Thank you very much for stopping by to check out my blog story! I want to start off by saying, I began this challenge as a way to ease my boredom I had for the game. A good friend suggested I try playing a challenge and through some research I found this one. It sounded interesting and different from the other challenges I had seen, and so I thought to give it a try. To keep a record of how each game play went, and to prove I was following the rules, I wrote a short blurb in the blog section on The Sims 3 social site. Each section was very limited in space, so I wrote to fit the space and was not able to include many pics. I also posted custom memories on The Sims 3 site, where friends caught on to the story and began asking for more. It was then I decided to be brave and moved the story to Blogspot. This year, with the help of my good friend RosemaryMarie, I moved the story again in April, to this site where I can include everything I have always wanted to show everyone.
So here I am almost two years later and I have gone back several times to re write those first five or six chapters from the small blog space on The Sims 3 site. However, they are lacking in pictures and that is something not easily fixed. If you stick with the story, once you get past those chapters the story really blossoms!
Thank you so very much for taking time out of your busy day to stop by and read the story. We start with Ian Bell, who purchases the island and moves there to start a new life. The challenge rules, found at the bottom of this chapter, say your sim is on a boat that sinks, but I didn’t like that beginning myself. This is the Midnight Sun Challenge story with a twist. I hope you enjoy!
Standing on the land of his new home, Ian looked out at the vast expanse of water and took his first cleansing breath in what seemed a number of years. As far as his eyes could see in any direction, he saw no other land, no structures, no other sims. The silence calmed his wounded spirit and began to wash the stress from his body. In that moment, he let go all of the heavy weight he had been carrying with him and allowed himself to fully feel relieved from all the sadness. Ian was finally home at last and here he would begin to completely heal from all he had been through in the past year.
Ian had grown up on the farm, the largest in their area, growing fruit and veggies that provided for the restaurants, food markets and residents of the town. He was the only child to happily married, loving parents and had grown up having just enough, and needing nothing, nor asking for anything else. Ian realized now that he had been existing in a small protected bubble of happiness, where life always seemed to carry on in a positive manner and death was a foreign concept. That is, until that terrible day tragedy struck.
Ian’s parents were about to celebrate their twenty fifth wedding anniversary and he wanted to help them do so by striking off one of their bucket list wishes. He treated them to a romantic hot air balloon ride over the town, sending them with a basket filled with food, chocolate and a bottle of juice. They set out, with the balloon attendant just after two in the afternoon and he couldn’t wait to hear how it had gone when they returned. They had promised to take many photos, not only of the town from above, but of each other as well. He remembered now having to give them a lesson on selfies which had provided an afternoon of blurry pics, and plenty of laughs before they finally understood how to hold the camera just right and click the button.
Ian spent the afternoon they went up, picking apples and weeding his mother’s garden for her. He didn’t want either of his parents to have any work to do for the rest of the weekend. Shortly before four, storm clouds began rolling in, darker than he had ever seen before and he began to worry. When the lightning began to strike, his worry turned to panic and he jumped into the farm truck, racing through the downtown area towards to beach where the balloon was scheduled to drop. He tried to search the sky as he drove, becoming more and more panicked as the lightning continued to light up the sky. No rain had fallen at that point, but you could see it coming off in the distance over the water.
When he arrived at the beach, he looked at the terrified faces of people pointing towards the water and as he approached them, he could hear women crying out while the men stood there with shocked looks on their faces.
“What happened?” Ian asked the men. “What did you see?”
“It hit the balloon. The lightning hit the balloon and it just, it just plummeted down. Those poor people.”
Ian began to rapidly shake his head. “No,” he said. “No NO NO! Those are my parents! Someone! Please do something!”
Rescuers searched for four days, going further out than they normally would for a rescue mission, and all they found was the remnants of the top of the balloon floating in the water.
“Mr Bell. We’ve had men in the water on boats. We’ve had planes in the sky and we used thermal night imaging through the nights. I’m very sorry sir, I just don’t think there is anything left we can do. ” The man whose name Ian would never remember, laid a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “Please accept all our condolences on your loss.”
