A place for me to put my SWC writing during this session

I'm going to be confusing and use this post (and this post only) for March 2022's session, since apparently I can't make any new ones.

-daily thing that I never finished in time but completed anyway~

There had been a lot of far-fetched rumors about the abandoned house on the hill, and I believed every single one of them.
What? I couldn’t help the fact I was gullible.
The rumors said there was mystical stuff in there. Stuff from an era long gone, collected by the insane old man that used to live there (whom no one’s seen in years). Stuff like crystallized pixie tears, dragon breath in a jar, and radioactive stardust, all just waiting for some idiot to come along and mess with them. Cause some chaos.
Which is where my friend Tyler comes in.
I had just been sitting on the computer, playing some good ol’ video games, when I heard a knock. I perked up, saving and closing, and raced to the door, swinging it open with energy I hadn’t known I’d been building up.
“Hey, Erin, do you want to - ” he began to say, but I interrupted him.
“Hi, Tyler, how are you doing?”
He paused for a second, then continued. He’d learned by now that I was like this. “Good, but I was wondering - ”
“You hungry? I made some cookies the other day,” I interrupted again.
“That’s great, Erin, but - ”
“Flour got everywhere, but I managed to clean - ”
“Erin.”
I froze, realizing what I was doing. I swallowed down the rest of my words. His time to talk. His time. I chuckled nervously.
“Thank you,” Tyler said, breathing in and out. He was nice, but even the nicest people couldn’t take much of me. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to check out the house on the hill with me.”
“The house on the hill? You mean the house?” I inquired skeptically.
“Yes. I mean, it’s a nice day outside, and I’m in the mood for some, well…” he pointed finger guns at me and winked, “adventure.”
I thought for a moment. What about the myths and rumors? No one had gone up there in years for a reason. The last time someone had gone up there - a group of rowdy teenagers - they hadn’t come out. At least, that was what my mom had told me. And all the rumors…
But then again, Tyler was my only friend, and saying no would definitely let him down. I realized…I had no choice.
I had to go with him.
“All right,” I said, wringing my hands together. “But you have to explain to our parents if we get in trouble.”

The house on the hill definitely didn’t seem inviting. The boarded-up windows, the sagging door, and rotting wood that was so out of place with the well-kept suburban neighborhood nearby gave me an uneasy feeling. Maybe this had been a mistake.
Who was I kidding? This had obviously been a mistake, and I was an idiot to go through with it.
Me and Tyler stopped in front of the door.
“So, do you want to open it, or…” Tyler said, looking at me with pleading eyes. He evidently didn’t want to. But I didn’t want to either, and this had been his idea in the first place. I stared at him for a minute before he sighed. “Alright, I’ll do it.”
The door creaked as it swung in, reminding me of every single cliché horror movie ever. A strange tingly feeling settled around me, and I shifted nervously.
A look inside showed me something I hadn’t expected to see: a normal house.
Tyler stepped in, and I followed him. We both looked around in wonder at the surprisingly dull setup of a couch on the left next to a bookshelf and a table with a single wooden chair to the right, and a nice-looking rug on the floor.
“This can’t be right,” Tyler said dazedly, running his hand along the couch. “Where’s all the magical paraphernalia?”
“Does this mean the rumors are false?” I asked both myself and Tyler, looking around the normal - although slightly worn down - home.
Something didn’t feel right, though. They had to have been based on something.
“Look! Over there!” Tyler exclaimed, pointing to a trapdoor in the ground, hidden behind the bookshelf. “Now that’s more like it!”
He raced over, immediately trying to open the trapdoor. I came up behind him, looking over his shoulder as his shaking hands tried to untie a complicated knot.
“You know, maybe we should just - ” I began to say, but was interrupted by an exclamation of joy from Tyler.
“I’ve got it!” he said, pulling the rope off and throwing it to the side. He opened it with a heave, revealing a ladder leading down into darkness.
“I’m going down,” he said. “I’m going down.”
“Tyler, we really shouldn’t,” I said, backing up.
He looked at me with gleaming eyes that somehow managed to unsettle me more than the dark path down to who knows where. “Come on, don’t you want a little adventure?”
He was my only friend. He would hate me, if I said no. You have to, I told myself. You owe it to him.
“Okay, just - just you go first,” I stammered.
Tyler nodded, a gleeful smile on his face, and climbed down into the depths. When he disappeared, I took a deep breath, crossed my fingers, and followed after him.
When I touched the ground, it was dark. I blinked one, two, three, four, five times, trying to adjust to the sudden change. “Tyler? You there?”
“Nope, but I am,” a foreign and cheerful voice said, and everything went black as something crashed down over my head.

I woke up in a prison cell with a rotting corpse next to me.
I let out a high pitched scream and jumped up, racing back until I slammed into the opposite wall. Tyler stood next to me, quivering.
“WHAT ARE THOSE?” he shouted, pointing at the body. Or rather, bodies. I counted three of them.
“I don’t know!” I shouted back. But inside, I did know. The story my mom had told me, about the teenagers who’d come to this house and never came back. And, sure enough, a sickening second glance let me see ‘90’s style clothing and teenage-sized bodies.
I could barely stop myself from throwing up.
I stood for a second, my eyes squeezed shut as I tried to imagine different surroundings. My bedroom, perhaps, with that one pink wall that I regretted the color of. My dark brown wooden desk, covered in discarded papers. My disorganized bookshelf. Anything.
I eventually made myself open my eyes and look around at where I was. Deliberately ignoring what was across from me.
We were in a small stone room, with metal bars only giving a glimpse of an indiscernible hallway blocking the way out to me and Tyler’s left. A dim light flickered above, giving us some illumination. A door off to the right led to a miniscule room with a hole in the ground that I identified as a bathroom. At least it was a separate room. As far as beds or anything comfortable went, there was nothing. This was such a horrible, horrible, idea. I couldn’t help but not feel furious at Tyler. He was the reason we were in here. This was all his fault. But then again, I’d gone with him. That had been my choice.
“Do you know how we got in here?” Tyler asked, breaking the silence. “I just touched down at the bottom of the ladder, and everything went black.”
I swallowed. “I asked where you were, and someone - not you - replied. But they didn’t say much and then knocked me out.”
Tyler sat down. I didn’t have the courage to, so I just kept standing. But I turned around to face him instead of our dead prison mates.
“So obviously they knocked us out. But what do they want with us? And who are they? Wait, could it be that old man who disappeared?” Tyler theorized.
“It’s not very nice to be called old, you know,” the voice from earlier said from outside the bars. Both me and Tyler raced over to see if we could see anything.
Harsh lights blazed on, and I blinked as I tried to adjust. Soon I made out an elderly man with bald hair, miniature bright blue eyes, and an unnaturally kind smile . He wore clothes from another decade: a light beige shirt, the kind with buttons, and dark brown overalls with black boots.
“Hey, uh, could you let us out?” I asked, my fingers twitching. I was being stupid. Talking when I wasn’t supposed to.
The old man sighed. “No, I’m afraid not. You see, I need to make sure no one comes by here. And therefore, I need to make sure that anyone who comes in here never gets out.” He gestured to the bodies. “As you can see, I’ve already had to do that once already.”
This was wrong. Villains were supposed to cackle maniacally, not sigh and feel bad for you.
“W-why do you not want anyone to come here?” Tyler asked, stepping forward. The gleam in his eyes came back again. “Are you secretly a wizard? Are you immortal?”
“We would, um, really like it, if you, um, let us out,” I said again. I wanted to slap myself, but I couldn’t stop the panic I felt seeping in like syrup on pancakes. He was going to keep us here. Forever. Until we starved, or died of thirst. The latter would probably happen first, if I remembered that weird fact right. Was I starting to feel thirsty?
The man ignored me. “I don’t like people,” he said simply. When he caught me and Tyler’s strange glances, he coughed and elaborated. “Well, it was a while ago. When I was a young man. My wife…she passed away. And soon enough, people just stopped making me happy. I began to cherish my alone time, and dread any time I had to spend with people. They told me it would pass, but I wasn’t so sure. And, soon, I’d had enough.
“I made a rash decision: I moved out here, which was a much more rural area at the time. Eventually, however, with the building of more roads, people started coming over here to this town. People started coming over here, introducing themselves. I knew I had to do something about it. So I removed myself from society, made my house look run-down, spread rumors. Didn’t show my face in public for years.
“And yet, people still came - so I built this place, down here, to imprison the next people who came and make sure they never got out. Make sure people were really, truly, scared of me. And it worked! Mostly. Because you two are here now, and I’ll just do the same thing again and have freedom from people for years more!”
I stared at him, my hopes sinking like stones. This man wasn’t in his right mind, he wouldn’t let us out.
Unless…I thought back to every conversation where I’d annoyed the other
person. Which was a lot. If I could annoy the average person, maybe I could annoy this man so much he just…let us go? Oh, this was a stupid plan - but it was the stupid plans that always worked, right?
“I made chocolate chip cookies the other day,” I said spontaneously.
The old man looked at me with surprise. “Uh…”
“They tasted pretty good, but I got flour everywhere. You know, speaking of flour, it sounds a lot like the other flower. The pretty kind. Do you have any flowers here? It’s a little moody, and - ”
The old man huffed. “Could you please - ”
“Oops, sorry, sometimes I get carried away with how much I talk sometimes. It’s a bad habit, but I tend to do it a lot. Before we came over here, Tyler came over to my house, and I managed to keep interrupting him - ”
“Just, stop. Ugh, leaving people behind was a good - ”
“And speaking of which, he’s my only friend, and he’s pretty nice. But he does tend to get me into messes like these - ”
“Hey! They aren’t all my fault,” Tyler exclaimed. Then his voice dropped to a whisper. “And what are you doing? Do you want to make the crazy old man mad at us?”
I gave him a nod, and whispered trust me. I continued before he could say anything else.
“Anyway, how do you live by yourself? What about food, and water, and maintenance - I couldn’t do those by myself, it’s impressive you can - ”
“I see what you’re trying to do now,” the old man said, smiling again. “Trying to annoy me, so I’ll let you out. Well, it won’t work.” The old man started shuffling away, killing my last hopes. Why hadn’t that worked? It was supposed to have worked! “I’ll leave you two to die, now.”
A tear ran down my cheek as he walked out of sight. The lights flicked off again, leaving me and Tyler in semi-darkness, left alone again with only the overhead light that died off soon enough.
We’re doomed, I thought. We’re doomed to sit here and rot, our families never knowing what happened to us.
“Why didn’t that work?” Tyler asked. I wasn’t sure if it was directed at me or the universe. “Daring moves like that, stupid ideas, they’re supposed to work.”
“I guess…this is real life,” I said. “We’re just doomed.”
Tyler sighed, sitting down again and leaning against the wall across from the bodies. I sat down next to him, not caring anymore.
A strange, peaceful feeling settled over me. Knowing I was doomed gave the calm of knowing I couldn’t do anything. That I may as well just sit and let it come. No more worrying about friends, or about how I had to get better at talking. Just the knowledge that I could sit and wait it out. That nothing I did mattered.
But I couldn’t just sit there bored until I died.
“So, do you want to play 20 Questions?”

