Fiction - Page 2

Márk Kovács

My dear sister,

Laura, I’m writing to let you know I’m fine, don’t worry and don’t cry for me. Please tell mom I didn’t want to disappoint her.

Well, I left Saint Louis. “I’m a member of the Union of Merchant Seamen.” I travel a lot, I go from city to city. I live for my dreams. Now you must be saying: Tom is like our father, he left us too. Laura, you should know, I could no longer live here in this confinement, with our mother’s illusions. Our mother’s constant concern, her eternal will and her particular world about life. I didn’t have to say things. It seemed unimportant to our mother what I was doing, what I wanted to do. I could no longer live detached from the world of reality.  That night when Jim came over for dinner, I shared my plans with him. I wanted to start a new life. I didn’t want to give up on my dreams, life is so short. I was planning for a change. I wasn’t patient, I didn’t want to wait. I wanted adventures. I couldn’t stay here. I didn’t want to work in the warehouse anymore for sixty-five dollars a month.

Laura, are you happy? What does life mean to you? You just sit at home in your own world. You have no friends, no goals, no desires and no dreams, you only have confinement, fear, and the glass menagerie.

My sister, I think I’m like our father. He was called by distance, and I was called by adventures. I liked going to the cinema in the evenings. I sat in the cinema and saw the real world around us on the movie screen: ocean, desert, mountains, people, cultures, countries, adventures. I couldn’t sit in the dark room and just watch and listen. I had to go live the adventures. Laura, I finally feel alive. I am no longer a young man from the warehouse. I walk my way, I make my dreams come true. “I traveled around a great deal. The cities swept about me like dead leaves. Leaves that were brightly colored but torn away from the branches. I would have stopped, but I was pursued by something. It always came upon me unawares, taking me altogether by surprise.”

“Oh Laura, Laura, I tried to leave you behind me, but I am more faithful than I intended to be. Blow out your candles, Laura.”

I want to leave the past behind me.

Good-bye,

Your brother, Tom

Nóra Molnár

Dear Laura!

You are probably wondering why I am writing to you. Well, I think that our relationship can’t end just like this. And I owe you a thank-you.

First, I wanted to thank you for the conversation that we had. No one has listened to my problems in a long time. It felt good to tell you my thoughts, while you were really listening to me. Sometimes I feel like no one cares about me, but you did care.

I am very sorry we did not talk that much in school, because I think that we could have been good friends. I could have helped you find friends. But that’s the past and we can’t change it. In the future we can meet sometimes, but only if my wife doesn’t mind it. I know that it might sound weird that I have to ask for permission from my wife to meet a girl, but I don’t want to lose her.

Maybe we will never talk to each other or maybe we will, who knows? But I will always have that little unicorn, which is an ordinary horse by now, and whenever I look at it, I will remember you.

I hope you find a man who loves you so much and makes you believe that youare  worth so much and have a great life, which you deserve.

I am sorry that Tom left you, but I believe in you and in your mother, Amanda, and I think that you two will be fine, because you are strong women.

And last, but not least, a piece of advice; stop underestimating yourself. I know that I already mentioned it to you in our last conversation, but it is important, because you are a smart and beautiful young lady who could do anything if she put herself into it. So, start believing in yourself.

Thank you for everything, Blue Roses! Have good luck for the rest of your life!

Yours faithfully,

Jim

Hanna Abigél Algay

My name is Brian West, I´m from Los Angeles, and I’m turning 26 this year. Currently I’m attending University.

Last year, in May, I met my girlfriend Juliette at a Starbucks café when I stopped by for a quick study session. She was sitting at the table next to me, and in my study break I caught her glancing at me. I remember wondering how someone could be this beautiful and how such a pretty soul could look at someone like me. After completing my task, I packed up my things and left, and the next day I returned at the same time, hoping that she would be there. My hopes were realized, and after a week of talking, we finally started dating and now have been officially together for almost a year now.

I haven’t written in my journal for a long time. Today is my 32nd birthday, and my dear Juliette is currently six months pregnant with our twin boys, and we are looking forward to being parents. I want to propose to her after she gives birth, and I already planned everything.

Last week we moved, and while moving, I found this little journal in one of the boxes. It’s so good to read back on how I felt and what I experienced in those days. Right now I´m 45 years old and am a proud dad of two very playful boys. We love them so much, my beautiful wife and I.

