There was a storm brewing outside. A cliché I know, but there really was a storm brewing, no other word for it. And even though I didn’t want to look, I was transfixed. A crack of thunder made me jump, and for a moment, I thought I saw the outline of a man in the clouds…  I shivered, trying to reassure myself that it was nothing but a trick of the light, a random assortment of shadows highlighted by the lightning, forming an eerie silhouette.

Last week my sister had told me that she had met someone wonderful, someone… from another world. And not only that, he was a magical being with superhuman powers. Total bullshit of course, but my sister has always been a little wishy-washy when it came to these kinds of things, so I had entertained her and nodded, watching as her face displayed surprise at my lack of concern.

‘You don’t believe me,’ she had said in her soft voice, ‘I really thought you might, I’m not lying, you know.’

‘I don’t think you’re lying. Tell me more about him.’ At this point I remember struggling not to laugh, watching as my sister leaned over the windowsill, staring at the swirling grey of an approaching storm.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Yes you do, but I’ll tell you regardless. He’s there, in that storm,’ she paused, her mouth lifting at the corner with a half-smile. I was once again blindsided by her beauty, her delicate features and glowing skin with its otherworldly translucent sheen. If anyone could be magical, it was her. The downside, she was a little crazy.

‘So, he can create storms?’

‘Come on Mont, don’t be stupid.’ And her head had tilted back, a gentle laugh fluttering from her throat. When she settled she turned to me, her expression urgent and… perplexing. ‘He’s waiting for me in the storm because that’s where the portal is to his world. He’s asked me to go with him, but I wasn’t sure. If I go, I’ll never be able to come back. But there will be other storms, so I can always make him wait.’

‘Ok… then how did he get here if you can’t return?’

My sister pursed her lips. ‘It was my fault.’

‘Your fault?’

‘Yeah. You remember when we went to the lake and I got caught out in that storm when I was kayaking?’

‘I remember. You were almost hit by lightning.’ My memories of my sister’s close call were burned into my mind. The crack of thunder, her empty yellow kayak cresting high over a wave, the relief when I’d found her, spluttering and spitting the dark lake water onto the pebbles of the beach.

‘I never told anyone, but when the lightning bolt hit, everything froze, the water droplets, my hair, the rain and the wind. I slipped beneath the surface and that’s when he found me. I don’t really remember much though, I only really remember the drowning bit really. But… I do know that he saved me and took me to shore, where you found me.’

My sister had finished her story, watching me with expectant eyes. All I had been thinking at that moment was my sister was crazy and I was the one who had been calling for help.

I’d coughed and nodded, scratching the right side of my head. ‘So I still don’t get why you can’t come back.’

My sister was exasperated, shaking her head as she sighed. ‘I called for him during a storm, it was some kind of magical intersection. I mean I don’t know how it all works though okay? Its magic, it’s not supposed to be understandable. He just told me it would be highly unlikely I’d be able to come back. He told me… I was a conduit like him, the reason why he was able to find me.’

I was exhausted by my sister’s strange story, my chest tight with embarrassment. ‘But, we went to the lake months ago, what’s he been doing all this time? Hanging out by your window?’

My sister hadn’t been impressed, and she’d squinted her eyes. ‘Fine then, I’m not telling you anything else because you clearly think I’m crazy.’ And she’d stalked off in a funk, the last time I’d ever see her.

She had always been so peculiar that at the time I hadn’t seen the warning signs, couldn’t pick that she was possibly in danger. And she was. Because my sister went missing not long after and no one has seen her since.

It’s only now after the police have questioned my entire family that I understand how terrifying and real this all is. My sister is missing, most likely murdered, her body perhaps dumped in a secluded wood or river. And the worst thing? I didn’t tell the police about my sister and how she had fallen in love with a ‘magical being’ from another world. I didn’t want them to think she was nuts. I wanted them to paint a perfect picture – how she was a beautiful, innocent and talented young lady cruelly snatched away from her loving family. It didn’t matter that I might be able to help them track down her murderer, I couldn’t let them destroy her memory or turn her into the villain of her own story. I could see the headline now: Crazy, mentally-ill girl abandons family, probably moved to Tasmania.

