I Finished My Short Story

@Khallowz thanks for the writing prompt, I used it as inspiration for this short story I made, it has evolved far beyond your idea but you gave me the idea so thanks alot.

@traversetxwn & @galaxywiings finished the story so you can read it now if you want

and anyone else please read and give me feedback as you wish

also don’t steal this story this is mine lol,

The wooden door swings open to the fire flaming and Ollie kicks himself forward through the snow towards the cabin. His boots stick to the ice, it takes more energy then he had hoped to get here. He stumbles inside and collects himself. The snow has gotten itself up his trousers, on any other day he would have flung his fist down in anger, but today he is worried for her safety. “Carey?” he calles impatiently, there is no answer from the cabin.

Ollie only stands still for a moment, long enough to decide what to do next. He turns violently on his heels and heads back for the door. The cabin is warm but he can’t stay here, not without Carey, he has to find her. His brown musty hair hands over his eyes, he shoves it away with his gloved left hand. He reaches for the doorknob and stops himself. If he goes out there he will surely die of frostbite, or worse. He could be killed by the wolves.

He turns back to the table in the middle of the cabin, its wood sparkles underneath the light on the lamp hanging overhead. It admits a warm glow to him, Ollie can’t help but feel sorry for Carey, wherever she is now. Ollie removes his coat and snatches away the mask which was supposed to keep his face warm but had just been used to wipe away his tears.

Ollie pulls away the chair which he has been saving for Carey, he sticks it up underneath the doorknob to stop the jiggling of the handle. The wind still blows hard at the house, maybe even enough to cause the windows to shake, but not enough to get inside. Inside is only Ollie now, he is alone with his thoughts.

Part One; The Letter

The next few days passed and the storm calmed itself bit by bit over those days. The wind stopped howling as loud as it had been, and the snow let up a little. Enough for Ollie to make his way outside to search for Carey, logic had told him that she died on the way to their retreat but his brain told him otherwise. Was it love that made her crazy, or was it her which made him crazy. Had he been crazy enough to believe what she had said to him in their private conversation was true. He surely had heard worse, he had seen worse. Supposedly Carey had been kind enough to tell Ollie her secret but he hadn’t had the balls to tell her what was so special about him. The year was 1985, but Ollie had been born in 1208.

Ollie was immune to age, he’d been 20 since the last century, or maybe longer. He felt no pain in his knees or back as some older people supposedly had. Only his hands showed his age, hands show what eyes see. At the moment those hands were wrapped tightly around the handle of the shovel.

Ollie planted his feet into the ground and looked up to the clouds. His hair swayed back and forth in the cool spring breeze, his eyes glowed in the sunlight. Think Ollie, what did she say to you, he slumped back towards the tree’s and fell to the wet mushy ground. He closed his eyes and thought back to the week before, the last time he had seen Carey, the last conversation replayed in his head. This was a technique Ollie learned from a buddha he met in the 1720s.

Carey’s words rung in his head, “Oh Ollie, I can’t do that to you,” they stood in a bar smelling of fish. Carey’s words felt warm to Ollie but her normal golden har had grown dull.

“Do what?” Ollie asked, his smile faded as the words fell from his lips.

“I can’t leave you, I mean,” she stuttered and struggled to speak, something she often did when she was stressed, “I don’t want to leave you Ollie, but I have to.”

“I don’t understand,” repsoned Ollie.

“I’ve been gone long enough, years even,” she began to tear up as she spoke, “Ollie I’m not from here, I’m from the year 177-”

She cut herself off before she could finish and Ollie had to continue for her, “You’re from the future aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“It’s ok, I mean, that’s-”

“No, I have to go back,” she continued, “I don’t want to but I have to, Ollie.”

Ollie started to say something but she shut him with her hand to his lips. She didn’t speak, only held out a letter in a pink envelope. Take it, she thought, Take it and be gone.

Part Two; The Airport

Ollie awoke from the dream and headed to the car where he left the letter on the dash only slightly opened. He drove down the road away from the cabin with the letter in his left hand reading it aloud, “Ollie I can’t stay with you I have to head back to my time in the year 2779, I won’t be at the cabin, don’t check there, too late.”

