Tried my hand at writing a story

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  • JamesPopper
    Senior Member
    • Nov 2016
    • 128

    Tried my hand at writing a story

    As the title says I tried writing a story, give any thoughts or criticism in the comments please


    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    Birthday

    The whirr of an electric motor consumed all sounds around me, despite this it did not register. Vacuuming the carpet of the basement thoughts of balloons in all shapes, colors and sizes consumed my thoughts. Observing the basement I think to myself “What kinds of balloons will she use?” In previous years my mother had bought strange balloons, even making clusters and columns, and with the extravagant bonus she had just received I had no doubt that this party was to be spectacular. Coiling up the vacuum cord and tucking it into the broom closet just to the left of the stairs I stop for a moment to pick out a small box. On it the words “INTEX mattress pump” are clearly written. Thinking it may prove useful later I place it on the billiard table.
    Walking up the stairs I shut the door behind me. Looking outside I see the gentle pitter-patter of rain on our front porch. I hear a board under the carpet creak and turn around to be greeted by my father, a tall, corpulent man compared to my measly 5’5 height and small waist. “Yeah it kinda sucks you cant have your party outside I know it's a hell of a lot easier to clean up.” he states, walking by to turn and walk upstairs. I smile and think to myself “I don't mind that I have to clean up a little more mess, it just means my beautiful balloons won't be oxidized” Hearing the gentle sound of the garage door open I perk up slightly, from across the house I hear the door open, my heart begins to race, thoughts of huge bulging balloons fill my mind, I hear my mother yell “Can you please help me get stuff in from the Durango?”
    Gleefully I walk into the garage and pop open the back of the SUV, as the hydraulic pump lifts the back up I am welcomed by 3 helium tanks, and several bags from the party store, each containing a plethora of party supplies, mainly balloons. Grabbing two helium tanks I take them downstairs with a certain feeling of excitement one gets only when they are about to indulge in a great pleasure. Taking the third helium tank downstairs along with the plastic bags full of joy. Smiling at me my mother asks “Is that all from the car?” I respond cheerfully “Yes it is”. I am quickly rushed upstairs by my mother, her saying things along the lines of “It's not fun to decorate if you get to see it being done, it takes the suprise away.” Patiently I wait in my room, watching youtube videos to pass the time.

    A considerable amount of time passes

    I hear a knock at my door and asked to come out by my mother, eagerly I walk with her to the basement, I lead and she is following, awaiting my reaction. Walking on the carpeted floor I open the door to the basement, hearing it crack slightly, I walk down the stairs of the basement noticing the absence of any sort of light, each step, each moan and creak of the floor board raises this feeling in my heart of excitement. I have reached the landing, looking into the black abyss I flip the lightswitch on with the vigor and excitement of a kid on christmas and am instantaneously greeted with more balloons than I’ve ever had, to my immediate left and right there are columns of 12 inchers at least a foot higher than I am, the floor is littered with 12, 16, 24 and 36 inch balloons and where they are absent the white carpet is turned all sorts of colors from the refraction of the balloons. The corners and middle of each wall boast a column comprising of 16 inch balloons at least 2 feet higher than me, the ceiling was neatly decorated with a banner above the two columns,and with the methodical precision of a surgeon clusters of balloons hung from the ceiling increasing in size as they strayed to the center of the room, boasting the pièce de résistance which was comprised of a 6 balloon cluster with pink, white and black 36 inch balloons. Every couple of feet a helium balloon of varying sizes gently bobs back and forth from the floor.

