Character design of "Marjorie Thatch", an original character in my short story "The Annex"
Early Concept Sketches
The Annex: a Short Story
I want to briefly preface this short story here before you read it.
So, I wrote this short story three years ago as a project for a creative writing class I was taking at the time. I think I have really grown as a writer since that time and with hindsight, I’ve realized there are a bunch of things I could have handled better (especially in terms of some of the more dramatic moments). However, I do feel that it still holds up— and I’m pretty proud of the personal milestone of writing a cohesive 8000-word short story.
To sort of set the genre for you: it is intended to be a fun, fast-paced action adventure— in which the characters are able to do things that are probably unrealistic but, not so far that it’s completely unbelievable (think along the lines of Tintin or Nancy Drew). Mainly it was fun to write (and hopefully to read!). The idea that inspired the story was that it was about these sort-of Bonnie and Clyde characters. However, instead of being two criminal lovers, it would be a brother/sister sibling duo that wasn’t quite criminal but also wasn’t exactly under the law either.
I’ve included only the opening part of the story, but you can read the rest if you want to here:
“The Annex”
by Natalie Burns
When the telephone rang at 2am, I knew it would be him.
D-d-dring! D-d-dring!
I hadn’t been able to sleep, but I still lay unmoving for a moment, listening to the shrill ringing and thinking how nice it would be to just stay where I was.
D-d-dring! D-d-dring!
I rolled out of bed and pulled on my jeans as I stumbled down the hall and the spiral stairs, now moving hastily towards what was bound to be trouble. My nightgown caught in the wrought ironwork banister on the way.
D-d-dring!
I hastily yanked the gown from the rail, tearing the edge.
D-d-dring!
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” The phone fumbled about in my groggy hands. “Hello?” I croaked.
“Orie? It’s me, Ed. Listen, it’s urgent.”
I sighed. “It always is.”
He paused. “Now that’s hardly fair, what about Detroit?”
“That was 8 years ago, Eddy.” I cleared my throat.
“Ah, still sore, are we? Well— you know why I called.”
“I do?”
“Don’t play games with me, Marjorie Thatch.”
“Me? Play games with you? I’m sorry, aren’t you the one calling me at 2am? It’s scandalous! I’m sure Ms. Billings and her associates will be in tizzies about it for weeks. You know she has the ears of a fox.”
I heard the sound of a car-horn on his end. “Ah, dear Ms. Billings. She is in good health I presume?”
“Nothing could keep her from her quilting bees, church dinners, and social engagements.”
Ed chuckled for a moment but easily saw through my attempt to avoid his intention. “I’d forgotten how good you are at distracting me. I did tell you it was urgent, didn’t I?” It wasn’t a question.
“I told you I was done. I’m not getting involved anymore.”
“I promise this is the last time- I- I’ve got to get off the phone. Listen, you should have received a letter from me with the return address you should send it to; make sure you mail it before 5pm tomorrow.”
His letter had arrived that very day in the post and was sitting on the desk. I glanced at it, noting the address. “Eddy-“
“Just mail it,” he commanded.
“Wait, which one?”
“The Annex.”
“The Annex? But why? You said it’d never come to that!”
“I know what I said. Things have gone… south. I— just a second—” I heard an engine roar and the sounds of muffled voices.
“I gotta go. Whatever you do, don’t come to try and save me, alright?”
“But, I—”
“Goodbye, Orie.”
“Eddy? Ed!”
The line went dead. My heart sank as I lowered the receiver. I stared blankly into space for a moment then jolted into action.
Of course I have to go try and save him. Is he daft?
Running up the stairs to my room, I threw open the closet door and pulled my dusty suitcase from the high shelf. I began stuffing necessary items into the trunk in a hasty manner. I had nearly finished throwing the entire contents one of my dresser drawers onto the entire bed in search for my soft leather gloves when I heard a gasp behind me and whirled around.
“Oh!”
“Miss Marjorie! What in heavens are you doing up at this unearthly hour?” The elderly housekeeper fidgeted and her eyes darted about nervously.
