Once Upon a Time

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“Once upon a time –”
Gabby flopped over in bed, burying her face into her pillow. “Not that story, Daddy,” she grumbled into her cotton pillow case.
Thomas White looked from his daughter, her brown curls tousled around her pinking cheeks, to the dog eared copy of Princess Nora Slays the Beast. “Why not, honey?”
She twisted over again, pulling the covers up over her face so that only her small, pinched-looking nose showed over the blanket. “Because I want you to tell me a different story.”
He skimmed over the book shelf beside her bed. “Well which one do you want me to read you?”
“I said tell, Daddy, not read.” She tossed over a second time and started to rummage around under her pillows. Thomas waited patiently for Gabby to reveal a small, twice folded slip of paper. “Tell me the story ‘bout this.”
He took the paper from her small fingers, realizing that it was actually a crumbled up Polaroid. Unfolding it, he saw a much younger Thomas, Tommy in those days, staring back at him. And hefted in his arms was a Juliani piglet.
“So, Daddy, are you going to tell me.”
Thomas smiled down at Gabby who was now sitting up in bed, her little mouth stretched taunt with anticipation. “Of course I will. But you have to let me start with, ‘once upon a time,’ okay?”
She pulled herself back under her blanket, nodding her head anxiously.
“Once upon a time, there was a boy a few years older than you. And he lived on a big farm with Momma and Pa and three big brothers.”
“Just like you and Uncle Mike and Uncle Andy and Uncle Wes did!”
Thomas nodded. “That’s right, honey. Well that boy was the youngest of his brothers and they often liked to make fun of him because of how small he was. He couldn’t move hay bales with them, jump over fences, or even see over the steering wheel of Pa’s truck without sitting on a big stack of phone books.”
Gabby giggled as he stretched his arms out wide. “He must have been really small, huh, Daddy.”
“Indeed he was. But the boy’s Pa though that he needed something to keep him busy on the big farm. So one day, Pa went into town and when he came back, he had four presents in the truck. The oldest brother got a brand new camera. The next got a fine leather hat. To the next, Pa gave a shiny pair of boots. And for the youngest boy, Pa gave him that pig.”
“Wow, Daddy, can I have a pig?” Gabby exclaimed.
Thomas chuckled, scanning over the small room she took in their even smaller apartment. “Maybe one day.” He looked down at the picture again of himself in his overalls, dirt all over his face. “But you see, the pig was quite small and the boy liked that. He named his pig Travis, made him a small collar, and took him on walks like you would with a dog. They were absolutely the best of friends.”
But Thomas’s mind quickly drifted off and he recalled the day he had woken to the sounds of screaming coming from all throughout the house. The barn had caught fire. And he knew that somewhere in the back of the barn, resting in what was meant to be a dog’s bed, had slept his pig. Only a couple of the horses had survived by the time the fire was out that morning.
For days, he dug through the rubble of the fire, searching desperately for a sign Travis had not been lost. Eventually, though, Pa had ordered him to stay away from the debris – had told him that life happens and that eventually he would have to grow up and understand.
Gabby tugged abruptly on her father’s shirt sleeve. “Daddy, why are you crying?”
Thomas wiped at his eyes. “I just keep thinking about how fast you’re growing up. That’s all.”
“Is that the whole story?” She asked, laying back down, squishing her cheek into her pillow.
He nodded. “Now I think it’s time you go to bed. Tomorrow we’ll go look at pigs, okay?”
“Okay,” she sighed, already lost to sleep.
Last edited by lilymoore on Sat Jul 30, 2011 4:56 am, edited 3 times in total.
Never forget who you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.




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Hey Lileh!

This was so sweet. The part about the barn being on fire made me sad though. Poor Travis :(

“Wow, Daddy, can I have a pig,” Gabby exclaimed.


You need a question mark after 'pig'

I think the beginning, when Gabby's rolling around on her bed, was a bit drawn out. I got that you wanted to show how excited she was to hear a story from her dad, but it got a little repetitive when you kept referring to how she was fidgeting on the bed. Maybe you could add in some more descriptions of what she looked like. Was her night dress creased or wrapped around her legs? Were her eyes bright and her face pink with excitement? etc. You don't have to add loads, just a little bit to break up the tossing and turning.

I liked the story the dad told though. The bit about the gifts, with him getting the pig because he was too small to help on the farm, was cute.

Anyway, that's my two pence, seeing as I'm British ;)

Good luck in the contest and I hope this helps a little!

xDudettex
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This story was a very sweet and touching one. I could imagine this as a children's book. Your charaterization of the child, Gabby, was very well done. I could hear the child-like insistence and eagerness through the text.

Nitpicks:
Thomas waited patiently for Gabby to #FF40FF ">reveal a small, twice folded slip of paper.

Weird word choice.

“Once upon a time, there was a boy a few years older than you. And he lived on a big farm with #FF40BF ">momma and #FF40FF ">pa and three big brothers.”

"Momma" and "Pa" should be capitalized. You're using them as names. If you add "a" or "his" before momma and pa, you can keep them lowercased. Your call.

Good luck on Snoinks contest! :D Happy writing!

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This story is so sad! :(

A couple of things... I think you could have drawn out this story a lot more. It seemed really quick and rushed through... not that you would ever rush through to get a story done in time of the deadline... XD

Anyway, another thing that seemed strange... the dad's reaction to the pig. I don't know... when the pet first dies, even if it's a traumatic sort of death, yes it is bad and everything, but if it's that traumatic, there are usually happy memories associated with the thing. Like, moments of happiness. What did the pig do, besides die? Those sorts of things. Besides, psychologically, it would make sense for him to tell the happier memories of the pig to his daughter.

Also, I think you could have described the apartment more and make it interesting so that it helped make the farm land seem more magical than the dingy apartment. Give it some atmosphere, as it were. You could definitely make this story so much better!

Anyway... nice first draft. But I'm curious as to what you can do as far as a second draft. ;)
Ubi caritas est vera, Deus ibi est.

"The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the Master calls the butterfly." ~ Richard Bach

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Hearing these stories makes me realize that I never did anything with my childhood.
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