The Real Imagination – A Short Story

This is the second story I’ve written in the short story style. Constructive criticism appreciated! Also, give me your opinions on this: Should I develop this story into something bigger? Is this Novellette, Novella, or Novel material?

And now I am pleased to present:


The Real Imagination – A Short Story

By: Wysteria Campion


Cassey was an unusual girl. She loved books, drawing, and music. But that wasn’t what was unusual. Her imagination was powerful. So, powerful, it brought the figments of her imagination to life. She found this out one fateful night when she was eight.
Cassey lay in bed, not tired at all. She wished it was late enough to turn on a light and read. But unfortunately, it wasn’t. So, she decided to do what she did every night for the past year. Write a story in her head. She had an entire world in her head. With princes, princesses, dragons, and castles. This night she did little thinking on how to keep her story going. She instead she longed to meet her characters in real life. One, in particular, she so desperately wanted to meet. Her heroine, Veronica Loveworthy, warrior princess of the land of Valtruvion.
Above her, there was a crack in her ceiling. Long ago, Cassy had used it to plan the outline of Valtruvion’s borders in one of her maps. Now she thought of it as a river, that Veronica would journey down to meet her. A special quest just for her. She imagined the swaying of the boat. The breeze coming off the water. The sun shining down on Veronica as her quest’s objective came into sight.
Cassy suddenly felt the same breeze she had been thinking of, coming from the crack in her ceiling. Bright, white light burst through the crack. Water began to drip, drip, drip, from the crack. Then the ceiling gave way entirely in a gush of water. Water flooded her room. Crash! A boat dropped into her room from the crack. It splashed water everywhere, soaking her room more thoroughly. Standing in the boat, was Veronica Loveworthy. She smiled at Cassy and climbed out the side of her boat and waded through the water and sat down on Cassy’s bed. It took Cassy a moment to get over the shock, of Veronica, the same Veronica she had wanted to visit her, actually sitting on her bed.
Veronica moved her hand to cover Cassy’s, as she had been about to pinch herself.
“I am real, fair, Cassy. Do you feel my hand upon yours?” Said Veronica, a warm smile on her lips, and proud fire in her eyes.
“But how? How, did you come here? How do you know me?”
“You imagined it all to be so. You imagined me to go on a quest to find you. You imagined I would come down the river. And here I am at your summons.” Suddenly Cassy thought of her parents.
“Did they hear anything?” She cried.
“I doubt it. From the moment, I began my entry to your room, you began to wish that your parents wouldn’t hear. You began to imagine that they wouldn’t come up here.”
“If I focused my imagination, could I get all of this water, and your boat out of here? And rescue my books from ruin?” Asked Cassy.
“Aye, if you imagine it to be so. I cannot sail into your ceiling again. You will have to figure out a way to imagine me home. But we will cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, just try to take care of the water.” Cassy closed her eyes and imagined her room. Clean and neat, books dry, her bed dry, herself dry. She imagined all of the water floating upwards to the crack, which was now more of a hole, and flow on its course in the river. She imagined the boat floating up and sailing home. She imagined the hole in her ceiling repaired back to being just a crack. She opened her eyes, and to her astonishment, she was as dry as the rest of her room. Not a drop of water or boat timber to be found. But Veronica still sat on her bed, real and smiling. Veronica settled herself so that her back was against the wall. Then at ease, she asked,
“Now, why have you summoned me? But of course, I know. I knew when I took the quest. You wanted to meet me. And so, you have. Though for what purpose I know not. You already everything about me. You made me. You know my favorite color.”
“Violet.”
“My favorite food.”
“Roast boar.”
“My weapon’s name.”
“Desrond.”
“See, you know everything about me. So, what was the purpose? I am grateful that I, got to meet you. But you see, if you don’t return be back to your imagination, I’ll never get back at all. I can be returned only when you send me.” Cassy thought. And spoke,
“I wanted to meet you to know that I haven’t been thinking in vain. I wanted to see you with my own eyes, to touch you, to know you better than any author could understand their character. But I know, you must go.”
“All good things must come to an end. Know I have enjoyed my visit very much. And I hope further success and further meetings between us. I would like to stay later than this short time, but the clock strikes the eleventh hour. And all youths of your age should be abed by that time.” With that, she kissed Cassy on the forehead, and stood in the center of the room. “Goodbye, dear Cassy.”
Cassy closed her eyes and imagined. She imagined she had a balcony, and Veronica walked onto the balcony. She imagined, an Eagle, the size of a horse coming to rest next to Veronica. Veronica climbing onto the eagle’s back. The eagle turning to face the full moon. The eagle lifting off, and as they flew away into the moon, the eagle gave a great cry.
Cassy opened her eyes and ran to her balcony. She could still hear the eagle’s cry echoing in her ears. She watched as the black silhouette of the eagle grew smaller and smaller against the backdrop of the full moon. She walked back into her room and imagined the wall back to the way it was. She walked back to her bed and on the bed, was a purple gem inlaid with silver on a silver chain. She knew it to be Veronica’s token. She placed it in her jewelry box and imagined it would stay in this world forever. Which it did.
And Cassy, slept, happy to know who Veronica Loveworthy really was.
In her dreams, she walked into the kingdom of Vetruvion’s capital. Freadon. Veronica stood by the city gate and welcomed her to a feast the likes of which she could never taste in the real world.
When she woke, she thought it had all been a dream. Veronica’s visit, and the feast. But she knew, that the feast had been real. But in another world. And Veronica’s visit was verified, by the purple gem.
Cassy used her power to speak with Veronica many times. And soon, many people all over the globe wished to do so too. After reading Cassy’s published work, The Imagination that was Real.



Special Thanks to whoever made the writing prompt that inspired this short story!

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-Wysteria

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