Heya! If you're an OG you might have seen my original SWC (and NaNo) blog from November 2020. Well I HAVE REVIVED IT!!! Here you can find SWC related writing, critique and all that jazz

Hi everyone! Here is the weekly

TW FOR THRILLER //// DR*G USE ///// (Thriller in small text just in case)

Dystopian:
He was lying. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest as I gently closed my finger over the trigger. Ready to press. I could end this man's life instantly; if I chose to. He had killed my family, and almost killed me. Now I was going to kill him. 'Don't do this Kalea.' Voices began to ring out in my head. Then went silent, and it was just me and him. Him and me. Nothing. Then a click. And a scream. And a deafening bang. And a dead man lying on the floor. And I was satisfied.

Mystery:
'Reports of a mystery illness have been popping up across the globe. I'm Cheyenna Taylor and this is Channel 5 news-'
Good. My plans had been working nicely. If my studies were correct, in five months a fraction of the world would be infected. And I would be the only one with an antidote. Uncle Jordan's teaching had helped out nicely, and if I hadn't already murdered him perhaps I would've called the man up. Oh well. I would be rich in five months, and money is the only thing that matters. Everything in life has a cost, and our friendship cost Jordan his life.

Poem:
The bitter taste of lying drips,
A secret song of deceit,
Though in a better case,
The words that will save someone's feelings,
And washes away the pain,
But leaves an air of untruth wavering,
That twists and turns through the globe,
Slowly turning everything black,
We are told that lying is bad,
That deceit is bad,
But is it really?
Is lying the thing that will save the world?
No.
But maybe it will?
A lie a day keeps friendships at bay,
You will become lonely and sad,
Is loneliness good?
That is up to the speaker,
But I for one believe no.


Non-fiction:
The term coronavirus refers to a family of viruses that cause a number of diseases, including the common cold. COVID-19 is a newly discovered disease, that is thought to have originated from a bat market in a Chinese city called Wuhan. Scientists began to detect cases of COVID-19 in China, December 2019 (hence the COVID-19). It has now spread to over 114 countries and infected over 114 million people. COVID-19 is transmitted by little droplets of water from coughs or sneezes, which is why it has been strongly advised and enforced by the government to wear a face covering.

Fantasy:
The beautiful aroma of honeysuckle and huckleberry wafted through the air as Mama Jasmine cooked up a cottage delight. Ari fluttered through the air joyously, basking in the warm summer heat. Mama Jasmine chuckled, and sent over a handful of sparkles which made Ari clap her hands in delight. Suddenly, Papa came running from inside the house. ‘FIRE! FIRE! GET OUT!’ He picked up Ari from on top of the hedge where she now sat, and began to pull Mama Jasmine's arm. ‘What’s going on Mark?' Her eyes widened as she peered into the house and saw the growing red flames.
'That.' He was panting now. Ari began to cry and held onto his neck for dear life.

Historical fiction:
The men in the room looked at each other, and burst out laughing. A woman running a hardware shop? Please. This young girl clearly knew nothing about life. Women just weren't capable of the same things that these strong and handsome gentlemen. God made them to sit around the house and look pretty, not actually do things. Their brains would combust if they even looked at an engine. These were the Victorian times for God's sakes! The most forward-thinking innovative times. They would know if they needed an air-head working for them. She wasn't even that good-looking! Silly little Sally-Lou.

Mythology:
I had been training for these games my entire life, and I was prepared for this day. I drained my bottle of water in a second, and nervously smiled at Poseidon. What if he thought I was wasting it? My hands were clammy with sweat and I felt nauseous. This was in no way what I had expected it to be. The Gods all sat on golden thrones, obviously judging us already. Young men and women were training left and right, right and left. I just stood and prayed (to the Gods) that I wouldn't collapse. Zeus looked at the other Gods before announcing, ‘LET THE WRITING GAMES BEGIN!’

Contemporary:
Sarah traced her finger along the dusty bannister, then lifted it up to her face and peered at the grey dust on it. She had a lot to think about. Mother had made it clear that she was to go to Mrs Hammersmith-Farrely's Finishing School, but she didn't want to. Sarah wanted to go to university and get an education, not learn how to sew a blouse and be a good wife. She sighed, but if she didn't her parents would cut off her allowance. Then she wouldn't be able to continue her secret ss
schooling. Why did women have to be treated like such imbeciles? She wished she could be like a man.

