Dot: A Short Story

For my "Summer of Short Stories" idea

I don't know who I am, where I am, who you are, or what's going on, but I

do know this. I am not good at anything.

I can't draw. One time I tried to paint but my mind couldn't form the image

and my hand couldn't pick up the brush. The colors I had were hideous, the

paper old and crumbly, and the painting, when I finally painted it, wasn't even

a picture. It was a dot. Just a dot. For this, the people call me Dot.

I can't write a story. They left me in a little room with three macanical

pencils and a whole packet of paper. When they returned a half hour later one

pencil was missing, one in my shoe, and the last in my hand. The whole packet

of paper was ripped to shreds except for one piece in which there was a single

word: dot. For this, the people call me dot.

I can't sing. I tried to, and all that I sang was one high-pitched squeel.

It shattered the windows and broke the man's glasses. I had skrieked only one

word. Dot. For this, the people call me dot.

I can think, though. And I think very well. I remember, though I don't

remember many things, the day I watched the boy do something he called

"homework." I saw the problems, and even though I had no idea what

any of it meant, I already knew the answers before the boy did. I remember

watching him write down numbers and erase. Write, erase, write, think, erase. I

got a headache. I tried to tell him the answer.

When I tried to say "seventy-two" (even though I don't know what a "seventy-two" is) it sounded more like "Ehhhh Ooo." I felt so dumb and began to cry. The woman took me away from the boy, telling me words that I couldn't understand.

I remember the day the woman, the man, the boy and I sat in front of the

box. I loved the box and they let me watch often. It had moving pictures and

words and though I didn't know what was going on, I still loved to watch.

Important, pretty people smiling, animals running around, everything about the

box was magical. One day, while the boy and man were away, the woman let me

watch the box all by myself, though I usually watched with the boy. An idea

occured into my numb mind: I wanted to go into the box. I wanted to be with the

people and go into the magical world. Then, maybe, people could see me on the

box, too!

I don't remember what happened after that, but I do remember being on my

back looking up at the ceiling and the woman running towards me, yelling the

only word I seemed to know.

"Dot!"

She was loud and it hurt my head, but even when she stopped screaming my

head still ached and i reached up to feel it. My fingers touched something warm

and I pulled my hand up to my face I saw something. I didn't know what it was

but I knew it was the color red. I remembered learning that when they tried to

teach me.

 

The last memory I can remember was when once the world got dark at the end

of the day. I never liked that time, I always had to lay in something with

heavy sheets and I always got hot and uncomfortable. The man took one of the

things that they put under my head and put it over my face. I opened my eyes

but I didn't move. I didn't know what was happened and to this day I still

don't. I just remember it getting difficult to breathe and then the thing going

away from my face. The man sat down and started to cry. I remember what he told

me.

"I'm so sorry I even tried. I love you."

And even though I had no idea what he was saying I looked at him, smiled,

and said the only thing I knew how.

"Dot."

Reviews

[Warrior]

Great story telling. This did justice in the realm of getting the message across. Great message. There's lot of times where a story can have a great message to aim for, and have a lot of under lining things but then no one gets it, and if no one gets it, then the point has failed. But in my opinion this did well to get the message across. You made it clear, which is why I think it's good. Keep up the good work. What was also great was that I could imagine the story as I read it, and that is also a strong point of stories. The ability to have the reader imagine it because after all we're reading not watching it, but it was as if I was there as I read this, and that is great. Great visuals and great story telling. It had plot and substance. When you add substance to writing it gets that much better. It gets the reader hooked on it and make them feel as if they are part of it. As long as their is that emotional connection between the reader and the story then it's good. The connection you were able to established in the writing gives the reader a sense of comfortably that they are in tune with the writing. So that way when the writing is over, the reader wants more, and wishes it didn't end. I feel the same way when I watched a movie or tv series that I get so attached to, I never want it to end. And for this writing, I didn't want it to end. You had me hooked, and I am sure everyone else who read it was hooked as well. That is good, that is what you want for people to keep wanting more. The way you put the story together makes me feel like my life is different for that moment in which I read your story. I love it, and it was beautiful. Just keep posting stories like this, and you'll have a good following.