There was more but he couldn’t get himself to finish it. He drove about 5 miles and turned into the airport and parked the car to finish the letter she had left behind, “I’m sorry Ollie but I can’t let you love me with the future all messed up the way I left it. I hope to see you soon Ollie boy.”

Ollie slammed his fist down on his thighs and stepped out of the car, “This doesn’t help me find her, why would she run off like that.” Ollie stood there as the wind blew through his hair and contemplated, She isn’t really from the future is she? I mean I believe some crazy things but that?

Ollie walked into the airport leaving his car behind with the letter still inside, and Ollie continued to mutter to himself along the way, “She doesn’t have a car, and she can’t buy one, she has to have taken a flight but if-”

He stopped halfway in his rant, and looked around in the airport amazed, he hadn’t been in here for the last 40 years. It was giant, filled with rows and rows of lights that flickered on and off at will. Ollie walked up to the lady at the desk, her hair swung forth in two large hoops of hair, the ends were dyed red which matched her eyes. Ollie stook out his hand, she took it close and they both interlocked fingers, hypnosis this will get her to answer all my questions without telling anyone I was here.

The lady’s eyes swirled back into her skull and she began to bleed from the corners of her mouth, better be quick, Ollie thought. “Listen lady, my name is Ollie Jones you are under hypnosis,” Ollie said this quiet calmly but still held the lady hand strong, letting go of her would cause her to awaken. “This is something I taught myself to do when I fought in world war 1 back a few years ago. The main purpose is to get away from combat without getting shot, but it works for this too. Anyway, I’m looking for Carey Underwood, do you know her, you probably don’t. Look it up on your computer in front of you, but keep hold of my hand while you do it, ok?”

The lady, whos name Ollie layered discovered to be Mrs. Reservation Agent, Took her left hand and flipped on the computer monitor, then types something up, all while making a drooling spitting noise. Her mouth continued to split up blood and from her nose came a moaning noise, steady but horrible to listen to.

Ollie thought of how to explain what he needed to the lady to do, then he spoke, “I need to know what flight Carey got on, ok?”

The lady only returned mumbles to his request. She then flipped the monitor around so that Ollie could see it, it was a blank expert for the name Carey Underwood typed into the search bar at the top. “She didn’t get on a flight?” asked Ollie. The Lady shook her head violently and blood flew in all directions. Ollie let go of her hand and she fell to the floor, “Damn, she ditched me.”

Part Three; The Test

Every day Profesor Lazowski started off his day with writing the date at the top of the white board. Today Ollie walked in to read 3/10/2003 atop the board’s face. Ollie often sat in the front row of the class but today he sat one row back, he was too busy thinking of the girls from all those years ago to participate in history class, although he was very good at it. Lazowski took quick notice of this and turned to face Ollie as he took his seat, “Something on your mind Mr. Jones?”

“Oh nothing much, thinking about old friends,” replied Ollie.

“Lot’s to think about?”

“I have lots to think about, yes Profesor.”

“Perhaps you’re thinking about one of your crazy lies to interrupt my college lecture with, are you?”


“The pyramids perhaps, thinking about you they were built by aliens?”

“No, that is far before the reaches of my knowledge,” scuffed Ollie slightly amused.

“Ah yes, only teasing Mr. Jones.”

After that little talk Ollie thought of Carey fell from his mind and he was once again focused on class, he had to eat after all if he wanted to continue his long life. As the men who ran the country once said, “College is the best way to get a job,” Ollie thought college was more likely to get you a bunch of debt and a tolerance to alcohol but it barely mattered.

That day Profesor Lazowski had prepared a test for the class which he passed out to everyone, Ollie took it and wrote his name at the top, the room was quiet around him. With the silence surrounding him Ollie’s mind drifted back to Carey and he thought of the last time he saw her, when she had given him the letter. What had he done with that pink letter?

