An Important Thing

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short story I wrote, something cute for my boyfriend for Christmas that I'd like feedback and suggestions for. It's written almost in children's book form, about a young girl trying to find a person to listen to her.

Submitted: December 23, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 23, 2011



There once was a little girl, a long time ago. She had big blue eyes and long blonde hair and a round kind face. And she would spend her days thinking.


Her mother would yell, “Clean the dishes! Do your homework! Why is there a B on your report card?!” and other dismissible, nonsensical things, but the little girl hadn't the time to listen – she was too busy dreaming.


She dreamed about about different times and places, and of so many adventures she thought in her heart she would not know. She dreamed of castles, and miniature elephants and giraffes that would fit in her hand, and giant boardgames she could climb on, and a swimming pool filled with Kool-aid. But most of all, she dreamed about someone who would listen to what she had to say. Because she had something important to say.


One morning, she decided to go out and find that someone. She started up in her bed and sat and pondered. She then looked over to the small, crooked tree sitting on her bedside table. It was a tree in it's last days of life, being quite picky and not watered often enough, but the little girl was still willing to give it a try.


“Hello,” she said to the tree.

But the tree said nothing.

“I have something important to say,” said the little girl.

But the tree didn't listen.


She slipped out of bed and her feet made slapping noises as she made her way out of her room and down the hardwood steps. She counted each one, and got up to 19 before being stopped by her mother's enormous desk. That's where her mother sat, clicking rhythmlessly on her keyboard and mouse.


Click Click. Clack. Click.

“Hello, mother.”

The mother yelled an unkind word at the screen.

“What do you want?” she asked coldly.

“I- I have something important to say.”

“Go do some homework.”

Click Clack. Click. Click Click.


The little girl hung her head, hopped upstairs and read a book. It was far more interesting than homework.




Many years passed. The little girl had grown much bigger. She had curves where there were once angles, and boys started paying attention to her. But she still felt alone; after all these years, still no one had cared to ask what that important thing was.


One evening, a boy took her out. He had a hard face and a beat-up jalopy and smelled of too much cologne. They were in a movie theater watching some cheesy action-adventure film when she leaned over to talk to him.


“Um, I just wanted to know-”

“Shh!” he hissed through a mouth full of popcorn with eyes glued to the screen. The explosions reflected orange light onto his shiny face.

“But, I have something important to say,” she whispered hesitantly in his ear.

“Wanna make out?” He turned to her, mouth more full of popcorn than before.

“Never mind.”


The following day at her high school, the girl was sitting on a bench in front of the science building. She watched all the different pass by and wondered about their lives. If they were as lonely as she was. She watched as an acquaintance of hers swiveled her hips as she walked up to her.


“OMG. You will never guess what just happened in chemistry. It was the funniest thing!”

“Actually, I- there's something important I wanted to tell you.” The acquaintance took a moment to stop smacking her gum and stare her down.

“Um, actually, I'm telling you something that's like, really important.”

“Oh. Okay. Sorry.”

And so the girl went on listening to stories of expensive shoes and hot boys.


One day, the girl was walking home when she saw a boy sitting on the front steps of the school. He was curious, keeping to himself, engrossed in a book. She felt welcome, so she sat down next to him, just far enough away to be okay in the event of rejection. After a few minutes, she spoke.


“Hello,” she said.

“Hello,” he said back.


And they talked. They talked about life and love and by the time the sun was almost down, it was as if they had knew each other for their entire lives.


Then she said,

“I have something important to say.”

“Well, you can tell me.”

She sat and thought in awe.

“I seem to have forgotten.”

“It's okay,” he smiled. “I'll be here when you remember.”


He walked her home. They spent the next day together. Then the next day they spent together, and the one after that, and the one after that. They spent so many days together that eventually they had spent a whole year together, laughing and living and being content. Then he walked her home for the 365th time. When they got to her doorstep, she turned to face him.


“I know now. I know the important thing,” She looked at him and he at her. “I love you.”


He smiled. He pressed his palm to hers and they interlocked fingers. And he led her to her castle, in the land of miniature animals, giant boardgames, and pools of Kool-aid.


And they were happy.

© Copyright 2020 Sammi Ponoma. All rights reserved.

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