The Fantastical Adventures of Jimwig

A short story of an odd boy who comes across a valuable treasure, changing his life forever; please let me know if it is worth finishing or not!

There once was a woman who had fourteen children. She wasn't the woman who lived in a shoe, mind you, but the Sheffield family did reside in an old, crooked house that had many rooms and secret spaces. Though the house sat on the murky banks of the riverside, it wasn't completely unattractive; they had a lovely little vegetable garden growing in the front yard, and a newly-painted bright yellow door seemed to make the house chuckle at their sad attempt of restoring the old place. Still, the Sheffield's called it home, and viewed the chipped paint, slumping porch, and missing shingles as charming additions to their peculiar house.

Mother Sheffield was a widow; her husband had died in the war a few years back, and she was left to manage her very chaotic houshold by herself. However, her children were not compeletly helpless; the older children, who were now on the brink of becoming young adults, worked in the village to help with finances, while the little ones stayed at home and did daily chores. Though this family system seemed to function rather well, that was perhaps the only aspect of their household that wasn't problematic. Whether the absence of their father was to blame, or it was because of the difficult lifestyle they had to endure, the Sheffield sibilings were unusually bitter. Their deafening arguments, terrible fist fights, and wretched behavior was a daily occurance in their household; though it was especially fun for them to fight with each other individually, it was a favorite game of theirs to gang up on one small sibiling in particular.

 

Poor Jimwig; even the twins, the only sibilings younger than him, teased him mercilessly. Unfortunetly, it wasn't difficult to figure out why he was the butt of every joke; Jimwig was simply odd. Being one of the younger siblings, all of his clothing was inherited pass-me-downs, which he chose to wear as mismatched and possible. His shoes were two sizes too big, and his favorite coat very worn; his ensemble was never complete without a boulder hat he had been wearing since he was three. (Though his real name is "Jim," his family dubbed him "Jimwig," teasing him that the reason for his hat was to keep his wig in place) Though he was turning twelve soon, he had changed very little over the course of his childhood; he continued to live in his own world, nearly oblivious of everyone around him.

 

Though Jimwig was an odd boy, he had unusual talents that made him all the more peculiar. Since he often played by himself, he could be found wandering among the wild brushes and many trees surrounding the property, searching for the perfect size rocks and sticks for him to sculpt into whatever he could imagine. Jimwig had an impressive collection of hand-crafted wooden soldiers, rocks he had chizzeled down to intresting trinkets, and various odd treasures he renewed and proudly displayed on his small shelf. Though his finding consisted mostly of old bottle-caps, bent nails, and empty turtle shells, these things pleased him and made him feel as if he owned the most valuable possessions in the world.

 

One morning after Jimwig had finished his chores, he headed up stream and searched the muddy banks of the river for more precious findings. Though he was covered head-to-toe in mud, he was satisfied with the amount of treasures he had found that morning and decided to began his journey home. As he was making his way up the banks, he spotted something very peculiar sticking out of the mud on the opposite side of the stream. "I'm already dirty," he thought to himself, "It would do me good to wash off in the stream..and while I'm at it, I can investigate this new discovery." Though he expected it to be another nail, he was terribley excited of the possiblity of a new trinket to add to his special collection. When he finally reached the bank, he reached for what he thought to be another ordinary finding; as he grasped hold of it, he realized that this was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was oblong, and strange in shape, but was difficult to immediatley identify what it was becuase of the mud and grass covering it. He dipped the object in the stream to clean it off, when he realized what it was.."It's..a key!" It was a stone key, obviously very old and beatifully ordained with curious carvings marked throughout. This was clearly the most valuable treasure Jimwig had ever discovered, but little did he realize what strange and terrible things it could unlock.

Author's Note

Please ignore the grammar problems; this is a rough draft of a short story I'm writing..It isn't finished. My question is: is it worth finishing, or is it terribly boring/stupid? Any constructive criticisim would be great!