Name: Elizabeth Bagley

2AP - Short Story Summative Due Friday, March 10th, 2023

You will create your own short story. Your story can be set wherever and whenever you’d like. It can be
drama, horror, fantasy or science fiction; it can also be something more modern or edgy.

You will have to: Also:

1. follow the plot of a story ● should be 4-5 pages in length, double spaced
2. Make sure your main character is well-developed ● come up with a creative title
3. Make sure to identify your theme at the end of the ● language that appeals to the senses (imagery,
story description, literary devices)
● proper spelling, grammar, and punctuation
● Dialogue
● Remember to use strong adjectives, and make good
word choices.

Write your story below the line:

I love road trips. The temporary escape from reality, with the open roads before me felt so freeing. My

journey across the US was coming to a close and in a few short weeks I would be back at my home in the big

city, back to my monotonous job for another multi-million dollar corporation, back to being just another

average citizen. My days had often felt as if they were planned out for me in advance, as if I was but an

automated version of a human being, going about to pre-programmed tasks and events. From rising in the

morning and drinking my coffee to spending hours filing tax reports to my last waking moments before I drifted

off to sleep, every day was the same. I was glad for this distraction. I felt a new man once again, like I had

finally found a bit more of what made me, me. These summer road trips had always been joyous to me; I took

them every year. I saw different sights and different states each time, however. No two journeys were ever the

same, and I liked it that way. There was something to be said for monotony however, always knowing what was

to happen next. Nothing is ever wrong with being prepared. And many people like to live their lives that way,

with the sense of rhythm and purpose that only repetition can bring.

I, however, was much unlike those people. Dull everyday tasks, mundane social life, and never feeling

like I really belonged in the big city. I was an adventurer, I always had been. From the time I was a small boy, I

was always exploring, every chance I got, I took it for all it was worth. Adding experiences and memories to

myself and who I was, instead of titles and positions, money and nice clothes, everything any big city person
would want. I saw the sun setting behind me as I passed a small sign stuck next to the side of the road that read,

“Welcome to New Ashford”, and under that, the sign read, “Population 250”. I planned to drive through the

small town and drive well into the night, following the road wherever it may take me, pulling over when

needed, to rest. As all adventurers know, the adventure never really ends. But I knew my plans would not come

into fruition as soon as I had hoped, as my car slowly puttered to a stop. I eased it over to the side of the road,

not that there was any chance of another car coming down this road for days. It was only then that I realized I

had not seen another car for hours; I had been driving alone down this deserted road for quite some time.

Peculiar, as it was normal to run into another traveller, a like minded individual like myself was always a

delight to come across, but there were also “the crazies” as people called them. Witches and wizards who had a

dark spell cast on them and they were never the same. No amount of magical therapy could help them and they

ran off, never to be seen or heard from again. That is why those kinds of spells were not taught anymore. They

were far too powerful and dangerous for just anyone to wield. Only high up government officials were allowed

to know them, they made sure of that. I was not a supporter of people of authority having so much control over

the people, let alone them using their authority to place mind wiping spells on any unsuspecting person who just

so happened to know “the curses”, wiping them of their entire history of memories and all sense of self. I was

glad I had never learned those spells and suffered that fate. We were only taught the spells we needed to know,

the spells that were essential to life. I got out of my car, and with muttering a few words under my breath, the

parts I needed to fix my car's engine came whizzing from the nearest auto parts store and landed neatly in my

hands. I had the engine fixed up in a matter of minutes and was ready to continue on. Pausing, I decided that it

was getting late. Perhaps I would stay the night in this small town and continue my journey in the morning.

After a few minutes driving down the road I reached the edge of the small town. It was so small you could see

right down the main street, from one end to the other, and could see beyond it the road continuing off into the

distance, until it reached the horizon. Maybe the road went on and on, until the end of the Earth, and stopped

right where it appeared to meet the horizon. Maybe that was the end of it all, just a journey to the edge of

nothingness, nothing beyond but a sheer drop into an eternal abyss. I knew that to be not true, but it was still

something queer to ponder.

 My pondering came to a halt as I pulled into a parking lot, if you could call it that. It was barely large

enough to hold seven or eight cars. None of the spots were occupied, giving the lot a vacant and eerie feel. I had

not seen another soul in this town since my arrival. The neon sign, which simply said “INN”, above the small

building flickered its near burnt out letters, flickering down to barely illuminate the small doorway that stood

almost hidden in the shadows. As I turned my vehicle around, to fit snugly between the faded lines, there was a

sudden thump from behind my vehicle. I stopped suddenly, wondering what could have happened. As I exited

my vehicle and walked around the far side, I was shocked by what I saw. I had been expecting to lay eyes upon

a large pothole perhaps, which I had assumed came from from the town's seeming desertedness; there would be

minimal upkeep on the roads and lots. But I was much mistaken, for before my lay what appeared at first glance

to be the spitting image of Yolanda Reed, a famous reporter from Boston who had vanished from the face of the

