Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Writing Wednesdays // Bashing the Block #1 RESPONSES (or lack thereof...)

So last week, I introduced you guys to BASHING THE BLOCK, a prompt-type not-contest thing. Read the post here.

Well, let's just say nobody entered :-)

Which is kool with me, because I wrote an entry for the contest and now you can only read MINE! (Mer hahahahaha.) So here's mine...

by Rcubed 
Rcubed is an almost-fifteen-year-old sophomore with an affinity for writing. She enjoys eating ice cream, listening to Andy Mineo, and living life in general. Aiming to publish a book before high school graduation, she also hopes to make a Christ-filled difference on her public school campus.
The moment the salesman opened his mouth, I thought, Why is he trying to sell me a Tesla?

I checked my phone for an appraising look. Blue eyes, glossed pink lips, plain brown hair with bangs. Regular shorts from Old Navy; a T-shirt from Gap, the tag plainly sticking out.
Me? A Tesla?
So I waited patiently until I couldn’t stand his spiel anymore. I wanted a Civic, not a Tesla. “Sir, I’m not interested in a Tesla.”
“But I insist, ma’am.” He was a ferrety man, with a cone-like head, sort of like Phineas from Phineas and Ferb. “Come over here and look at our wonderful selection! Silver, red, any color you could dream of! Oh, and look--our magnificent rainbow car.”
I looked.
At first, the car looked white. Blinding white. It scorched my eyes.
And then I saw it.
It wasn’t a color, really. Just a hue. A glittering hue that shimmered in a way that made me think of magic.
It was beautiful.
“And guess what?” The salesman leaned closer, his breath smelling like Funyons. “I’ll give it to you. For free.”
The instant free left his lips, I stood straighter. “Hold on. You’re giving me this Tesla for free? That’s insane. That’s stealing. You can’t.”
“No, I was authorized.” He stared at me intently, and it was right there that I noticed his eyes were violet.
“I’m sixteen years old. I don’t need a Tesla! Somebody would probably just steal it or something. I don’t want handouts.” I crossed my arms. “Where are the Civics?”
“Please, just at least take it for a test drive, maybe?” He sounded so hopeful.
Why? It wasn’t like I was going to buy it. Or take it, even. I doubted he was even authorized to give it away.
“Why are you so stuck on selling me a Tesla?” I rolled my eyes. “Lead the way.”
I swear he did some sort of High School Musical dance as he led me over to the car. “I’ll be in the backseat,” he told me before the sides swung up and he practically dove inside.
“Yeah, yeah, okay.” What a complete waste of time.
But when I slid into the driver’s seat, a feeling of euphoria came over me. The seats were perfectly warm, and buttery, the controls smooth and cool in my hand. When I turned on the ignition, a little buzz flew through my fingers. And I’m not talking about emotional buzz--I’m talking about an actual buzz.
Was I just electrocuted? I stared at my hand, trying to figure it out.
“Go ahead, drive.” The man sounded nervous now, and by now everything was freaking me out.
I refused to press the gas. “Why are you doing this?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He was staring at a little black device in his hand. “Go!”
I don’t know why I went.
But I pressed on the pedal and we shot out of the parking lot and into the busy afternoon traffic.
Somebody honked once, and I checked around nervously, trying to see what was wrong. But as far as I could tell, I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Then somebody else honked, then another car too. And before I knew it, everyone was honking at me in a sort of discordant symphony.
“I’M GOING BACK!” I shouted at the salesperson. “We’re going back!”
But now he was staring at me with a smile on his face, not a nasty smile, but a kind of smile that sent me back to my childhood and the games of Freeze Tag we used to play, the kind of smile that the person who was It would always have whenever they caught me. A satisfied smile.
I tried to steer back to the parking lot, but the cars weren’t moving. Not even when I added my own honks to the chorus of awoo-ahs and beeeps.
“What’s going on?!” I shouted at the salesman. “What are you doing? Where are we--” Suddenly the cars all around me began moving in one body, carrying me along with the crowd. I wasn’t even pressing the pedal.
Then I saw the orange cones. And the hole.
And then after that all I saw was a flash of light, and that was that.


For those of you who don't know, I joined the writers' blog Ravens and Writing Desks! To check out my first post, click here.


  1. Ooh! I love your short short story. It was so mysterious, and kind of creepy at the same time, but the best thing about it is that it pulled me right in. Great job! Is this to be continued? I'd love to enter next time, but is there any way that I can enter without email? Maybe some kind of contact form? My parents don't really allow me to email people that I don't know personally. It has nothing to do with you, so please don't take it personally. I hope you'll understand.

    1. Oh yes! You can submit it through the contact form under the Contact tab, but I think you need an email address for that. Or you can just comment your entry. Or you can make another email that's separate from your personal one; that's what I did. I will be continuing this, but probably only once a month.