Horror:
A scream.
The hand grabs her throat and Mia cries out in pain and horror. This strange creature is trying to kill her and Mia doesn't know why. She is gagged and tossed into the back of a truck. Why can't anybody hear her? Mia tries to shout through the duck tape and the creature slaps her. Her face is now stinging and she can't breathe properly. Slowly, she counts back from ten in her head, and then starts. The creature is in there. The creature is talking to her.
Hello Mia…
I have been waiting for this day for a long time…

Adventure:
(From a short story. Things written today in italics)
“How much longer?” Alice sighed and collapsed into a bed of banana leaves. Jem and Harley shared a look of exasperation and then sat next to her. The air was perspiring, and these intrepid explorers were lacking energy and drive. “Just a bit.” Jem reassured, but his voice was uneasy. “Yeah.” Harley confirmed, though doing so in a manor that quite confirmed there was at least another mile or so to go. Alice’s head was pounding as the Amazonian sun glared down at them. She shifted around in her makeshift seat and then jumped back up. “We might as well go now. No point in waiting around for centuries!” Again, Harley and Jem share a look - though this time of confusion. Was the heat getting to her? They had been at this trek for over a month now, camping out in the depths of the jungle. The wind was often thick and humid, and it pushed the explorers to their fullest. No amount of training could account for the hardships that their bodies had been through; physically and mentally. Alice couldn’t remember the last time she had seen rain, or a clouded sky. She began to walk, a heavy backpack wreaking havoc on her back. Jem and Harley followed wearily, and they all began to make their ways forward. Bugs swarmed the sandy plough way. The travellers walked in silence, save the occasional shriek of a lonely monkey. Trees with heads full of berries bowed down so that they resembled hunched old men. The atmosphere had turned a dusty orange due to the heat and animals lay by the waterbed. Alice began to run ahead of the other two and they ran after her. “Where are you going Alice?” Jem slowed down to a stop next to her.
“Look.” She pointed towards the sight of splendour in front of her. Crumbling ruins, beige and yellow with age. They were engraved with patterns of soldiers and with stories weaved through the brick.
“Woah.”


Realistic fiction:
Ben sighed and collapsed onto his bed. School today had been tough. Jason and his gang had been after him all break, and when they finally caught him they gave him a swirly. Ben grimaced as he thought of the lukewarm toilet water washing over his face, and decided to go have a shower just to make sure he had washed it all off - then decided to wait a little while. If mum saw him she would what had happened, and he didn't want to stress her out just after chemo. Ben wished his life was easier. He didn't know why he was always Jason's target. (Yuck I hate this)

Thriller: TW///// DR*G USE ////
It's exhilarating for a moment, but then it all comes crumbling down. And then there are the screams and the cries. And then there are the shouts. And then it all ends. Kalista feels a rush of blood crawl up into her head, then wash back down to her feet. She isn't used to this odd sensation. She likes it. These magical pills make her feel warm and happy. Then she gags, and vomits all over her front. She vomits until she feels empty inside, then pops another pill in her mouth. All of the cool kids use these, and none of them have these side effects. Is there something wrong with Kalista? She wonders.

Classics:
The attic is empty. You brush away a spider web and begin your search for the book. Grandmother has sent you up here to find it for her. Suddenly, the door slams shut with a start. You run toward it and start banging helplessly. Hopeless. Grandmother is as deaf as a doorknob and even if she did hear you'll be dead by the time she manages to come up the stairs. You hear a scuttle from the floorboards and look down. Mice. They'll get to you even before dehydration and lack of food. You feel so stupid. You sit down next to the door and quietly pray for a miracle.

Fairy-tales:
The dragon's den is beautiful. Fairy lights stay suspended in mid-air and the walls are decorated with velvet and jewels. The wonderful scent of meat stew fills the air. It's so warm and inviting. This will all belong to you once you kill The Grand One. You will be rich beyond measure once you kill The Grand One. You will be admired by all of the world once you kill The Grand One. The Almighty Grand One. The Grand One lays on the carpeted floor, its chest slowly rising and falling. You lift up your blade and sink it into the dragon's skin…

Science fiction:
“Coming down!”
Maria hops off of her hoverboard and sits next to me. I gape as she smiles.
“Cool, right?”
I grin and nod my head. Maria always has such high tech gadgets. I can't afford them (yet), but she always lets me try them out. I remember the robo-dog, the rollerglides. It obviously pays off having engineer parents. Mine are just boring old supermarket workers. It kind of hurts watching Maria flying around with her jet-back while wearing her virtual reality googles, but I don't mind too much. I just wish for once I could have my own things. Y'know?

