Scratch Writing Camp Writing Sharing Thread (March 2022)

-_Artist0_-

SWC DAILY, CONTINUATION
Her words: I sit on the table, after preparing all the dinner myself, waiting for my dad to come eat it. Life is hard sometimes.
My memory goes back to the time that mom was here with us. Everything was easier. She did a lot for me - helping me study for my tests, explaining things I didn't understand, organising school plays, leaving her job before she was supposed to be home with me… But now she is gone…
I hear footsteps. I better get up from my chair - dad is coming.
“Did you prepare rice with chicken?!” My dad growls. Oh-oh. This is going to be a tough night.
“I… I forgot…” I knew what he was going to do. He got his belt out…
My dad currently drinks. After what happened with my mom, he started to drink to “forget it ever happened”. His objective was quickly fulfilled, but he could not stop after that. He currently drinks one or two glasses of beer per day.
“Ouch!” I scream to myself.
“Now, you're going to bed without eating!” He screams. I was pretty accustomed to this…
I quickly obey him. I went to my room. It is very small. A plegable bed on a corner, a little desk, and some books. From now on, I refuse to call him dad. I'll refer to him as “he” or “him”.
“Him” is now coming upstairs. I quickly assemble the plegable bed, cover myself with the poor blanket and I pretend to be asleep. I hear “him” coming to my room, and I can see him (without him seeing me) peeking at my door.
“Everything in order…” He says very softly.
Then, he goes to his room. In contrast to mine, his room is very big. I'm currently sleeping where the guest room was. My old room is now locked. It was pretty comfortable…
Since mom died, life has been very difficult. Dad blames me because I insisted she to go to that concert. The truth is (she told me this before going) that she was very overwhelmed. Then I told her that she should go to the concert that middle school was holding that night. I also told her that I had a lot of things to study (of course, this was true) but she could tell me everything after.
After a lot of time speaking, I finally convinced her, and she said she was going to the concert to relax a bit.
But she never came back…
Because her car - her car did…
I cannot continue without pouring some tears.
Life has been tough without her, and it still is, though more than three years passed since then.
I’m still wondering why. She was a very good driver, she never did…
We did an autopsy. But it failed. We’ll never know what happened to her or why it happened…
Since then, “he” has been different.
I wonder why “he” changed.
Before this, “he” was very affectionate with me.
I think he also feels mom’s loss…
But actually, he shouldn’t be unburdened about mom’s loss with me.
But once again, actually, I was the one who insisted she to go there.
But once more, actually, it (was) her life. And I was just suggesting. Wasn’t I?
I - Maybe it’s my fault.
But, again, I couldn’t have known that that was going to happen.
But I could have foreseen this was going to happen. Could I?
I always wished I could be the perfect daughter. Or at least, a semi-perfect daughter…
And I was.
At mom’s eyes.
And I’m now an impediment to “his” eyes. My addition I stood up, tears rolling across my already damp face. I wished I knew how to get back at him, and you may think there are so many ways to do that, like a prank, or yelling back at him. But… no. That will lead to more trouble, more suffering, and more to get back at him for. I grabbed a couple of my remaining books, “he” had torn the rest up. I read for as long as I could, scavenging for ideas. My only books were orphan books, like A Series of Unfortunate Events, or the Boxcar Children. It felt tough to formulate ideas with literature like this, but suddenly, my brain finally saved me. “Yes!” I exclaimed. I instantly cupped my hands over my mouth, regretting that I had said that aloud. I grab all my books. ‘What better time to put my plan in action than now.?’ I thought, I slipped open the squeaky window, snatching any belongings I need. All that I take are my seven books, and three necklaces and a notepad. My mom gave me the necklaces and notepad, the notepad is what she wrote my quotes in before she… I crawl down the pipeline out of the window, which is awfully fancy for a room such as mine. (I couldn’t finish more, lol had to go to bed)

mossflower29

Prompt: “Silence is betrayal.”

