I'm planning on entering the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards Competition. The story I am going to submit will most likely be in this format of writing. And I need to know if A. It makes sense and if B. it is a good way to write something. Reviews are appreciated.
~peanut~
“Arielle, let’s get out of here,” I stared in confusion at Ryan, who’s headphones hung around his neck. Music vibrated softly out of the curved little speakers. He was trying to block them out—to forget what was happening. I could hear the shouts that came from Dad and Ellie’s room and the crash of the waves from the beach where we were supposed to be through the screen door leading out to the balcony.
I nodded, not speaking, trying to hear what my dad and step-mom were arguing about this time. I tried to focus on the words, twirling a strand of amber colored hair around my right index finger in concentration.
“…..I don't care what you say, it's my choice…”
“… leave all of that behind, we are a family.” I flinch; Ellie just had to say that. I looked at Ryan, who was wrapping his headphones around his iPod. He wasn’t paying attention to them, or he would have said something.
As Ellie’s voice rose I whispered, “Let’s go,” Ryan grabbed a blanket and quietly we tiptoed out the side door, as it clicked, I sighed in the silence.
The boardwalk loomed in front of us; the orange beach house full of fighting left behind. The wooden planks that made up the small bridge slapped against my bare feet as I ran across, the small nails that hold it together cooler against the tender skin on my feet. Like magic the metal gate swung open as Ryan pressed enter on the keypad. 3…4…1…enter I said in my head, so I was sure to remember on the way back.
Steps lead down to the beach; I could see the flags flying on the flag pole in front of us. Purple and red flags fluttered in the wind, warning of jellyfish and dangerous swimming conditions.
Ryan was first on the snowy sand, but I quickly over took him, taking the lead. I could hear his deep laughter behind me as I waddled over the sandy hills. The sand squeaked under me, giving me more reason to reach the water.
Angry waves crashed against the beach, shattering on the sand with all their might. Down the shore away from the surf Ryan spread out the blanket he took from the house. I walked to him, staying on the firm wet sand near the green-black water that stung against my legs as the tide hit me and spraying me with salty water.
Ryan had already set out the blanket by the time I got there. He had a flashlight beside him and two Cokes laid out. He pushed the flashlight out of the way so I could sit down on the cotton fabric that would keep us from the gritty sand.
We sat silently, watching the sun set behind the condos to the right on the horizon. It was beautiful, pink ice against orange fire. We were sitting far enough away from the water’s edge so that the tide didn't even reach. But as the waves shattered against the snow white sand reflections of peach and salmon painted the shore line where the water touched. Then the tide pulled out and washed the paints back with the ocean water.
Toward the condos on the other end of the beach yelps of little children traveled along the coast, stray jellyfish causing problems.
“Ryan,” I said, breaking the silence. I looked over at him, tearing my eyes away from the sunset. He lied propped on his elbows, staring out at the water. “What do you think’s gonna happen?”
“To whom?” he asked not knowing I was asking more than one question.
“Everyone, to me, to you when you go to live at Mom’s, to Dad and Ellie?” I clarified.
“You,” he told me looking into my russet eyes, “are going finish high school and move on to bigger and better things, you’re also going to buy me a million dollar jet when you become a world famous author.” I tried smile but I couldn't I had to know what else he was going to say.“This whole thing with Dad and Ellie will blow over pretty soon, after this stupid vacation, they’ll probably be argued out.” I nodded, knowing that was probably true, they could never stay mad at each other.
“What about you?” I asked, noticing he had avoided that question.
“I don’t know, Rie,” he answered, “I’m going to try to fix things with Mom, but I don’t know if living with her will help anything.” I understood what he’s saying. It wasn’t his idea to go live with Dad but when he won custody, it was like Mom didn’t exist anymore. We never talked or saw each other; we couldn’t even talk about her. But that was years ago. Now Ryan’s going off to live with her, unbeknownst to our Dad.
“What if he catches you, Ryan, then what?” I asked, a feeling of dread washed over me; if Dad knew what he was doing he would kill him.
“I don’t know Rie, but you don’t need to worry about me, I’m all grown up now, I can take care of my self.”
“You’re not all grown up, Ryan, you’re eighteen, barely. That’s not a grown up.” I snapped, he had started to talk to me like I couldn't understand anything, like he was so grown up I couldn't comprehend it.
“And you’re fifteen, Arielle, stop trying to pretend you know what this is like.” He was mad, I could tell by his voice and the way he said my name. But he was also hurt I could feel it, like he had expected me to go along with everything, never second guessing him. It was almost as bad as the fighting. I reached over him, grabbing the flashlight just in case and made my way back to the house.
I didn't look back as twilight fell.
After that I never saw the orange beach house or Ryan again. He packed up and left that night, not even bothering to come tell me good bye. My father was furious, like I knew he would be. He spent weeks trying to make me tell him where my big brother was. But even I didn’t know; he never told me where our mother was.
The police couldn’t help. When Ellie called them they told her that they wouldn’t be able to call it a missing persons’ case because Ryan was an adult, and left on his own accord so technically he isn’t missing. We just don’t know where his is.
There also are no records that our mother existed after the date of their divorce, just like Dad tried to make us believe when we were younger. The police officers say that she probably changed her name so we couldn’t find her. We couldn’t even look to the child support money for a clue to her destination because the money was always paid in cash.
He never called after that day. But on the day he was supposed to graduate from college, I got a postcard with a picture of the Florida twilight and I knew it was from him.
I am looking at that card now, as I rack my brain for an idea to write about. I haven’t become famous yet, but when I do I hope Ryan will see that as a sign to come back, even if it is just to get his million dollar jet.
