[Summer Contest Entry 2012] Cafe of Dreams

It was in slow motion. The squeal of rubber being torn apart by asphalt lasted for eternity and a disgusting groan of metal grinding together pierced her ears. That look, that strange amalgamation of shocked fear in the other driver’s eyes was unforgettable. His head bobbed mid-air before slamming into the windshield. Glass was everywhere: In his seat, in his dashboard, in his body, but he made it. Mom didn’t.

Sweating, Sarah woke up. Her dad sat adjacent to her as he waited. What was that dream? Maybe she had already accepted Mom wasn’t going to make it, or maybe she was preparing herself. As if both a curse and a gift, that bright red, “In Operation” sign blinked before shutting off. Dad hadn’t slept in two days and his breath smelled like a disgusting mix between tobacco, coffee, and eggs. (Excellent use of the sense of smell.) His hair was so unkempt, individual patches seem matted to each other. Yet, he rocketed out of his seat.

The doors swung open. The doctor looked at Sarah, then Dad. She didn’t even need a response, she already knew. Dad’s heart broke ->as his back slumped over. As he dragged his feet over,<- (Reading these two similar sentence structures so close together I feel disrupts your flow. They both begin and end the same way) he tried to keep a strong facade for her. He held onto her tightly.

“Sarah.” Sarah looked deeply into her father’s bloodshot eyes.

Dad whispered, “Mom-“ he paused a bit, “Honey. We’ll get through this together. We still have each other.”

For the first time in the seventeen years, she acted selfishly and said, “I don’t want you, I want mom!”

Dad’s grip loosened. Though he was clearly twice the size of her, he just seemed so weak- so fragile. She could have apologized; she could have said, “I’m sorry.” Instead, she ran. (I really felt for the father at this point. Great description of his lack of strength in this situation.)

Where she was running, Sarah had no idea. She needed to get out- she needed to leave. Her chest thumped and her mouth gasped for air. Her request was met with the burning summer heat. Every gulp of air seemed to ignite her lungs ablaze. It grew impossible to even breathe. As her body gave one final tremble as she fell over, she shouted for help. Silence. There was nothing, only nature. Not a single trace of humanity and no one to come save her. This was it, she thought, this was how it ended.

Out in the distance, Sarah heard someone running. Finally, a rumbling baritone voice asked, “Are you okay?”

A young man held a cool towel to her. He wiped off her sweat and carried her in his strong arms. Tired, Sarah slowly closed her eyes.. (A random second period)

By the time she came to, she was in (makes a big difference) a heavily air-conditioned café. She shivered and thought of going back outside. Someone had put a glass of water in front of her so she gulped it down. It reinvigorated her and she finally felt alive once again. Now alert, she looked around where she was. The young man appeared out of the back of the store.

“Are you alright?”

Sarah nodded and peeped, “Where am I?”

“FAKKU!,” he responded.

“Fak… ku?”

“Right.”

He disappeared and came back with an espresso. He began pouring milk into a shape.

“What’s that?” she asked.

He proudly replied, “It’s a hen.”

She blankly stared, “Wearing a tie…”

“Right.”

Sarah began laughing hysterically. At this point, she wasn’t sure what she was even laughing about, but something just seemed ridiculous- or at least it was just different.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

Sarah took a deep breath and replied, “Sarah… Reeve.” She sipped the coffee and licked the foam off. Her hair tumbled over and spread foam everywhere. Jacob (I wouldn't list his name before he says it, but that's just me.) chuckled as he parted her hair for her as he wiped the foam off. He leaned on the counter and looked intently at her. His gentle hazelnut eyes matched the color of her hair. He was wearing a vest, shirt, and a red tie. His long hair seemed slightly unkempt, but kept a certain style. He was hot. She asked, “What’s your name?”

“Jacob Grady.”

Sarah followed up with, “What is FAKKU!?”

“It’s where imagination comes to life!”

Sarah stared at him blankly once again, “What?”

Jacob awkwardly laughed before correcting himself, “Bbasically, whatever you want, you get.” (I'm not 100% certain, but I believe there's no need for a capital at the beginning of a quotation in the middle of a sentence. You do this a couple times in the piece, though.)

Sarah paused, puckered her lip, and asked, “I want a chocolate shake.”

Jacob immediately ran off into the back. He came back with the most fantastic looking chocolate shake. After Sarah took a taste, she held her cheeks. It tasted too good to be real. (I'm calling foreshadowing here.) Feeling adventurous, Sarah bit her lip and ordered, “Strip.”

Without even a pause, Jacob began stripping himself. Sarah’s face burned and covered it as she shouted, “Stop it! I was kidding!” However, she still peeked to see, but Jacob stopped. She sighed disappointingly.