At night I often replay our last conversation, and when I do, I always add an ‘I love you’ to the end, hoping that wherever her soul is now resting, she knows how much I love her.

Is it possible that she was kidnapped by a maniac? Perhaps. But I knew he was more likely to have been a ghost, a figment of her imagination, my sister well and truly on her way to crazy. It’s also possible that she may have suffered a psychotic break and hit her head while walking along the river, her body sliding unheeded and unnoticed below the water. Or could she be wandering the streets right now, everyone passing her off as a homeless drug addict? Would she turn up in a few years’ time, unwashed and unrecognisable, nothing but skin and bones?

Where are you, Sybil? And why did you have to go and leave me here alone?

I do occasionally wonder if she was telling the truth. What if she did find a portal to a different world? What if magic is real? It’s my favourite scenario for her, that she is living right now in a brand new, exciting world filled with dragons, monsters and magic.

I sighed and looked up. The storm I was watching was angry, the clouds purple and green, a striking contrast to the blue sky overhead. It was a spectacular sight and I could see a few people taking photos of the storm from across the road, an older couple were even holding up a selfie stick. I almost giggled, it was the funniest thing I’d seen all day.

Watching the man fumble with his selfie stick, I imagined myself doing the same thing, stepping out into the rain, waiting for the build-up of static electricity that would signal a lightning strike. Could the same strange event that happened to my sister happen to me? I shook my head and laughed. I’d have to be insane to do something like that. But still, the storm beckoned.

Where are you? Come into the storm. My sister’s voice carried on the wind, my ears straining as I listened to my sister calling to me. Was I really hearing her or was I making up the words? I knew she was most likely dead, her body under the ground, hidden for all time. But… she could be alive, waiting at the edge of the storm, waiting for me.

I grabbed my cap and slipped it over my ponytail, then tightened my hoodie around my neck. I didn’t really know what I was doing as I slipped down the stairs and gently pulled open the back door. The door screeched as a rumble of thunder shook the house. I waited, holding my breath. I could hear my mother chatting away on the phone in the kitchen, oblivious to my escape. I’d have to hurry, the storm was getting closer, I didn’t have much time.

A force I didn’t recognise compelled me forward and into the backyard, but I paused as I rested my hand on the back gate. It was cooler outside then I had expected, the flurries of wind brushing my hair to and fro across my face. I tucked the loose strands under my hat, shrugging my shoulders against the chill as I pressed on the latch of the back gate, stepping out into the laneway.

The sky grew darker as I continued forward, fat droplets of rain seeping through my thin, lightweight hoodie and onto my skin. If I’d been prepared I would have had my raincoat ready to go, but as it was, they were kept in a closet next to the kitchen – and therefore in full view of my prying, suspicious mother.

I was almost at the park when I turned away. It was a ridiculous idea, running out into a thunderstorm with the imagined whispers of my sister’s voice lingering in my ears. What was wrong with me?  Why would I put myself in harm’s way in the pursuit of an impossible reality? There was no such thing as magic and there would be no happy ending to my sister’s disappearance. Even if she had left me behind and slipped into another world, how would I ever know?

I glanced once more into the storm, my heart yearning for a sign, for anything to signal that my sister was alive. The back of my neck began to tingle, lightly at first like a gentle caress, before a wave of pins and needles swept down my arms. What was going on? Was this my sister calling to me from beyond the grave? And then I heard a whispered voice carried on the wind, there you are, don’t move.

Before I could take another step a bright explosion of light blinded my eyes, a crack of thunder reverberating around my body. When I opened my eyes I was on the ground, my cap resting in a puddle a few meters away, the rain gliding freely through my hair and over my face. I was shaking as I stood up, wiping the grass and dirt from my clothes. I couldn’t see where the bolt of lightning had hit the ground. The trees were waving unharmed in the wind, the ground devoid of any strange markings. I took in a deep breath. What on Earth was going on? Was that a sign? Was my sister alive?