I wave frantically into the darkness. No response comes from my friend.
“I know you're here, Alex,” I murmur, squinting into the darkness to no avail. Everything remains hidden from my eyes—I'm only human, after all.
The person who brought me here may still be watching, so I have to stay quiet, but I can't help hut sigh in exasperation.
Finally, a footstep hits the floor, somewhere near me. I whip my head around, heart nearly beating out of my chest in surprise.
“Alex?” I dare to whisper.
No response.
I squint even harder, trying my best to separate Alex's tall form from the shadows. Where is he? He has to be down here, he came with me. Unless the person who took me somehow missed him, he's got to be her… Right?
“Lia…” A whisper floats into my ears. Alex.
“ALEX!” I yell, done with all the ‘being quiet’ nonsense.
“Shh!” a hand presses to my mouth, his familiar calloused palm breaking off my cry.
I let out a long breath that I didn't know I was holding. “Why didn't you come sooner? Why didn't you answer me?” I say, voice muffled. I don't care anymore about the noise, about the danger. I only care about him.
“I didn't want to betray my position.”
I look up at him, at the near-invisible curve of his nose, the flash of his golden eyes in the dark. “Alex. Silence is betrayal.”
He has the sense to apologize—not profusely enough, in my opinion—before unsheathing his knife and cutting the ties from my hands.
I stretch my fingers out, they are so relieved to be free.
Leaping from the seat, I do my best to ignore when my back pops in protest. I'd been sitting in that chair for hours, maybe days, of course my body would ache.
We steal through the darkness, Alex's glowing eyes providing the merest semblance of light in the eternal night of the cave.
I stumble along behind him, nearly tripping on the rocks. He manages to stop me before my nose hits the floor and breaks for the second time in one day, then decides to grab my hand and pull me along behind him.
Finally, after what seems like hours of twisting and turning through the tunnels, light.
Even a single beam of it hitting the rocky floor nearly gives me a headache, but Alex pulls me on. Pulls me into the light.

Last edited by mossflower29 (March 8, 2022 01:05:43)

MouseLoverr

Okay, so I chose this for the 3/8 daily to add 400 words. (word count of my addition: 419) Thanks to @-RoseBunni for the start. I really like it and might actually add more. XD

Anyway, here it is: (original part is in italic)

Huge icy raindrops splattered against the windows. The village children sat with their heads pressed against the glass, wide eyes fixed on the procession of soldiers marching through the streets. The heavy rain resounded against the stone streets as the sound of droplets fell into rhythm with the marching of soldiers.
For three days enemy troops had taken over the city of Havensburg.
For three days the children had been trapped inside the schoolhouse.
They didn’t dare to step outside the premises of the schoolhouse, in fear of the consequences that would follow. Now, the children were weak and pale with famine, and the teacher was doing everything she could to send for help.
“I- I want to go home,” one of the children cried out softly.
The teacher wore a concerned expression on her face. “I know, Benjamin. It won’t be long till we can all go home,” she said.
The children gathered around her desk, their solemn faces and trembling lips told a tale of despair and suffering. With nothing but the lunches they had packed days ago and a small stash of emergency supplies, food soon became scarce as the children were forced to ration what they had. That night, the children went to sleep with empty stomachs and cold, shivering bodies.
Long before the arrival of the soldiers, rumors about enemy attacks on the capital city of Havensburg began to form. Yet no one had any proof to justify the assumption. And now the enemies were marching through the village streets, on their way to overthrow the capitol building.
Another night passed by, with soldiers still flooding the streets. By morning the rain had dwindled to a light drizzle. As the children sat around the small fireplace, clinging to the only warmth they had, the teacher peered out the window. She let out a small gasp.
The soldiers had, overnight, transformed the village square into an army headquarters. A large tent was set up in the center of the square, next to the cracked fountain that hardly ever worked. It was filled with water covered by a thin sheet of ice now, and, had the soldiers not been there, the poorer townspeople would have broken the ice and scooped bucketfuls of water for their families. Now it would go to waste. A small girl walked up beside the teacher, took in the horrifying scene, and wailed,
“How are we going to get food? I don’t want to die here!”
“None of us do, Maya. None of us do.” Closing the window, the teacher turned towards the hopeless faces of the children.
“We’re going to escape the school tonight. We can’t stay here. There is another town not far from here, called Crowith. I have a friend there, and we’ll be safe.”
A boy tentatively raised his shaking hand.
“Yes, Charlie?”
“What if Crowith is taken over by soldiers, too? What then?”
“I don’t know.”
The answer was barely a whisper, but all the children heard it.
“We escape tonight when the clock strikes one. Be ready.”
The children gathered their things, put their shoes on, got their jackets ready, a cold sense of dread settling over the group.

