Style: Short story
Statement: Occasionally, I get spurts of random and unusual ideas in my head. This time, I decided to write my thought and make it into a short story. It's weird and wacky, but that's what I enjoy about this piece; I hope you like it.
Two days ago, I never imagined I would find myself here, holding up the Eiffel Tower with my bare hands, my feet gripping the grass as a grotesque, three-hearted beast coils its tentacles around the summit. My arms are numb as the octopus descends the tower, its massive body eclipsing the sun. I stand frozen, my deepest fear, literally, looming over me. Octo isn’t just any creature—it’s a monstrous giant, the size of two elephants, with a vile, wretched appearance. Helplessly, I feel a tentacle tighten its grip around me. I bite into the slimy limb, numbing it and making that segment of its body go limp. As I continue to hold up the Tower, I know I need a plan to save the lives of the people.
I’m Ned, an accountant and a US foreign exchange student. I’m painfully shy and socially awkward, the kind of nerd who hides behind oversized yellow glasses that only accentuate my already slim face. My colleagues and even friends mock my high-index lenses for making my eyes look like enormous fish bowls. They also tease me about my height, claiming no door is tall enough for my 200-centimeter frame. This has made socializing challenging, so I spend most of my free time alone. One of my greatest escapes is reading superhero comics. The courage, resilience, and passion of heroes are qualities I’ve always dreamed of possessing. My chances seemed slim—until two days ago.
Sunday evening, I was trudging home from work, navigating through a bustling street teeming with tourists and pigeons. Overwhelmed by the crowd, I ducked into a small, brightly lit alleyway. “Free croissants, free croissants!” called out a kindly old lady perched on a crate, offering a single croissant on her table. Intrigued, I eagerly grabbed the pastry.
“Merci!” I said, hurrying down the alley to a quieter road. I wondered why she was giving away croissants in such a deserted spot and why she had only one. I didn’t dwell on it and bit into the golden-brown pastry. Croissants have always fascinated me: they look like intimidating hunks of bread, but inside they’re hollow and filled with decadent chocolate. This makes them surprisingly easy to devour in one bite.
The next morning, I woke up feeling sore and decided to take a walk to ease my aching legs. As I opened the door, I was shocked to discover I had developed super strength—I accidentally knocked the door down! The only thing that had changed in my routine was the croissant after work, so I couldn’t help but wonder if it was the cause.
Now, facing a monster and wielding my newfound power, I am paralyzed with fear, waiting for the beast to vanish—an unlikely scenario. People gather around, capturing every moment on their phones. My anxiety spikes, but so does an unfamiliar sensation: bravery. I set the Tower down and begin to climb it. Although I’ve always been terrified of heights—even the shortest ladder sends shivers down my spine—this fear feels like a distant memory in the trenches of my mind as I ascend the towering structure.
I grip the writhing tentacle of the beast and pull it down with all my might. Octo crashes into the Champ de Mars and begins to shrink. One by one, its tentacles vanish until only two remain. The creature morphs into human form until a familiar face is all that’s left. The crowd erupts in cheers, their support boosting my confidence. Yet, a wave of guilt washes over me as I realize I’ve defeated someone who showed me kindness. What seemed monstrous and intimidating on the outside turned out to be someone far more delicate and sweet within.
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