Short Story 1: Meeting a friend for the first time

Written by Nicole

Hi, I'm Nicole! Here at Nikkaflora, we help people create their dream story and their dream life through the power of storytelling, creativity, and personal growth. In my free time, I enjoy watching Dragon Ball and drinking boba.


Do you remember what it was like meeting an amazing friend for the first time?

I do. I can usually recall when I began talking to my friends, and those are always lovely memories to think about. Because of this question, I decided to write a short story based on this concept.

In fact, I decided to share stories I’ve written in general. I just know it’s going to be a fun chapter in this beautiful creative journey. Hope you like my writing puns lol.

Let’s move on to my first short story prompt as shown below.

Click on the image above to watch the video or scroll below to read my blog post.

Short Story 1: Meeting a friend for the first time

I was lost. But not literally. 

I know my way around this damn neighborhood like the back of my hand. 

What I didn’t know is where I should go now after losing my best friend.

He and I were inseparable. We did everything together. We played games, rode bikes, teased others, and had fun together. It was a dream I hoped would never end.

As we grew up, we also grew apart. We began to clash and fight constantly. He was the raging fire trying to melt down the walls of my icy castle. I wanted one thing while he wanted another. Slowly and surely, I felt his hand slip away from mine. His footsteps became quieter as he walked further into a place I couldn’t go to.

I didn’t understand what came between us. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was free will. Or maybe I wasn’t enough for him. I was angry at him. I hated his choices. And I was more angry at myself. For letting him go.

I wished things went back to how they were. Before everything fell apart.

I was lonely. I didn’t have anyone else after losing him.

I used to have other friends, but I didn’t look at them the same way I looked at him.

Looking at the streets where he and I walked together, I pull the other strap of my backpack over my shoulder. 

I sigh as I trudged down the same path I always took when going home. I glance around, only to see my other classmates talking happily together. Some of the students stare at me with pity written on their faces. I don’t really talk to them, but even they could see what a mess I am. A pang of envy punctures my heart as my head droops.

I keep walking until I notice the intersection. Like a good girl, I look both ways to check for cars before crossing. There usually aren’t any cars during this time but better to be safe than sorry.

Apparently I’m not that diligent because my right foot suddenly slips under the gravel. My blood freezes when I realize that I’m plummeting headfirst toward a deep canal. Closing my eyes, I cross my arms over my head as a last second defense.

Suddenly I don’t feel anything. I mean, I’m expecting to feel excruciating pain. Or at least some bruises and scars.

I open my eyes. I see that my feet are perched on the edge of the canal. This happens for a few seconds until my body is suddenly jerked back, and strong hands grip my shoulders.

“That was close,” a male voice says. “Are you alright?”

I’m speechless. My mind reels from nearly getting into a nasty accident. But my heart starts to slow down when I feel his warm breath brushing against the back of my neck.

“Hey,” he says louder now. “Can you hear me? Ugh, no way! Did you twist your foot or something?”

I hear him mutter some curse words as he holds my hand, pulling me away from the canal. We reach the other side of the street. Then he leads me to a small tree that fell down weeks ago.

“Sit down,” he orders. “I need to check your feet.”

I don’t know why, but I listened to him right away. I watch nervously as he peels off my shoes and socks, kneeling down on one knee. He gently rubs my feet, inspecting for any injuries.

I didn’t even see his face, but his voice sounds very familiar. I notice he has short dark hair which hangs over his eyes. He has a gray backpack which looks more expensive than mine. I feel my face getting hot when I see some muscles bulging out slightly from his black shirt.

The boy finally meets my eyes, greeting me with a soft smile. “Do your feet hurt? I can carry you home if you’d like.”

It suddenly hits me. I’ve seen him before.

This boy moved into town recently. He’s the one who comes out at night like I do just to stare longingly at the stars.

I remember looking at him sometimes. Wondering what’s on his mind as he stargazes.

“You . . ,” I start saying. “Don’t you live close to me?”

His smile grows larger. “I do. I’ve seen you before, especially when you go outside to watch the night sky. I wanted to talk to you for a while now, but you were always busy with your friend.”

My heart sinks as I frown deeply. I know exactly who he’s talking about.   

He notices my change in mood and only continues to hold his gaze. Wordlessly, he rolls the socks over my feet and slips my shoes back on.

The boy takes a deep breath before kindly holding my face between his warm palms. At this point, I’m now forced to meet his captivating caramel eyes once more.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. In all honesty, I noticed something happened a while ago.”

“What do you mean?” I nearly whisper.

“I saw that your friend hasn’t been with you for quite some time now. I don’t know why, but I’m guessing something bad happened,” he explains.

I sigh as I place my hands over his. “Yeah actually. Me and him just don’t get along right now. And I won’t be seeing him for a long, long time.”

I don’t know why the heck I’m telling him this. I don’t even know this guy. I even refused to talk about it to my classmates, my teachers, and even my parents about what happened.

“I see,” he says.

The boy slowly stands up, finally removing his hands from my face. I assume he is going to leave and head to his house; however, he extends an open palm toward me.

“Let’s go,” he commands.

“What!? Where?” I ask, making a face.

He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head.

“We’re going home. I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten my second lunch yet.”

The boy wiggles his hand, looking at me expectantly.

I glance at it before settling on his face. I can tell he’s impatient and wants to eat already, but the sparkle in his eyes shows me that today is finally a new day. I have an opportunity to start over right in front of me.

All I need to do is take his hand and embrace it.

Thank you for reading my short story! 💜

Oh goodness, I almost cried when I was writing this. I don’t normally get emotional over my stories, but this one really touched my heart.

Comment down below if you remember what it was like meeting your friend for the first time. Or if you have any interesting stories about meeting someone who’s unforgettable.

If you are interested in joining the Nikkaflora fam for this journey, scroll down this page, sign up for my weekly newsletter, and follow me on my social media. 

You’ll stay updated on what’s new, receive more personal growth and creativity content, and we’ll have even more fun. See you there!

Until then, let’s create, appreciate, and f*** that hate!

Follow @nikkaflora

Check out these posts!


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Pin It on Pinterest