Prompt #1: The Green Bag

Today's prompt, taken from
Prompt Generator:
"One day on the playground at school, you see a large green bag. Suddenly, the bag begins to shake. Write a story about what happens next."



Billy and I sat on the field at school. It was mid-May, and Summer break was right around the corner. We sat threading dandelions into wreaths and necklaces. The other boys teased Billy for doing "girly stuff" with me. Truth is, I think Billy was sweet on me. That was okay, because I was sweet on him, too. The sweetest sweet.. the kind of sweet only 10-year olds can feel towards one another.

Billy was smaller than the other boys. He was really thin, with wispy white-blond hair that fell over his eyes when he looked down. His eyes were pale grey. His skin very white. The other kids sometimes teased him about being a vampire, because he was so starchy white. But I told them that was crazy-talk. Obviously he wasn't a vampire. He sat outside in the sun with me at every recess. Billy had told me he was very sick. I didn't understand what it was, but I was the only one he told. I guess the teacher and the principle must have known, too. He never acted sick, though sometimes he didn't come to school. I didn't care that he was small and pale, I just knew that he was quiet, and shy, and very nice to me, and he was my best friend.

Today we sat farther back in the field than usual. A couple of the boys from class had started throwing dirt at us, taunting Billy. So, we moved. Now the playground was way on the other side. We sat closer to the cafeteria, near the dumpsters and the fence. I was bent over, intently stringing stem through stem of the necklace I was working on. Billy was staring out toward the parking lot where the dumpsters were. His voice, so uncommon it startled me, spoke up. It was a deep voice, shocking for the frail-looking boy it came from. But soft- ever so soft.

"What do you think it is?" He asked me.

I looked at him, not knowing what he was talking about. He had a pile of forgotten dandelions sitting in his lap. I looked down at my own.

"It's going to be a necklace." I said, assuming he was asking about mine. I held it up and inspected my work. It looked good to me. He turned to look at me, his grey eyes capturing mine and pulling them into his.

"Not your necklace. I can tell what that is. It's going to be gorgeous." He had such a way with words, and always spoke so smartly. "That." He said, turning his gaze back to whatever had held it before, and pointing a long, thin finger toward the dumpsters.

At first, I stared dumbly toward the garbage cans. Lunch had gotten over earlier, and they had been throwing out all the garbage and leftovers. I didn't see what he was talking about. Then, a green bag that had blended right in with the can and the grass jumped. I thought I had imagined it at first, but then it moved again. Something was shuffling around inside. It didn't look like it was fighting. Just moving.

"Ooohhh..." I whispered, my dandelions forgotten. I stood up and they fell silently to the ground. I leaned forward, trying to get a closer look, without having to actually get closer. "Maybe it's a kitty that got stuck underneath the bag when they threw it out?" I guessed.

Billy stood, too, but he actually started to walk over. I cautiously followed, staying behind him. We got a few feet from the bag. It was obvious from here that whatever it was, was actually inside the bag- not under it.

"It's not under; It's inside." Billy stated the obvious. I nodded my agreement, though I doubt he saw it, since I was still peering around from behind him.

The bell rang, and I jumped, startled. Billy didn't jump. I don't think he heard it at all. I tugged at his shirt. "We need to go back to class, Billy. We can tell the teacher to send someone to look."
"I'm not afraid." he whispered back. I thought it a strange response. I hadn't called him scaredy cat. Heck, I was the one being a scaredy-cat, though I didn't know why.

"I know you aren't, but we're going to get in trouble if we are tardy." I whispered back. Neither of us could take our eyes off the shifting bag. It was mesmerizing.

"You go. I'll go tell the principle." He said. "Tell the teacher I'm at the principle's office so I don't get in trouble." He was so smart.

"Okay." I said. I backed away from him. He didn't move. I wondered if he was actually going to go to the principle's office. But he said he would, so he must. I ran toward class as they blew the whistle to go in.

I sat in the class, watching the door, waiting for Billy to come back to class and let me know what happened. I had told Ms. Motison he had gone to talk to the principle. She had nodded and said okay. She probably thought it had to do with whatever sick he had. I couldn't concentrate on my times tables. I hated math anyway, and now I really couldn't focus. Ms. Motison didn't say anything to me, though she did look at me a lot.

I sat staring out the window. An hour had gone by, and we had moved onto spelling. I tried to focus on my spelling words, but my eyes kept flicking to the door, which still hadn't moved. As I tried to think of a sentence to go with the word "fascinate", to which I was debating on saying something about the bag, the phone on Ms. Motison's desk rang. She picked it up, and I could hear her soft "Yes." "I see." and "Oh, my." She then grunted an okay and hung up. Her face was pale, and her eyes flipped up to mine, then quickly looked away. My heart began to race, and my hands became clammy. I knew in my heart that the phone call had concerned Billy, and that he wasn't coming back to class today. Finally, Ms. Motison gathered herself and stood in front of the class. She "ahem"ed and asked for our attention, please. I felt the butterflies take flight in my stomach, and as she started speaking, I sank into my chair while my head went numb.

"I need to make an announcement, and it's not an easy one." She stammered. "That was Mr. Dillion on the phone." Mr. Dillion is the principle. "I am sure most of you noticed that Billy did not return from recess with the rest of you. He had instead gone to see Mr. Dillion. Apparently, Billy collapsed while waiting in the principle's office. They have just taken him to the hospital."
I hadn't even heard the ambulance. Didn't they always have their sirens going?