Total word count: 1,880

Wow - this is fantastic! I just got online, I'll begin the weekly in a minute ^^ (by the way, in mystery, did you mean to put ‘anecdote’?)

RobynSkyTiger wrote:

in mystery, did you mean to put anecdote

thank you so much! and actually in mystery i meant to put antidote. thank you for pointing that out though!

this is super helpful- and your writing is amazing! :0 how long do you think this took you?

Oh that's how you do it-

Now I feel dumb

Wait, I am dumb

ap0l0 wrote:

how long do you think this took you?

an hour or two? i split it up into chunks though

TW/////// SU*CIDE, M*RDER, M*STERY, LGBTQ+, THR*ATENING LETTERS ///////

I don't believe I will be writing a story based off of this plan, but I couldn't write a plan for the story that I am currently writing because it's meant to be a surprise.

Characters:
Main - Cecila (Ses-ill-ah)
Sidekick - Santiago (Sant-e-ah-go)
Assistant - Solomon (Solly) (Soll-o-mon)
Main - Darcey-May (Dar-c-may)

Story is mainly about the main characters.
The sidekick helps the main character.
The assistant thickens the plot.

Setting:
Period - 21st century
Year - 2000
Country - America
Season - Summer

Plot: Darcey-May has been missing since 1990, on prom night. The police were never able to figure out what happened to her and she was believed to be deceased so the case was closed. When Cecila (the current favourite to be prom queen) begins to recieve threatening from a person claiming to be Darcey, Santiago and Solomon must help her figure out what is happening before it is too late.

Prologue: From Darcey-May's point of view (1990). She is voted onto prom court and the prologue ends with a cold hand being thrust over her mouth.

Beginning: From Cecila's point of view, eerily similar to Darcey-May's. She is voted onto prom court and receives a letter the same night where the person claims to be Darcey-May. Cecila talks about her brick phone and TV (to introduce the time period) and the state that she lives in (to introduce the setting).

Where to go next:
Idea 1 - Cecila rushes to Santiago and asks for help.
Idea 2 - Cecila goes to the police but they don't believe her.
Idea 3 - Cecila keeps the letter to herself until Santiago finds it one day.

I'll be writing the middle going along with the third idea.

Middle: From Santiago's point of view. He is over at Cecila's house one day, playing video games (ON THE BRICK TV). When Cecila is in the toilet he walks around her room and discovers a letter. At first he doesn't understand what it means but then finds out (I explained that really badly). He is hurt and worried. He confronts Cecila and she confides in him about how scared she is. They decide to work together to find out what is going on.

Clues also come out during the middle.

End: From Solomon's point of view. Darcey-May is found to be dead and it turns out that Cecila has been receiving the letters from her salty ex-boyfriend with whom she broke up with after she came out as lesbian. Santiago found him muttering to himself about the letters and took a video. Solomon was expelled and prom was cancelled.

TW///// SU*CIDE

Extra end: From Darcey-May's point of view. Darcey-May explains her suicidal thoughts and it turns out that she killed herself.

Word count: 412

I wrote two short excerpts during my tutoring!

TW/// FIRE

Thump. Thump. Thump. I could feel my heart thumping as I desperately pushed through the last few meters. I had to be quick. Blood coursed through my veins. Thump. Thump Thump. I was in. The warehouse gave off a rather unpleasant smell of damp, but I couldn't complain about that now. The walls were grey with dust (or were they always grey) and everything was slightly wet for some reason. I hauled my bag over my shoulder and slowly walked up the stairs. Moonlight glinted through the window as cars honked at each other. I didn't expect this many people to be out at this time of day - well really night. The graffiti bottles clunked together, and I took one out and shook it. I jiggled my hand around in my pocket, looking for my mask. Then I put it on and began. Big bright and bold streaks of colour patterned the brick. I felt so proud. My hands glided across, creating beautiful art that looked oh so lovely in this gloomy atmosphere. Free, I was so free.

Smoke everywhere. Smoke intoxicating. Smoke killing. Sundae couldn't see where she was going, smoke. The smoke scalded her lungs and slapped her in the face, smoke. What was happening? Smoke. A sudden flow of water washed over her head and washed away the… Smoke. Her fellow employees were huddled around her, trying to figure out a way to escape. They were fearful too. Fearful of the smoke. Scarlet flames licked at the walls, bit the chairs, burnt the people, created smoke. The smoke was coming. Fire alarms resounding, but no rescue. The smoke was coming. The smoke lifted up Sundae and threw her away. The smoke threw Sundae until there was no more… Smoke.

