11 likes
6 comments
Maybell called me one day in distress and disarray. Her voice was quivering, and she was crying. I thought she was going to tell me her grandma had passed away, but the news was far, far worse. When she said she was moving away, the world around me turned gray.
She had helped me cope with problems — ones I still carry today. When I knew she was leaving, my heart and soul shrank away. That night, I went to her house to help her pack. Our eyes were red from crying, our noses running, our voices shaky. We were only seventeen. We had planned to go abroad together. Prom was next month. We had spent weeks saving up for our dresses. We played soccer and softball in the spring. That night, I couldn’t sleep. I knew I was going to lose my best friend forever. I finally fell asleep. I had a dream about the day I met Maybell. I was six and she was seven. I was the new kid, and Maybell was friends with everyone. Other friends went away, but we stuck together until that winter junior year.
The cold winter day she left arrived. The harsh wind bit my wet, cold face as we loaded her bags into the airport shuttle. She handed me something — $262.43. “Take it,” she said, “I probably won’t even get a date for prom, so there’s no point.” We stood there, neither of us able to speak. Then she left. “We’ll keep in touch,” she said. I knew it wasn’t true. Those were the last words she ever spoke to me.
The next night, I called, full of hope and wonder. All I got was a busy signal and an unanswered voicemail. She had promised to be at my sixteenth birthday, but she never came, and my day felt incomplete. She said she had an appointment that day, but I didn’t know if it was true. She came home crying, and two weeks later, she moved. I remembered a memory from seventh grade — our first school dance. She was in pink, and I was in green. She flirted and danced while I stood in the corner, too shy to approach her as she laughed among the boys. But when the slow song came, she came and grabbed my hand. She taught me how to dance, and we danced the night away. That memory has never left me.
There was another memory — a summer afternoon in fifth grade, just the two of us, lying in the grass, staring at clouds. We shared secrets, whispered promises, and swore we would always be together. Even then, I knew she had a light inside her that could make the darkest days seem bright.
On my wedding day, I received a letter from her. It said she was so proud and happy for me. When I saw the date, I realized it had been written the day before she left for LA — that terrible winter day. Anger welled up inside me. Why? Why wouldn’t she call? Then I realized why…
One day, I got a ring. I was thirty-three. I had no hope that it was her. I answered, and a man was crying. I learned that my dear Maybell was gone. She had been diagnosed with cancer at seventeen. She had to move because she could not get treatment here; leaving was her only chance.
I received a box of letters addressed to me. In the first one, dated the day before she died, she wrote that she had been too scared to send them, fearing I had forgotten her. One letter was for my sixteenth birthday — she said she missed it because that was the day she was diagnosed with her illness. As I read through them, tears slipped down my face. So many things had been left unsaid, and I was out of time. She died believing I had forgotten her, thinking I didn’t care. I wrote a letter back, even though she would never read it. It was a weight lifted from my chest. I hope she lived a happy life, one of love and grace, before the cancer took her. I hope she was at peace.
After the heart-shattering news came, I remembered the day we were eight, playing in the rain — so joyous and blithe, laughing and smiling, my very first happy memory. I remembered the way she twirled in puddles, her laughter echoing in the wind. I still remember her face from that chilly, wintry day, for I never lost my love for my friend who was far away.
Even now, I carry her memory like a secret warmth in my chest. Every birthday, every holiday, every small triumph reminds me of her. I think of the games we played, the dances we shared, the letters she never sent, and the words we never spoke. And I smile, because though she is gone, she shaped every part of me. She was my best friend, my rock. The first person I ever danced with. The first I told my secrets to. The first I had a boyfriend with. She helped me in so many ways. So, in this letter to you, Maybell, I hope you know I love you.
By Hanna Kelleher
Here is the letter Maybell wrote to the Narrator
Dearest Friend,
Today is your sixteenth birthday. Oh my gosh how big and grown up we are getting. Well, you are at least. I had to miss your party because I had to go to the hospital. My brain cancer had come back. I never told you this but I almost died, 3 freaking times as a baby. But I lived, and boy am I glad because I met you. But this time, this time it feels different, like I won’t live through it. Honestly, the feeling sucks. I wish I could tell you in person, but who wants a lame, sick girl on the most important day of their teens. So yeah, when I move for treatment you will probably forget about me. You will probably hang out with Ash and Olivia. Just don’t become a stuck up snob. Okay? . I would have to hate you if you did. Just so you know, I don’t want to move. I would rather live two more days with you here than 20 years without you. The doctors don’t even think I’ll survive this year. Its really hard, its so hard, to think that my life, my story, is gonna end away from you. Well, I guess you will read this after I die. You probably don’t remember my name, let alone that I liked Parker Smith in 5th grade, or when I dyed my hair green. What good times those were, I wish I could have been around longer. Don’t worry, there will be more letters. I am gonna write so many for you tonight. So, so many. I hope you read them. You probably won’t even care about a stupid letter from a stupid girl. Well, I need to go. I love you girly.
