A Page at a Time

In grade 10 I took a media arts class with my bestfriend Abbi. There was a lot of chatting, working on this or that project but the writer in me could not sit there infront of a computer and not write something. I was not the visual artist, that was Abbi, she can draw briliantly and very creativly and she was often helping me to fix my mistakes and as I wrote and bugged her to read she caught the bugg and started too....I love my sharing :D So there we were two kids writing away! I was able to write one of my best short stories during this period and got a bit started on a sequel but sometimes I wrote the random ideas down. I had quiet a few ranging from a page to 3 and this was one of my favorites, it was only a page and I deffinatly could have continued but it felt like a good short story and I was happy with it. Its kinda like that writing exercise you do when you write a story with only 50 words, very fun. I've thought when naming a character its very important to look at what the name means or coud mean. So here it is! Enjoy!!
Your sharing bunny!
~Kitty

Living in a Name

Mada leaned against the door post, of the door to the roof, just watching me. I loved coming here but tonight had been so different. She let out a sigh and came over. She sat down on the rough blankets and threw her arms around me.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Cory.” I felt her sit back and cross her legs, leaving one arm on around my shoulders and the other resting lightly on my arm, “It was supposed to go over so well, it’s just because of what they’re doing to us, not to you. I turned to look at her, she had called me Cory, and Mada never did that.
“Cory?” I asked her, “Since when have I been Cory to you?” she smiles at me, mischief flowing in her veins and shinning in her eyes.
“Now, is a time that you need to be who you are and not who we imagined you to be, you have to show him that you can live up to a name that isn’t yours as well as your own.” She put her hand under my chin and looked at me, “I called you Cantara, when I learned how my brother loved you, it means small bridge, because that’s what you are, you are trying to bridge the gap between our worlds.
“Do you know what Cory means?” I watch her shake her head, I look down at my lap again. “It means hollow, empty. My father named me because I was to be the last of his children and he had one son, who was lame and sickly. My life was to be like his, empty and hollow, he told me that, right before he sent me to be Nara’s servant.” I felt Mada reach into my lap and take hold of my hand.
“Then we are even more sisters than I thought us to be. My mother named me Mada, which, in Arabic means ‘the end of the path’ she said I would be the last of her children, and I would be the end of my fathers love for her.” She closed her eyes and turned her face to the sky as a breeze blew our way, “You are not hollow Cory, and I was not the end of a path, not every thing is written in our name.” She turned back to me, let go of my hand and kissed my cheek, “think before you forsake my brother.” She got up and left, Mada was the beginning of my path over and over again, how could her name mean the end?