The Queen sat at her throne fiddling her thumbs. She couldn’t go back to her bedroom and read since apparently she had duties. Everyone looked up to her, so naturally she couldn’t let them down. But lately, there hasn’t been anything for her to do. The King has been out with his generals planning the next move to attack. She wasn’t particularly worried about him because they’ve only lost a couple wars and won plenty more. All the King does all day when he is home is go the pub with his military buddies, so when people think the King is running the kingdom, they’re wrong. It’s the Queen. With the harvesting season over and the holiday party planning over, all the Queen has is to receive weekly reports spoken by the businessmen of the kingdom. And the Queen has to sit through all 103 businesses. Afterwards, she just gives a stamp of approval and the businessmen go back to well, managing their businesses. Besides that, there’s nothing else that a Queen does. Sometimes she gets to play the role of the high judge and chicken stealing criminals get sentenced a fine and a couple weeks in jail. Queens may look all evil when we do sentencing but those are just if you either mess with their chickens or family, but usually they look evil because they’ve got their classic royal resting bitch face otherwise known as RRBF. Sometimes more exciting things happen. Like last month, one of her noblemen wanted to marry a farmer’s daughter. The Queen doesn’t know who came up with the stupid rule that people of different clans can’t get married unless if they get approval from the Queen, but the Queen from this kingdom usually approves of all these inter-clan marriages unless the guy is definitely a creepy guy. Maybe the person who came up with the rule was also a Queen who was bored out of her mind. The wedding ended up being a lot of fun with lots of fire tricks and delicious food courtesy of her own personal chef. Usually her personal chef cooks only for her, but the Queen pulled some strings on this one because her noblemen and the farmer’s daughter just looked so perfect together. The Queen sighed as she saw the King sleeping off the ale in the back. The businessman for John’s Family Pub finished stating his losses and gains and the Queen stamped his papers without even reading the numbers. She thought to herself, “I can’t wait until lunch.”
I’m back at it with the stories!
Would you believe it that in all 4 years of my college year, I’ve never set foot in a bar? It was just that I didn’t like the appeal of having to dress up a certain way, drink too much, and be social even when I was of drinking age. At night, I was just too sleepy and needed my quiet after a long day of classes. Last weekend, I finally went to a bar and it was exactly what I was looking for – a buzzing atmosphere of familiarity. Granted, it was early in the night, so it wasn’t as rowdy yet.
This story focuses on the narrator and two girls, Anna and Susie. The narrator is in a conflict about a fight that happened at a bar a couple hours before while she reflects in the peace of her own home. The narrator impulsively heads back to the bar to fill in memory gaps when she finds herself face to face with the problem again, although Anna reminds her that she was initially the problem.
There’s two lingering themes in this piece – perfection and confrontation. You could also throw in the pairs, fear and calamity as well. Since the narrator was so absorbed with the cause of the bar fight and the mess that it made both physically and emotional, she failed to realize her involvement. At the end, it cost her both her dignity and her white crop top. I intentionally chose a white crop top because of how the color white symbolizes purity. Anna’s white crop top and the narrator’s crop top ended up being tainted by causes of destruction. You can wash out blood and have the crop top look new again, but you can’t always sew up a tear and have it look new again. There’s a “scar” on the shirt.
As for confrontation, the narrator had a brief conversation with the bartender about the fight, but he just mentions how he tends to keep out of things to avoid further problems. This all became contradicted as the narrator found herself being confronted with the underlying problem of the bar fight and refusing the acknowledge it. All along the narrator’s path of escape from confrontation, she ends up causing even more problems, small problems, but still annoying.
This piece focuses more on common human behavior. Trust me, I’m not an alien just observing behavior and writing cryptic stories. 😉 Sometimes issues are too big for us to handle, so we ask for help to avoid it causing further problems. Sometimes we underestimate how big an issue is and neglect to address it until it’s too late and ends up harming ourselves in the process. The lesson is: you can’t always think about yourself because more than you realize, there’s always someone else who’s also being affected.
What are your interpretations of Bar Fight?
Thanks for reading!