Read it in the order it has been put in and don't judge me XD It goes like:
Part 2
Part 1
Part 4
Part 3
TW: Death, blood, and other possibly disturbing elements
Note: Jamie's texts have grammatical/spelling errors on purpose.

Part 2 (377 words)
Jamie looked at his phone as a text popped up. It was from Brian.
Picking her up now, can’t wait
His fingers danced across the screen as he penned a response. Brian would be proposing tonight.
Awsom man! You got this, just be cool..
Jamie pressed send, realizing his multiple spelling mistakes after the fact. It didn’t matter.
She’s coming out to the car, got to go
Jamie smiled.
Good luck she can’t turn you down, dude
We’ll see about that
Jamie was about to power off his phone and get started watching Judge Judy yell at stupid people when his phone rang. Sighing, he answered it and plopped down on the worn-in couch sitting in his dorm. He, Brian, and John-but neither of them knew him very well. Jamie and Brian, on the other hand, had been close friends since…he couldn’t even remember.
“Brian, I told you-” Jamie began, exasperated, but was cut off by a voice that definitely wasn’t Brian.
“It isn’t Brian. This is your boss, Kevin.”
“Sorry, sorry-” Jamie said, flushing. “Anyways, what do you want?”
“Can you work an extra shift tonight?”
“Come on, man, it’s a weekend, and-”
“I could give you a raise.”
“Please, I’m really busy-”
“Your date can wait. You’re the only person we have right now who doesn’t have a valid excuse-”
“A date isn’t?”
“We need you to work right now.”
“Sorry man, I can’t.”
Jamie could imagine Kevin’s flustered expression. “You might get fired for this.”
Jamie was silent. This stupid job was the only way he was staying in college-and the flight program. He had dreams of becoming a pilot, but right now the amount of money he had, even with his parent’s help, wasn’t cutting it. His job as the shipment driver for EALA was the only thing he had, despite it being time-consuming.
“So you’ll do it?”
Jamie thought of the scenario he’d been dreaming of since a child: him, pressing all the buttons, switching all the levers, and saying into the microphone, “This is your pilot speaking.”
“Fine,” Jamie complied.
“Thank you,” Kevin said gratefully.
Jamie hung up. He had to get going, he supposed. Exasperated, he put on his coat and shoes and headed out the door.

Part 1 (502 words and way too long)
The restaurant had been way above Brian’s budget.
But then again, the ring had been a bigger stretch. And Brian hadn’t even questioned that purchase. It was worth it for Katie.
Brian had asked Katie on a date to a restaurant around 30 minutes away from their town, where Katie lived, and the college, where Brian lived. He’d offered to pick her up and drive her home-what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t?
Now, Brian and Katie sat in the restaurant, waiting for their meal. Brian lightly fingered the ring case in his pocket. He had to do it sometime. Not yet, though. He would procrastinate as long as possible.
“So, what’s the special occasion?” Katie asked, smiling her perfect smile.
“Uh, I-I just wanted to take you on a special date, that’s all.” Brian smiled nervously. He wanted it to be a surprise.
Katie’s expression turned serious. “You’re not dumping me, are you?”
“Nonononono I’d never do that.” Brian scrambled to protest.
Katie’s serious expression morphed back into a smile. “I was just toying with you, silly.”
Brian let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.” He changed the subject quickly. “Do you know when the heck our food will get here? I swear, that
table over there ordered after us, and they’ve got their food already.”
“Yeah, it does seem so.” Her eyes looked around the room until she pinpointed a waiter. “Hey, mister, do you know when our food will be coming?” She called.
The waiter scrambled over, looking flustered. “Sorry, sorry, just a few more minutes. I’ll bring it to you myself.” He promised.
“Thanks.” Katie replied. She’s so nice. And just…she’s just amazing. Brian thought.
“So, what was the real reason you wanted to bring me here?” Katie asked as the waiter left.
Just do it. You got this. Brian took a deep breath and fumbling, he pulled the ring out of his pocket. He tried to open it like they did in the movies, dramatically pulling the lid open and looking into the other person’s eyes with love and all that jazz.
The small problem was, he couldn’t get the lid open. So he ended up scratching his idea and just struggling to pry the thing open. Katie looked confused for a moment, then she got it.
“Brian-” She said, looking embarrassed. Almost as much as Brian.
“One-second-almost-got it-” Brian finally managed to pop the thing open. He barely caught the ring, which had flown out of the case. He saw Katie staring at him with a look of pity, and his face turned the color of a tomato. Regardless, he held up the ring feebly.
“Will you marry me?” He asked, looking her in the eyes, trying to look serious and not like he’d just completely embarrassed himself. At his words, several people from the restaurant turn to look at Brian and Katie.
Katie was silent for one breath-stealing moment. Then her expression turned ecstatic, and Brian had his answer:
“Yes!”

Part 4 (1333)
It had been 6 months since the accident.
Brian still remembered it vividly though, still remembered every painful detail.
He’d been driving Katie home on the empty road after their date, where he’d proposed. She’d said yes, and Brian had been elated. He’d relaxed a bit on his driving, having calmed down after he’d been so worked up before the proposal.
He’d been turning left onto the road leading to the suburbs when a semi was driving towards them. Brian had thought it would stop, that it would let them turn.
It didn’t.
Brian still remembered Katie’s piercing scream as the semi came too close. Remembered how it had grown louder as the semi hit them. How it had been brutally cut off with a crunch as the semi destroyed Katie’s half of the car.
Brian could only remember bits and pieces after that. Glass cutting into his face. The car alarm beeping desperately. The ambulance coming. People telling him it would be okay, when it really, really, wouldn’t.
He also remembered waking up in the hospital. His mind had been foggy, his body in pain, but he immediately thought of Katie. Where was she? That was when memories came crashing down. Katie’s screams. The semi. Her abrupt silence.
The doctor came in.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Brian asked, tears leaking out of his eyes.
The doctor was silent.
“ANSWER ME!” Brian shouted, looking at the doctor.
“Katie was dead before we could even get her to the hospital. The semi crushed her, Brian.” The doctor explained.
“No,” Brian whispered, his voice quivering. This was impossible. Not now. They’d just been engaged, and they were going to get married and they would live together and have three kids and a cat and-
The doctor began running some tests. Brian didn’t care though. He didn’t even notice. He was being torn inside out with grief. He wanted to scream, scream at the world, but his voice wouldn’t work. He couldn’t make a sound. There was a ball in his throat, a ball of anger and misery that kept him silent.
So he suffered quietly.