Total word count: 292

in realistic fiction, you wrote If mum saw him she would what had happened. Maybe write “If mum saw him she would want to know what happened…t” or “if mum saw him she would ask what had happened,…” Thanks and other than that this is amazing!

Here is my work for today's daily! I wrote a fast paced scene (a fight scene) in a slower pace and a slow paced scene (a romantic dancing scene) in a faster pace. I like the first piece more. What do you think?

Slow paced:
He looks into my eyes and breathes out a heavy sigh. I look into his, but keep my face stony and still. This is not the time to show emotion. As his fist connects with my face, I can feel the world spinning around me. My head smashes into the gravel and then still. The metallic taste of blood rushes from my torn gums. I slowly push myself back up and jab him in the stomach. His face turns to steel instantly as he doubles up and I leap on his back. This is the man that ended my mother. Now I am going to end him…

Fast paced:
She looks into my eyes and we dance. The world is silent, save the occasional squeak of a trainer on the granite floor. Mitsy Thompson is truly beautiful. She isn't that good at dancing though. She keeps stepping on my feet and then apologising profusely. I couldn't care less. This is the woman that I love and I just want it to be me and her, dancing in the moonlight. She tightens her arms around my neck and pulls me closer. I could get used to this. We dance the night away. We dance until our lungs burn and our eyes are heavy with exhaustion. The time goes by so fast, so very fast. I wish we could dance here forever.

Word count: 228

Here is my work for today's daily! I tried to include as many common ‘high school cliches’ in it as possible.

Jame walked along the corridor, shifting her glasses as she moved. She had been here for only a week and Brady had already decided that she was the one he was going to pick on for the rest of the year. Now nobody spoke to her, showed her around, or even looked at her. Suddenly, a girl popped out of nowhere.
“Hi Jame!” Her face stretched into a massive grin while Jame stared at her with a startled expression, sniffed, and then shifted up her glasses again.
“Umm…Hi?” She wasn't used to having attention. Jame was, to be honest, a nerd. Nerds weren't popular in high school. Nerds were ignored and bullied, with cool jocks like Brady doing the bidding.
“You don't know who I am. Do you?” The girl's smile faltered a little, but then regained its power.
“Siera Willimson at your service.” She stretched out of her hand and Jame warily took it - after checking it for an electric buzzer of course.
“W-Why are you speaking to me?” Jame yet again sniffed and shuffled around. She was antsy to get to class. Jame Clarke was never ever late.
“Why wouldn't I?”
“Why would you?”
Sierra smile grew even bigger.
“Well, Jame. I came to you because I have a plan. A plan to get rid of Brady Johnson and the hots-” the hots is what the football team members at Mapletree high were called- “once and for all…”
“Excuse me?”
“I'm pretty sure you heard me correctly the first time. I, for one, am tired of the way that geeks, nerds and outcasts are treated at this school. And I, for one, want to put an end to it.”
Jame laughed out loud. She wasn't trying to be rude, but Sierra's proposal was to ridiculous that she couldn't help it. Then she saw the way that her face fell.
“All right.”

Word count: 313

Weekly part one: TW// Su*cide, m*rder, dr*g use

Dear dad,
It's my last day on earth today. The last day that I will ever get to see your smile, hug you close, tell you everything's alright. The last day that I will ever get to remind you to take your pills, and tell you to not get too hung up on mom's death. I'm all you have, but by the time you're reading this, I'll be gone.

I don't believe in angels dad. I don't believe that I'll go to a better place or anything like that. I believe that I'll be buried deep underground and left to rot. It's not a very pleasant thought, is it dad? I wonder if mom thought about these things to. I wonder if she had this mind-numbing pain in her chest that just wouldn't go away - like I do. I wonder if she cried herself to sleep at night and wished that all of her worries would just go away - like I do. I wonder if mom just wanted to end it herself, not have somebody (or in her case, something) do it for her - like I do. I don't want to die dad. That's the first time I've ever said that. I don't want to die. Why should Griffith Haberdash get to change my best before date? Why should he get to make the decisions that I want to make? Why should a man so cold get to control everything? Dad I wish you would hear me. I wish I could talk to you like a normal human being.

