Stolen From Heart

• Jeff Laconico, Grade 7, H G Weaver Middle School
• Short Story
• 2001

Finalist in the '2001/2002 Schools Short Story Competition - Magic and Mystery Theme' competition

“Ding Dong!” a sound came from the door. Mark swaggered to the door and opened it. Behind the door appeared a famous man that everyone was familiar with. “Good Evening,” the thunder roared behind the man making the already eerie moment weirder.
“May I…….come in? Isn’t this the Story-Telling Contest?” The boy’s gaze seized and he snapped back to reality. “I’m sorry and uh……and yes, come in.”
The man entered and sat in a worn recliner chair. Mr. Prichard then sat to the next man and greeted him. “Oh my! Kenan Jostens, at our contest? It’s truly an honor to meet a mystery artist of your stature! You shall be our first storyteller for our contest this evening.”
“What is your story for tonight, Mr. Jostens?” asked Janet.
The artist stood up and headed for the light switch. The room was silent, only the sound of crickets remained. He turned the lights out and lit a candle. The candidates listened to Mr. Jostens with great enthusiasm. He sat down and began his mysterious tale. “I will tell you a story that came to me in a dream, I call it Mystery Guest.”
“It was raining that night, it rained like it never rained before. David was reading the ending of his book, as he was about to turn to the final page and heard an abrupt noise,” the artist paused. He heard a noise outside. Mark then saw a silhouette of a man in the glowing window. Mark slowly turned to Mr. Jostens. Mark stared deep into the artist’s eyes and the artist stared into his. Mark sensed the fear that eluded the storyteller’s forbidden mind.
Mr. Jostens stood slowly and ran past the door out to the yard with intense speed. The silhouette followed after him and the candidates headed to the front to watch the chasing scene. With his curiosity Mark raced after them and vanished from the eyes of the candidates. Mark ran like he never did before, but soon he started to fall behind and the exhaustion took over him. Soon the other two were gone from Mark’s sight and instead he found himself lost in the dark. He decided to sleep and tried to find his way in the morning.
The next day Mark awoke and tried to recognize where his location was, but he had no clue. Then he saw a book a few yards away from him. He crept toward the book, he raised the book to his eyes and read the table of contents. It had every fascinating story that Jostens took credit for. Then he turned the page and saw something shocking, it said “Written by Harold Heart.” Everything finally became clear to him.
Mark looked up and saw a large tower that indicated his high school. He kept the book by his side and headed for home. He never told a soul about the book, nor saw Kenan Jostens ever again.