Earth around five years ago. There were many rumours and theories as to what had happened to the poor

women. Many thought she had been taken by “the crazies” to their gathering spot far, far away from human

civilization, never to be seen again, while still others thought it was just such of an elaborate hoax, a

government conspiracy to keep the whole world on their feet and not thinking of “the crazies”, trying to cover

up their wrongs that had caused these abnormalities in these people in the first place. Surely my eyes deceived

me, weary from long weeks of summer travels. Blinking and rubbing my watering eyes, I again glanced down

before my feet. And upon further inspection, I realized that this woman was not really a woman. She seemed to

be made from a shiny metal, colour matched to every single feature on the day she was last spotted, from her

glowing auburn hair to the freckles on her cheeks and nose, right down to her pleated black skirt that was the

symbol of her unique style and statues. Everything was oddly the same, so picture perfect, yet so utterly

unnerving. My mind was beginning to race, but I calmed myself and returned to the present moment and the

realities that surrounded me. I gently picked up the women. I had decided to call her that as it had seemed the

right thing to do, as if I was respecting her dignity in a sense. I walked slowly and carefully inside with her,

careful not to hit any part of her on my way through the narrow doorway. Upon entering the inn, I was greeted

by a dimly lit room. There was nothing in this room except the welcome desk, which had started to crumble and

fall apart. The carpet had gathered dust, as had every other surface in this room. It was becoming clearer to me
that this town was not the quaint and quiet town it seemed from the outside. layed the woman down on the

floor, wiping away dust from around her with my shoes. I knelt over her, trying to figureout what was wrong

with her, what had happened to her and if there was a plausible way to fix her. Examining her back, I found a

switch. It was unlabeled. Unsure of how to proceed, I paused for just a moment. I realized if I was ever going to

get answers this woman might be my only hope.

Cautiously, I flipped the switch. Silence. Then a buzzing, wiring noise started to emanate from the

depths of the woman and she suddenly sat bolt upright. Startled, I jumped back in shock and fright.

“Who are you?” I asked the mysterious woman

“I am Yolanda Reed,” the woman answered me.

I was right! It was her, I was certain now. I had to ask her more questions, find out what had happened to her

and why she had gone missing. She stared at me, the beautiful green eyes that made her so famous, unblinking,

unmoving, and emotionless. This seemed like such an enormous subject, how could I ask everything I wanted to

know?

“What happened to you,” I asked her, “why aren’t you human and who did this to you?”

“I came here to visit close family that live here. They told me that one day, 15 years ago, the

government and the owner of this town came over and called a meeting. All the townspeople gathered together

and he told us that he had chosen to preserve the town forever. He told us we were all going to be turned into

automatons and placed in our favourite spots throughout the town. I tried to leave but then they got me to. They

put me out in the parking lot so I could always be greeting anyone who came to the inn. They said they would

come and check on us in 2005, I’m not sure when that is but I hope it is soon” she said. Her voice remained so

expressionless and she showed no facial expressions.

2005? That was 5 years ago! I knew that by the looks of this town, no living person had stepped foot

inside it since Yolonda arrived. She had arrived and then never been seen by the outside world ever again. I was

freaked out! And then a thought struck me like a bolt of lightning, ‘What about me?’ and dread started to creep

down my back like cold sweat. I felt my breathing become shallow and my head spun as I started to fear the
worst. I had to get out of here now! I got up and swiftly crossed to the door. I glanced back at Yolanda, quietly

sitting on the floor, and decided that I would have to leave without her. I could tell by the vacant expression on

her face and the lifelessness in her eyes that she was already gone. I ran out to the lot and looked wildly around.

I did not see my car anywhere. I did a double take, wondering if in my shock and panic my brain had missed a

few details. But before me lay the empty lot and as I looked around, dread, fear, and panic consumed my soul as

I realized my worst fear may happen sooner than I thought!

The theme of my story is enjoy life to the fullest, no matter what outside forces try to get in your way. Don’t let

a fear or someone who wrongfully has authority stop you from being who you truly are.

Rubric

Level 4 Level 3 Level 2 Level 1 R/I

Understanding/Knowledge
● Knowledge and Understanding short story ● demonstrates considerable knowledge
and understanding of the short story
● Understanding of the elements involved in Superb ● demonstrates understanding of a short Adequate Emerging Very
creating short story story limited
Thinking/Inquiry
● demonstrate ability to develop character ● considerable ability to develop a
● demonstrate ability to logically organize ideas Superb character
● creative ● considerable organization of ideas Adequate Emerging Very
● creative limited
Communication
● Communicate ideas accurately, clearly and ● considerable ability to communicate
effectively using different styles clearly and accurately

Superb ● considerable ability to use language Adequate Emerging Very

● proper use of language conventions(grammar, conventions limited
spelling, punctuation, etc)
● considerable ability to use the writing
● use of the writing process process
Application
● ability to apply knowledge and elements of the Superb ● Considerable ability to apply Adequate Emerging Very
short story knowledge limited