Truth is, I'm scared dad. I'm scared that this could be the event that pushes you over the edge and into eternal darkness. You have been through so much. You were and are a great dad, dad. Never forget that. Mom dying was just so hard on you, that's why you're like this. I remember the day that she got her diagnosis. How you broke down in tears. I was almost as scared that day as I am now. I was worried about mom and about you and about me and about every * thing dad. Every * thing. I can't rest. I can't eat. I can't do anything without thinking about the Sacrifice and how it's going to affect me.

Is that selfish dad?

I remember how you used to sing me that song. Do you? You were humming it the day that mom died. I don't think you knew that you were humming it. I think that was the day that you snapped. The thing that kept you going what no longer there. Or do I keep you going? Sorry; did I keep you going? Is that why you took your medicine? Is that why you held on for just a bit longer? Dad?

I want answers dad.

Clouds of ivory dance upon my skin,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
My dreams of love are no longer a whim,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
Hold me darling,
Kiss me soft,
Touch my hand,
I hold aloft,
Clouds of ivory dance upon my skin,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
I'm here with you,

Without you.

That's how the song went. I still sing it every now and then. It reminds me of mom and of happier times, but I also sing it with an edge of regret. I regret my past decisions in life and I regret not making the most of my being. I regret not being there for mom when she needed it the most and not understanding what you were and are going through. I regret not standing up to Haberdash while I still had the chance and while I still had a voice.

It's too late now dad.

I didn't live my time to its fullest, and I regret that dad. I never even told you that I loved you. I'm dead dad. Dead as a doorknob.

I hated that saying.

Dad whatever anybody says, it's not your fault. It's not your fault that grief struck you in this way and made it so that you are unable to speak or communicate. I understand. I never blamed you. I don't blame you. Mom would've understood too. I feel like the parent writing this. I feel as if I am meant to be reassuring you that mom would be so proud of how far you have come and all that stuff, but I'm not the parent. I'm not the parent and never will be. You, however, will always be my darling daddy.

Don't forget that dad.

Don't forget me.

Don't forget to take your pills and brush your hair.

Don't forget to wake up in the mornings.

Don't forget how much I love(d) you.

I won't be able lay to rest if you forget.

Listen to my words. Read them aloud, maybe? I haven't heard your voice in ever so long. I hoped that I could hear it before it was too late. I don't know if you will find this. I don't know if you will pick this up and take the time to figure out what I'm really saying. I don't know if you're okay. I want you to say that you're okay. But you're not okay. You can't go outside or even talk. You need my help now but I can't give it to you. I pray that you won't shut down again. I pray that you won't have another relapse.

I pray so many things that I forget what I am praying for.

I'm here with you,
always.

Storm

Livia_10 wrote:

Weekly part one: TW// Su*cide, m*rder, dr*g use

Dear dad,
It's my last day on earth today. The last day that I will ever get to see your smile, hug you close, tell you everything's alright. The last day that I will ever get to remind you to take your pills, and tell you to not get too hung up on mom's death. I'm all you have, but by the time you're reading this, I'll be gone.

I don't believe in angels dad. I don't believe that I'll go to a better place or anything like that. I believe that I'll be buried deep underground and left to rot. It's not a very pleasant thought, is it dad? I wonder if mom thought about these things to. I wonder if she had this mind-numbing pain in her chest that just wouldn't go away - like I do. I wonder if she cried herself to sleep at night and wished that all of her worries would just go away - like I do. I wonder if mom just wanted to end it herself, not have somebody (or in her case, something) do it for her - like I do. I don't want to die dad. That's the first time I've ever said that. I don't want to die. Why should Griffith Haberdash get to change my best before date? Why should he get to make the decisions that I want to make? Why should a man so cold get to control everything? Dad I wish you would hear me. I wish I could talk to you like a normal human being.

Truth is, I'm scared dad. I'm scared that this could be the event that pushes you over the edge and into eternal darkness. You have been through so much. You were and are a great dad, dad. Never forget that. Mom dying was just so hard on you, that's why you're like this. I remember the day that she got her diagnosis. How you broke down in tears. I was almost as scared that day as I am now. I was worried about mom and about you and about me and about every * thing dad. Every * thing. I can't rest. I can't eat. I can't do anything without thinking about the Sacrifice and how it's going to affect me.

Is that selfish dad?

I remember how you used to sing me that song. Do you? You were humming it the day that mom died. I don't think you knew that you were humming it. I think that was the day that you snapped. The thing that kept you going what no longer there. Or do I keep you going? Sorry; did I keep you going? Is that why you took your medicine? Is that why you held on for just a bit longer? Dad?

I want answers dad.