He had left it in the car, never to be picked up again, that letter is probably still in the airport parking lot, he flew away from it long ago and never once looked back. Until now-

Why had he thought of that time so long ago now, he had many memories, like how he witnessed the death of Pierre de Castelnau as a baby. Castelnau was an emperor of the ancient times, at the time Ollie wasn’t even a year old but he could walk and talk as if he was 6 by then. He was put in the school where he was watched over by people from the church, they suspected him of being a demon but were unable to prove it before he ran away.

One day they locked him up in a cage and tied Ollie’s feet to his hands forcing him to lay down in a curved stance unable to move his body much. If Ollie did try to move the nuns would walk up to the wooden cage he was kept in and shake it gently screaming at him saying, “Áleifr desine stulte,” over and over until he stayed still.

Until one day when the nuns shook the cage too hard causing it to fall apart, then Ollie got out and ran away spouting random babily nonsense. He ran from the church all the way to the end of town where the castle lay and headed inside. The castle was massive made of stone walls and painted tons of bright pretty colors, big enough to fit a billion different Ollies in if they had that many.

Then baby Ollie headed up the stairs and found himself in the middle of a murder scene, the emperor was then killed before his own eyes. Ollie was so scared he ran from town, and had since forgotten where that even was, or how to get back.

Part Four; The Grade

Ollie sat in the class for about an hour thinking of his past life, how long he had lived. He thought of the wars he had witnessed and how he had been the good ol’ age of 20 so he had to fight in most of them. Mostly though, he thought of Carey and how he could barely remember her face after all these years. When Ollie tried to look at the test below him he couldn’t think straight, the questions and answers flooded his mind and he couldn’t seem to put the timeline together just right.

When the test was over Ollie sat in front of the Professor and they quietly looked at each other, Ollie slowly opened his mouth but said nothing, too ashamed of what had happened. “Ollie do you know what you got on my final?” asked Lazowski.

“Was it a 80%?”

“No, you got a zero,” responded Lazowski, “You answered every single question wrong somehow.” Lawoski placed the paper on the table and sighed, “It’s like you’re a senile old man who can’t think straight anymore, you used up all the space in your head and you’re all full of info.”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

“Neither do I, but may I recommend something? Try booze Mr. Jones, get the worries out and make room to bring the info back in.”

“I don’t think I’m old enough to drink sir-” responded Ollie nervously.

“Right, you’re only 20, well when do you turn 21?” asked the profesor.

“My birthday?”

“Yes, your birthday-”

“I don’t- I mean I um- No sir.”

“Remember Mr. Jones, I’m a doctor and right now, booze is the doctor’s order.”

“Ok,” whispered Ollie.

Part Five; The Professor

Just like Professor Lazowski, Professor Jones also wrote the date at the top of the white board. Ollie wrote 6/12/2779 for all of his students to see, then he sat at his desk and downed a bottle of beer for only him to see. All the students at the College of the United Stations of North Antarctica called Mr. Jones oldschool, he still used whiteboards and didn’t use his hoverphone much at all. But one thing Mr. Jones was good at history, with the booze in his system he could remember just what he needed to know and not have to deal with the PTSD of his past.

Ollie didn’t wake up for that class, and he was fired the next day.

Part Six; The Beer

Ollie swiveled in his bar stool with his drink swinging from his hand, “Number Seven please.”

“Not a chance,” replied the old fellow from across the room, “No man has ever gotten past 6 before, and it sure isn’t gonna be you ayah,” at this comment he stood up and took a few steps closer to Ollie before stopping, “Who are you kid?”


“You say much else?”

“Nope, I’m all good here.”

“Boy, life is just too short for all that going on over there.”

Ollie looked around and saw all the empty bottles around him and then shoved them all off the table onto the floor, “Better?”

“Would you not say life is too short?”

“Mr my life is too long,” Ollie said this with the beer in his hand at first but halfway through the sentence paused to place it on the floor with the others.

“You say?”

“So true, ayah.”

“Don’t mock me boy,” the old man took another step closer and Ollie could more clearly make out the green sweater and red cap with the scruffy white beard placed in between.