A few days later, Jamie came in. He was crying and blubbering, escorted in by the doctor. Brian looked up, relieved to see a familiar face. He wanted to say hello, you finally came, something of the sort, but the ball was still in his throat, blocking any sound. But why was Jamie crying?
“I’m-I’m so sorry, Brian, I’m sorry she’s dead, I didn’t mean to-” Jamie was incoherently babbling.
Don’t worry, Jamie. It wasn’t your fault, Brian’s mind said, but all his body could do was open up his arms for a hug.
“You don’t know, do you?” Jamie asked.
Know what? Brian got a sinking feeling that blended in with his already raging, ever-present grief.
“Brian, I-I was the one driving the semi,” Jamie said. “My boss had called me to do a delivery late at night, and I couldn’t see your car, and I heard this horrible crunch-”
Brian’s voice worked for the first time in days. “Leave.” It was rough and hoarse, but it was a shock to the doctor and Jamie.
“Brian, please, I’m so sorry-”
“Leave.” Brian repeated the word, louder this time. Images of the crash flashed through his head again, of Katie’s terrible cut-off scream.
The doctor whispered something to Jamie and he left. It was probably something about Brian not being ready yet.
But Brian would never be ready.

That had all been 6 months ago. Since then, Brian had only declined. He’d cut off all interaction with anyone. His parents had tried to set him up with a therapist, but Brian had refused any help. No one could understand the roiling pit of anger that filled him, that made him want to shout and scream, and the ball of grief in his throat blocking it.
His parents had had him move back home so they could keep a better eye on his mental state, but he just sat in his room and stared at the wall, his mind trying to hold on to his only memories of Katie. He didn’t want them to fade. He was terrified of forgetting her and moving on, but he didn’t know if he could ever forget her scream.
A knock sounded from his bedroom door. He didn’t move. His silence alone would let whoever it was know they could come in.
It was his mom, as usual. Probably going to try to get him to come out for dinner.
“Brian, there’s someone who wants to see you.” She said, a hopeful tone in her voice. Some kind of therapist. Childhood friend. Santa. Doesn’t she know that this won’t work?
But instead someone who Brian hadn’t seen for 6 months steps through the door. Jamie. Brian’s mom steps back, closing the door behind her. A mistake.
“Hey, man.” He waves awkwardly, looking Brian up and down. A pitying expression crosses his face. Brian knew he looked like he just came out of the sewer-he hadn’t showered in 3 months and he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gone outside.
“Leave.” Brian repeated for the third time. The only word he’d spoken since Katie’s death.
“Look, I’m so, so, sorry for what happened, but I miss being your friend. I can help you through this.” He gestured around the room that was littered with trash and dirt and hadn’t been cleaned in months.
Brian took a deep breath and cleared his voice. “Do you want to move on from what happened Jamie? Like it had never happened in the first place? Because I don’t know about you,” Brian got up from the bed and started walking towards Jamie. A quiver entered his voice as he continued. “But I have nightmares. About the crash. Not just nightmares, but memories too. I remember Katie’s scream in full detail. It’s the only thing that plays through my head every day. I remember that horrid crunch as your semi ran our car-and her-over. And I can’t just move on from that, OK?”
Brian was pushing Jamie back towards the door now, walking forward with anger and the words he hadn’t been able to say for months finally pouring out. “And you were the one who killed her. ‘I couldn’t see the car,’ you say, well maybe you need glasses!” Brian shoved him against the door. His anger was pouring out like tea out of a kettle.
“Me and Katie had a future! I loved her. I loved her more than you can ever imagine. And now that she’s gone, a big gaping hole the size of a mountain has opened up right here.” He said the last phrase with gritted teeth, his face right up into Jeremy’s.
“Please, you don’t have to move on, I just want to be friends again. Like in the good old days. Remember when Mr. Miller would yell at us for being late to class? Everyone would look at us and-” Jamie desperately tried to calm Brian down and stepped away from the door, ending up standing a few feet in front of Brian’s desk.
It wouldn’t work. “You still don’t understand. I will never be the same again. I can’t laugh anymore, Jamie. And it’s all thanks to you!” At the last words, Brian shoved Jamie, hard. As he fell, his head slammed into the corner of the desk. He collapsed, and blood started pouring from his head. Brian dropped down, feeling Jamie’s wrist for a pulse. Was he…? No, no, no, no, no…
Brian felt nothing. No pulse. No pulse meant he was dead. Brian had killed him. He desperately tried to sit Jamie up, to make him wake up, to reverse it. Reverse what he’d just done.
Brian let out a sob as he realized the reality of the situation. The anger that he’d felt so fiercely a few seconds ago was gone. Now he just felt hollow.
Completely, utterly, and indescribably hollow.

Part 3 (89 words and mostly for informational purposes)
Villain Name: Brian
Hair color: Black
Eye color: Green
Skin color: White
Brian’s motivation is the anger he feels after Katie’s death and targets at Jamie. While he doesn’t necessarily have malicious plans laid out, the murder of Jamie could classify him as a villain.
After Katie’s death, Brian becomes increasingly depressed and falls into an unstable mental state. A visit from Jamie lights kinder coated in oil and causes Brian to lash out, in a way seeking revenge for Jamie crushing the car and in turn killing Katie.

Nov. 5th daily
Notes:I couldn't really remember my dreams, so I looked up bizarre writing prompts. I o v e r d i d it and made it like the size of a weekly XD
help me
TW: Blood, mention of cannibalism (don't question me), death
why yes, the ending is horrible-
TRY WRITING 2000+ WORDS IN 24 HOURS WITH SCHOOL AND SLEEP
it censored c r a p
who censors c r a p