Clouds of ivory dance upon my skin,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
My dreams of love are no longer a whim,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
Hold me darling,
Kiss me soft,
Touch my hand,
I hold aloft,
Clouds of ivory dance upon my skin,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
I'm here with you,

Without you.

That's how the song went. I still sing it every now and then. It reminds me of mom and of happier times, but I also sing it with an edge of regret. I regret my past decisions in life and I regret not making the most of my being. I regret not being there for mom when she needed it the most and not understanding what you were and are going through. I regret not standing up to Haberdash while I still had the chance and while I still had a voice.

It's too late now dad.

I didn't live my time to its fullest, and I regret that dad. I never even told you that I loved you. I'm dead dad. Dead as a doorknob.

I hated that saying.

Dad whatever anybody says, it's not your fault. It's not your fault that grief struck you in this way and made it so that you are unable to speak or communicate. I understand. I never blamed you. I don't blame you. Mom would've understood too. I feel like the parent writing this. I feel as if I am meant to be reassuring you that mom would be so proud of how far you have come and all that stuff, but I'm not the parent. I'm not the parent and never will be. You, however, will always be my darling daddy.

Don't forget that dad.

Don't forget me.

Don't forget to take your pills and brush your hair.

Don't forget to wake up in the mornings.

Don't forget how much I love(d) you.

I won't be able lay to rest if you forget.

Listen to my words. Read them aloud, maybe? I haven't heard your voice in ever so long. I hoped that I could hear it before it was too late. I don't know if you will find this. I don't know if you will pick this up and take the time to figure out what I'm really saying. I don't know if you're okay. I want you to say that you're okay. But you're not okay. You can't go outside or even talk. You need my help now but I can't give it to you. I pray that you won't shut down again. I pray that you won't have another relapse.

I pray so many things that I forget what I am praying for.

I'm here with you,
always.

Storm

OMG!! This is so so so good. And really sad. But really good. IM crying. This is so good. Ok, I think you get that this is so good now!

I finished the weekly!

TW/// Death, s*cide, m*rder, dr*g use (for medicinal purposes only)

Part one:

Dear dad,
It's my last day on earth today. The last day that I will ever get to see your smile, hug you close, tell you everything's alright. The last day that I will ever get to remind you to take your pills, and tell you to not get too hung up on mom's death. I'm all you have, but by the time you're reading this, I'll be gone.

I don't believe in angels dad. I don't believe that I'll go to a better place or anything like that. I believe that I'll be buried deep underground and left to rot. It's not a very pleasant thought, is it dad? I wonder if mom thought about these things to. I wonder if she had this mind-numbing pain in her chest that just wouldn't go away - like I do. I wonder if she cried herself to sleep at night and wished that all of her worries would just go away - like I do. I wonder if mom just wanted to end it herself, not have somebody (or in her case, something) do it for her - like I do. I don't want to die dad. That's the first time I've ever said that. I don't want to die. Why should Griffith Haberdash get to change my best before date? Why should he get to make the decisions that I want to make? Why should a man so cold get to control everything? Dad I wish you would hear me. I wish I could talk to you like a normal human being.

Truth is, I'm scared dad. I'm scared that this could be the event that pushes you over the edge and into eternal darkness. You have been through so much. You were and are a great dad, dad. Never forget that. Mom dying was just so hard on you, that's why you're like this. I remember the day that she got her diagnosis. How you broke down in tears. I was almost as scared that day as I am now. I was worried about mom and about you and about me and about every * thing dad. Every * thing. I can't rest. I can't eat. I can't do anything without thinking about the Sacrifice and how it's going to affect me.

Is that selfish dad?

I remember how you used to sing me that song. Do you? You were humming it the day that mom died. I don't think you knew that you were humming it. I think that was the day that you snapped. The thing that kept you going what no longer there. Or do I keep you going? Sorry; did I keep you going? Is that why you took your medicine? Is that why you held on for just a bit longer? Dad?

I want answers dad.

Clouds of ivory dance upon my skin,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
My dreams of love are no longer a whim,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
Hold me darling,
Kiss me soft,
Touch my hand,
I hold aloft,
Clouds of ivory dance upon my skin,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
I'm here with you,
Here with you,
I'm here with you,

Without you.

That's how the song went. I still sing it every now and then. It reminds me of mom and of happier times, but I also sing it with an edge of regret. I regret my past decisions in life and I regret not making the most of my being. I regret not being there for mom when she needed it the most and not understanding what you were and are going through. I regret not standing up to Haberdash while I still had the chance and while I still had a voice.