“Tell me then Mr, why is life too short.”

“Because we all have something,” He stopped suddenly and sat next to Ollie. He picked up the beer Ollie had placed so gently on the tile floor below and took a quick swig. “We all have something that we want to do, something that makes life worth the wait but not all accomplish that because we-”

“Booze make the old men the wiser?” Ollie had crossed his arm and now stuck his feet up on top of the table, sticking them in the face of the old man.

“Well, I’m like an old fancy term call something like that therapist,” The old man continued to mumble, “and we do that, its that thing that we all have something it’s that we-”

“We all have something to live for,” Ollie finished.

“No, you’re wrong, but quit drinking if you can, cause we call know it’s too late for yah boi old fellow here is that.”

Part Seven; The News

The knocks remained steady on the plank of wood leaned up against the door of the apartment. Eventually Ollie dragged himself out of bed and opened it to find one of his students. Kaklee Parker was standing in front of him now, she was wearing a red letterman jacket and had a giant grin on her face, “Hello Prof-”

“I’m not a professor anymore Kaklee,” Ollie stumbled and caught himself on Kaklee’s shoulder.

“That’s ok Professor, turn on the TV, big news today.” Kaklee tossed Ollie to the floor and ran across the room, her white sneakers skidded to a stop in front of the box square tv which had it antenas hanging on with a piece of tape, “why do you have this old thing Professor?”

“It still works doesn’t it,” Ollie mumbled.

Kaklee nodded and flipped on the TV, the dark room filled with light and the reporter began to speak, “We have just achieved time travel people, it is now possible to go from 2779 to any year in the past or future.”

“What?” Ollie asked, jolting up and crawling over to the tv on his hands and knees, “That has to be false-”
“Nope,” Kaklee interrupted, “I saw it myself at the city center, can’t you believe it, the first time machine, invented by Dr. Carey Underwood.”

“Who? What? That-” Ollie could barely breathe, “What was that name?”

“Carey, Carey Underwood?”

Ollie collapsed at once to the ground and fell asleep. He dreamed of his own life, it all came back, everything that he had so desperately tried to keep down with the beer came right back up again because of that name. He remembered being a baby seeing that man get murdered, working on a farm at 6 years old. Ollie saw himself milking the cows and then he saw the cows laying dead in the snow as the men in the cloak fled on their horses. Ollie saw himself stabbing that same man through the heart. The war, he was in the war, he held a rifle in his hand and he was sobbing in the trench, then he was dancing along the streets of new york. He was sitting on the bench along the river, he was alone in the cabin. He was being taught in school, he was teaching in schools. He was at the bar with the old man talking to him with his feet on top of the table, then he was here in his apartment with Kaklee and the TV was blaring as she called for help. He was everywhere all at once, he was doing everything he had ever done all at the same time and he felt it all in his old broken head.

Part Eight; The Time Machine

Over the next 3 days Kaklee visited Ollie at 3pm, the same exact time every single day. Ollie was sleeping over those 3 days, the doctors said he was dying but when Kaklee came to see him on the 4th day, Ollie was awake. “Hello Kaklee, how are you today.”

“I’m ok, just glad you’re finally awake,” replied Kaklee softly.

“The doctors told me that you’ve been visiting me everyday, thank you.”

“Oh it’s no big deal-”

“They also told me that I’m going to die,” Ollie stated calmly.

“What, why?” asked Kaklee sadly.

“Oh, they don’t know, but I know.”

“You know?”

“Yep, I’m too old.”

“Mr. Jones you’re only 31 years old, I don’t understand.”

“I am not 31, or 21, or 41. I am 1571 years old.”

“Your joking?”

“No. I don’t know how it happened so please don’t ask. But my years seem to finally be catching up with me and pretty fast.”
“You, are crazy Mr. Jones,” Kaklee cried, “And you shouldn’t lie to kids Mr. Jones. You shouldn’t lie to me Mr. Jones.”