/The Wolves are coming./
The obscure text from my friend Hailey pops up on my phone. I blink.
/lol wut/
I respond, my brow creasing in confusion.
/Go to the gas station on 4th street. Listen to me or die./
Alright, she’s freaking me out now. First of all, she’s using correct grammar and punctuation. Second of all, she wants me to go to the gas station in the middle of the night. I look out my window at the new moon, which is already high in the sky. I should be asleep right now, anyways.
She’s pulling some kind of elaborate prank, I think. That’s it. Yet I can’t shake the uneasy feeling that’s set up a permanent stay in my gut.
/Uhhuh and unless I set up garlic around my house the vAmPiReS wILl cOmE and dRiNk mY bLoOd/
Hailey replies quickly.
/Look, I’m not supposed to be telling you this in the first place. I’m risking my life for you, so you better believe me./
/And if I did listen to you? I’d stand in the night at the filthy gas station ‘till my butt freezes off and I go home and get in big trouble./
/Mia, just listen to me. This is your choice. I can explain everything there, but if you aren’t there by midnight you’ll be ripped apart piece by piece by the wolves. Trust me, it hurts. I’ve seen it happen./
She’d seen someone get ripped apart by wolves? Slowly, bit by bit, I begin to believe her. Somewhat.
/Fine. The gas station isn't too far away anyways./
I quickly change out of my pajamas into serviceable day clothes. I slip on my laceless shoes and slowly open and close my bedroom door. My mom and dad are sleeping and I tiptoe past their room, trying not to wake them. I unlock the front door and, shutting it and locking it behind me, step into the night.
The humid night air envelops me as I make my way to the gas station. It’s only a couple blocks away, so the walk isn’t too bad. Hailey’s words keep resounding in my ears though, making the night eerie. /By midnight you’ll be ripped apart piece by piece. Listen to me or die. I’m risking my life for you./
I arrive at the gas station. The only illumination is a flickering light that only manages to cast a dim glow on the black ground. I look around, my eyes flicking back and forth.
“Hailey?” I call out. “Are you there?”
A shadow steps out from behind the gas station, making me jump in surprise. It takes me a second to recognize Hailey’s dull ginger hair and caramel eyes. “You made it,” she sighs in relief.
“Alright, tell me what the heck is going on. Wolves? Midnight? Wanting to meet me here?” I ask her.
“It’s a very long story.” Hailey says, shaking her head.
“Then tell me this long story.” I raise my hands up to the sky. “I came out here in the middle of the night, might as well figure out why I did.”
“It all started a long time ago, when the first werewolf was born. You may know of him. His name was Thomas Jenkins.”
I shivered at the name. Thomas Jenkins had been rumored to be a werewolf hundreds of years ago, when horror stories like that were common and often believed. He killed his victims as a human and ate their remains as a wolf. The man had been killed by a team of hunters, but the tale itself was disturbing enough to send chills down your back. “Where are you going with this?”
“He’s real. And he has descendants. And they’re attacking this town tonight.” Hailey explained.
“But it’s a new moon.”
“The full moon is a stereotype. We’re strongest when there’s no light in the sky to see our dark deeds.”
“Wait-did you just say we?”
“I’m a werewolf too, Mia.” She looks me straight in the eyes. “I was sent here-with my mother and father-to map out this city, find the places with the most people. Warn of any dangers. But then you came and befriended me, Mia, and I began to rethink everything. That’s why I’m saving you.”
I laugh, but it sounds forced. “I-I don’t believe you.”
Hailey lowers her head. Then the strangest-and most disturbing-thing I’ve ever seen happened.
She turned into a wolf right in front of my face.
Fur grew in place of her clothing and her legs shortened and her arms lengthened, making her balance on four legs. Paws replace her hands and feet. Her face elongated and her nose and mouth turned into a muzzle. A tail slowly grew from behind her.
Soon enough I was standing face to face with the biggest-and most ferocious-wolf I’ve ever seen. I step back a few steps as the legend fills my head. Hailey’s eyes become ferocious, and she steps towards me, growling.
Oh no, oh no, oh no- “Nice doggie,” I say in a high-pitched and squeaky voice. “Nice doggie.”
Hailey-or whatever’s in front of me-snaps at my legs. I jump away, but the second time she catches my jeans. I hear them rip and her teeth dig into my skin. I cry out in pain.
Hailey’s eyes lose their wild glint. They seem to become more…human. “Sorry, sorry, sorry…” She says, her normal voice underlaid by a growly tone. “This always happens when I transform. I become a wolf for a second-in body and mind.”
“Ow. That hurt.” I whine, tracing the bite mark with my finger.
“I bit you?” Hailey’s voice is filled with worry. “Oh no oh no oh no…” She paces back and forth, her tail flicking left to right.
“What’s wrong?”
She turns around to me. “Being a werewolf isn’t just hereditary. It’s also shared. By things like bites.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa-what?” I look at the bite mark on my leg. Nothing seems wrong with it.
“It’s almost certain. And you won’t be able to stop it.” Hailey looks up at me.
I feel sick and dizzy. Maybe it’s the transition already starting. I sink down onto the ground, not caring that it's uncomfortable.
Hailey looks up at the sky. The tiny sliver of the moon is high in the sky now. “They’re coming. Quick, let’s get into the gas station.” Hailey morphs back into a human, her fur transforming back into her clothes.
In the gas stations, a worker sleeps on a chair. We ignore her, heading straight for a back shelf. The place is tiny and dirty, and I’m beginning to doubt Hailey’s decision to have me come to the gas station.
“Why here?” I ask Hailey.
“Wolves hate the smell of the gas. It’s the safest place in town.” Hailey replies.
“And you?” I ask.
“I can deal with it.” She replies.
“Hey…Hailey?”
“What?” She snaps. She’s obviously very stressed. I hear faint howls on the wind and I quiver.
“Two questions. Will everyone die? Like, including my parents and little brother? And…have you ever…you know…eaten…someone?”
She sighs. “I can’t answer the first one. It’s a pretty big pack, but this is a pretty big town. Chances are they won’t get eaten, but it’s possible. And…for the second one…I’ll tell you the truth: yes. Yes, I have eaten someone. But I didn’t kill them myself.”
A million questions run through my mind. Who? Why? How? Someone I know? But they’re pushed back as I suddenly feel sick. Like, really sick. Like, I’m gonna throw up in the next 5 seconds sick.
“Hailey, I don’t feel so good-like really-I feel like my stomach’s turning inside out and-” My words are cut off by a burst of pain.
“*, it’s happening already.” Hailey eyes the worker. “We need to get away from humans.”
“Why?” I grunt. Then the answer dawns on me. “Will I-”
Hailey nods. “New werewolves are hungriest-babies and recently transformed ones included. And I don’t think you or the worker wants you to eat her.”
I shake my head quickly.
“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Hailey leads me-quietly-past the worker, who’s sleeping the deepest I’ve ever seen someone sleep in my life.
We race out of the gas station and head behind it, where two trash cans and a recycling bin sit. Regardless that I’m right next to a trash can, I plop down on the ground. I feel worse now, and I can’t stop myself from actually throwing up. Hailey rubs my back, trying to calm me down.
It’s happening. I’m turning into a wolf. The new moon in the sky is the highest it’s been yet, and the howls in the distance are getting louder. Everything is going wrong. Hailey’s a werewolf, I’m turning into one, and everyone’s going to be eaten. “Happy thoughts,” I mutter. “Happy thoughts.”
That’s when I hear a sound to our right. Sniffing noises. I’m surprised I can pick up on them so clearly. Must be the wolf DNA already, I think.
“Is that a-” I begin asking, but Hailey puts a finger to my lips and cuts me off. I take it as a sign that I should shut up.
Hailey slowly and carefully gets up. She turns into a wolf again, and the disturbing process once again hurts my eyes. It shouldn’t be humanly possible.
Once again, there’s a wild look in her eyes for a second. But this time, it doesn’t last as long and she doesn’t bite me again-though she is still terrifying.
I watch her creep slowly around the building, silent as a mouse if the mouse was flying. I’m impressed.
That’s when I hear a growling noise that isn’t Hailey. My heart leaps up into my throat like a kangaroo on a pogo stick. Is Hailey’s pack already here?
“Traitor,” I hear the mysterious wolf rumble. The voice is definitely male. “I can smell the human. Alive. You’re protecting one, aren’t you?”
Hailey growls in return. I’m still going off this conversation by sound. “I was just about to eat it myself.”
Oh no. What if the mystery wolf makes Hailey go through with her promise? I pull my legs close and try not to throw up again. My hand brushes my bare ankles, and I feel…fur?
“Ha. You, the Soft One? More likely you’ve grown a friendship with one in your time here. I knew I should’ve sent in someone a little less gentle. Now, where is she? I’ll take care of her myself.” The mystery wolf’s voice is getting closer now. My breath catches in my throat.
He steps around the corner. He’s even more ferocious than Hailey, his eyes a bright shade of yellow and his sleek fur a dark black. I scoot away.
“Peekaboo.” He says in a menacing tone, stepping towards me. Hailey jumps onto his back, bringing him down.
“DON’T TOUCH HER!” Hailey screeches, clawing mercilessly and the black wolf. He roars in response and throws her off, slamming her onto the ground.
I watch the vicious fight-with plenty of blood-stunned. I’m helpless but to watch as the black wolf slowly wins over Hailey with speed, strength, and experience. Hailey’s backing up now, still viciously fighting but losing stamina fast. She’s covered in blood-the black wolf’s and her own.
“Is this really how you want to die?” The black wolf says, approaching her slowly. He knows he’s won, even though Hailey’s still desperately fighting.
He shoves her onto the ground, and she doesn’t get back up. She looks up at him fearfully as he raises his paw for the final blow.
“STOP!” I screech. Then I, myself, begin to turn into a wolf.
The transition is even more wrong when you’re experiencing it yourself. My arms grow too long, my legs are too short, and my clothes are replaced by fur that feels even weirder. And it all happens relatively slowly, so you get to experience it bit by bit.
The black wolf turns around in shock. “You’re-a werewolf?”
Hailey lets out a laugh that ends in a weak cough. “Newly transformed. And remember: the new ones are always the hungriest.”
That’s the last thing I hear before the wolf takes over.