“Take me somewhere,” (Missing comma.) She asked.

He replied, “Wherever you want to go. Where then?”

“The beach.”

Jacob jokingly bowed, “Your imagination is my command.”

She smiled and thought nothing of it. She continued to sip on the shake.

“Go outside,” said Jacob.

Sarah frowned and skeptically looked outside. There were no windows so it wasn’t possible to tell. Jacob was so convincing with that smile that Sarah stood up. She crawled over with the shake still in hand and put her hand on the door knob. It was hot. She threw the door open and saw it. She saw the beach.
The endless sand seemed to be the same color as the whipped cream on her shake. The water was so brilliantly blue that it looked like liquid turquoise

“How?” she asked.

“Like I said, imagination comes to life.”

Sarah ran outside. The sun felt especially amazing after staying in the freezer of that café. The sand tickled in between her toes. The water ebbed and flowed as if luring her to play. She threw her (needs to be placed later in the sentence.) everything off until she stood there in her underwear. She turned back and winked at Jacob.

She teased, “Interested?”

Jacob joked, “Must be your imagination.”

She plopped down on the beach and let the water cascade into her feet. Jacob plunkered down an umbrella and sat next to her.

She asked, “Isn’t it hot in that?”

He smirked, “Would you like me to strip again?”

She smiled. As he sat next to her, she curled up into a ball. She wrapped her arms around her legs and drew a heart into the sand.

“You know, this is where my parents use to take me every summer vacation.” (This can be part of the previous paragraph because no one is speaking in it, especially so because she is the subject.)

Jacob was staring at the ocean. She faced the sand again and continued drawing a heart with three stick figures. She erased one of them.

Sarah continued, “We were going to the beach before-“

Her voice cracked, “You know, this is where my parents met for the first time.” (There's really no reason to have this separate from the previous paragraph either, or the one before that because she is still speaking and one-three sentence paragraphs are usually not typical unless someone else needs to speak.)

Finally Jacob responded, “Where are they now?”

Sarah shook her head and started tearing up. She whimpered, “I messed up.”

Jacob turned to face her. He redrew the third stick figure in the sand for her. “The best part about parents is that they’ll always try to clean up your messes.”

She gave a half cry and scoff, “I don’t think my dad can clean up this one.”

Reassuringly, he whispered, “Don’t assume he can’t. As long as you have each other, anything is possible.”

Sarah let out a few tears while she painfully joked. “Cheesy.” She rested her head on Jacob’s shoulder. He raised her head and placed a towel on his shoulder. She took a pause before asking, “Jacob. Why does it have to be this hard?”

“If it were easy, the hardest part about life wouldn’t be living.”

Sarah longingly looked up into his eyes.

“You seem to know exactly what to say.” (Can join with above)

Jacob smirked, “I try.”

Sarah sincerely laughed. She looked at him- into his deep hazelnut eyes. “Don’t try too hard,” she replied. She continued to stare at him.

“I can ask for anything right?” (This confused me, I thought it was Jacob speaking because she was speaking in the previous paragraph and you created a new one.)

“Right.”

For the second time in her seventeen years, she selfishly said, “Kiss me.” Jacob held her tightly and kissed her. She melted. He was so reassuring- she felt so safe. She wanted to explore more of his soft lips, she wanted him to explore more of her. She wanted him. Jacob pulled away and looked at her. For that moment she knew Jacob saw into her mind.

“I’m ready.” (I took this sexually, har har)

He asked, “You sure?”

“Can you come with me?”

Jacob couldn’t reply. He looked away.

“I figured,” she resigned. (The past three paragraphs can all be one because she is still speaking. At this point, I feel like I'm scrolling more than reading. Funny how things work out that my paragraphs are too big for what you're used to and your's are too small for what I'm used to.)

There was a loud electronic beep emanating everywhere.

“Hardest part about life is living right?” (Because of the constant new paragraphs, I can't tell if this is Jacob making sure she learned his lesson or if she's checking with him that she got it right. I sympathize that's it's difficult to keep saying "he said, she said.")

“Right.”

Sarah painfully smiled again. “Jacob. Thank you.”

He whispered “I hope I never see you again.”

Sarah shouted, “I hope so too,” over an increasingly louder beeping.

Sarah opened her eyes.

A paramedic shouted, “She’s awake!”

Sarah looked around. Dad was even more a wreck, but the second he heard those words, his face lit up. He ran over and hugged so tightly, he almost suffocated her. After seeing him, she broke down in tears while he was already sobbing.

“I’m sorry, Dad.” (Always place a comma before a subject in a quotation when the speaker is speaking at it.)

“I’m sorry too, Sarah.”