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Taken for Granted

By @GoDucks10


The stone had been given to me for my tenth birthday. My aunt’s words as she handed me the small box with my present inside are still clear in my head.

“This is a worry stone, Auburn. Whenever you feel something is wrong, or something is troubling you, simply rub the stone between your thumb and pointer finger. Your worries will then float away on the breeze, as gently as a dove.”

I hadn’t believed her then. How could some little polished rock take away my worries? I had set the stone aside, moving on to my more exciting presents. Leather bound books with wonderful stories full of magic and adventure, elegant dresses trimmed with crocheted lace, and jewelry that sparkled brighter than a diamond in the sun.

But, a few months later, when I was worried about my grandparents (who I hadn’t seen since I was three) coming, I remember the stone. Hurrying over to my dresser, I pulled the bottom drawer out, the box the only thing in it, covered in a thin layer of dust from not being moved.

Following my aunt’s instructions, I removed the stone carefully from its fluff cushion and started to rub it between my thumb and pointer finger.

Then, the strangest thing happened. I felt the oddest feeling, one like no other, like my feet were lifting off the ground and I was floating.




Higher and higher.

So high that soon I was among the clouds, reaching out my hand to touch them. My fingers made contact, not resting on top, but instead falling through, like it was just a hologram I was trying to feel.

I tried again to touch it, but my hand still drifted through it. After my third attempt, I heard a sound from behind me, no louder than a whisper. I swiveled, looking all around for the source of the noise, but I could see nothing, just more and more clouds, practically begging me to try and touch them. I kept listening, trying to make out just what the voice was saying.

“Aub…urn…” I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I mouthed the word “what” and kept looking around. But instead of seeing the same clouds floating around as there had been a moment before, the white pillows were now wisps of mist, dissipating before my very eyes.

“Aub…urn…” The voice, again, breaking through the silence. “Auburn!” I jumped, the sudden yell startling me. When my feet came down, they hit hard ground instead of the air I had been standing on before.

“Auburn? Are you alright?” My mother was standing in front of me, looking concerned.

“Yeah, I’m…fine,” I stuttered, stooping down to pick up the stone I had somehow dropped.

“If you’re sure. Now, come on down and have some supper.” With that she left the room, looking over her shoulder at me, an anxious look on her face. As soon as the door shut, I hurried over to the window and pulled it open. My face and arms were hot and I needed some fresh air.

I rested my elbows on the windowsill and looked around at the familiar sight outside. Tall, old buildings painted in various shades of gray. As I looked out, I wondered the same thing that I always did when seeing that part of town. What mysteries resided in and around those buildings? Were there happy families living inside the walls? Were the insides completely different than the outsides? Bright, warm, and cozy instead of shabby, dismal, and uninviting?

Whenever I went into town, it was on the other side of the castle and only to the market. That part of town was bright and colorful, full of people and music. There were always exciting things to do and see, making it a wonderful place to visit.

But by the looks of this part of town, it was completely different, but still interesting.

I was still gazing out the window when a bird flew by, startling me and making me jump. Once the bird was out of

view, I realized that my palm felt less heavy than before. I slowly moved my head down, not wanting my fears to be confirmed.

I looked, wanting to get it over with. There was only one reaction suitable for the situation.

I screamed.

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