This past fall, Frost writers were challenged to write a story inspired by a photo from a predetermined list. It’s safe to say that they were able to take this abnormal prompt to new heights! Out of dozens of brilliant entries, three were selected as winners. Keep reading to discover the magic that they were able to produce!
1st Place Winner: Untitled by Maisie S.
I gasped for air, as my eyes opened, revealing a river that gushed over my body. I stared up at the sky, admiring the clouds and the fall-colored trees, before I was plunged underneath the water once more. Finally sensing danger, my body jerked back to life and I stood up, the sheer force of the river almost knocking me over once more. I was completely wet. My yellow sweater was soaked, my boots filled with water, and droplets fell off my blonde hair. And for some reason, my body was disproportionately small. Like I was 4 years old all over again. I took off my boots and dumped out the water back into the river.
Suddenly, I felt a violent shove from behind and then my face slammed against the rocky riverbend. A sharp pain surged through my body, followed by the cold sting of the water. I crawl away from my attacker, and notice the water turning red. I look down at my blood-stained hands, and wince in pain. I look up.
Standing above me was a boy with a brown jacket and jeans. He wore a brown hat and stood their in the river.
“Noah? Is that you?” I ask. I felt stupid after asking it. Of course it wasn’t him. Noah died when we were young. He was in the school bus when it drove off the bridge. But those clothes the boy was wearing were exactly what Noah wore the day he died.
“Yes, it’s me you doofus.” Noah spat. He crossed his arms and glared at me, his eyes like knives.
“It can’t be you. You-you died in the crash. It’s been 13 years!”
“And for 13 years you have kept me here! In the back of your mind! Why can’t you move on?”
I stood there, speechless. How was he here? What was he saying about my mind? I was keeping him here? He must have noticed my dumbfounded expression, because his face softened.
“You need to let me go, Ryan.”
I shook my head, profusely complexed. “How are you here? Why am I here?”
“See that bridge up their?” He pointed to the bridge that lay above the river. It was made of cement, and had metal arches that bended in the sky. I know what bridge this is. This is where I cried so many tears it could have filled up the river. Where I gripped my parents coat, as we sat on the river bank, burying my brother. This is where Noah died.
“What about it?”
“That’s the bridge to the afterlife. And I can’t go through it until you let me go!”
“But, but,” Tears started to fall from my eyes. “I can’t.”
Noah put his hand on my shoulder. “Yes. you can.”
Sniffling, I wipe my eyes with my sleeves. “Fine. I-I’ll try.”
Noah smiled at me, and gave me a hug. I wrapped my arms intensely around him, and buried my head into his shoulder. “Goodbye, Ryan.”
2nd Place Winner: Untitled by Freya G.
We’re getting closer. I can hear the monstrous roaring even if I can’t see where it’s coming from. My heart threatens to burst out of my chest and my breath is almost as loud and aggressive as the noise. I struggle again, though nothing is going to help me. The rough straw-like material of the sack I’m in rubs against my body. The ever overwhelming need to escape this situation begins to blanket all of my thoughts, this means that I can’t think of a plan.
I claw at the top of the bag, trying to escape or at least see what is outside. My clawing is heightened because of the pounds of adrenaline pumping furiously through my body. If only I could see out of the bag. Then I would know how close I am to my doom. How close I am to the waterfall.
I keep struggling with no avail, quickly feeling more frustrated and scared. Then I realize what my key out of this bag and into the safety of the forest is. The key to escape my quickly approaching plunge of death. When the people dressed in dark robes with pale, pale skin first put me in the bag, I was clipping my nails. I still have the clipper.
After it is out of my pocket it takes me a few heart pounding tries to successfully nip the straw. I feel like every second I waste now, is a second less I have to live. And it’s probably true. I start cutting a circle just big enough for me to escape through. It feels like it’s taking forever. The waterfall is tremendously loud now. It sounds like it’s right below me. Meaning I only have a few more seconds before I plunge to my death. But I’ve only cut halfway around the circle. I change my approach and I start ripping at the bag. The people in the robes might hear it, but at least I’ll be safe before they know what’s happening and hurry up finishing the process, finishing me. The seconds go by feeling like minutes, no hours, no days! But finally, there’s a hole just big enough for me to squeeze through. So I do.
The first view I get of the scene outside would’ve been breathtaking if I hadn’t been enjoying it with creepy psycho’s who wanted to kill me. The water flowing down the end of the large, flat rock was like a painter’s palette. Shades of blues, whites, purples, and even oranges constructed the sight. Fall was just beginning so the leaves on the trees surrounding the river were green, with the occasional burst of orange and red. The trees around the cliff made it seem like I was looking at it all through a porthole. I tore my eyes away and sprinted into the woods. I ran, and ran until I couldn’t hear the men anymore. Using the cover of the large trees, I was safe… for the moment.