    After my friends had left I was set in charge of cleaning up the party. Normally I was adamant not to clean but in this instance the satisfaction of having all of these balloons to myself was just too great. Observing the fold out tables my mother had taken from the storage room I quickly realize the tablecloth she set upon it is disposable. Taking all of the disposable dishware and beverage cans and setting them in the center of the table I take all of the corners and collect them in the center. I pick it up, taking the string from an accidentally popped balloon from earlier and grimacing I tie the bunch together and take the trash upstairs and out to the trash receptacle. As I returned inside my mother asked “Did you clean up the party mess?” to which I promptly said “Yes”.
    “Even the balloons? I didn't hear any pops?” she said
    “Oh uh I’ll clean them up in a bit.”
    “Just make sure it gets done.” she says turning back to watch the television
    Fuck, I think to myself, Im going to have to be careful sneaking all these balloons to my room. Walking downstairs I set my eyes upon the sixteen 12 inch helium balloons I set in the corner. Grasping the strings and watching them bob back and forth I pull downwards slightly watching them go back up. Smiling I carefully make my way upstairs with this precious cargo in hand, making my way up the second set of stairs I open my door and release the balloons into my room letting them float to the top of the room. Carefully turning the knob of my door I shut it and release the tension on the knob so as not to make a sound.
    Turning back to the stairs I set one foot down and as though it were magic the lock on the door twists and the door pops open. I felt a heaviness in my chest, this had just become impossible. Now standing on the bottom of the stairs,one hand on the railing and one foot hanging off of the bottom step I give a timid "Hello.". My sister, now through the doorway does not respond. with a cold callous indifference she firmly shuts and locks the door and throws her shoes off, still with her massive backpack hanging on her shoulders, she turns to look and says "Are you going to fucking move or do I have to push you down the stairs again"
    I quickly move out of the way and as I am walking downstairs I hear a “Happy birthday loser” from her. And just as quickly as she came into the house she disappeared into her room. I quickly rush downstairs, looking at all of the balloons I have yet to take upstairs. With haste I grab the two columns at the front of the room and make my way up the stairs. As soon as I get to the door way I am stopped. Two of the twelve inchers are stuck in the doorway as the columns base is too large. I firmly tug it through the doorway while making a ridiculously loud squeaking noise. My mother turns from the couch to look at me. A heaviness instantly sets in my heart as she says “Whatcha up to there?”
    I quickly blurted out “Oh just uh taking them to my room.”
    She makes an odd face towards me, this is it I thought. All my beautiful birthday balloons are going to be popped and I will not be able to enjoy them. My chest becomes even heavier as my heart begins to pound, my peripheral vision begins to blacken. After what seemed like an eternity she resumed watching the television, not saying a word. “Do you need me to do anything else?” I ask, “Nope, so long as the basement is clean.” she says distractedly. This was my out. Since my mother didn't care it would be far easier to get the balloons upstairs. Although I did have to worry about my sister.
    Walking upstairs both columns in hand I think to myself just how lucky I am to have these. Once I arrive at my door I quickly open it and squeeze the bottom two 12 inchers that were oh so troublesome prior, with two out of the five columns in my room I quickly realize just how full my room is going to be. And without a moment's reflection I descend down the stairs to grab more of my balloons. Analyzing the room in the event my sister finds these I decided to grab the most elegant balloon sculpture in the room, the enormous 6 balloon cluster that towers over me in height. Squeezing it up the stairs with a considerable amount of force, Turning and pushing it up to the next set of stairs I begin to make the most dangerous trek for these balloons, but as soon as I get halfway up the stairs I hear the click of a doorknob turning. Fuck fuck fuck, my sister is now presumably comming to pop the biggest and best balloons ive ever had all before ive had a chance to enjoy them. Hearing each footstep approach I try to quietly remove the balloons from the stairway, but to no avail. But then the sound of another door opening consumes my hearing along with it being firmly shut and the click of its lock. Holy shit, I think to myself. Quickly I squeeze the balloons up the stairs and to the landing. I am now faced with my door, considerably smaller than the one to the basement but not lacking in its height. Re-thinking my plan to get these in my room I decide to quickly detach one of the duplets from the cluster and I quickly shove it into my room, just as I do that I hear the flush of the toilet and the rush of sink water hitting the basin of the sink. Its do or die, I quickly shove the remaining 4 balloons through the door way, with all sorts of squeaking noises, just as I hear the door click to unlock, I shove myself into my room and slightly close the door, peeking through to observe my sister. She walks over to the thermostat with a tired expression on her face and adjusts the knob, turning back to her room she sulks back to her room with a sigh and shuts the door. I quickly rush down the stairs, to account for all of the balloons I’ve got down here. 3 columns 20 clusters of varying sizes, 32 twelve inchers, accompanied by 12 sixteen inchers and 4 thirty six inchers strewn about lazily throughout the floor. Realizing it would take me far too many trips to get all of these balloons upstairs tonight I decided to look for something to lessen the amount of trips. Looking in the broom closet I find various cleaning supplies, which are of no use to me. On the very top shelf there are however, two, 120 gallon bin liners. I think to myself, How many of these twelve inchers can I fit into one?