The summer breeze gently rolled through the window causing the chiffon curtains to billow out. I lay still on my bed, but my mind was racing. I groaned and closed my eyes, seeing flashes of a girl named Anna and another girl named Susie fighting at the bar. The sounds of their fists smacking their faces and their shrieks sent chills down my spine. And yet I still stood there, gawking as I watched hair get ripped out of Anna’s head and she retaliated by slapping Susie across the face. “You bitch!” Susie screeched as she punched Anna right in the nose, sending blood streaming down her face. I shuddered as I remembered how brightly red the blood was and how it stained her white crop top and ran streaks across her shorts. And yet I made a face and walked out of the bar, not even giving a thought about them. I just wanted to make sure my white crop top stayed pristine. I got up with a grunt and glanced at the clock. The red display glared at me. 2:35am. I found myself heading down the same street as I did at 11:46pm to the bar with the sound of my heels matching the other girls as we marched to the bar. It had been a long week after all. The bar was still crowded when I went there with bodies still moving to the music and drinks being swayed back and forth with each rap lyric. The bartender looked at me and said, “What can I get for you?” I shook my head and said, “So you know that fight that happened earlier? Do you uh, know what happened afterwards?” The bartender said, “Look, I don’t get involved with the drama that goes on here. I just serve drinks and that’s it. I find that messing with other people’s business gets me in trouble too much.” I smiled and backed away, accidently knocking over someone’s drink. “Hey watch it!” they shouted at me as I backed up into a lady. “Hey! You’re going to pay for this drink!” she said as she glared at me. I shook my head and said, “I’m sorry. I don’t have any money.” The lady rolled her eyes at me and turned her back to me. I spotted a clear path between the bodies and started power walking through the crowd. I thought I heard someone call for me, so I turned and found myself face to face with Anna. I smiled stiffly and tried to move out of her way, but Anna blocked me. “You’re going to pay for what you did.” she hissed in my ear, the sweet alcohol scent still lingering. I stammered as I slipped out the door, “I’m sorry. I don’t have any money.” But before I could run home, Anna grabbed my crop top. I closed my eyes to anticipate whatever she was going to do. “You’re like a rat, you know that? You can run all you want, but you’re going to find yourself with fewer friends if you keep on avoiding the bigger issue.” she said menacingly as she let me go. I ran home as fast as I could. My clock read 4:03am, the red display matching the blood that was on Anna’s shirt. I gasped and sighed with relief and almost screamed as I looked down at my shirt, expecting to see blood. Instead, I saw a large, gaping tear where Anna had hold of me.
The night was unusually cold for a night in June. A breeze rustled the palm trees, sending shivers down my spine. I was starting to enjoy my moment of peace when a loud alarm started blaring throughout the city. It was time to go. I raced back towards the city, ignoring everyone who was running in the opposite direction. My mother called out, “What are you doing? We have no time!” I ran up to her, gave her a hug and said, “Just trust me, mom.” She hesitated, but let me go. I reached the highest point in our city and took a deep breath. I could hear the mind shattering alarm mixed with the terrified screams of the residents. Yet from where I stood, everything looked small and it was exactly where I needed to be. I extended my 7-foot wings and scanned the horizon for the impending danger. Where was it? What was causing my city so much terror? From the corner of my eye, I spotted a looming black cloud toppling trees left and right. I leaped from my perch and soared towards the danger and spotted a small and terrified child in the middle. The child cried out, “Help me! I didn’t know I was capable of doing this!” Without thinking, I wrapped my wings around the child and said, “It’s okay, my child. I will protect you.” Like an extinguished fire, the child calmed down, terror ceased, and the night was still again.
Submitted to Duolingo Stories
The scent of magnolias overcame me as I walked along home. It was a comforting scent that reminded me of nights with my mom. I would lie in her arms and she would tell me about the drama that happened at work. “I don’t know why Sharon would always think that I’m stealing from the office storage! What would I do with 50 boxes of paper clips?” my mom laughed and sighed. “I’m getting tired. You should head to bed, it’s a big day tomorrow!” Somewhere in my mind as a nine year old, I wanted to give her advice because when I was lying on her chest, I could feel her ragged breaths and skipping heart. I knew from my science classes that hearts and lungs shouldn’t make that kind of rhythm, but my mom’s did. “It just can’t be helped.” I said to myself. “You just have to keep going.” I said as I continued walking down the street back to my apartment.