3rd Place Winner: “Hearty Hike” by Natalia N.
I AM MISERABLE! I had the bright idea to go on a hike with my friends because everyone said it was so “beneficial”. “Hiking clears your mind!” They say, “Hiking is so fun and eye opening!” Well maybe for you, not for Maggie Clover! At first it started off kind of nice, a nice speed, even ground and a chill conversation. About an hour and a half in and I am covered in sweat, I can’t stop tripping over the roots and rocks, and my group left me behind! I can’t wait to get to this “breathtaking view”. I wasn’t really paying attention, when my pants got caught on a thorn bush. I yelp thinking it’s an animal and run away, leaving a slit in my pants right above the ankle. I keep running until I reach a slightly torn down picnic and rest stop area.
I spot a porta-potty, and immediately run inside. It is pitch black which is weird considering its day time, not to mention it stinks! I feel a little itching at my ankle and just assume it was from the thorn bush. I probably cut myself or maybe it was poisonous considering my luck, I thought. I whip out my phone and turn on the flashlight, what I see is much worse. A SPIDER! It may have been small but it still scared me, I brushed it off and noticed it climbed the wall. I’m too curious for my own good, and I get an answer as to why it was so dark when I point my phone at the ceiling. The whole ceiling was COVERED in all things spiders- eggs, babies, webs, webbed food, and large ones with huge eyes. I think I set a world record for the fastest person to ever sprint out of a Porta-potty. I keep running even though the spiders are long gone until I eventually catch up to my group. Out of breath, I fall into step with Travis – my best friend.
“Hey Maggie…Wow! You look miserable!”
“Really didn’t notice….” I respond sarcastically
“Well good news is the summit is coming up in like 10 minutes. Twix?”
I gratefully take the Twix bar and continue to talk with Travis. Before I know it the rest of the group has stopped in awe on a small plateau peering between some trees. After everyone is done taking pictures, they decide to head down to the spot they reserved to set up camp. When it’s finally my turn, I feel my jaw fall to the ground. If you look at just the right angle between the trees, you’ll see a beautiful landscape. The vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows of the fall trees. The rushing rapids and the sun turning the waterfall into golden flowing honey. I close my eyes and breathe in. I smell freedom, love, and fall. Now as I think, the struggle was worth this feeling.
Honorable Mention: “The Beyond” by Betty C.
Each year, someone goes to the beyond, where no one has been before. The Beyond, that’s what they call it. No one who goes comes back. No one knows why people go. Each year a 3 year old comes in a basket tied with balloons, and each year, an 11 year old has to leave. No one knows why there is a sign at the docks that says “Each year one enters and one leaves. If the numbers mix then the sky will fall.” Today, I am 11 so I am leaving. All 7 of us are waiting, watching for the balloons. Watching for one day when we’d each have to leave the only home we ever knew. No kid who comes ever remembers anything. No one knows what happens to those who go. A spot, a splatter, a dot in the sky appears. It slowly enlarges to show a basket tied to a lot of balloons. Through the light of the sunset, the balloons seem to blend and shine in the sky. Slowly the basket lands, and we all rush forward to greet the newcomer.
“She’s so cute,” Jade says as she tenderly hugs the kid. Jade is the 10 year old on the island.
“What should we name her?” I said.
“Cyra,” Jade says without a hesitation, “it means sun and she came in the sunset.”
Knowing my job was now done on this island, I turned towards the balloons. Suddenly, leaving the only home I ever knew became painful. I can’t do it. I don’t know what’s next, but I have to go, or else the sky will fall. I close her eyes and walk towards the basket. Each step seems to bring the balloons closer by miles. Eyes filled with tears, I untied the balloons from the basket and held the balloon strings dearly. Madeline, the 9 year old, walks up to me with her eyes filled with tears.
“Be safe. I’ll join you in a few years,” she says.
“I will,” I say.
“Be you and trust your instincts wherever you go,” says Luna, the 8 year old.
“Have faith in yourself,” says Noelle, the 7 year old.
“Know yourself and don’t forget your past,” says Lethia, the 6 year old.
“Trust in yourself” says Alyssa, the 5 year old.
“You got this,” says Evelyn, the 4 year old.
“I will, I will,” I say.
Using my last strength, I kicked off from the floor and started floating upwards. There’s no turning back now. I looked around and saw different shades of red, orange, and pink blend into the sun and the clouds and reflected off the ocean. The smell of sea salt fills the air. Looking down, I waved at the other kids on the island one last time before I went above the layer of clouds. I sank above the clouds and into the mist of the Beyond.
