Writing assignment from eighth grade, two years ago-- "My Most Prized Possession"

[Smittyblack]

This is a story I wrote in eighth grade. The theme was "my most prized possession." Most people wrote about when they lost their glasses and how important it was when they found them again, or about how important their phone is, or their dirt bike, or whatever else. Well, I put a little bit of a twist on mine. Definitely not the best writing, since it was two years ago, but here it is...:


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SCREEEE-BOOM!

That was the last thing I heard before waking up in the wreckage of a Toyota Corolla at the edge of the woods. I crawled out of the car. As far as I could tell, I wasn't even harmed. Not a scratch on my body. And then I looked back, and saw my mom still in the driver's seat. She wasn't moving.

"Mom!" I screamed, running around the car to get to her. I pulled my mother from the driver's seat. She was still breathing. "Mom! Are you okay?"

"I... I can't move my legs," my mother said, struggling to move, using her arms to pull her body forward.

"It's going to be okay, Mom," I said, throwing her arm over my shoulder and picking her up. Then I noticed that her left ring finger was missing from her hand, cut off in the accident. It was sitting on the floor-- or, ceiling, since the car was flipped-- of the car. I slid it into my pocket without saying a word, and walked my mom home over my shoulder.

"Thank you," my mother said after I sat her on the couch. "You're a good son."

"Wow, Mom," I said. It was a bit random, at a time like this. "You never say anything like that to me. Thanks."

That night, as I was going to sleep, I played the crash through my head over and over. My mom was driving. I was in the back seat, because my mother and I had been arguing. Thank God I was, though, or I probably would have gotten injured as well. We'd hardly talked the entire drive, because of the argument. Suddenly, my mom gasped, and grabbed her chest. The next thing I knew, the car broke straight through the street's guard rails and tumbled down a hill. The car flipped a few times, and slammed into a tree.

I shivered thinking about it. My mom could've died. I checked my pocket. The finger was still there. I'd decided right then that I would keep it forever, that way I'd always have a part of my mom with me even after her death, as the thought had terrified me. It was my most prized possession.

In the morning, I got dressed and put my stuff in my pockets-- my wallet, a few pencils, my school ID... and the finger. I went downstairs for breakfast, then hugged my mom. "Love you; bye," I said, and went out to my bus stop. Oddly, my mom was in the same spot on the couch as she was before I went to bed. And she was freezing.

When I got home, my mom asked how my day went, which was unusual. She usually didn't care about anything I did. "Good," I answered, and sat on the couch, quickly becoming irritated by the amount of flies around my head in the room. "Gah, why are there so many flies?" I asked. No reply. I sighed, and went to my room until the next day.

After a week, the house was completely infested with flies. I watched as an ant crawled out of my mother's eye, and then she fell over and thousands of ants and maggots crawled out of her body and entirely covered her.

According to the police and doctors, I'd been hallucinating since the crash. My mother had a heart attack as she was driving, and I'd refused to accept her death all this time, instead thinking that she was alive and talking to me.

But now I'm in a foster home, on medications. And not a single person knows about the finger in my pocket.

[Dante]

Pretty darn good, nice way to pull off the ending, too. I was going to say that the character seemed too calm, given the situation, but when you finish it up, it all fits together perfectly. You definitely have talent in this area, keep it up!

[Mr. SmartyPants]

Hey! That was a pretty good twist! I like it. Keep it up!