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Writer's pictureNavya Prabhakara

Writing Stories That Come To Life: Finding A Flicker Of Hope In The Worst Of Darkness

There are so many things in life that bring you joy. Hobbies, passions, pursuits. For me, a huge one is writing. I love being able to create different characters, with different backgrounds, perspectives, thoughts and actions. It makes me so happy to see the variety of characters and how they thrive and adapt in different settings. Recently, we finished up a unit in ELA (English Language Arts) which is just reading, writing and speaking about vignette. I’m going to show you my favourite one out of all the ones that I wrote: 


The stone against my back felt like ice, pressing through my thin shirt and sending chills deep into my bones. I buried my face, wrapping my arms around my knees, letting my tears fall. The cave was empty, the silence pouring out everywhere, broken only by the soft drip of water echoing in the dark. 


They’d left me.


I tried to hold onto their faces—my mother’s warm eyes, my father’s laugh, my brother’s teasing smile. The soft whispers of “Goodnight, Eve” and my voice whispering back “Goodnight Mom” before the soft covers enveloped me as I fell asleep. But they slipped away, blurry fog in the morning sun. I’d go running through the place, thinking maybe this was a joke, and they’d jump out and laugh, yelling that it was a joke. But they didn’t come back. 


“Why? Why was I never good enough?”


At first, I’d screamed, my voice bouncing off the walls, sharp and hollow. I clawed at the ground, wanting to break something, to feel anything that could distract me from the raw, aching emptiness in my chest. But I was left with nothing except the quiet and the cold, the anger fading.  “Why does it hurt so much? I thought I was strong enough to handle this. Was I wrong about myself?” My voice cracked on the last sentence. 


A soft light slipped in from the cave’s mouth, casting pale shapes on the walls. I could see the faint smudges in the dirt where my fingers had traced lines, desperate to hold onto something real in my life. Outside, the world continued without me, as if I had never existed. “Mom, do you remember when you used to tell me that even the darkest of nights would end? Is this one of those nights?”


Then, slowly, I felt something shift within me. A quiet thought or a gentle nudge: You’re still here. As simple as it was, it felt like a spark—a small, warm flicker I hadn’t known I needed. It danced across my heart, flames spreading from a fire, sending bursts of warmth and love throughout my body. I closed my eyes and let it settle in my chest, filling the empty space.


They might not return, but that didn’t mean I was lost. Not forever. Somewhere, outside this cave, life was waiting, and so was my strength to face it. I didn’t know what tomorrow would look like or how I’d get through it. I didn’t know if I would die tomorrow, withering away like a flower losing its petals, each one dropping every day I was stuck in this cave. But I did know that the darkness would not capture me forever. I would be a lion, someday escaping the pain and grief that swallowed me whole.


Someday, I’d get up. Someday, I’d step out of this cave, and the light would feel warm against my skin. And maybe then, I’d find my way back to myself. To become the person who was now in the past. 


But tonight, I let myself rest, knowing that hope, even a small one, was enough to hold onto.


The meaning behind the story and the message I wanted to give was hope. Although it is slightly cliched, I wanted to go for the idea that even in the worst darkness, there is always a flicker of light. A flicker of hope in the darkest of times. Although it may seem impossible, there is always a little bit of light. If you choose to, you can cling to that hope. 


I found a beautiful quote that says "In the shadowed depths where despair whispers loudest, a flicker of light trembles, waiting. You can choose to cradle it like a fragile ember, feeding it with breath and belief, until it blazes into a beacon. Even in the darkest night, hope is the seed that dares to dream of dawn." I absolutely love it, because it expresses the entire message in perhaps a more poetic, or symbolic way. 


This vignette made me really think as I was writing it, how I wanted to show and unveil the meaning of hope throughout the piece, utilising symbolism. Looking and reading this now, I found myself really believing in it, the importance of hope, of light. I think this vignette is a great example of the beauty of hope in life, and I hope all of you find your own hope to cling to no matter what.

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