When it gets serious :"3

This is a random blah-blah I made up the other night. With regard to style, I suppose this is my first shot in children's story, though I don't think this even qualifies for children's story. The style is entirely different from what I had been accustomed to so I suppose it is a children's story in its own way. The intention, however, of writing this piece isn't exactly for the children to read but for us, "young adults", to understand. Whatever. I actually think I made a mistake recently and I have no better way of reminding myself not to do it again than to write something related to it. Enough with my extremely long-ish intro. Enjoy and read well. I mean it. :)

This morning, a large man brings me to a pink room with candy pink wallpaper. He stops and looks at me tentatively. I wonder if he'll speak to me soon. Mama says I should never talk to strangers. Although he looks vaguely familiar, I don't think he'd pass for somebody I really know. The man smiles with his perfect teeth, and hands me two large glass bowls of gums and candy. Only one is mine, he said. The other bowl is for me to take care of while its owner is still on her way. The man leaves me and I start to cry. For a long time I had been staring at the bowls of candy but I do not know which one is for me to take. I want to try them already. The colors pop out from the pretty glass bowls like they are urging me to take a piece. I sit down and lay both bowls on a sturdy table in front of me. After singing my alphabet and reciting my numbers, my eyes resume to staring at the bowls of candy. They both want me to try them, I could almost hear their voices pleading out to me, "Take me! Take me!" I hesitate. The bowl on the right had pink and yellow candies. The one on the left had blue and pink ones. Pink candies! My mouth waters and I check the time. The other girl doesn't arrive yet so I decide to take one candy from the left. She wouldn't mind. This probably is my bowl, anyway. So I take a piece. When the sweet pink candy dissolves in my mouth, I reach out for another one, this time from the right. She wouldn't notice any difference, I proudly tell myself.

When I realize I am still alone, I continue popping hard candies in my mouth until my stomach got sick. I slowly turn about, ready to leave for my mama, but the other girl arrives. Her eyes blink twice when she steps in and she has the most beautiful pigtails that fell on her sides, I notice. She offers me a smile and strides forward. I smile back timidly. As soon as she gets near me, her smile slips off her face and her eyes begin to water. My cheeks flush scarlet. I had nearly finished off her bowl and now my heart feels sorry. I am filled with guilt and shame. And when I see the girl fall to the floor with her almost-empty bowl, I begin to cry too. I had been a bad girl, Mama would be so angry. When I fall beside the girl, I mumble my sorry and she turns to me with the saddest face I have ever seen. "You can't bring it back, can you?" she whispers.

I wake up and smile when I realize it was just a dream. But just before I could get off my bed, I hear my door go knock, knock, knock. My head turns towards it and it opens. Papa slowly slips in my room and he sits on my soft, pink bed. He gives me the longest hug before he plants a kiss on my forehead. Because it's my birthday, Papa says, I would be getting treats. I beam and bounce slightly on my bed when he passes me two equally-sized boxes of candies. Papa winks and tells me only one is mine. He'll come back later, he says. Then he leaves me holding the boxes, as I try to figure out which of the two is mine.

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It's hard to write a story without a dialogue, by the way, especially if you're trying to sound like a little girl. Bah, anyway, I hope there was something you understood with that extremely short story. If you didn't quite get it, it's okay, you could read it again. I actually didn't intend to write it this way. I was originally driven to write a poem that night, but my female brain stubbornly strayed and transformed my idea into something else.

"Two roads diverged on a yellow wood

And sorry I could not travel both..."