My first conscious thought is: Blood doesn’t taste very good. Honestly, it’s like a disgusting combination of metal and water that you just wish you could get rid of. Too bad my teeth are covered in it.
/Wait, my teeth are covered in blood?/ The rest of my mind kicks in and realizes something is wrong. I’m not a wolf anymore, and I’m glad to be back in my normal body, but I’m more disturbed by the mangled thing in front of me.
It doesn’t even resemble a wolf anymore, more like a skunk lying on the side of the road after being hit by a car. It’s half fur, half guts. And my teeth are covered in blood.
I threw up for the second time that night.
Hailey’s back to being human, too. She’s staring at me with a mixture of fear, horror, and reverence.
“I did that, didn’t I?” I say, cringing.
“And I had to watch the whole thing.” Hailey looks like she’s going to throw up, too.
I don’t feel too bad-the only time I’d seen him was when he was attacking Hailey and talking about eating me, so it kind of serves him right-but I’m horrified I could even accomplish that, wolf or not.
It looks like Hailey’s already taken care of her wounds, and any I have are minor. It looks like the fight had been pretty one-sided.
“And the town?” I ask, looking out at the street.
“Gone. It was helpless against the wolves.” Hailey sighs.
We sit down together in the parking lot of the gas station, grieving for the town that was lost tonight and reveling in the fact that our lives were spared.

Nov. 6th daily
this one was way easier. and way lazier. that's either a good or bad thing.
puddle, cloth, crown, and dreams, were the words I had to use. provided by @Basic_Potato
lol but this be deep tho
422 words. yes, I know, very disappointing for the amazing kora. but I needed a break after yesterday's daily qwq

The king is on his deathbed. His children and wife gather around him, each one desperate to hold his hand, to speak to him, one last time.
First is John, the oldest. He will inherit the kingdom after the king’s death. Or so he thinks.
“John, my son.” He rasps, his weak hand clasping John’s. “You have proven yourself worthy to be king. Your legacy could have been great.”
“Could?” John asks, confused.
“But you are not meant to inherit the crown. You shall inherit the puddle after rain, and glory in its beauty-or you shall receive no gift at all.” The king speaks cryptically.
“But, father, I-” John protests, but the king has already waved him away.
Next comes the second eldest, Jasper. He’s always lived in his brother’s shadow, and now that the king has deprived his older brother of the crown, he hopes selfishly for it himself.
“Jasper, you’ve always been loyal to the kingdom and have always tried to serve the family. But your heart speaks words that are not worthy of the crown. You shall inherit the cloth sewn by the weaver day and night. Appreciate it, or have no gift.” The king says.
Jasper growls in frustration. He does not argue, though, and steps away.
Next comes the only sister, Jasmine. She looks at her father. She knows she will not inherit the crown-girls cannot carry it. They are only meant to marry off.
“Jasmine, be not dismayed. What effect does the law have on the worthy? You are purest of heart and humble, and meant to inherit the crown. May you rule well.” The king pulls off his own crown and places it on Jasmine’s head. She delicately touches it.
“Really, father?” She asks, her voice becoming high pitched.
The king nods as she steps aside.
Finally, the youngest brother, Andrew steps up. He has no hope for the crown. He has no hope for anything. For what could his father give him, if the crown has already been given away?
“Andrew, my youngest. Have faith, for your hopeful mind and daring desires shall all come to you. I leave you your dreams, the greatest gift of all.” The king says, looking kindly at Andrew.
Andrew looks bewildered and confused at the obscure gift. But before he can ask any questions, the king looks up into the sky that’s blocked by the high ceiling.
“May I be with you all in the afterlife.” The king breathes his final breath.

Nov. 7 Daily that I messed up on because I forgot it had to be a character revisiting their past XD
THIS DOES NOT COUNT FOR THE DAILY I MESSED UP ON IT ALRIGHT
I'm taking a break for a couple of days
706 words
The childhood memory and item I was inspired by were my at 2 years old walking home because I was scared of the 4th of july fireworks (the bombs) and a bag of shells I got from my kindergarten teacher (the portal gems in the bag)
yes, this has sloppy world building and plot
yes, the boy should've had some kind of sci-fi gun
but it's too late so you get this instead
who's the real villain?
TW: explosions, death

I cradle the bag of gems in my hand carefully, watching the destruction of New York.
Bombs cascade down on apartment buildings and businesses from airplanes above. People scream as they try to escape the apocalypse. I wish I could take them with me. But I have a task to accomplish.
I race down the street, dodging debris and frantic people. The portal’s only a few blocks away, but a few blocks seem like miles in New York City during an apocalypse.
A building explodes next to me, and I race away. I barely dodge a sliding car that’s trying to drive out of the city, weaving through the slew of destroyed cars littering the streets. It fails, slamming into another car. A man scrambles out, giving up on the car, and continuing to run through the streets on foot.
I’m close now, one block away-I know the way well. A mother holding a child is crying next to a car. I’m not even sure if the child is alive. The scene tears at my heart. I try to remember why we’re doing this, but I struggle to see the reason for this.
The Band have infested this world. There’s no other option but to destroy it. At least, that was what my father had said. He’d also assigned her the task of setting up the portal and the protective shield so we could get out of here when we were done. In total, we were striking hundreds of cities across every continent and country. Killing hundreds of t housands.
I shake off those thoughts as I continue my run to the portal. Chaos spins around me, but I’m determined. I also don’t have the heart to watch what’s happening around me.
I arrive at the run-down apartment building that houses the portal, gripping the sack tight. I can’t fail now.
I’m about to head into the building when I feel a gun jabbing into the back of my head.
“Stop right there,” the gunman says. I freeze.
“We won’t let your people get away with destroying a planet and simply leaving without a trace. Justice needs to be served.” I realize his voice is actually pretty young-only a few years older than me at most. I still can’t see his face, so I can’t be sure.
“What do you mean, justice?” I ask. “You’re people are the ones destroying world after world just to rebel against the universal government.”
“How do you explain what you’re doing here, then? Our people are just running. We thought we would be safe here, but you come and destroy this place too. A place not included in the interplanetary network. You’re the real villains here.” The boy says, the gun clicking as he cocks it.
I can’t move, or he’ll shoot me. I can’t stay still, or he’ll shoot me. My last resort is to delay him and wait for some kind of out. I need to get the gems to the portal. “Then why don’t your people turn themselves in? If your people aren’t criminals, you have nothing to fear.”
“We can’t. The government will kill us anyway. All of us. Even the children. And you guys won’t stop chasing us down, so we’ll die thanks to you guys too. Every choice we make, we die. So I may as well kill one of you in the process. Even better, I get to kill the leader’s daughter.”
“H-how did you know?” I stammer.
“A girl your age with such an important task is obviously related to someone high in authority. I was just guessing-but now I know the truth. And I’ll let you live one one condition.”
“And what is that?”
“You come with me as a prisoner. We’ll ransom you for freedom.”
“Never.” I growl, wrenching myself away from him and trying to run. But as the words leave my mouth, I rethink them. I think about what this boy had said, about his people being chased to the death. I look around at the destruction of New York. I begin to wonder if we’re on the right side of things. But it’s too late.
Startled by my attempt at escape, he pulls the trigger.
I die.

I made all parts /exactly/ the requirement XD
My painful weekly.
non-fiction qwq

Attempt at poetry (100 words)

Rain fell down from the dreary sky,
Down to where our characters lie,
A mother and daughter
A brother and father
A perfect family of four

Together they all sat ‘round the fire
Free of contention, of hate, of ire
Love filled each gold-wrought soul
Joy filled their hearts ‘til full
The purest family of four

Then a knock came at the door
Brother got up from the floor
Tiptoeing carefully
Opening daringly
The safest family of four

Outside the door stood a girl
Her hair rolled into tight curls
Smiling elatedly
Beaming so happily
A complete family of five

Real-fi I guess (I didn't really get what I was supposed to do when asked to write the same scene in a different genre so I just made it prose) (100 words)

It was a rainy day. The Baker family sat in their living room, each of them doing their own thing. The mother was knitting, the father was writing up papers, the sister was playing with dolls, and the brother was playing with blocks.
A knock came at the door. The brother got up, heading to answer it.
“Careful, we’re not expecting anyone.” The mother called. The brother ignored her.
At the door was an older girl with curly dark brown hair. She waved. “I’m back.”
“Mary!” The brother cried, wrapping her in a bear hug.
Their family was complete again.

