ok so im going to boot camp for 6 weeks so i wont be able to post storys until after the 8th of augest. so heres my last one for awhile:)

Once, in the far of land known as New Rochielle, of which there was no Old Rochielle, there lived a young woman named Lyda. Lyda was considered to be the fairest girl in the land, even fairer than Ms. Crawford who was held in high regard for the professional excellence of her beauty. This made her mother very, very proud both because she was the prettiest but also because she had a fairly decent head on her shoulders. If she had only been beautiful, her mother would only be half as proud. Lyda, contrary to her delicate beauty, liked to do men's things outdoors. She would spend days at a time going on hunting, fishing and even camping trips, and yet she had the same feminine beauty about her that no one else in the land possessed.

One morning, lyda awoke to the steady light beating of rain on her window. She looked at her clock and saw it was about five o'clock in the morning and thought that this would be the perfect time to go catch some fish for tonight's dinner, because as all fishing enthusiasts know, this was ideal weather for fishing.

So off Lyda went, preparing herself a lunch to eat on the boat, getting her tackle and jackets together, and doing her general mourning things. After Lyda had finished preparing for the day ahead, she headed out towards the lake on foot with her tackle box in one hand and her fishing rod in the other. To the southeast of where Lyda lived there was a small dock on the shore of a very large lake where her boat was stored. It was the perfect distance away so that if you walked there, you would have been exhausted by the time you reached the docks, but this was just a light walk for Lyda. Once there, Lyda sailed her ship off into the calm waters of the lake. Lyda sat and fished and fished and fished until she could not stand the sight of fish anymore. So, at this point Lyda began to reel in her line when she felt a tug. She stopped, waiting to see if she could feel it again. She waited for, oh, all of about two seconds when she felt a tug so powerful that she was dragged into the water with a gigantic splash which could have been seen for miles around.

After this point nobody really knows how it happened, not even Lyda. She just woke in a very cold, wet place that reeked of fish. Lyda began feeling around the walls of the room and found it to be a very large oval with the occasional hard place on the wall which was usually a slimy, wet muck that surrounded her. Thankfully, Lyda always came prepared for the worst situations and found a box of waterproof matches in her pocket. Once lit, Lyda did not know what exactly she was looking at. After awhile it hit her, she was inside the biggest fish she had ever seen. Then, after the oohs and ahhs of what she saw, the thought of her survival kicked in and Lyda began to make a fire from a variety of sticks and logs she found in the stomach, she could have even sworn she had seen a whole tree while looking around in the dark. After her fire was started, she began to think of a plan to escape. She tough and she though and she thought but there was absolutely no way out. So, there she waited and waited and waited, living off of fish that it had swallowed and continually adding freshly swallowed wood to her tiny fire. Poor Lyda remained in the belly of that beast for a very, very long time.

Then one mourning Lyda awoke to sunshine, the light was blinding her eyes so fiercely that she nearly went blind but she wasn't complaining. Lyda crawled out of the fish to find it washed up, dead, on the beach. And to find herself not what she was when she entered that awful sea creature. She was paler, thinner, so weak she could barely stand and to not be as fair as she once was.

Once out of the fish, Lyda began her walk home; she remembered her walk to the lake so vividly. She remembered the smell of rain in the air, the sound of water drops hitting the leaves of the maple trees. But, the one thing she remembered best was her home; her sweet, sweet home. Lyda was greeted by the same sign outside the driveway they had had the day she left and the same ugly green door they had always had. She knocked on that door to find her mother. She was older and worry worn and did not seem to recognize Lyda. After proving it was really, really her. A frown the likes of which no one had ever seen grew upon the face of Lyda's mother. "How dare you come back here you silly, silly girl. You are useless to me now. You can barely stand up on your own for gods sakes!" And as Lyda's mother said that she slammed and locked the door nearly hitting Lyda's pale, skinny face.

Lyda did not cry. She did not weep or become engulfed in rage, she didn't even sigh. What Lyda did instead was even stranger than what had happened to her. Lyda turned around and walked back to the beach and found the exact same fish she had escaped from only a few hours ago. She crawled into its slimy figure and made herself comfortable. Once she was as comfortable as one can get in a fish, she closed her eyes and went to sleep, never to wake up again.

hope you liked it:)