It's too late now dad.

I didn't live my time to its fullest, and I regret that dad. I never even told you that I loved you. I'm dead dad. Dead as a doorknob.

I hated that saying.

Dad whatever anybody says, it's not your fault. It's not your fault that grief struck you in this way and made it so that you are unable to speak or communicate. I understand. I never blamed you. I don't blame you. Mom would've understood too. I feel like the parent writing this. I feel as if I am meant to be reassuring you that mom would be so proud of how far you have come and all that stuff, but I'm not the parent. I'm not the parent and never will be. You, however, will always be my darling daddy.

Don't forget that dad.

Don't forget me.

Don't forget to take your pills and brush your hair.

Don't forget to wake up in the mornings.

Don't forget how much I love(d) you.

I won't be able lay to rest if you forget.

Listen to my words. Read them aloud, maybe? I haven't heard your voice in ever so long. I hoped that I could hear it before it was too late. I don't know if you will find this. I don't know if you will pick this up and take the time to figure out what I'm really saying. I don't know if you're okay. I want you to say that you're okay. But you're not okay. You can't go outside or even talk. You need my help now but I can't give it to you. I pray that you won't shut down again. I pray that you won't have another relapse.

I pray so many things that I forget what I am praying for.

I'm here with you,
always.

Storm

Part two:

I wake up at six thirty on the dot, luckily so as my bladder is about to burst. Mornings like this are always unpleasant, but I'm kind of grateful that my body clock helps me get ready. Dad can't afford alarms of any kind. Dad. I open the door a crack and go check on him. Ever since mom died I can't trust my father to be alone. He's sleeping. I hope. I walk a little closer and see his chest rise and fall. I can relax now. I rush downstairs (I don't know why) and decide what to make for breakfast. I need to make enough for both of us now that I can't trust dad to make his own. My ruling comes easily as when I look in the fridge I only find a bottle of milk, some meat for tonight and an apple and then when I look in the pantry only find half a bag of cornflakes. Cereal it is. I'll buy some more food later. It's not long before I finish my meal, leaving dad's bowl on the table. I hope he eats it, but I can never be sure while I'm at school. Next I go brush my teeth, pull on a hoodie and jeans and brush my hair.
“Da-ad! Come down here to take your pills,” a groan sounds from upstairs and I hear heavy footsteps trudging down our oak stairs. Dad shoves his pills in his mouth as I give him a bright (and fake) smile and then trudges back up. I sometimes wish that he would actually speak to me, even though I know that will never happen.

I wish…

Never mind that! I open the door and shout,
“Da-ad! I'm going to school now-” a grunt this time. I slam the door and walk out.

Part three:

Storm x Ai

Storm and Ai (her father) have an odd relationship, where Storm takes care of Ai instead of Ai taking care of Storm. Ai fell into a depression once Storm's mom died, which got so bad that he isn't able to communicate properly or come out of the house. Storm becomes angry at Ai when she overhears a conversation between him and Sir Griffith Haberdash, talking about the Sacrifice and Ai thanking Griffith for choosing her to die (he regrets this later), but calms down once he explains his reasoning. Storm often worries about what will happen to Ai when she is gone. He does not remember to take his medication without her. That is why Storm joins the rebel.

Thea x Marlowe

Thea and Marlowe are best friends, but with a dysfunctional relationship where they rarely speak and don't feel they can tell each other secrets. Both of them have had tragic pasts though (prologue), which may explain their trust issues. Later in the story, it is revealed that Marlowe has been snitching on Thea's actions and it causes the end of their friendship UNTIL Marlowe explains why she was doing it. Their friendship does end once and for all, however, when Thea realises that Marlowe was lying and has been assisting Jason in his evil actions. Thea discovers that she is on her own after this.

Meisha x Mila

Meisha and Mila are the perfect sisters. Meisha became a mother figure for Mila after their mum sadly passed away and was devastated when she found out that she had been chosen for the Sacrifice. Meisha was chosen on the same Sacrifice that Mila was eligible for (as she came of the appropriate age) so she feels guilty even though Meisha being chosen had nothing to do with her. Both of them are scared about what is going to happen when Meisha is gone and Meisha is constantly looking for ways to escape her death. That is why she joined the rebel.