‘Holy moley! Are you alright?’

I turned around and caught sight of the man with the selfie stick running up toward me. He was breathing, in short, gasping breaths, his eyes wide with shock. Behind him I could see the woman, her eyes wide with fright

‘Um… I think I’m okay.’ But my voice was trembling. I checked my body one more time, patting my arms and legs, relieved to see that everything was in its usual place.

‘I thought you were a goner. I’m pretty sure you were directly under that bolt of lightning.’ The man said, rubbing his chin and shaking his head.

The woman reached forward and touched my arm. ‘You should probably go to the hospital.’ 

‘No please don’t call them, I think I’m fine.’ As I said the words I could see a few more people coming up towards us.

‘So where’d your friend go? Did he run off? Is he OK?’ It was the man speaking this time, looking around through the rain.

I blinked. ‘I’m sorry what?’

‘Your friend, where’d he go?’

‘Ah, there was no one here but me in the laneway.’ I looked around, but there was no one in sight.

The man shook his head. ‘I’m sure there was someone else here, standing next to you, reaching out over your head. I’m not sure I got it on camera as we were focusing on the clouds.’ The man was swiping furiously on his phone, frowning as he brought up a photo. ‘Whoa. Here, look’.

I leaned over and glanced at the screen, not comprehending what I was seeing. It looked like the man had taken a photo mid-strike, but it was overexposed and filled with white light. ‘I can’t really see anything.’

The man jabbed at the middle of the screen. ‘Look, you’re both right there.’

I peered closer. I hadn’t noticed it at first, but there was definitely a vague outline of two people in the middle of the photo, surrounded by a halo of white light. One was taller than the other, his arm outstretched over someone wearing a cap. Me. I stepped back and touched my hand to my heart. This was crazy, it couldn’t be real. A flurry of goosebumps rushed over my shoulders and down my arms. ‘That’s me. I think.’

The man was nodding, excited. ‘And your friend. I’ll have to send this photo to the news station, it’s incredible. I’m surprised you’re not dead.’

But I couldn’t say anything more as I started to walk away. I had to get away from here, now.

‘Wait, what’s your name? They’re gonna want to know who you are, you just survived a lightning strike! It’s a miracle!’

‘I’m sorry!’ I mumbled as I pushed past them. ‘I don’t want anyone to know who I am.’

The man was saying something else but I couldn’t hear him, only the sound of my feet slapping on the rain-soaked pavement. I didn’t stop running until I could see the familiar sight of the back gate to my home. I slowed down and took a few slow, deep breaths. I’d almost been hit by lighting, but then someone had appeared out of nowhere, shielded me and then just as miraculously disappeared.  What the hell was that all about?

My arms and legs were still tingling with adrenaline as my chest tightened with emotion. My sister hadn’t been lying. Magic was real, it had to be.

I was still leaning on the back gate, ignoring the rain trickling down my back when I heard footsteps coming up the laneway behind me. They were slow and even, not at all like the man with the selfie stick. The sound stopped and then I heard a low, deep voice.

‘So you’re the one.’

I shivered and turned around, eyes widening as I caught a glimpse, of him.

Part 2

 

186 thoughts

    1. Hey Mia! I love the offerings on your blog, and your layout is a standout! In regards to short stories, I reckon just go for it and post whatever you like and go from there. You’ll get some wonderful feedback and tips that will only help you improve your writing (at first I was a bit affronted by the advice, now I relish it).
      I post short stories in whatever genre or format I’m interested in at the time, whether it be romance, fantasy, speculative, crime etc… I try to keep my shorts under 3,000 words, but ‘The One Left Behind’ is now a novella! The one benefit to a personal blog, is you’re free to break the rules! Serials are a great idea 🙂
      When you get around to posting a story, feel free to share the link here so I can read it! xx

