National Poetry and Writing Month: Day 16

Today it’s time for something a little different. Heh-heh, not really a poem, but something still of writing!

You’ve probably guessed it by now: “You’re going to write a story now.” You are correct, but only to a certain extent! Yes it’s going to be a story BUT you won’t get to read it all at once! No! This post counts as yesterday’s, and for today I am going to write a poem! You’ll have to wait until the next day to find out what happens–or will you? Let the tale commence!

(Note: seeing as fantasy with teenage main-characters is my key element, this is going to be one of those)

July 1st

Hi. My name’s Evelyn. I’m fifteen. This is my diary, of course, so over the course of the year or however long I have space for you’ll read about a year–or however long–of my life. Granted, I’m sure it’ll be boring if you’re used to reading fast-paced fantasy, but if you’re me, these events might be whirlwind adventure! Whatever. I don’t care. Read or not, I’m going to write about it.

July 5th

So I missed about four days; who cares? July 4th was pretty straight-forward, anyway, so I don’t think I’m going to bother about that.

Well, summer’s off to a pretty awesome–would I say start? Nah, a pretty good–existence, rather. It’s warm, I’m with my family and friends, stargazing through our telescope each night (shooting stars and nebula last night!), beach runs every weekend…yeah, pretty awesome. Well, since it’s after 10:00 PM, good night for now.

July 15

Dad came down with a flu or something of the sort. He’s not too bad now, just fever and a little exhaustion. Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.

July 20

Dad still isn’t well. He hasn’t gotten well, but worse. His temperature is around a hundred, dropping at night, but still high. Okay, so all that’s the problem is that he’s got a fever and he’s barely awake most of the day, but he’s just sick with the swine flu or something! Honest! People getting seriously ill only happens if it’s–not in my house. I know, that’s a pretty lame excuse, but nobody, not my brothers, not me, nor either of my parents have had anything worse than a major cold since I was little and had chickenpox. 

July 22

His fever’s at 102 degrees. It’s pretty scary. Neither my brothers nor I are allowed in his room. Each night I hear him crying out from heat, and sometimes mom helps him into the shower so he can cool down and get a little sleep.

What’s going to happen to him???!

July 25

I found a book that mom was reading. It’s called, “The Tree of Life”, published in 1987. When I was flipping through it, I found that the “tree of life” is supposedly located somewhere in Meso-america. And yesterday I heard mom making a couple calls in Spanish and sending a few letters to Panama. Here’s a passage from the book:

“The legendary Tree of Life was revered by all the village peoples, as is discernible from their scripture and hieroglyphic  pictures. Leaves taken from the boughs of the Tree and steamed as tea in pure spring-water for seven days are said to have the magical ability to cure any ail: illness, wounds, loss of blood, et cetera.”

I think mom believes that the tree exists.

July 27

Mom is definitely sure that the Tree of Life is real. She’s even got vague directions from a native of Mexico. I bet she’d go, but she’s got to take care of dad while he’s sick. Plus, with nobody earning the money, I doubt there’s enough for round-trip plane tickets to Central America with five people eating, drinking, and using electricity, water, and phone-minutes. 

Frankly, and between you and me, I doubt she has a choice.

August 5

As I write this, I’m on a bus. I’ve spent the last few days trying to earn enough money to get a ticket to Mexico, and I have it. I stole mom’s letter and I’m packed up. Don’t worry, I left a message for her on my bed, and I took my cell-phone and charger in case I need to call someone. I’ve never traveled on my own before.

I’m going to find the Tree of Life. If it exists, I’ll find it, even if I have to scrape through thousands of acres of rain-forest to find it. I’ll bring a bough thick with leaves home, and I’ll cure dad. Surely selling the leaves can earn me money back home to the US, can’t it?

Hmm…interesting story, huh? This was inspired by “Story cubes”. The cubes have pictures on each side of the dice, and each picture is different. Of course, to keep from spoiling the story right now, I’m not going to tell you what pictures I used.

I’m off to catch up to today!



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