Thing on bassoon (100 words)

The bassoon is a beautiful instrument. It is the bass member of the woodwind family and has an impressive range of B♭1 to F5, wider than most woodwind instruments. It has at least 22 keys, which can seem daunting at first, but becomes easier after practice. The bassoon has undergone much evolution, and used to be incredibly difficult to play and very unpopular due to it’s horrible sound. However, over hundreds of years, more keys were added which began to let bassoon be implemented into more symphonies, concertos, and more. While the bassoon is hard, it’s definitely a worthwhile instrument.

Humor
Romance
Mystery
this was fun to write XD (300 words)

“Honey, we’ve been robbed!” Robert cried, looking at the empty space in the fridge where the cake used to be. “I’m sure of it-I haven’t eaten any of it and you said you were on a diet so it must of been a thief.”
Georgia made her way over, looking at the circular mark left by the cake plate. She tried to stop herself from laughing. “Good job, you’ve caught me. I was hungry last night-”
“I’m calling 911, this is a serious crime.” Robert proclaimed, pulling out his cell phone and dialing. Georgia tried to stop him, but 911 had already answered.
“911, what’s your emergency?” The operator asked.
“Officer, there’s been a robbery at 1956 Forest Street, Muldenburg Mississippi. A cake was robbed straight from our fridge, and we need to track down the robber immediately-”
The operator said something Georgia couldn’t make out, and Robert lowered the phone. The operator must have hung up after realizing there was no real emergency, and maybe yelled at Robert in the process.
“We’ll need to figure this out ourselves, then-Georgia, do you remember hearing anything last night? Seeing anything?” Robert paced back and forth, deep in thought.
“ROBERT!” Georgia shouted. He froze. “Stop this nonsense. I ate the cake. I broke my diet. Now calm down.”
“You.” Robert said, growling. “How could you betray me like this? I trusted you!”
“It was a piece of cake.” Georgia said. “Alright, how about this? If I order you delivery, will you calm down?” She pulled out her phone, opening the delivery app and waving it in front of Robert.
“Alright.” Robert said, looking at the ground stubbornly for a few moments. Then his eyes were lured in by the glow of the phone and the delicious pictures of food.
They got cake.

Taken elements: Uncontrollable powers from Wheel of Time and sibling contention(ish) from The Unwanteds (300 words)


The battlefield-if you could call it that-is silent. Death is everywhere, hundreds of men and women torn apart, crushed and mangled. A sight to make a grown man run. But I couldn’t run. I have to face him-my own brother.
He sits on the ground looking into the sky, dazed. Perfectly intact with not a scratch on him.
“George.” I say, looking at him. It’s hard.
He looks at me. “Huh?”
“George.” He hasn’t quite come back yet.
I watch as his eyes clear. I watch as he looks around, clutching his stomach. “Oh. Heh, yeah. Yeah. I did that.” He’s still in shock.
“George, everyone’s dead. Even our soldiers. Everyone.” I said, spreading my arms. “You’ll be hunted for this. People have always been scared of you. Now they’ll hang you.”
George looks at the ground. “Leave me.” He says, digging his hand into the ground and clenching a clump of dirt in his fist. “You’ll just end up dead too, soon enough. Everyone ends up dead.”
I crouch down and hesitantly put my arm around him. “George, we have to leave. Get out of here. They’ll come for you, kill you-”
“Maybe I deserve to die!” He shoves me away, his voice cracking. “Then-then this wouldn’t happen again, and people wouldn’t die and everyone will be happy again.” His eyes start to glow red. His powers are taking over again. I back away nervously.
“G-George, please, calm down-you’re powers, they’re coming back-”
George is breathing hard, his breath coming in ragged gasps. I can see he’s trying to fight it. Sometimes he wins battles like these. Sometimes he loses. The red glow in his eyes flickers.
Then he lets out a mangled scream and the glow becomes brighter. Then the ground starts to shake.
The powers have won.

Quality > Quantiy (600 words)

Quality is more important than quantity during Scratch Writer’s Camp, eventhough word goals and requirements make it seem otherwise. Remember that the purpose of Scratch Writer’s Camp is to help improve one’s writing, not to write the word “a” over and over again. Writing constantly is bad for mental health, too. Also, not caring about quality makes you end up writing rather horribly and lowers other’s opinion of you. Lastly, it stops you from being as creative with your writing due to just trying to put words on paper.
First of all, putting quality over quantity helps you improve your writing. Pushing yourself to the limits of your ability lets you push yourself farther, and you gradually get better. But if you just write words, you’ll stay at the same ability level. A writer must push themself if they are to improve, not simply write. If you focus on taking your time to write more, it often turns out that you’ll feel much prouder of your writing and sure that you’ve improved. In the end, this is the goal of Scratch Writer’s Camp-not word counts. Word requirements are only meant as guidelines to make sure you’re writing /something/. The average person, left to their own devices, would probably barely write anything for dailies or weeklies.
Second, focusing on the quality of your writing helps you feel better about yourself and helps your mental health. It also makes you more motivated to write more, and in turn helps you write more. Scratch Writer’s Camp leaders repeatedly say to focus on your mental health and real life more than Scratch Writer’s Camp-and putting quality over quantity supports that. Writing less but better leaves more time to focus on real life responsibilities and interests. It overall makes writing more enjoyable.
Third, just churning out words can make others think you are a bad writer. A lot of the time, the only time people notice some scratchers is when they make writing for Scratch Writer’s Camp-if you write horribly, people won’t know how good of a writer you can actually be and lower your reputation. While this isn’t that big of a deal-and it may not even matter to some-some people care about what others think about them. And putting quantity over quality won’t help that. More likely, it will make people shrug you off and move on or even make them dislike your writing.
Finally, it makes your writing lose it’s creativity. When focusing on quantity over quality the writing just becomes words on a page. Writing is about putting your emotions into your writing-if you’re just blindly typing words you’re not taking advantage of the full writing experience and it can become more a chore than anything. Writing should be fun and something you enjoy, and you can lose sight of writing’s purpose. It begins to be a pointless hobby, and you can quickly begin to move onto other things. Putting quality over quantity can make writing funner and more interesting.
In conclusion, you should put quality over quantity for multiple reasons. It will make your writing better, help you spend less time writing, help your reputation, and help make writing more enjoyable. It helps you accomplish the purpose of Scratch Writer’s Camp-which is to have fun and to become better at writing. It can help your mental health and help you focus on things outside of Scratch. It makes writing a hobby you can enjoy and motivates you to write more. It is definitely the best way to go through Scratch Writer’s Camp. This is my opinion of the matter.

Informational on the oboe (600 words). Sources and information inside questionable but iT's fInE
The oboe is a wind instrument, more specifically, a woodwind. Oboes can be made out of wood, plastic, or other synthetic materials. It’s most famous relative is the English Horn, or Cor Anglais, which is a larger and alto version of the oboe. The oboe is a double reed instrument, which means the reed is made up of two pieces of wood tied together-unlike the clarinet or saxophone, who’s reeds only have one piece of wood. The soprano oboe is around 65cm long and has a range from B♭3 to G6. The oboe is used to tune symphonies and orchestras with it’s high, piercing, and easily audible sound with it’s A.
The oboe is generally used for classical compositions for symphonies and other ensembles that include woodwinds, but has occasionally been included in other types of music, including jazz, rock, pop, and film music. The oboe is often a solo instrument. The oboe was very popular during the baroque and classical era, but around the romantic era the clarinet took over.
The oboe is a relatively expensive instrument, but it’s reeds are especially expensive. The average oboe reed is 20$ compared to an average clarinet reed, which is only 2$. This is because an oboe reed needs to be made by hand to have any sort of quality-and even after a reed has been made by hand it often needs to be scraped on by the oboist to obtain best quality, depending on how the oboist wants the reed to play.
The oboe has undergone much evolution over time, and now has 45 keys. It used to only have the 6 main holes and 3 other keys, but keys were continually added, helping increase the oboe’s range and pitch. It was originally called the hautbois, but the name soon changed to oboe, the name which it is generally called by today.
The oboe is a relatively unpopular instrument. Most people barely know about it, in comparison to the clarinet, which almost everyone knows of. This paves the way for easy scholarships and a much better chance at first chair in symphonies. However, it does require a certain level of commitment due to the difficulty of a double reed and the required embouchure strength to reach the high notes-and even notes in the lower register. Also, as mentioned previously, beginning oboes are expensive compared to beginning clarinets. Beginning clarinet prices range from $500 to $1100, while beginning oboe prices range from $1,000 to $3,000.
The oboe family has several instruments, the most famous-as mentioned earlier-being the English Horn. However, some other less famous relatives include the Oboe d’Amore, meaning “The Oboe of Love”, which is another alto member of the oboe family, slightly higher than the English Horn yet slightly lower than the oboe. There is also the Heckelphone, which is a bass version of the oboe, and the Musette, which is the piccolo version of the oboe, or high soprano version of the oboe.
The oboe is descended from a medieval instrument called the shawn and an instrument called the reed flute even before that. The first oboe appeared in France in the 17th century and spread throughout Europe.
There used to be a great division around the late 19th to early 20th century between French and German style oboes. However, when a German oboist-Richard Strauss-said that he preferred the French oboe style, also known as the conservatoire oboe. The French oboe won over most of Europe-and the rest of the world-but the German oboe, called the Wiener oboe, is only used in Vienna and its surrounding area.