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  3. Such an intriguing short story this is. You sparked my curiousity from the first paragraph. I love the way you write. Your clarity and flow immerses the reader in a world you have created with vivid words. I’ve got no choice but to follow your great blog. I’m hooked. :D.
    By the way, thanks for following Geoidhead. The gesture is much appreciated. 🙂

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  4. Pingback: The One Left Behind: Part 3 – Milly Schmidt
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  53. I quite like there being in stories a sort of ambiguity of genres. It certainly kept me hooked in the beginning, as I was reading your story: are we in some sort of psychological drama where the girl is gonna impose her madness on her sister and their family? Or, my favourite, one of fantasy. A lovely read, I hope there’s more to follow 😉

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    1. Thank you!! When I first started writing this one, I wasn’t sure if it was going to turn into a psychological drama or a fantasy! I suppose I left the ending open enough that it could be either 🙂

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      1. Just read it (eventually)! You’ve done a great job, particularly like the scene in the car when she starts to harbour doubts about theo and then things quickly turn on their heads. I don’t know why… But I’m getting a kind of ‘City of Bones’ vibe… Possibly a similar style of writing, which can only be a good thing! 😉

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  54. While it is short and simple, it makes for an easy read and is quite gripping. Great writing! =)
    I’m new to wordpress and wanted to see what other people write so thanks for the experience and I hope my writing improves to be even a fraction of what yours is!

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  55. A very good story.
    I liked the ending very much.
    You definitely have to keep writing.
    By the way, I’m new to all this WordPress thing, I’m trying to build a community of writers around me so we can help each other grow, is it possible here?
    Can someone like review my story?

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      1. Don’t lose heart, Milly! You’ll get there someday! Tough stuff only make you tougher! Just imagine for a moment the day, when you casually sign ten copies of your work and distribute it to the lucky few among thousands thronging the book store! Let that image motivate you and empower you to continue what you do best! We are all here to support you! Go get’em gal!

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  65. Really enjoyed this, Milly. Love the mysterious mood of the piece. Who knows whether the magic of this world will turn out to be benevolent or not for Monty…

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    1. Thank you!! I would LOVE to write more of this one – and I think I will. I might have to wait until after NaNoWriMo though as I’ve decided to take part this year 🙂 I was going to use this idea, but another one took root and wouldn’t let go haha

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  69. This was the first story of yours I’ve read, and I wanted to tell you how great I thought it was! Your pacing, descriptions and imagination were all spot on; they really drew me in.

    Followed, and looking forward to reading more! Is there a story you’re particularly proud of?

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  72. Ooooh! I love the twists in this piece, and the cliffhanger (though if you wanted to write a whole book on this I’d read it and not complain 😉 )

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  73. Crazy can be magical, because the imagination can often be a little weird, but many good things can stem from it. I like the mix of G-d, Wizard of Oz, the life and death elements present in the story. I still want to know what happened to the sister?

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      1. I would definitely read whatever followed if you chose to write it. But if you chose to leave it like it is, it’s great too, because it lets the reader interpret the story however they want. However, can you briefly tell us here in the comment section what happens to her. Is there really a magical world or is she dead?

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        1. I always wanted to leave the ending open with two possible conclusions (the reader can decide which one they believe is true): 1) Sybil was murdered and everything Monty experiences about ‘magic’ isn’t real (unreliable narrator who is imagining a better ending for her sister) or 2) Sybil did meet someone magical and is now living in a parallel universe. Everything Monty experienced really happened and in the end, she too goes through the portal to be reunited with her sister.

          I prefer happy endings and I would choose a magical world over one rooted in reality any day. I always intended for option 2 to be the real one 🙂

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  75. I general I liked it. It played wonderfully with the dichotomy between fantasy is real and something much more sinister but more real happened. Just like the stories we used to tell to little kids in the age of the Grimm brothers. The ending is the best part. It’s open-ended and makes you wonder if the fantasy could be real.

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    1. Thanks ☺ I had no clue where this story was going to go while I was writing it – if Monty’s sister was murdered or that the magic was real and she was alive and happy in another world. In the end I decided a life-of-Pi-like ending was more fitting ☺

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