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Story Writing Competition!
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Rubber Stamp
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It Was Never Random

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O.P. Story Writing Competition!
ast week i participated in an inter school story writing competition. we were given a line and we had to make a story using that line as the starting (thats the line in bold). we had one hour to do so. and schools from all over the country participated. and i won the second prize.
heres my story. plz comment.

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The door swung open at a touch. It was a genuine old house, teeming with old carvings and with an excellent old staircase with dark lonely rooms and corridors. Jonathan Marshall gazed down the length of the massive house, his heart racing and mind filled with wonders of extreme fame and richness that was probably lurking somewhere around the huge villa. As he looked around the web covered hallway, looking for a sign of life or recent inhabitation, his thoughts wandered to the point where it all started for him and how he ended up hundreds of miles away from town, in this eerie house.
This very morning, Jonathan Marshall had been quietly sipping tea in his cheaply furnished office, going through the worst days of his detective career. The cases were few and far between and most of those that came were petty complains of lost watches and chains. Even though Jonathan had thought of changing professions several times in the past month, something had always held him back. He did not really know what.
So, when the tall, slim man, wearing complete black and hiding his face behind a black mask strode into his office that morning, Marshall was caught in a wave of surprise, shock and a deep sense of excitement. Without wasting a moment, the unidentifiable man started off with his hard-to-believe story. The man had been an old associate of the most dangerous and feared criminal in the whole of the country, James Drook. But due to some internal feuds and differences with crime-king, the man had turned rebel and was now ready to go to any extent to get Drook behind bars. For this he needed Marshall, since he didn’t trust the regular police. The man was ready to give out the exact location of Drook’s hiding place, a place for which the police had been on the lookout since past so many years. All the man wanted in return was complete discretion.
Hearing the man’s narration, Marshall was left totally dumbstruck. The man’s voice sounded oddly familiar, but Jonathan did not care; at the moment, he did not care of anything else. This was the chance he had been waiting for since so many years. Marshall was never afraid of danger; he only wanted the right opportunity. Finally, his day had come where he could reach the highest pedestal of success. Without a moment of hesitation, Marshall took up the case.   
And so, barely ten hours later, Jonathan Marshall found himself in this age-old country house, completely alone, peering down eerie corridors, his mind and heart totally alert and active. This was the house which provided the hiding-place for the most notorious criminal of the decade and Marshall was going to capture him.
He moved along the right side corridor, his hand gripped around the butt of his revolver, but reaching a complete dead-end to the passage-way, decided to take the left corridor. This was where Jonathan finally saw a flickering beam of light falling on the ground before him through a slightly open door. His heart skipping beats and hand clutched even more tightly around his weapon, Marshall slowly opened the door. What he saw left him in a state of complete bewilderment and shock! As he stood at the open door, Jonathan saw two of his best friends standing in front of him, their grinning faces glimmering in the light from the burning fireplace. One of them was even wearing the same black dress which the unknown visitor had worn in the morning. A black face mask lay on the floor.
As Jonathan looked around in shock and surprise, his eyes landed upon a magnificent birthday cake. Even though he could still feel his hopes and dreams crashing down, he slowly began to realize the complete story. In his state of sadness and depression owing to his low days at work, Jonathan had forgotten even his own birthday. But his friends had remembered, and had thought of a complete plan which surely would have lead Jonathan to them, for nothing else would have made Jonathan do the same.
As realization crept into Jonathan’s mind, his shock momentarily turned to anger but then to thankfulness and gratefulness towards his friends’ intentions. And even though Jonathan Marshall was not going to be famous, even though he was far from capturing any high-profile criminal, this was day was surely one of the best days of his life.     


Rahul Chauhan

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This post was edited on 11-29-2005 at 05:14 PM by Rubber Stamp.
11-29-2005 05:14 PM
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Messages In This Thread
Story Writing Competition! - by Rubber Stamp on 11-29-2005 at 05:14 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by user27089 on 11-29-2005 at 05:17 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by hmaster on 11-29-2005 at 05:26 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by Rubber Stamp on 11-29-2005 at 06:11 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by Negro_Joe on 11-29-2005 at 06:56 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by user27089 on 11-29-2005 at 07:22 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by Negro_Joe on 11-29-2005 at 07:45 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by user27089 on 11-29-2005 at 08:24 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by Negro_Joe on 11-29-2005 at 08:47 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by prashker on 11-29-2005 at 08:53 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by hmaster on 11-29-2005 at 09:20 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by Negro_Joe on 11-29-2005 at 10:29 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by Voldemort on 11-30-2005 at 04:03 AM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by Rubber Stamp on 11-30-2005 at 12:18 PM
RE: Story Writing Competition! - by John Anderton on 11-30-2005 at 01:26 PM


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