November was an odd month in Chicago. One day it was warm with the sun piercing through blue skies, and the next day it would be freezing with rain dampening the ground and spirits. We experienced snow when the east coast was battling a hurricane, and every day the wind was raucous. I think it was the peculiar way that the weather changed from day to day that made people stay away from the park. If more people were willing to chance better weather, perhaps someone else might have seen what I saw last Sunday at the park. Usually, the park has a few kids playing basketball and some mothers with their small children on the playground. This month the players and the mothers stayed indoors playing hoops in a gym and taking advantage of the pay areas in the malls.
Last Sunday, I was the only person at the park. I sat in my usual spot under the bleachers of the softball field and wrote ten pages of lyrics in my notebook. I usually only write one or two pages, but the empty park and the howling winds gave a tempo to my writing, and I continued for over an hour. It was pretty cold, but the sun made temporary appearances through the clouds. I kept peeking through the bleacher stairs to see if anyone would ever come to the park today. It was nearing noon, and I was sure a few people would trickle in around lunch time. No one would be having any picnics today, but the weather was not too awful, and someone might come to play a game or let their kids run around.
I was writing a song about people losing their homes and being pushed away from the places they loved (most likely because of the hurricane), when the three men entered the park. There were not any cars, so they had walked, and they entered from the opposite end of where I was. I knew they could not see me, so I kept watching them walk through the park and stop by the basketball court. Of the three, not one of them had a ball, but one of them had a tool of some sort. Two of the men kept looking around, and they faced my direction a few times, but they could not see under the steps of the bleachers as well as I could see out of the bleachers, so they never saw me spying on them. The man with the tool started twisting it on a green metal box on the edge of the court and the grass. It was small, and I never noticed it before. I could see a yellow sticker on it, but I could not read it from where I was. When the man was done twisting with the tool, he took the top off of the metal box and it looked like he put something inside it. He closed it up quickly, and then all three of the men left the way they had come. The whole maneuver only took three minutes.
When I was sure that they were gone, I walked slowly over to the small metal box. The yellow sticker had a lightning rod on it and it said "electricity". I could see that it was connected to the lights that lit the basketball courts. It was the size of a shoe box, and there was a screw at the top that held the lid in place. I tried to pry the lid open with my hands, but it was metal and didn't even budge. I looked at the screw, and I was one I had never seen before. I knew about flatheads and Phillips screws, but this one had a square at the top. What kid of screwdriver could unscrew that? I took out my notebook and pencil, and I put a page over the screw and scratched over the paper with my pencil. I saw someone doing this to a gravestone on tv, and I was sure I could get an imprint of the screw on my paper. It was pretty messy, but I could see the size and shape of the square on the screw, and I tore the page out of my notebook and started walking home. I knew my dad had a drawer full of screw drivers in the basement. Maybe one was the same type and size.
To complete, you need to explain what happens after the story ends. Provided is the Exposition of the story, and a small Conflict. What happens next? And how will the story end? Does the box get opened? What is inside? What does the narrator do with what they find? Are they in danger? Do they get caught? Decide on an ending that fits and start writing. For complete credit, I am going to look for a Climax and a Resolution. The Rising and Falling Action will happen naturally as your complete this story. _________________________________________________________________
The street was wet with the morning rain. Small puddles had formed where the streets intersected, and the water dripping from the rooftops slowed as the morning progressed. It was still very early, the sun had not yet risen, and the traffic on the streets was slight, and only a few cars lit the wet blacktop. I looked out of my bedroom window to see if I could go back to sleep. My bedroom clock had stopped working last week, so I used the amount of light in the sky as my determiner for when to get out of bed. It was still dark, so I knew I had at least an hour before I had to get up. I pulled the covers back over my head, and that’s when the loud crash into my door happened.
I thought my bedroom door was going to come off its hinges, but the crash just made it crack slightly. I couldn't see the crack, but I heard the wood splintering. I was sitting up in my bed now, listening for who or what had made the sound, and if another crash was coming. Several seconds passed. I breathed as quietly as I could. My breath was the only thing I could hear. No footsteps, knocking, or wriggling of the handle of the door. Whatever had made the sound was either gone or being as silent as I was. “Hello?” I said. Nothing. “Who is there?” Again, nothing.
I turned my body and feet towards the floor. Ever so slowly and quietly I placed two feet on the ground and started to get out of bed. As I stood, another crash at the door came. This time the door gave way. It splintered at the handle, and the door opened in a flash. He stood there. As tall as the door frame, his gaze lowered to me. It was hard to look back into those eyes. They were red, and pierced the darkness of my room. I could hear him breathing then. They were heavy breaths, and each one was determined and full. Then, when I was wondering who would speak first, he said “It is time to go.” I nodded agreement.
I grabbed my clothes and dressed quickly. He stood there waiting while I rushed to join him. “Do I have time to eat?” I asked. He said nothing. I guess that was not important where we were going. As I walked towards the broken door, he put his hand on my shoulder and said “This time will be more dangerous, but I am glad you are coming with me.”
Together we walked out of the house, and ...