Behold, my very first writing shared to Scratch in a project. I admit that I actually quite like this short story. That doesn’t usually happen with a lot of the stuff I write, so maybe that’s a sign that this is actually kind of good? I don’t know, you read it and tell me what you think. ———— The cartographer’s apprentice leaned back, squinting at the parchment before her. Rough lines and curves squiggled across its surface, forming the shapes of wide continents and small islands. Or at least, that’s what they were supposed to do. The apprentice’s drawings looked less like landmasses and more like pools of runny egg yolk. She let out a frustrated sigh. This was an important assignment. The Senior Cartographers trusted that she knew about cartography to make a finally make a map. A complete map. A real map. Her work had to be impressive. She ground her pencil into the parchment, as if darker lines would somehow make the sketch look better. The graphite tip snapped and flew across the room. She bit back a scream and reached for her sharpener. Why did mapmaking have to be so hard? ———— “Breaking news!” The newscaster’s voice cuts through my concentration. I glance up, pencil hovering above my paper. On the television screen, a young woman stares solemnly into the camera, hands folded on the table before her. “Breaking news,” she repeats, “the world appears to be… folding in on itself.” “Uh, what did she say?” I ask, certain I misheard. “I repeat, the world is folding in on itself.” The calmness of her face and voice don’t match the words coming out of her mouth. She could be talking about the weather, for how unruffled she appears. I leap to my feet, my pencil drawing all but forgotten. “‘The world is folding in on itself?’ What does that even mean?!” My family doesn’t respond. Their eyes are glued to the TV screen, fixated on the news report. “Satellite images show that our planet is mysteriously turning inwards, potentially harming many lives in the process.” Photographs taken from space appear onscreen, showing that the world is in fact folding up into the shape of a lumpy, irregular globe. It looks like a crumpled wad of paper, actually. Furrows of water and land have been folded inwards and pressed together, reminding me of all the drawings I’ve given up on and thrown away. “Indeed, our flat world seems to be turning into one of the round planets from myth,” the reporter continues, still impossibly calm. “The government has tried to reach out to the countries that appear to be, ah, more affected by this cataclysmic event. As of now there has been no response.” The photographs zoom in to the more severely damaged areas - thankfully, nowhere near where my family lives. “The outlook for our future is not good. Indeed, our own country is one of the only-” Abruptly, the news reporter’s voice is cut off with a fizzle of static. The TV screen shudders, then goes dark. “Um, what happened?” I ask nervously. My palms have begun to sweat, and I wipe them on my jeans. They leave wet creases on the denim, like the surface of our entire planet as I saw it tonight. “I don’t know, Sammy,” my dad replies weakly. “I guess it’s like the news reporter said. The outlook isn’t good.” The honesty in his voice scares me more than anything else I’ve heard tonight. “Daddy?” my little brother murmurs anxiously. “Are we going to be-” With a crunch like paper ripping, the ground tips over sideways. I shriek and grab onto the coffee table, trying to keep my balance. I hear my dad yell something as I slam into the wall, though his voice is barely audible over the sound of my own panicked screams and thundering heart. As the world folds in over my head, I only have time for one last thought: Why is this happening?
———— (cont.) The cartographer’s apprentice dipped her pen into the inkwell. She still wasn’t satisfied with her map. The graphite had smeared, and it was difficult to tell where land ended and muddy grey ocean began. Unfortunately, she didn’t know how to make the sketch look better, and it had to be completed by sunrise tomorrow. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “In every great map lies another world…” As if from a long distance, the motto of Cartographer’s Guild hailed back to her. She had no idea what the old phrase meant, but if ever she needed guiding words of wisdom, it was now. “In every great map lies another world.” the apprentice whispered to herself. “Another world.” She lifted her pen and placed it on the parchment. Another world. Jaw clenched, she began to trace the swoop of a gently curving coastline. Another world… Her arm trembled ever so slightly, and ink spattered across the page. She stared in horror at her ruined map, anger and despair warring within her. Then she picked up the parchment, crumpled it into a ball, and hurled it across the room. If every map did contain another world, the apprentice had just destroyed this one - and she couldn’t care less. All that hard work, and she wouldn’t even have anything to present tomorrow. She stalked out the door, furious. Why had she ever decided to become a mapmaker? ———— Thank you for reading! All writing is by me. Thumbnail image from Google. Font from a font generator I found online.