I’m at the hospital; at the moment I´m 68 years old. I have always been frightened of being as ill as I am now.  I’m writing in this little book to try to calm myself down, but it’s not working. I don´t want my story to end here. I feel like I still have my whole life ahead of me, but I don´t. As I’m writing this, I feel an unbearable pain in my chest and my left arm. That’s the way I will die.

As these thoughts enter my mind I wake up in another hospital bed. I look at my hands, and they don’t have their usual wrinkles or that scar I got from cooking with my wife at that old barbecue. They look young, and so does my mother, who is cheering beside my bed.

They tell me that I, Brian West, am 15 years old and just woke up after two years of being in a coma.

Sára Forgács

My name is Natalie Collins and I am here to share the most shocking day of my life. I am a 22-year-old girl working in a café as a college student who’s pretending to have a normal, uneventful life, but with this surprising arrival, everything turned out differently.

It started on the 20th of February. I woke up and quickly got dressed because I was already late for class. When I was running out of my apartment a letter stuck to the sole of my shoe, which I only noticed the moment I sat in the taxi. I honestly thought it would be a lucky day after I got a ride as soon as I left the building on such a busy day in New York city. The thought of reading the letter didn’t really excite me, so I put it away.

It was about two in the afternoon when I arrived at work, where I bumped into my friend Cassie, who asked why I was late from school. I only said that I had got home a few minutes before midnight the previous day, although the real reason I was away stayed secret.  After she left, a man pushed me, and I hit my head on the ground. I thought it was an accident, but he just stood over me and said I should read the letter, then disappeared. I ran up to my bag and opened the letter. It said: ˝I’m back to finish what we started!˝

I was horrified; the worst was that I knew who wrote it. I searched for my mother in the evening, but the previous day I had been told I would lose everything if I turned her in, so I was just standing speechless waiting for her to talk instead. I found the courage after ten minutes and told about my day. She wasn’t even surprised, which showed that she obviously knew about him. I was furious about the fact that they were planning to break the law again. I couldn’t believe how she could still be so madly in love with a thief, thus I lied so I could get away and immediately went to the police station and reported them for a robbery.

I was lying on the bed, trying to sleep, when I heard a voice calling me. My pulse was so high and I was so dizzy from the painkiller for my head that I didn’t move. The man from the café stepped into my room. He said I would get what I deserved, then punched me in the face, and the last thing I remembered was sitting in a cell with my mother for robbery.  It was my dad.

Zaránd Lánczi

I had always dreamed of owning a vintage car. My obsession with classic cars had been inspired by my grandfather, who used to tell me stories about his 1969 Dodge Charger. When I found a dusty, forgotten garage at the end of an empty country road, I knew my dream was about to come true.

The garage was open, and there wasn’t anything around it. But inside the garage was a beautiful old Chevrolet El Camino. I took it home and spent months restoring it to make it look like new. It was a good activity, and I spent hours and days working on this project.

Finally, the day came when I finished the car. The carbureted 6.5l V8 engine sounded so good, it was elegant and savage at the same time.

The next week something unexpected happened. A local car enthusiast club organized a vintage car show in the nearby town, and as I turned the corner, the entire town was about to watch the car meet, and I was so proud. The crowd cheered as I entered the show, and I got an award, a trophy for the best restoration. My dream had come true, and I had found a new community of car enthusiasts.

As I was walking through the car show, staring at other classic beauties, a gentleman came up to me. He was the owner of a classic car restoration shop and offered me a job as a restoration specialist. I accepted the offer with a big smile on my face, and my hobby quickly turned into a full-time career.

From that day forward, I spent my days restoring and tuning classic cars, just as I had always dreamed.

Donát Balogh

Once upon a time there was a young and happy bird who lived with his family. He loved flying. The first time he tried to fly he was scared, but time passed and he learned how to fly. He felt free.

One day the bird was flying when a big storm came, so he hid in someone’s backyard. The bird was exhausted and scared, so he closed his eyes and fell asleep. He woke up. He didn’t know where he was. He looked around. He was in a house in a cage. He must have been captured while he was sleeping. The cage was so small that he couldn’t even fly. He was really sad. Months, years passed.

The bird grew sadder and sadder. He missed his family, but most of all flying. The dad of the family felt sorry for the bird and decided to let him out. As he opened the door, the bird opened his wings and flew out the window.