I sighed and put my hand on my chest. “Ms. Billings, I’m afraid I thought you were someone else.”
“Now you’re talking crazy too. Who else would it be? Are you sure you are quite alright?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” I cleared my throat and straightened.
It won’t do to frighten her.
“I’m sorry to have awakened you; my brother just phoned, there’s a family emergency that I must attend to. I’m leaving right away.”
“In the middle of the night? I always knew Edward wouldn’t turn out! What has happened?”
“He wasn’t very specific. I really am sorry to keep you awake; won’t you go back to bed? No sense in both of us going without sleep. I insist.”
“Humph. Well, I won’t be able to sleep now!”
“I’m afraid I’ll be taking the car, but you should be able to arrange for John Foster to take you to town.”
Ms. Billings raised her eyebrows and tried unsuccessfully to not look pleased with the prospect. “Well, you will give me a call to let me know when you’ve arrived safely, won’t you?”
“Of course. And please do try to get some rest?”
She shook her head. ”No promises from me. Safe travels, Miss Marjorie.”
“Yes; good night, Ms. Billings.”
I could hear her muttered objections to my plans as she moved slowly away down the hall.
I continued my frantic packing until I was quite sure that Ms. Billings was downstairs, then I threw open the window and grabbed the lantern. With my nightgown sleeves rolled up to my elbows and the lantern handle swung over my shoulder, I shimmied as quickly and as quietly as I could down the drainpipe. The sounds of chirping crickets and croaking frogs reached my ears as I snuck along the dew-covered grounds. Everything seemed unearthly eerie and frightening against the light of my small, yellow flame and I felt skittish and unsettled.
Finally, I reached my destination; an outer garden shed and unlocked the padlock with a key from the ring on my belt. The door creaked open loudly.
Subtle.
I heard the crack of a twig behind me and froze. Slowly I turned around, terrified at what I might see. Two small eyes, glowing green in the reflection of my light, stared back at me from under the hedge. I jumped when they suddenly bounded away.
Only a rabbit.
Shaken, I hurried inside. I closed the door behind me and rolled up the rug to reveal a hidden trap door. A chill ran down my spine. I glanced around, wondering why I still felt so uneasy, before pulling open the door to a ladder descending into darkness.
Relax.
I grabbed the lantern and began to lower myself into the black. My bare feet touched the cold dirt floor and I shivered. Five long shelves stretched from one end of the room to the other. On the shelves were lines of boxes that were filled with paper folders and random gadgets. A dripping sound echoed softly and the room smelled of old wood and dirt. I took a step forward and then reeled back when my face stuck in a cobweb. Wiping it out of the way, I began to dig through the first box.
I had continued my methodic search for nearly an hour before finding it. The small, metal chest with two turn-dial padlocks was at the back of the room in a torn cardboard box, under a monkey wrench and an old taser. I pulled it out and brushed off the thick layer of dust collected on the lid.
THE A FILES: was written in bold print on a tag attached to the handle. I studied it for a moment, wondering if I was making the right choice if I wasn’t rushing into something. Then the lantern flickered and I was reminded of the oil running low. After hurriedly cleaning up my mess and locking the shed, I made for the house. I left the box in the trunk of the car, then quietly snuck past Ms. Billing’s bedroom window and climbed back up the drainpipe to my bedroom window. I glanced at my muddied feet and jeans and torn nightgown and thought of how Ms.Billings would disapprove.
A lady running about barefoot and tearing her skirt, and in her nightclothes, no less! What would your dear mother have said?
To clear my conscience I washed my feet in the bathtub and stowed my muddied clothes in my trunk so as to clean them myself later. Then, after packing the rest of my clothes, I wrote a note of instructions to Ms. Billings and grabbed a basket of food and the letter with Edward’s address. The Ford’s engine rumbled loudly as I started it, and as I pulled out of the long drive I saw the curtain to Ms. Billings window swing shut and her light flicker off.
What sort of mess am I getting myself into?
***
You can read the rest on my writing blog (https://bunkbednoctuary.wordpress.com/portfolio/the-annex/)