Hi there again. This is a story I wrote a few days ago for an assignment.
The word limit was 400, but that did not work out.
(P.S. It seems that Medium does not have a great comment system, which sucks. Instead, you can email me at armaankhurana17@gmail.com to send me any writing-related messages.)
The sun shone through the treetops, casting beams of light on the roofs of houses. Flocks of birds flew high up in the sky, making ever-changing patterns. From the window, he could see the glittering, shimmering lake and the shiny red of apples hanging from the branches.
He hoped that this Sunday would be as idyllic as it seemed.
Half an hour later, he walked out the front door. As if to avoid coming near others, our Helper stayed away from the streets, instead cutting through the dense foliage as long as he could.
While jumping over a collapsed tree trunk, he tripped. Rolling down the dirt, he hit his head on a wooden fence. Fortunately not injured, he shook off his dizziness and tried to get up. However, he heard a voice, “Oh god, are you alright?”. He turned his head in the direction of the voice and saw a Boy running towards him.
“I’m fine, it’s alright-”, he protested, but as soon as the Boy came near him, he felt a Chill run down his back. ‘…and there goes my Sunday’, the Helper thought to himself.
Since he was a child, he always felt a Chill when he walked by someone who needed help that day. This ‘help’ ranged in severity, from a cat in a tree to being mugged, but he always had to assist them. Unless the issue was resolved, the Chill would get worse and worse. He didn’t know exactly what would happen if he didn’t help, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out.
Right now, the Chill was almost negligible, but as the day progressed, it would get worse. With a sigh of resignation, he(who we shall refer to as ‘the Helper’) surrendered his day off to the well-being of a stranger yet again.
A few hours later, he was hiding in a bush, watching the Boy play basketball. Creepy as it seemed, it was essential to them both.
By this point, the chill had worsened by a perceptible degree, negating the warmth of the late afternoon sun.
A few minutes later, the ball rolled into the bushes, right in front of the Helper’s feet. He scrambled into the trees before the boy could get there. He held his breath and hoped that nobody noticed him. However, that was too lucky for him.
A twig snapped under his foot and out of surprise, he stepped on a dead leaf. The boy peered into the woods to see if there was anyone there. Thankfully his friend called him back to the court, and the Helper breathed a sigh of relief.
It was night, and despite the air still being warm, the Helper’s breath was smoky. The chill had become far worse. His teeth chattered, his legs shook and he was beginning to go numb. However, he was watching the boy from the shadows. It was nearing midnight; never had his ‘help’ gone so long. He looked at his watch, it was nearing 11:00.
Suddenly, the boy sat on a bench and began to cry, and the Helper realised what he had to do. Emerging from the dark, he sat down, keeping some distance from the boy. After a few awkward moments, the Boy looked at the Helper, and recognition flashed in his eyes.
I will not tell you what they spoke about that day, as what they spoke about is too personal to narrate to others. However, as the Helper spoke to the Boy, he could feel the Chill wearing off, instead replaced with a feeling of Warmth. He knew that the Chill was gone, and it would not return. However, he could still sense when people required help, and he still felt that feeling of Warmth when he helped them.