This story was written for the Ariasink 5W challenge. In short, a picture is provided, and the challenge is to write a story about it in 500 words or less that will tell the reader the 5W's – who, what, when, where, and why without actually TELLING them. This is my submission. I hope you enjoy it. Please tell me how I did! The answers will be listed after the story.
Here's a link to the picture: http://ariasink. com/myimg.php?100
She hated returning to darkness. Her hands trembled as she carefully fitted the key to the lock and gave it a grating twist. The door opened slowly, an ominous creak issuing forth from the neglected hinges. From the street lamp outside, enough light spilled into the dark room to see the faint outline of a pair of shoes - his shoes - near where the tile met carpet. Her blue eyes drifted slowly up to the still figure seated on the beat up couch, rapidly adjusting to the all-consuming darkness. Her keys fell to the floor with a sharp, metallic clink, as she took a few more hesitant steps down the three stairs, fully into the room.
"You're...here?"
The words left her lips unbidden, and she stepped back a pace as he rose from the sofa to approach her.
"They told me you were dead."
She just couldn't seem to shut up. Part of her thought he was a vision, a ghost...an angel. The other part hoped, prayed that he wasn't another dream, another vivid reminder of what she had lost.
"I'm very much alive." His voice was just as beautiful, just as wonderfully thrilling as the first time she'd heard it. Suddenly, tears filled her eyes.
"Your plane crashed. I thought you were dead. I died that day, as well."
He was still approaching, and she was still retreating.
"I'm back, now. I'm not going anywhere this time." His voice was even, calm, and soothing. She relaxed a fraction. Her thoughts spun crazily. He was here, he was back, he was...home. An overjoyed little sound escaped her throat, and his hands slipped around her to hold her close.
"What about America? What about Harvard?" Two tears escaped her eyes, rushing down her smooth cheeks. He brushed them away. Her back was pressed against the wall, her retreat cut off. She wasn't going to move, anyway.
"Screw America. I can get a perfectly good education here, as well. I won't leave you again." He kissed her cheek, brushing her soft, blonde hair away from her face. Her fingers rose to thread through his hair, tangling in the dark silk of it. It had been too long since she had touched him.
"I died when you left me. I died again when I thought you were dead. I think I'm dying, now, too."
She was certain she wasn't making any sense. His lips were on hers, and she couldn't think.
"Why would you think you're dying now?" His words were muffled against the tender skin of her throat.
"Because this must be heaven."
Her eyes closed, her hands remained fisted in his hair, basking in the wonder of being held in his arms, when she'd thought never to see him again.
The door was still open. Soft lamplight spilled through the doorway to pool at their feet. She would never fear the dark again. The darkness had brought back her reason for living...her love.
Did you get them all? Here are the answers.
Who: Usagi and Mamoru.
What: Mamoru has reunited himself with his girlfriend, after supposedly leaving for America. His plane crashed ( as you know, I'm sure), and he was supposed to have died.
When: After the whole Mamoru-goes-to-America-and-is-killed-in-a-plane-crash thing.
Where: Usagi's home in Japan.
Why: Usagi thought Mamoru was dead, and Mamoru was eager to see his girlfriend again.