“Funny how people don’t believe that you’re immortal when time travel exists. But you go back a few years back and an immortal man wouldn’t believe you were from the future. It’s twisted, really.” Once Ollie was finished talking he held up a gre hair which he had pulled from his head and handed it to Kaklee, “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re crazy,” Kaklee turned to go, but then handed Ollie the remote which she held in her pocket, “The real doctors wanted me to give you this, they say something interesting is happening on the news,” and with that Kaklee was gone.

Ollie pressed the big red button on the remote and a TV flew towards him, it was twice as thin as paper and floating in mid air. Ollie pushed it back gently and it moved with his hand, the reporter on the TV was the same as the one from earlier. She said that Mrs Underwood would be showing off the time machine at the city center later today and everyone would be able to see it work.

Part Nine; The Debt Collector

Ollie was released from the hospital an hour before the time machine would be shown off meaning he had an hour to get ready to speak to Carey. Ollie is already Old and gray, where his face was before is now covered in a gray beard thrown onto his face, so unfamiliar yet still his somehow. Ollie walks into the flower shop across the street from the city center and buys one blue rose for 4 dollars and 22 cents.

Across the street sits a black van, the man inside who sits at the steering wheel is a detective, he sees the man walk into the flower shop and leave with more wrinkles than before, this must be the man he is looking for. Raley steps out of the vehicle and walks before the man holding the rose in front of him, “Oliver Jones, I presume.”

“Yes, who are you?”

“I am Raley Walkens, im FGI used to be FBI when you’re from.”

“When am I from?” asked Ollie.

“The 1200s I think.”

“You’re wrong-”

Raley suddenly grabbed Ollie’s arm and swung him into the alleyway behind the shop, “Don’t talk, I know who you are, we’ve been watching you for a few hundred years at this point, you never aged until now, why is that?”

“I Uh-”

“I said don’t talk!” Raley then pulled a knife and shoved it into Ollie’s arm pinning him against the brick wall. The pain stung Ollie but he hung onto his flower tighter than before, “Mr Jones I want to know how you did it, how did you live thing long, tell me and I’ll let you go I won’t need to go to the FGI, I’ll keep the secret between me and a few close friends, I will I promise.”

“Get off me-”
Raley slapped Ollie across the face and blood fell from Ollie’s nose in a straight stream down onto his pants. It only bled for a moment then it stopped as Raley pulled Ollie off the wall and shoved him against the ground, “Tell me pretty boy, how do you do it?” The spit flew from Raley’s lips as he spoke and slobber ran down his chin and fell into Ollie’s ear where Raley had pressed his lips against Ollie’s head, “Tell me how to become a god like you boy.”

Ollie tried to stand up but Raley shoved him back into the pavement and pulled out his gun and held it to the sky. The gun shot up and Raley cried out before pressing it to the side of Ollie’s head demanding he tell him his secrets.

Ollie remembered the Japanese soldier he had met a long time ago, the memory came flooding back uncontrollably. He was a tall man in a red cloak with a bronze sword tied to his waist. He explained to Ollie how he had once been shot at but had swung his arm around to his sword and sliced the bullet in half in mid air. Ollie couldn’t do that but there is one thing he thought he could do.

Ollie awoke and turned on his back forcing Raley to be thrust off of him, when Raley stood up Ollie kicked him in the balls and got up to run away. His knees hurt when he tried to do it, he judged he was now 50 instead of 40, but he could still run for a little bit.

Part Ten; The Girl

Ollie turned the corner with the rose in his hand and fell to the ground again, not 50 but older now. 60 or 70 would be his guess but he wasn’t too sure. He ran to the city center, tripping and falling along the way. When he finally made it to the edge of the road he stopped and looked across the street to see her standing on the platform hovering just above the grass with her machine next to her. It looked like a space shuttle but Ollie couldn’t tell from across the street. He only looked at her, she was the same Carey from a long time ago.

“Carey,” it was the old him speaking through his voice, not 90 as he was now but 20 when he met her, “Hello Carey, I’m Ollie, have we met.”