Here's yesterday's daily work! I'm saving it here in case I ever get writers' block


1. A girl, thought to be dead, appears twenty years after her mysterious disappearance - with no signs of aging and no recollection of anything that happened in the past two decades.
2. The world goes back in time to before Covid-19 happens and only a little boy remembers it. He must try to convince the government about what is going to happen before it's too late.
3. A keyboard smash contains the only letters that people can use
aiudiadowiyaodywoygisdogsagyiqs
4. Water suddenly turns dry and everybody has to live off of juice
@type2diabetes
5. There are no more classes and everybody is treated equally

1. Peppa Pig is elected as the prime minister of England and decides to declare war on America for making fun of British accents. She also bans pork :0 People decide to rebel and she kills all of them off.
2. The world turns into a literal Hunger Games but instead of fighting everybody eats each other. Survival of the fittest > Who can last the longest?

Here's today's daily work! I found it super fun to write about Thea from my Girl on the run story after so long.

Thea fingered the emerald pendant that hung around her neck. Apparently she had been found with it when, well, they found her unconscious underneath a boulder. Thea kept it as a reminder that her grievous past was not just a fragment of her imagination. It was so very real and it scared Thea so very much. Children in the orphanage had always marveled at this wonderful trinket. It was not often that they got to see such richery, or jewelry for that matter. The only reason that Thea was allowed to keep it was because the necklace was a massive part of the police investigation. When a child is found injured in a beauty spot with no recollection of anything that has happened in the past ten years it always causes a massive conundrum. Especially since this never happens. Thea would always rub it when trying to remember anything. Literally anything would help the case - Thea's was probably one of the most confusing and creepy ones that the police had ever handled. It scared her. She didn't like the pendant. She hated it in fact. But she could never put it down. It was as if she was drawn to it like a magnet. Her hands always had to caress it. She would clean it when it became dirty, she would polish the gems when they did not even need polishing. She loved this thing in the same way that she loathed it. This was extremely confusing to Thea. That is why the pendant was important to her…

Bored:
I didn't even want to come here. Mom forced me to because I'm apparently ‘antisocial’ and need to get out more. At least, that's what she said. I could be lying in bed right now, about to go to sleep, but instead I'm at Tonya Greene's annual (of course) New Year's party. I don't even like Tonya! The food sucks, the music is ‘hip’ instead of the indie that like, it's full of boys showing off and girls simpering over them and just really, really boring. It should be illegal for parents to force their kids to go to parties. Most kids my age would kill for the chance to go without any fuss, but not me. I like to be left alone with a good book in a quiet atmosphere. Here, the floor is literally shaking as the base is booming so loud. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. BORED!

Excited:
I'm so excited! This is my first real party and THE TONYA GREENE invited me! Oh my gosh! At my old school I was super unpopular, but here they actually like me. I think… Jason even flirted with me a little! Well, I think he did. I love the music so much, the food tastes great and the room is filled with cute boys. Who knows, Maybe the next party I get invited to I will actually have a date? My mom was super excited too. She's happy that I'm not getting bullied anymore. It really helps that I got my braces removed and started curling my hair. A new look, a new school, hopefully new friends - eek! What if Tonya Greene wants to be my buddy? Oops, I probably shouldn't say buddy, that's really uncool. What if Tonya Greene wants to be my homie? Eek! Eek! Eek!

Angry:
I can't believe Thomas dumped me! And in front of everyone too? I'm so embarrassed and angry and upset and- I thought we would be together forever. I bet Tonya only invited me to get back at me for the whole ‘you stole him’ drama. I didn't, I swear! She must have planned it all before hand. She makes my stomach churn does Tonya. Little brat that thinks she knows everything. Ugh. The music here is old, the food is just yuck, the boys here are immature and worst of all, TONYA GREENE LIVES IN THIS HOME! I'm going to start dating a college student, I swear. I want to leave right now but Chloe is prompting me to stay ‘til midnight. I don’t want to, but I'll do it for a friend I guess. This is just really annoying. I guess I'll also stay so I don't get seen as the girl who left the New Years' party early. That would suck.

Ignore

Old: Once upon a time there was a little girl named Allison !She had long blonde hair and big blue eyes she was a good girl.She was 3 years old and lived in a big,great mansion.Her mom was the singer Taylor Swift and her dad was the movie star Tom Hiddleston .They both loved her so much.She always wore a rainbow coloured bow in her hair because her parents loved bows.She went to bed at eight o’clock.Today it was christmas Alison was very excited she left santa claus a gift it was some whiskey a mince pie some cookies and a carrot for the reindeer.When she got up in her stocking she found a dolly with curly brown hair big red lips and amazing