Maybell
Oh Maybell. If only you knew
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
Empathy through the eyes of both characters comes easily in this fictional story. This 13 year old author found my heart strings and played a bittersweet song of love thought lost, then overflowing in it's capacity once found. A remarkable affirmation of never ending spiritual connection.
Reply
For such a young author, just starting out, this writer strikes the reader's every emotion. This short story grabs at your heartstrings throughout. It is so relatable to reader's of all ages that may have experienced similar scenarios during their lifetimes or may in the future. Ms. Kelleher, please don't lay down your pen. Looking forward to your next writing!
Reply
This story, and Maybell's character brings to mind the song "Cancer" by My Chemical Romance, specifically the lyrics: "I will not kiss you / 'Cause the hardest part of this / Is leaving you." A big aspect of her character is that she feels like a burden to those around her like the narrator, and it's particularly striking when she say "who wants a lame, sick girl on the most important day of their teens" in her letter. I especially loved the letter because we got to see how Maybell saw herself and how she projects her fears onto the narrator which is what ultimately what holds Maybell back from being honest with her friend. But we see that the narrator doesn't see Maybell as a burden even after learning about Maybell's cancer and death. The narrator has so much empathy and kindness for Maybell, even after Maybell kept this a secret and basically cut off all contact (and causing the narrator pain because of the distance) that there is another level of tragedy for Maybell in this story. She was so harsh on herself, and had such low self-esteem that she assumed that the way she saw herself was the way everyone saw her, that she deprived herself of the love and support for her friend. She could have lived a much happier life if she were kinder to herself and reached out to the narrator who would have no doubt supported her through the disease progression, and loved her even through the rough patches.
On a language level, I love the paragraph that starts with "On my wedding day..." and then the next paragraph begins with "One day, I got a ring..." It's a great play on words because the mention of wedding primes the reader to expect it to be a ring on the finger, but it is a ring on the phone. Fantastic transition between these two scenes! Also great reversal on the sentence level that reflects the greater progression of the plot, in that the ring comes after the wedding (when you'd usually expect to receive a ring before) while the narrator learns about Maybell's cancer, and the letters she wrote long after Maybell dies.
I am intrigued by the grandmother. The narrator's first instinct when Maybell called with bad news was to think that Maybell's grandmother was dead, which indicates to me that the grandmother is someone who Maybell is close, and is comfortable confiding to the narrator about worries and fears she has about her grandmother's health. This stands out in particular because while Maybell indicates a willingness to talk about her grandmother's health, she won't talk about her own to her friend. But then we do not see any mention of the grandmother for the rest of the story. I wonder if there are ways to integrate her more into the plot to highlight both the themes and characters.
Perhaps the grandmother also has cancer, and that is why the narrator automatically assumes that when Maybell calls crying it's because the grandmother has passed away from cancer. It could also be an intriguing aspect of Maybell's character to explore if she is willing to talk about her grandmother's health with the narrator but not her own. This could somehow tie into why Maybell seemed so scared to tell the narrator the truth about her diagnosis and why she never reached out but still wrote the letters. Maybe it's because it was easier for Maybell to talk about cancer when it was happening to someone else but not when it was her cancer?
I have questions about the man who called the narrator crying. Was this Maybell's father? brother? partner? If the narrator only describes him as a man does that mean she does not know him? Why would he call her then? Did Maybell leave instructions for this person to call the narrator after her death? I think in a longer version of the story, you could explore this unnamed man more and really get into the details of who he is to Maybell and the narrator. But in a flash story like this, every character and detail counts because there is a limited amount of space.
Given that Maybell's grandmother is already an established character in this story right from the opening lines, you could use her as the person who reaches out to the narrator after Maybell's death. This way you won't have to spend so much time answering questions about who the man that reached out to the narrator is because we already know the grandmother and so does the narrator. Plus if you go down the route that the grandmother also has cancer, it would be such a huge gut punch for readers to realize that Maybell died before her grandmother of the same disease. It's horrible when a parent outlives their child, and it's even more when a grandparent outlives a grandchild. This would also turn Maybell and the grandmother into foils (characters who contrast each other) for one another. They both have cancer, yet one got to live to an old age while the other died young. If you bring the grandmother in for this scene, it could also be worth having her make a final appearance in the end too, perhaps in an interaction with the narrator after the narrator has read all of Maybell's letters (this would also play into the rule of three in writing: in which a character/event/information appears three times to create a pattern and delivers a greater impact). Maybe the grandmother could deliver some insight into why Maybell was so afraid of telling the narrator about her cancer diagnosis, or the grandmother offers some words of comfort, or briefly communicates her perspective on thing because i'd imagine that if Maybell and the grandmother are foils to each other, then Maybell and the narrator are foils too in the grandmother's perspective. What must it be like for the grandmother to lose her grandaughter and then face her grandaughter's best friend who is the same age and were so close in childhood?
