Short Stories

The Wishing Valley

written: Nov 08, 2016

Be careful for what you wish for...

I watched children play around, being chased by brothers, sisters, friends. Why wouldn't they? It was part of childhood.

A younger girl walked up to me, with her mom, "Hi." She said shyly.

I smiled at her, warmly.

"Hi." Her dark blue eyes looked so damn familiar, could've sworn I saw them somewhere.

"Can I have your autograph?" She asked, her mother had hopeful eyes as well.

"Certainly." Being a famous artist payed a price. I was slightly surprised that a young child like her knew my contemporary pieces but who am I to judge?

On the notepad, I quickly scribbled down something.

"Your name?" I asked.

"Penelope." 

I knew a Penelope once.

Dear Penelope,

The world is blessed with your enthusiasm. Your kind-heartedness lights up the world up. It was a pleasure meeting you. You'll leave a lingering memory in my heart.

-Anya

"Thank you so much, Anya!" Penelope squealed.

My heart clenched at her voice.

"What are you wearing?!" Mother shrieked looking at me.

I bit my lip and looked down, "You should dress like Neya. I wish she was our daughter." Naya smirked at me. "Thank you, Auntie."

I scurried out of the kitchen, but not before bumping into Penelope.

"Sorry, Anya." She beamed at me.

"Thanks, Penny." I teased ruffling her hair, though I had to reach up. Too bad she was three inches and four months older than me. Neya walked out by then, "Hey, Penny."

What a two-faced woman.

"Sup, Neya?" She said, grinning at her.

Neya grinned back, "Let's go on a picnic."

"You can come too." She quickly said when Penny hesitated.

I nodded, "To where?"

Penny's eyes lit up, "I know! Let's go to the Wishing Valley."

I laughed, "If you wish."

They said the Wishing Valley, or as many locals refer to as the Cursed Valley, was cursed, you'd make a wish, write on paper, bury it in the ground, and it would come true... when the price was paid as all wishes were. Hence the saying 'Everything comes with a price'

It was a silly legend, I assumed. 

But it had haunted me, after that fateful day.

"Anytime." I mumbled. As Penelope left with her mother, she shot one last look at me.

Was it sadness? Did she know? Was it really Penny? Or I could just be a figment of imagination. I always did tend to overthink stuff.

A pang of regret stung my heart as I stood up to walk home.

I walked in a Starbucks, lost in my thoughts.

"May I have your order?" The barista asked for the fifth time, annoyed.