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Write two very short stories about yourself. The word count for each story needs to be exactly 100 words. One of the stories will be true, something that really happened to you, and the other will be a lie. Don't tell which is which.
1
I remember the exact moment I admitted to myself that my childhood was ending. I was walking home from cross country practice, my backpack dragging heavy on my shoulders and my athletic bag beating against my leg with each step. I had already left high school for the university, I had recently gotten my driver’s license, and my best friend who lived behind me had unexpectedly moved away. I was rapidly becoming a blank slate, neatly cut to shape, but I felt more like my cousin’s caged hamster Herbie. He committed suicide by walking off the edge of her bed.
2
I remember one Christmas morning very clearly. The last present my brother opened was a Razor scooter with red wheels. It was the final present, so after it had been opened I assumed we would have breakfast, but my parents both stood up and looked at each other meaningfully. “We have one more present for you, Ryan,” they said, “It’s in the trunk of the car.” I was apprehensive. They walked me out to the car and presented me with an unwrapped scooter, identical to the one my brother had just opened. I cried because I didn’t want it.
1
I remember the exact moment I admitted to myself that my childhood was ending. I was walking home from cross country practice, my backpack dragging heavy on my shoulders and my athletic bag beating against my leg with each step. I had already left high school for the university, I had recently gotten my driver’s license, and my best friend who lived behind me had unexpectedly moved away. I was rapidly becoming a blank slate, neatly cut to shape, but I felt more like my cousin’s caged hamster Herbie. He committed suicide by walking off the edge of her bed.
2
I remember one Christmas morning very clearly. The last present my brother opened was a Razor scooter with red wheels. It was the final present, so after it had been opened I assumed we would have breakfast, but my parents both stood up and looked at each other meaningfully. “We have one more present for you, Ryan,” they said, “It’s in the trunk of the car.” I was apprehensive. They walked me out to the car and presented me with an unwrapped scooter, identical to the one my brother had just opened. I cried because I didn’t want it.