"I would like to switch the rest of the day's activities. Instead, we will be making cards for Billy while he is in the hospital." Ms. Motison said.

Jeremy, one of the bullies who especially liked to pick on Billy spoke up. "The sun finally got to him. Wimp." he laughed. A few of the other boys Jeremy ran with snickered, but the rest of the class just stared at Ms. Motison. Ms. Motison turned red. "Jeremy, that kind of talk will NOT be tolerated in this classroom. Billy is sick, and you will not speak with him like that in my presence. You may take your belongings to Mr. Dillion and have a talk with him. I will let him know you are coming."

Jeremy balked, and stood up. He sneered at me as he walked toward the door. "Vampire lover." The door slammed behind him.

"The rest of you, go ahead and clear your desks, and gather the art supplies." She sat at her desk, and made a quick call to the principle, speaking rapidly and quietly about Jeremy.

The remainder of the afternoon was a blur. I remember gathering stuff to make a card, but I just stared at it, not knowing what to say. It sounded like whatever sick Billy had was finally showing itself. I did not know how long he was going to be in the hospital. I did not know what happened. I wanted to make his card especially special, like he was to me. I wanted it to be perfect. But I couldn't figure out what to say. I didn't have a way with words like he did. I tried to think of what he would say if it were me in the hospital. Something perfect and beautiful, I'm sure.

My card was still sitting on my desk untouched when the bell releasing us from class for the day rang. I sat staring at it while the rest of the kids shuffled on their bags and left. Ms. Motison came up to me.

"Are you doing okay, Jenny?" she asked. I didn't respond, but big wet tears started to flow out of my eyes and I couldn't stop them. She patted me on the back, and then pulled me to her to hug me as I wept for something I couldn't quite understand. "It will be okay. Your mom is on her way to pick you up. I think she is going to take you to see Billy. Won't that be nice?" I nodded into her bosom, wondering if it would be nice or not. What if he was hooked up to cords and wires? What if he was all bloody? Would he recognize me? Would he be able to talk?

I got my stuff and walked out toward the parking lot to wait for my mom. It always took her a while to get there from home, and she never left in enough time to get there on time. I glanced over to the dumpster area, which I had forgotten about. I startled, as I realized the green bag was gone. For some reason, the bag being gone scared me more than it being there had. I wondered if it's removal had something to do with Billy getting sick. Maybe it was a top-secret thing, and now Billy was being punished for finding it. I walked over to where it had been. The ground was moist where it was, but I couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Just wet grass. The grass was always wet near the dumpsters, and usually smelt bad too. Today was no different.

A car honking broke my reverie, and I looked up to see my mom in our truck, waving for me to come along. I got in, and she looked at me so sad like. "How are you doing, kiddo?" she asked, ruffling my hair. I shrugged. I didn't want to look at her. I didn't want to cry anymore. "Well," she said, shifting the truck into gear. "Let's go see if we can't see how Billy is doing."

We drove to the hospital. My mom was quiet for most of the ride, which I was thankful for. When we got to the hospital, my mom went and spoke to the lady at the counter, who pointed us to a room to wait in. It had large chairs that were comfy, but the room still smelled like sick. Hospitals always smell like sick. I sat in the chair, my feet barely touching the floor, swinging them back and forth, wondering why they didn't make the rooms smell more like roses or cookie, when the door opened and Billy's parents came in. My mom hugged Billy's mom. Then her dad. Both of them had red eyes, but they didn't look like they were falling apart. Maybe that was a good sign.

Finally Billy's parents turned their attention to me. I had only met them a couple of times; Once for my birthday party, and once for a bbq they invited my family to. His mom smiled at me. "I think Billy is awake, Jenny-dear. I'm sure he would like to see you."

Toddle

I made this great decision, and here I am, still not writing. I had every intention of doing so yesterday, but then got all caught up in chopping my Christmas tree to bits, and cleaning. I am constantly finding stuff to clean. I'm completely ADHD that way... I can't tell you how many times I walked into the kitchen to make myself breakfast, and found dishes to wash, or something to rearrange, or laundry that needed to be taken to the laundry area, then of course laundry to start, but there was stuff in the dryer, so that needs to be folded and put away, then I clean the bathroom, then while I'm washing my hands I remember I was hungry, so I go back to the kitchen, and open the freezer, realize I need to take inventory, and do some rearranging, and ... well, you get the point. I started trying to make myself something to eat at around 10am. I think it was closer to 1pm before I finally ate. LOL! The craziest part about it is- my house is still in need of cleaning!

ANYWAY! I've got ideas floating in my head. Different stories swarming around in there. Not anything I would write here. That is what my www.thaydra.com site is for. This is for what I do for the writing prompts, and the daily writing that I've been saying I'm going to start. Uh-hem. I digress..

My thoughts and stories are like toddlers, toddling around in there, being all crazy, falling over one another, laughing and poking and pulling hair, pooping and painting the walls with it, eating and spitting and throwing the food on the floor because it's absolutely hysterical when the dog licks it up. Yep, that is my thought process. Sometimes I can round them up and get them to sit quietly for a moment. Pop on some Barney or Wiggles or Mr. Roger's Neighborhood. But mostly they are just wild, insane banshees, totally and utterly out of control!

I'll get around to this eventually! Maybe tonight! I make no promises.