Possible swc writing contest entry

Squirrel
He would come. He had to.
I sat on the wooden bench, slowly swinging back and forth. The forest of dark pine trees surrounded me and the little grove I was sitting in. The night was peaceful, the moon high in the sky. I breathed in the fresh air that smelled of wind and birds and freedom, things I hadn’t smelled since I was young. My life had gotten out of control since, and now the only things I smelled were smoke and grease and the overwhelming amount of people that populated the big city.
The only reason I was here was to meet him. Maybe for the last time. My true love-at least, that was what I liked to imagine.
A russet squirrel scuttled in front of me, squeaking. It stared up at me with big beady eyes.
“Sorry, I don’t have any food for you.” I said, leaning forward. “You need to go find your own food.”
The squirrel looked at me and let out a squeak that almost seemed…disappointed. As if it understood me. It dashed away, though, back into the deep underbrush. Leaving me alone again.
I look back up at the moon. It was high in the sky, which meant he would be here soon. I shivered from excitement and the crisp night air. He would be here any moment…
He would step out of the brush, his beautiful green eyes looking at me with love and joy. His clothes would be dirty and torn from the trek through the woods, showing how much he had wanted to be here with me. He would race over, sit next to me, and we would talk into the night. Maybe we would even kiss. I could dream, I could hope.
We had been apart for too long-the last time I had seen him was when I’d boarded the flight to New York, waving to him and Sarah-my best friend-as I walked onto the plane. I’d missed him painfully ever since, dying to see him again. So a week before I’d sent him a letter, a request to meet him here, today, now. I hadn’t got a response, but I would wait for him for as long as I could. This was a special place for us, where we’d played as kids. Where we’d talked about how we were going to get married when we grew up, and how we were going to have two kids, and we were going to grow old together. Life had thrown a wrench in our plans, but I wanted him to know I still loved him. That I still wanted to be with him.
That was when he stepped out from the trees. His black hair was messy and his green eyes shone brightly in the night. He wore a t-shirt and jeans with an old jacket, his feet wearing well-worn tennis shoes that had undergone many a season. A smile broke out on my face and I jumped up.
“You’re here!” I exclaimed, racing over and hugging him.
He backed away quickly. “June, I have a confession to make.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked, confused.
He looked at the ground. “June, me and Sarah, well, we’ve sort of started, I mean, I guess, dating?”
My smile fell. “What?”
“You’d been gone for about a month, and Sarah saw I was lonely, so she…well…took me to the movies. I’d never been so happy. So I asked her out for dinner. And then it was just one date after another, and I fell in love, real love…that’s why I came here tonight. To tell you it’s over.” He said, looking at me with pitying eyes.
“Oh. Okay. Alright. Then I guess…it’s over.” I was in shock. I wasn’t mad, at least not yet.
“I’m sorry, June, I’m so sorry, but…you need to find someone else.” He said.
I was silent. I didn’t know what to say. A tear slid down my cheek.
“I-I need to go.” He said, walking away and back into the woods.
I sat back down on the bench. It was over, just like that. My hopes, dreams, love…all over. All gone.
The squirrel appeared from the brush again. I looked at it. This time, it was carrying the biggest nut I’d ever seen, happily squeaking.
“Hey little guy, you found your own food, didn’t you?” I said, looking at the squirrel in it’s elation, wishing I could feel the same way.
I thought back to what I had said to it. You need to go find your own food. That was it. I needed to go find my own food. Well, not my own food, necessarily, but my own love. I couldn’t wait for some idiot to come along and leave me in the next breath. I couldn’t sit there feeling sorry for myself. I had to go find someone who would love and care for me.
I looked back at the squirrel. “Thanks, buddy. You know, for being a squirrel that needs food to live.” I laugh to myself, jumping down from the bench.
The squirrel squeaked as if to say:
“Just doing my job.”

I looked up into the moon with it’s beautiful, pure white glow and took a bite of the pitch-black apple in my hands. It’s sickly sweet taste rolls down my throat, torture and pleasure at the same time. If anyone could see me now, I would be arrested. Maybe executed, given my position-or lack of one. But, thanks to the apple, no one could.
It was such a relief, to be able to be invisible. A relief I desperately craved every day as people stared at me, whispered about me, even insulted me to my face. This was a way I could get away. A way I could be free.
I ate the last bit of the apple and threw the core into the shimmering lake in front of me. I had to hide the tracks, make sure no one found it. The royal guard was exceptionally good at tracking down apple-eaters. If they were to have any suspicion, I would be found in mere days. That was how serious the crime of eating a death apple was.
I stood up, brushing myself off. You had to wonder why they were so determined not to let any death apples be eaten. I had been eating them once a night for a week, and I hadn’t endured any ill effects. In fact, the only thing that happened was I turned temporarily invisible. What was so wrong with that?
I’d been picking them from a tree I’d found deep in the woods, so deep that it may have been in another kingdom. I remember the first time I tried one. I’d tentatively picked one off the branch, and, curiosity having overtaken me, I took a bite. From that point on, I’d been addicted. Snuck out there every night and ate one.
Little did I know tonight would be the last night.
The footsteps came from behind me, over the hill. My heart stopped and I raced behind the cover of a tree. I knew they couldn’t see me-I was invisible. But I had to be careful.
“Where did you say you saw her?” A loud male voice asked.
“Right by the lake, sir.” A much more nervous man’s voice said.
I froze. They were coming for me. Going to arrest me. But then again, they might not even take that time. They might just kill me, get rid of me right away. I think, quivering.
The footsteps come closer. I can now make out four separate sets. Three guards. One witness. All coming to get me.
They step into my line of sight. Each of the guards are wearing dark armor, which makes them seem eerie in the night. The third man with them is wearing rather tattered clothes and his hair is ratty and knotted. It takes me a moment, but I recognize him. He’s a beggar that I’ve seen multiple times on the side of the street, calling out to passersby and pleading for a single coin. I usually ignored him. My family was one step away from being beggars, too. Yesterday I’d felt bad and tossed him a spare coin that I’d been saving. He must have followed me last evening and spotted me eating the apple, and had gone to get the guards today. The ugly, selfish, rat! I’d shown him kindness and now he was getting me killed. I tried not to growl in anger.
The guards looked around the area as I tried not to make a sound. I even tried not to breathe. I couldn’t be caught-couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t-
That was when a guard stepped on my bare foot. I couldn’t stop myself from gasping sharply as his hard, sharp boot dug into my toes.
“Found her!” He cried, grabbing my shoulders. “Help me! She’s invisible!”
The other guards raced over, grabbing my hands. I struggled, trying to get away. Their grips were iron, though.
“Let me go!” I screeched, tears flowing from my eyes. I was going to die. This was the end of the line for me.
I felt something deep inside of me, like a fire. A cold fire that wanted to get out. A ruthless fire that was storming inside of me, powered by my desperation.
A fire that I had no choice but to let out.

my edit!


I look up, up into the moon…I revel in the beautiful white glow, biting into the pitch-black apple in my hands. The sickly sweet taste rolls down my throat, torture, yet also pleasure. If anyone saw me now, I’d be arrested. Maybe even executed, given my position–or lack of one.

It’s such a relief, being invisible. A relief I’ve craved every day, as people stared at, whispered about, and insulted me, and finally achieved.

I bite the final bite, tossing the core into the shimmering blue lake beside me. I have to hide the tracks, make sure no-one finds this. My entire fate could depend on this moment–The royal guard are especially good at tracking apple-eaters. If they were to have the slightest suspicion, I’d be a goner in days. The crime of death apples is serious.