Also, some structural critiques: I got lost in the timeline of Maybell leaving. They are seventeen when Maybell calls to say she is leaving then we have the section: "The next night, I called, full of hope and wonder. All I got was a busy signal and an unanswered voicemail. She had promised to be at my sixteenth birthday, but she never came, and my day felt incomplete." So as I was reading I was confused because why would she promise to go to the narrator's 16th birthday party right before they left when they were already both 17? Then I realized that the birthday party was supposed to be a memory but it was not introduced as such. The scenes jump back and forth in the beginning, from the dream, to the cold day when Maybell leaves, then to a memory and it's hard to keep track. Maybe streamline so that we get the full scene of Maybell leaving and then after get into the narrator's dreams and memories?
I am also unsure why the narrator had such a strong reaction to Maybell announcing that she was leaving and assuming that they were never going to see each other again, especially since it's revealed that the two were planning to go abroad together. If the narrator doesn't know about the cancer, why wouldn't the narrator just assume that they'll reconnect with Maybell later because they both would be moving eventually to go abroad? It also ties into my question of why the narrator doubted Maybell's explanation that she couldn't come to the narrator's 16th birthday party because of an appointment. Why would the narrator doubt Maybell's explanation? Could the narrator know of Maybell's self-deprecating manner, and could there have been instances in the past where Maybell lied about her health or going to appointments because of her low self-esteem or anxiety? I also wonder about when Maybell dies. I think she dies when she and the narrator are 33, but the letter we read written when she's seventeen says that "The doctors don’t even think I’ll survive this year." which makes me inclined to think that she died in the same year that she left. It might make for a more powerful story if she wrote all those letters knowing that she was going to die before she got to send them, and it was a race against time for her to write a lifetime of letters to the narrator (like the one congratulating the narrator on the wedding). Because if Maybell dies at 33 then why did she never reach out in those decades? There are going to be more questions to answer in that case. It might be interesting if she does die at age 17 or 18, and then those letters never get sent because no one knows about them, and it's only when the grandmother is going through Maybell's things fifteen years later that she finds them and contacts the narrator as a result. It's a snowball effect of one decision leading to another.
Now, you do not have to use any of the suggestions that I give as you are the author and your vision of the story that you want to tell is most important. But even if you don't use any of my critiques in future revisions of this story, I do hope you take it as a compliment that you have created such a rich story that is so thought provoking that it made me want to spend hours thinking about the plot and characters as I was writing this monster of a comment.
You have so much potential as a storyteller, and I encourage you to keep working and keep writing. My advice is to practice, practice, practice, because talent means nothing if you are not willing to work on fundamental skills. Write that cool story in your head even if you don't think you have the skills to write it the way you want because you will always have the opportunity to rewrite it based on the bones you've established in the future. You will learn more from failure than from successes. When you get feedback from people saying something about your story isn't good or not working, or readers are not getting it: you may need a different approach to communicating the message/takeaway you want to convey to readers. Your job in this case as a writer is to bridge the difference between the story that is in your head and the story that your audience and readers are reacting to. Or it is possible that the reader is just fundamentally wrong in their interpretation of your story and it's ok to disregard the feedback. As you grow as a writer you will learn to differentiate useful feedback from unhelpful feedback, so feel free to do that with my critiques in your revisions. Use this as practice, maybe you will take all of my critiques under consideration for future drafts or none of them (after all for all that I talk about the grandmother, this story is ultimately about Maybell and the Narrator. Should you add more of the grandmother, be careful to make sure that her presence does not overshadow the rest of the story because it is ultimately the narrator's story and not the grandmother). Also, this is your story in the end and you have the power to shape it.
Good luck in all of your future writing, and thank you for reading my monster of a comment.
Reply
Hello, thank you so much for your comment. I will definitely take your advice. I am just trying to improve my writing skills. I don't think you understand how much people trying to help me means. In my next story I will try to keep the timeline strait and add more detail. Thank you so much for taking time to help a young author.
Reply
Damn... This one almost made me cry in public.
Reply
This is my first short story. Please criticize if you would like.
Reply