The next morning, I woke up with a bottle in my hand. I don’t even remember going out to drink because I swore to myself that I wouldn’t have anymore alcohol in my house after what happened last time. I groaned and rolled over to my side. “Where is my damn phone? Please don’t tell me I lost it.” I muttered as I dug through a pile of my clothes. I managed to find my phone in the pocket of a pair of jeans I like to call, butt enhancers. I only wear those jeans when I go out. “Fuck. I went out last night. What did I do this time?” I said as I scrolled through my text messages. It seemed like my “friends” texted me right as I got home saying if anyone wanted to go out for a couple drinks and I was already regretfully too deep in my reminiscing to even realize that I was going to do more damage than intended. I laughed out loud and shouted to no one in particular. “According to this fucking group text, I hooked up with my ex-last night! Good thing I had the right mentality to tell him that I didn’t want to sleep with him! Goodness gracious!” Without realizing it, tears started flowing down my face. “The day hasn’t even fully started yet and I’m already crying! Wonderful!” I bawled and cursed as I struggled to get out of bed and make myself a little more presentable. In my frantic state, I somehow managed to drink 2 cups of water, call up my best friend from high school and get out the door to meet her at our favorite donut spot.
I arrived at the store and I couldn’t get out of my car. I pulled down the sun visor and stared at myself. I was still wearing last night’s eyeliner and my hair was so greasy that I could make fries from them. Usually I don’t care about what I looked like, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about my mom. If she saw my like this, she would tell me to get myself together and move on. “Mothers! They just know exactly what to say, don’t they!” I screamed as tears started flowing down my face again. “I hate this. I hate this pain I feel. Why does it have to be me?” I rested my head on the steering wheel and closed my eyes, comforted by the silence that surrounded me. A sharp rapping at the window startled me. My best friend was frantically knocking at my window and screaming my name. “I’m okay!” I called out and opening the door. “I was just so tired. I think I just fell asleep. Sorry about that!” My best friend rolled her eyes and said, “Cut the bullshit.” she reached over and wiped my eyeliner from my cheek. She pulled a hat from her purse and said, “Donuts are on me and let’s talk in the car, okay?”
I hope you’re having a good week so far!
Did you notice that 2 out of the 3 quick pieces I’ve written this month are sleep based? Maybe it’s because I’ve written these stories when I’m about to go to bed or because I’ve realigned my sleep schedule and it feels great! But have you ever realized how much time you spend on your bed? We spend about a third of our lives sleeping and you definitely do other things in bed like watch movies and read books, so it makes sense that most of my stories revolve around sleep. 😉
This story is basically about a woman who wakes up from a nightmare and went out to look for the “murderer”, but her boyfriend noticed and reassured her before going back to bed. It’s a simple, sweet story and I like to think that love doesn’t always have to be sloppy kisses, sobbing tears and sex. It can be simple acts of understanding and cherishing your significant other’s time. It’s actually simpler than you think!
Thanks for reading my short piece! I hope you enjoyed it!
I woke up with a start. Someone was getting murdered and I could’ve prevented it. The sight, the memory was so vivid that I was almost convinced that it had happened, yet no matter what I did to tell myself that it was just a dream, my mind wouldn’t rest. My eyes darted around the pitch black room, scanning the warped shadows as I tried to distinguish the shadows between reality and mind tricks. As I started to sit up to scan the room again, a soft snore startled me. I smiled as I saw my boyfriend sleeping peacefully, curled on the side. I crept out of bed without disturbing him and looked around in every corner. I made sure to check under the desk, but no one was there. “Honey? What are you doing under there?” a groggy voice called out in the dark. I crawled out from under the desk and saw my confused and tired boyfriend awkwardly standing in the shadows. “I had a nightmare and dreamt that there was a murderer, so I got really paranoid and wanted to look–“ my boyfriend wrapped me in a tight hug and kissed me on the forehead. “It’s okay. I’ll protect you. Let’s go back to sleep.” he said as he led me back to bed. He tucked me in and crawled in after me. Within minutes, we were fast asleep. The next morning, I woke up to the morning sun and my boyfriend’s bright eyes. “What did you dream of?” he whispered. “Eating endless chocolate cake with you.” I said with a smile. He closed his eyes and laughed. “Good, no more murderers.”