I stand and brush myself off. You had to wonder, why death apples were outlawed. I’ve been eating one a night, and no ill effects have come my way. In fact, a benefit had come my way instead–invisibility.

I’ve been picking them from a tree deep in the woods, woods that are deep enough to possibly be territory of another kingdom.

I remember the very first time…I’d tentatively picked an apple, curiousity overwhelming me as I tasted death apple. Addicted. I snuck out every night then on.

Little do I know…tonight is the last night.

The footsteps come from behind me, over the hill. My heart stops as I race behind the cover of a tree. They can’t see me, I try to tell myself. But I have to be careful.

“Where did you say you saw her?” A loud man’s voice asks.

“Right by the lake, sir,” says a much less confident voice.

I freeze. They’re coming…I’m going to be arrested…Then again, they might not even take that time. They could directly kill me, get me out of the way. I quiver.

The footsteps come closer…I can make out four sets. Three guards. One witness. All coming for me.

They step into my line of sight. Each of the guards are wearing dark armour, giving them the illusion of eerie night spirits. The fourth man, the witness, is wearing tattered clothes and has ratty hair, knotted and tangled.

It takes me a moment, but I recognize him. He’s a beggar I’ve seen…pleading to passerby, calling for just a single coin. I used to ignore him. My family was one step away from being beggars, too.

Yesterday I felt bad and tossed him a spare coin I’d been saving. He must’ve followed me and spotted me eating the apple. Gone to get the guards today. The ugly, selfish rat! Kindness for kill. He bites the hand that feeds him. Anger swells as I resist growling.

The guards glance around. I try to be quiet. Try not to even breathe. I can’t be caught–I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!

That was when a guard stepped on my bare foot. I can’t resist gasping sharply as his hard, sharp boot digs into my toes.

“Found her!” the cry comes, as he grabs my shoulders. “Help me, fools! She’s invisible!”

The other guards race over, grabbing at me as the first guard did. I struggle, but their grips are of iron.

“Let me go!” I screech, knowing it’s useless. Tears flow. I’m going to die. This was the end. Only one thing left.

A fire deep inside me, cold yet burning. Raging. Swelling. Ruthless. A fire powered by my own desperation. It’s going to explode, and with it, I’m going to explode…I can’t help it…

It’s a fire I have no choice but to let take control. To let out.

My SWC writing comp. entry!
Great thanks to @dhritithescratcher for helping me with inspiration, motivation, and giving me a critique!
TW: mention of death/execution
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-Apples of Death-

I looked up into the moon and reveled in it's pure white glow, taking a bite of the pitch-black apple in my hands. It’s sickly sweet taste rolled down my throat, torture and pleasure at the same time. If anyone could see me now, I would be arrested. Maybe executed, given my position-or lack of one. But, thanks to the apple, no one could.
It was such a relief, to be invisible. A relief I’d craved every day as people stared at me, whispered about me, and insulted me-a relief I'd finally achieved.
I finshed off the apple and threw the core into the shimmering lake in front of me. I had to hide the tracks, make sure no one found it. The royal guard was exceptionally good at tracking down apple-eaters. If they became suspicious at all, I would be found within mere days. That was how serious the crime of eating a death apple was.
I stood up, brushing myself off. You had to wonder why they were so determined not to let anyone eat death apples. I'd been eating them once a night for a week, and hadn’t endured any ill effects. In fact, the only thing that happened was I turned temporarily invisible. What was so wrong with that?
I’d been picking them from a tree I’d found deep in the woods, so deep that the the tree may have been in another kingdom. I remember the first time I'd tried one. I’d tentatively picked a shiny black apple off the branch, and, curiosity having overwhelmed me, I'd taken a bite. From that point on, I’d been addicted. I'd snuck out there every night since then ate one.
Little did I know that tonight would be the last night.
The footsteps came from behind me, over the hill. My heart stopped and I raced behind the cover of a tree. They can’t see me, I tried to tell myself. They can't see me.
“Where did you say you saw her?” A loud man’s voice asked.
“Right by the lake, sir,” said a much less confident voice.
I froze. They were coming for me. Coming to arrest me. But then again, they might not even take that time. They might just kill me, get rid of me right away. I think, quivering.
The footsteps came closer. I could now make out four separate sets. Three guards. One witness. All coming to get me.
They stepoed into my line of sight. Each one of the guards was wearing dark armor that gave them the illusion of eerie night spirits. The fourth man with them was wearing rather tattered clothes instead and his hair was ratty and knotted. It took me a moment, but I recognized him. He was a beggar that I’d seen multiple times on the side of the street, calling out to passersby and pleading for coins. I had usually ignored him. My family was one step away from being beggars, too.
Yesterday, however, I'd felt bad and tossed him a spare coin that I’d been saving. He must've followed me after that and spotted me eating the apple. The ugly, selfish, rat! I’d shown him kindness and now he was getting me killed. Anger swelled and I tried to resist growling.
The guards scanned the are. I was as silent as I possibly could be. I tried not to breathe. I couldn’t be caught-couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t-
That was when a guard stepped on my bare foot. I couldn’t stop myself from gasping sharply as his hard, sharp boot dug into my toes.
“Found her!” He cried, grabbing my shoulders. “Help me, you fools! She’s invisible!”
The other guards raced over, securing me. I struggled, trying to get away. Their grips were made of iron, though. I was helpless against them.
“Let me go!” I screeched, tears flowing from my eyes. I was going to die. This was the end of the line for me. I had to get away somehow. Had to.
That was when I felt something deep inside of me, like a fire. A cold fire that wanted to get out. A ruthless fire that stormed inside of me, powered by my desperation. A fire that was overtaking me.
A fire that I had no choice but to let out.

Elfie looked up at the dusty building in front of her. It was covered in cobwebs, the windows were dirty and hard to see through, and it was unimpressive in general. They really want to meet me here? She wondered. Shrugging, she turned the stiff doorknob and opened the creaky door into a dark room.
All of a sudden, the lights turned on. Elfie was overloaded with bright colors and loud sounds.
A large congregation of all her friends stood in front of her, surrounded by balloons, streamers, and confetti galore. Fenn was even blowing a celebratory airhorn.
“Now what is this?” Elfie asked, looking from person to person and smiling.
“Welcome to the ‘Elfie is POG’ club!” Froggy shouted, stepping forward and flourishing phrog arms, a bright smile on phrog face.
“Now why would you go around saying absolute lies?” Elfie joked.
“YOU ARE POG ELFIE DON’T DENY IT!” Dhriti shouted from behind Froggy.
“Or what?” Elfie teased.
“Uh…” Dhriti was left without words for a moment. “JUST—OR ELSE!”
“Yo! Elfie! Come over here!” Kora shouted from the snack table. “Have you seen the food they have here?”
Elfie pushed through the crowd to the snack table, where Kora and Lilac stood, chowing down on the snacks that had been set out.
“Don’t tell me you two are in on this too.” Elfie said, smiling and pouring herself a glass of punch.
“Of course we are, Ms. POG!” Lilac exclaimed.
“This is now our life’s purpose.” Kora said gravely—but in a moment her face brightened again, showing it was a joke. Or was it?
“Is it, now?” Elfie said jokingly.
Just then, a cry came from Froggy.
“WHO’S READY TO HAVE SOME FUN!”

Just a quick heads up – @froggyvibbes' name is Froggy, pronouns are phro/phrog/phrogs/phrogself

shoot I just realised how old my signature is

“Oh, no, no, nooo-” Elfie was interrupted by an insane Lilac, ever so slowly turning up the volume of the music.
“LETS GOOO!”
Froggy and Lilac danced around with each other, Dhriti and Kora making discussion with the pog queen. Fenn and Star were pulling out some moves, barely missing the snacks with Fenn's karate kick.

“Heyy guys!! Look who's oh-so-fashionably late to the party.” Starla gave a big grin.
“AYYY!” Lilac walked over holding a bread platter. Starla glanced at the plate, and looked up to Li.
“Only the finest bread for you, my Starla.”

aight im done

ahhhhhh understood I didn't see phrog pronouns on phrogs pf so I used phrog oldest project which had them listed as she/her aaaaaaaaaaaaaa and I though phrog name was phrog for a bit qwq so sorry I'll fix it immediately!

npnpnp <33

“Oh, my thank you.” Starla chimed, taking a breadstick. “Party timeee!”
Starla joined Froggy and Li in dancing around in a circle, gradually forming into a conga line.