Crappy Stories

The first story I remember writing was in 4th grade. It was about a Godzilla-type monster that suddenly appears in NYC. Of course it smashes buildings down and gets attacked by the military, but I remember that at some point the narrator zooms into the monster’s perspective. It’s revealed that the monster was just confused. He didn’t know how to deal with the strange new town.

Thinking about it years later, I realized that that monster was me. 4th grade was my first year as a student in the United States. A couple of months earlier I had immigrated to New York City from Dominican Republic. Without me knowing it, I had been writing about my personal experiences, about an issue that my 9-year-old mind couldn’t quite comprehend back then but had to wrestle with.

That realization came to me like a lighting bolt. How fascinating, I thought. A crappy 4th grade story had powerful knowledge within it. It had helped me express and unwind some of the issues I was consciously and unconsciously experiencing.

I’d like to dedicate my Medium to these crappy stories. I’ve been writing short stories since High School, sharing them with kind friends. A lot of them are bad, Very bad, and I had banished them into Google Drive, never to share them again. But that 4th grade story kept speaking to me, saying that there’s something to learn from these bad stories. Something that others can enjoy and learn as well.

Every couple of weeks I’ll post a crappy story. I’ll try not to edit them at all and leave them as they were when I finished them back then. I wrote try because I know I’ll edit it at least a little bit—I’ll spot something I just can’t bear to see written anymore, a misplaced comma, a crude word. I’ll really try my best to leave them as they were though. Just to make sure, all of these stories are fiction. I was never a Godzilla-type monster.

Anyway, here’s a crappy story I wrote in 2008. You can hear me read it or you can read it below. Enjoy—

A Day in Bliss and all of its Exuberance

You said you’d call so I waited by the phone all day. I didn’t sleep the night before thinking. You were gone what two days? Then the phone rang.

You said, “Baby, it’s me. Come open the door downstairs.”

“Ok,” I said, putting on my shoes. I walked down the brown carpet stairs and opened the door for you. I think you hugged me and said I missed you and kissed me on the cheek making me blush. My heart was beating fast. Then we held hands and walked upstairs. We locked the door and put the radio on, loud. Some Classical music was playing. I can’t remember who. We took each other’s clothes off and had sex on the floor since my bed was too loud and the guy next door was kind of an asshole and spread rumors around like crazy.

Reading week hadn’t ended so we stayed in my room most of the day and listened to a lot of Classical music. In the afternoon you took me to lunch in town, to one of your favorite sandwich places on Main Street. A lot of townies looked at us as we walked, because we were so damn different than them.

At the sandwich place I ordered a Cubano. I can’t remember what you ordered but you bought a Snapple. I know that for sure because you loved them. The table where we sat had a metal design of flowers on the surface. It was about one in the afternoon on a spring day in May. Sunlight was coming through the front entrance glass. Two women sitting by the window looked very much like townies in brown pants and blue and white sweaters respectively. The sunlight was shining on their table, on their sandwiches and drinks.

You were wearing a black shirt with “Pot’s Hot” in white letters spread across the chest. The restaurant walls were green, and black and white pictures of people smiling were up on the wall. The sandwiches came and we ate.

What did you think about me that night? When I started telling you about Canada and the friend I met there, and how he was just a sex buddy. What did you think about when I said that? You were quiet for a long time. I wish I hadn’t said that.

I felt uncomfortable later that night when you were looking for sex positions on the internet. I buried my head in the pillow. You were talking but it was all a big blank.