    The next several trips went by smoothly, I got all three columns upstairs and had packed a bin liner with half of the twelve inch balloons. Taking the bin liner upstairs I smile, thinking about all the things i'm going to do with the balloons. As I enter my room I untie the bin liner and dump all but one twelve inch balloon onto the floor, this particularly tight balloon had appeared to have gotten statically attracted to the bag, reaching in I gently grasp the balloon by its body. But just as soon as I grasp it a large bang consumes my hearing entirely, It had just popped. Panicking I turn off the lights to my room and rush out to the hallway and lay on the floor in front of the stairs. My sister mozeys out of her room and asked what the noise was. I quickly reply “I just fell”. She smiles, and chuckles a bit before walking back into her room, this time not shutting her door. Looking at her now ajar door my heart sinks as I realize I cannot move the balloons to my room for the time being. And it's only a matter of time before she enters the basement for one reason or another. I walk down to the basement with a somber expression, observing the remaining balloons that will likely meet an end with her. My only option remaining is to wait her out, swiftly I take all of the remaining twelve inchers and stuff them tightly into the bin liner, grabbing another I begin to fill it to capacity with all but one sixteen incher, looking at all of the clusters I wonder how I am going to get them upstairs, I had just used the last bin liner for the sixteen inchers. Looking over at the presents that I have yet to bring upstairs I spot the paracord bracelet my friend mark gave me. An Idea began to form.
    Swiftly I begin to undo the weave of the bracelet, giving me approximately 50 feet of paracord, I wrap a loop around every cluster, with each one having the paracord turn into a large garland of these multi-colored orbs, with intermittent interruptions of either bigger or smaller balloons. The remaining 4 thirty six inchers and one 16 inch balloon would have to be carried upstairs by hand.
    Several hours later at eleven o’clock I decide now is the time to strike, my sister had just retrieved a glass of water and shut her door. I rush downstairs grasping the end of the balloon garland tugging it upstairs getting this loosely held together garland up the second flight of stairs proved to be difficult, as the balloons snagged upon the lip under each step, causing three clusters to fall to the base of the stairs. Shoving the remaining seven into my half full room I descend back down to retrieve the remaining three clusters, once again pushing them into my room, going back to the basement I grab the 16 inch balloon that was not confined in the bin liner and held it along with both of the bin liners. Ascending up the stairs I begin to feel anxious, this was the biggest shipment I had done all night, if this went awry almost half of my balloons would be destroyed. Entering the upstairs I set one of the bin liners in the kitchen and go to the third level with the sixteen incher and second bin liner containing all of the other sixteen inchers in hand, with a complete disregard for noise I throw open my door and toss the bin liner and all into my room, rushing back down with the speed of an Olympic runner I grab the bin liner in the kitchen, I hold the lip to the bag observing them, closing it I close my eyes and breathe. “Why am I getting so worked up?” I think to myself, “No one is even awake.” I walk up the stairs calmly with the bin liner in hand, gently placing it inside of my still open door frame and closing it slightly to keep the balloons inside. Returning to the basement I get 3 out of 4 of the thirty six inchers into my grasp and, yet again, ascend both flights of stairs and place them into my room. Descending the stars I place my foot slightly over the first step and slip, falling on my ass. I rush down the stairs and into the basement, wondering if anyone heard my fall. Looking at the remaining balloon I could not help myself, I sit on it and bounce a bit thinking about how good it feels and how much fun im going to have with them. Grabbing it by its knot I tug, seeing a neck pop out. All the anxiety that had just consumed me washed away instantaneously, observing this yellow 36 inch balloon shift and squish below me. Standing back up I grab the balloon, heart full of song and begin to ascend the stairs for a final time. Opening the door however I felt the sticky cold air of reality set in, there right in front of me stood my sister back to me, as though it were in slow motion she turned around, grimacing, demanding to know if any cake had been left for her.

    Sheepishly I respond “Sorry my friends all ate it.”

    Nastily, like a witch she retorts “For fuck sake youre so damn self centered. I never- Woah holy fuck thats a big balloon.”

    “Shit fuck FUCK!” I think to myself

    She quickly advances towards me, towering over me and says “Gimme”, not responding she quickly walks over to me and grabs it. “Woooow” she says. Placing the balloon on the floor she looks at it and proceeds to sit on it. I barely get a “No!” out before she falls to the floor with a loud BANG! I sulk back up to my room as she laughs. Only to be greeted by all the balloons I had previously collected.
  • LoneLoonRider
    Senior Member
    • Jan 2017
    • 137

    #2
    Re: Tried my hand at writing a story

    Looking forward to seeing what happens to those balloons in that bedroom.

    Comment

    • Mysticforest767
      Junior Member
      • Sep 2019
      • 2

      #3
      Re: Tried my hand at writing a story

      James your story is captivating lol. Ive read it about three times now. I hope to see a part 2 soon.

      Comment

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