I Could, And Maybe I Will

• Amelia Goldberg, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2013

I could write a story about a vampire being banished from the dark lands because of the murder of his brother, or how a boy, after 15 years, discovers he's a werewolf and the heir to a whole underground kingdom. I could tell you the story of a fallen angel, and how he came to be broken and shattered or how the heart of a mad king was used in a potion of eternal youth. I could write up whole imaginary civilizations that crumbled to the ground in the blink of an eye and how dragons roamed the land, devouring everything in sight, how mermaids are not lovely and nice, but are instead evil creatures which capture sailors for their own use, who get their comeuppance, or how King Rutham sat upon his throne for a century, slowly turning to stone, waiting for his wife to return home with his unborn son.
But I won't write those stories, not yet, not while I have my own story to tell. True, it won't have vampires or werewolves, dragons or kings, not really, though in my mind, they are all as real as you and I.
My story is about a 15 year old girl, who believes she is much older, but at heart is much younger, who believes in God sometimes, but despises him at others. Who sings herself to tears and plays the piano to her heart's content. Who loves all of her friends but hates most of them, who imagines up whole fantasy realms, dreams of great battles with which swords, claymores and bows are used. Who believes that half of her school is made up of the supernatural, and who's heart, hopes, dreams and aspirations were all shattered and lay broken and bleeding on the floor for a period of time.
Yes, this is my story, my life, my thoughts and hopes, dreams and aspirations, my heart my soul and my beliefs.
I will not keep this locked inside of me anymore; I will not let this take control of me any longer. I want to spill my heart out on paper, to know what's it’s like not to have a care in the world, to not be weighed down by friends and family, and most of all, my heart.
I don't expect a standing ovation for this, I don't expect smiles, tears and laughs, though I would like them, very much so, but I hope, that you will read this through to the end, like I have with my friends, my enemies and my family.

It's always hard, trying to figure out where to start. Do I start from the beginning? Maybe I should start half way and then skip backwards and forwards, telling you how I got there. Or maybe I should start from the end, working backwards, like only the very few can master doing.
Whichever way I start, I will be telling the same story.
So here goes. Take a deep breath and...
Jump.