She turned and stepped off the platform and walked across the grass to meet him, waving as she went. “My name is Carey, I do remember you, but a little bit different.”

“You ditched me Carey,” Ollie cried, “You didn’t show up the cabin like we planned.”

“That was your plan Ollie, my plan was to come back here and show everyone what I created, I’m doing that now.”

“Go back please, I-”
“No, Ollie, I-”

“I want it to be that way,” they both whispered at the same time.

Then Carey walks away, Ollie does not follow but instead holds the rose close to his heart and turns away. He leans against the wall of the closest building and sides to the bottom. He sits and he wants to continue to speak to her, but he doesn’t. He keeps sitting and he thinks about the last time they spoke back in 1985 and how he didnt say anything then. He thinks, If I said nothing then, well there isn’t much to say now. That is all. The old man who used to be Ollie then reaches his age limit. He turns to dust and is gone.

The wooden door swings open to the fire flaming and Ollie kicks himself forward through the snow towards the cabin and there he stands to see Carey in front of him again.


Oh my god that’s long but impressive I love it


That’s too much to read :sob:

It turned out so good! You did amazing!

talk about short, but good story

thank you, im glad you liked it

yes 8 pages is very short

Anytime! This was really fun to read

@galaxywiings @traversetxwn one of u read my story plz, i want feedback

Okay, first of all, I LOVEE this part.

Second of all, it’s a very interesting story, but I do have some suggestions for you.

You need is some grammar fixes and a little more description at times. There are parts where plot armor seems to come in heavily (e.x. telling Mrs. Reservation Agent to look up Carey. Why didn’t she question this kid?! SHE SHOULD BE QUESTIONING THIS KID!). On the topic of Mrs. Reservation Agent (at least give the poor woman a generic-ish name. Matilda Smithe? I DON’T KNOW /nm), what’s up with her blood going everywhere once Ollie finishes talking to her? I need to know what happened.
Detail Ollie’s life some more. Where did he get the ability to time travel? He clearly can but I never found out how. Who are these people at his school he’s talking to? What does he want to go to college for? What happened that made him eternally 20 years old? What is this death he witnessed? AM I READING MULTIPLE SEGMENTS FROM OLLIE’S LIFE?! Why is he obsessed with Carey? And speaking of her, what exactly is her deal? All I know is that Ollie loves her and she’s from “177-” (could be 177 A.D., or any year from 1770-1779).
Also, Ollie seems to be very blunt and lacks some character development. Work on his personality. If he’s gonna be blunt and straightforward, we need to know why. Also, is there anything that motivates him besides Carey? What does he like and dislike? Any fears? What makes him laugh? What makes him super angry?

Otherwise, it’s very interesting.


This needs to Be a Book Fr–

i can answer some questions, also i am willing to make changes

the reservation agent didn’t question Ollie bc he hypnotized her into doing what he asked and it caused her to bleed,

Ollie can not time travel, im just skipping through his life and showing parts of a larger story

he’s going to college bc he was told it was a good idea, and is unsure what to do with his life

no one knows why he ages so slowly

death is mysterious

he is obsessed with Carey bc he loves her, and out of all the many years he has lived through she is the only one he has ever loved

Carey is from 1779, when she invented the time machine, i think she said that in her letter

does this make more sense now?

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yeah, i think so

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ok im sorry my writing style can be confusing bc i hate exposition and like to reveal things over the courses of my stories and it can be kind of hard to pick up some of it

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Sometimes, in order to properly reveal something, you have to reveal others

I have the exact opposite problem that you do. I like to tell people as much as I can as soon as it makes sense. So I kinda have a weakness for info-dumping in my writing.

ha, both of those problems can be bad, too much info can confuse a reader but not giving any info can confuse a reader

i once wrote a book and didn’t say the name of one of the main characters until halfway through the book lol

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also, gonna switch this topic to community creations for ya :D

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Wouldn’t be the first time. In the Divine Comedy, Dante’s name is only ever said once or twice.

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And even then, it took until Purgatory before the first (and possibly last, if I recall) time his name was ever used.

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