Ian never got over the shock of their tragic death, or the fact that he wasn’t able to properly bury his parents. He blamed himself, for if he hadn’t bought the gift for them, they never would have been in the sky or died in such an terrible manner. He spent the days in tears and the nights plagued by horrific dreams of his parents drowning, becoming each one and suffering the same fate. If he wasn’t drowning, he was being electrocuted by the lightning in the sky. Slowly, he drifted into depression, barely eating or sleeping and turning away every hand that offered to help him.
His parents had left everything to him; the farm, the truck and the small amount of savings in the bank, which wasn’t much. He tried to carry on as he had done before working the farm and keeping the house to the same clean state his mother had always done; with his help and his father’s of course. But in the end it was just too much for him to handle.
Sitting at the deck table to eat his supper one evening, a place where they shared their end of day conversations, he realized he just couldn’t live in that big farmhouse all alone. The memories of them ingrained in everything at the farm were like darts to his already aching heart, and the silence was deafening. He decided to sell the farm and try living in the city.
He held down several part time jobs; bagged groceries at the market, stocked shelves at the book store and even did laundry at the spa for a short spell. Nothing felt right and the unhappiness weighed him down like gravity pulling him into despair. He longed for those quiet country nights, listening to the crickets sing and the owls talk to one another from far away.
On the farm his favourite thing to do at the end of each day was to lie on the hay, stare up at the stars and watch the fireflies dance in the air above him. He had to admit, he regretted selling his family home so quickly and wished he had taken more time to make the decision, when the sorrow of losing his parents had not been so great. He missed the country air and the sweet smell of all the farm had to offer.
When he saw the ad in the real estate paper for this island getaway home, he immediately called the agent. He bought the island site unseen and it had taken almost all of his inheritance to do so. The view was perfect in every way. No matter which way he looked he couldn’t see another soul for as far as the eye could see. Which, for most sims would be pretty daunting, but not for Ian. This was going to be the perfect place for him to work on his art and start writing those books. No disruptions, no distractions, just him completely alone and enveloped in his own thoughts.
However, he had been mislead on the size of the island itself. Just two strides in any direction had his feet in water. This was not an island but a “pimple” in the ocean. But he justified this minor mistake, by thinking he wouldn’t have any land to maintain that would distract him from his ambitions. For that he was happy.
It was eight in the morning and he figured he probably had another six hours of good daylight left for the day. He had a long list of things to get done to start making this a home. He jumped right in by building a basement for shelter in the hull of the boat. Ian figured it was best to live below where it would be cooler in the summer, as he didn’t have enough money to build up onto the platform of the boat. Walls and floors would come in time after he had sold his first book.
Ian lugged down his meager furnishings he had brought with him; just a bed, desk with chair and an art easel. He installed a toilet, and one cabinet to hold a kitchen sink. The fridge was quite the job to get downstairs, considering he only had a ladder. He had to build a winch like system so he could lower it slowly through the hole, of which it literally just fit through. It took some fancy wiggling to get it all the way down. Once the electrical was hooked up, everything was good to go. He was pretty worn out by the time he had finished, but thankful for everything his father had taught him about carpentry, plumbing and electrical.
Standing on the deck of his new home, fishing for whatever he could catch, he finally felt like he could breathe for the first time since his parents had died. It would never be the home he grew up in, but it was the best substitute he could ever wish for.
He caught about eight fish and was satisfied with that, even though it meant he wouldn’t be able to afford to eat supper that night. He placed the fish in the shipping box and went downstairs to enjoy his light supper of bread and jam. Which for a frugal person like himself, was a good enough supper for now.
He finished off the light of the day by starting a painting while looking out over the vast expanse of never ending water.
When the sun began to set and the night began to get too cold to stay outside, he looked up into the sky and said good night to his parents. He imagined them standing side by side and smiling down at him. His parents faces were something he never wanted to forget and he started this ritual a few nights after they were gone. He didn’t know if he would ever be loved as much as they loved him. He had hope that someday, when he was ready, he would find a love as great as his parents. When his painting skill had reached a higher level, he wanted to paint a portrait of them, to hang above a fireplace in his brand new home. All he currently had was this rough sketch that his mother had done when he was just a baby. It was old and faded but he cherished it all the same and it helped him to remember his parents and his wonderful childhood. What he wouldn’t give to have them back on earth and in his life.