Short Story – Crown the Wild Child


Short Story – Crown the Wild Child


This is a short story I wrote way back in 1985. It was for an assignment in a writing course I was taking. I’d send in the ‘homework’ and it would be edited with helpful tips by the teacher. I went through the whole course, and got my diploma.

This story she wrote in red ink that it was excellent. There were a few corrections, which I fixed. I don’t know how excellent the story is, but it was fun to write.


Crown the Wild Child

If you look up the name Stephanie in a what to name the baby book, you’ll find it means “crowned”, as in wearing a crown, ruler over all. This is one Stephanie who thinks it’s true.

With her thick, shoulder-length blonde hair bouncing, she enters the room and immediately everyone in the house knows she’s there. Her favorite greeting, “Hi, Mommy, hi Daddy!” is yelled to whoever may be there, be it man, woman, or child. If you’re not quick in covering your ears, they will be tortured as a high, piercing whinny comes out the child’s mouth. this is her normal and frequently used laugh.

Skipping across the dining room she doesn’t notice a glass of cherry red Kool-aid that falls and shatters on the floor in her wake. She looks out of her mischievous brown eyes and asks her friend if she’s seen the gorgeous new hunk of a boy that just moved in down the street. “He’s so sexy,” she gushes and swoons as if in love.

At age eight, the same age as Stephanie, her friend thinks boys are yucky, and secretly wonders if Stephanie is really a sixteen year old midget. Boys are Stephanie’s main topic of conversation .

School is Stephanie’s downfall. A necessary evil that must be endured for the required seven hours. Acting in her usual wild manner, she has her name put on the blackboard several times a week, with check marks sprouting after it like weeds after a rain.

After Stephanie stays after school for fifteen minutes’ detention, her ride home is harrowing. As she leans out the car window, her arms waving wildly, everyone in a two block area can her her screaming like a banshee to schoolmates the embarrassing refrain of “Hi, Mommy, hi Daddy. Call me at home, and I love you” to all the boys.

After getting home, Stephanie makes a quick pit stop by her personal file – the garbage can where with a blizzard of papers flying, she rids her notebook and book bag of all the evidence of notes sent home for disruptive behavior, and schoolwork with bad grades. At all cost her mother must never see these papers.

On Friday nights Stephanie is ready to stay overnight with her best friend. Already at her friend’s house, she calls her mother on the phone to beg permission. Standing with the phone propped up to her ear with her shoulder, she fiddles with a myriad of objects on the desk. Stuttering and pausing, she tries hard to get the words right in order for her mother to understand her.

Her facial expressions tell the story. As her barely visible brows frown then arch, and her closely set brown eyes sparkle, her thin chiseled nose sniffs and her mouth purses. She looks like a mouse trying to get through a maze. First standing on one foot then the other, she fidgets around, then with her back against the wall she slowly slides to the floor. Finally, with a shriek and a leap, she drops the phone and whinnies her good news.

On her face is the look of a triumphant winner. Head held high, eyes shining, she is smiling as if her ‘crown’ were really up there.


Thanks for visiting! Peace☮️

© 2020 BS



9 responses »

    • Thanks so much, Dora! This girl is a live wire, for sure. Glad you liked the story. I have another one I’ll post, called “Stephanie’s Diary”. I sure appreciate your comment! 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s