BONG. The clock chimed one, and the door of the school opened. Silent figures slipped into the clear, cloudless night, under the full moon. The teacher led them past the tents in single file, every child praying that the soldiers wouldn't notice. They made it out of the town square, and all relaxed. They had made it. walking slower, they bunched up into a group. They were almost to the forest when everything went wrong. The soldiers had guards patrolling the night shift around the borders of the town. Spotting the group, one of them gave a shout, and four other men ran up and trained their guns on the children.
“RUN!” The teacher shouted, pushing the children towards the forest. They ran, and the men opened fire. Only three reached the forest. Three terrified faces peered out of the trees, watching as the soldiers left. As soon as they left, the teacher stood up and creped towards the trees.
“H-how did you survive?”
“Shh. Not here. We have to get as far from this place as possible.”
“But–”
“Later! We have got to get as far away as possible from here, before the soldiers come back.”

Last edited by MouseLoverr (March 8, 2022 19:52:10)

StarKitten_Writes

Unfinished story for daily 3-8-22
The window slides open with a slight creak. I wince as it stops too short. “Hold on.” I whisper, and below me, Dira nods. Her mouth is set in a firm line, and the wind whips her short black hair across her face. Seelie and Kero are barely visible, only shadows below her. I turn back to the window, pushing it open just enough to climb through silently. It creaks again, causing my entire body to tense, listening for footsteps. All my thoughts are desperation. We can’t get caught; we don’t have time; we can’t afford to screw up, not again. I jump down to the floor of the hall we entered and begin hauling up the rope.
Dira climbs over the windowsill in absolute silence. Her thin frame blocks the moonlight only barely, and her eyes gleam in the dark as she scans the hall. She wastes no time; as soon as she sees the coast is clear, she is helping me pull up the rope. Seelie comes next, then Kero, and as soon as they are all in, Dira pushes the window closed definitively. Kero wraps up the rope and throws it over his shoulder. With luck, we’ll get out without it.
“Gev!” Kero’s voice is urgent. I turn back. “What happens if we’re caught?”
A fair question. This is the farthest we’ve gotten yet, and if they find us now- no. Can’t think of that. “We can’t.” I say in answer. Kero nods grimly. He understands. They all do. There is no going back this time.
Dira is the first to move, walking silently down the long corridor. She opens the door on the left, and it swings open, silently this time. “Wait here.” she says, then swiftly disappears through the doorway.
Kero moves after her, but Seelie grabs his wrist. “Wait.” she says, demanding and firm. He stays back, but reluctantly. We wait, and the silence stretches on and on. After what seems like ages, Dira reappears. “It’s harder than we’ve prepared for.” she says, confirming my worst fear. “You’d better come see for yourselves.”
Kero follows immediately. He likes her so much, and so obviously, that it’s almost funny at times; but his care and caution aren’t unwarranted. Seelie and I come after him, entering the dark room.
When I step through the door, I stand frozen in the doorway. The thing we’ve come for is right there, the only light in the otherwise complete darkness. It’s pale blue light ripples over Dira and Kero as they carefully move towards it, and Seelie brushes past me to get closer.
“Stop.” Dira throws out her arm, keeping Kero back. She looks back at me. “Gev, you’d better get over here. You’re probably the only one who can understand this.”
I move forwards, placing each step carefully. When I reach where she is standing, she points to the ground, and I see carvings illuminated in the soft glow.
“Protection runes.” I say. Dira’s face glows with pride. “I knew it.” she says softly. I smile, despite the situation. I’ve been teaching her about rune magic, and she’s been a fast learner. But I frown again as I study the endless chain looping around the gem.
The gem. The source of all of our problems.
As I look at it, it’s hard to tell how something so beautiful can be so deadly. It’s simply cut, triangular top and bottom, three flat, long sides. It’s blue glow is the only light in the room, and if not for Dira’s careful examination, we might have never seen the protection around it.
Everyone is watching me carefully, and the look on my face immediately crushes their hope. I pull my hand away from the runes as I stand up.
“Simple, yet very effective.” I say quietly. “Anyone who passes within the circle will be unable to move until the spell is lifted, therefore allowing the king to find and punish whoever dares to steal it.”
“So what do we do about it?” Dira says, frowning. I sigh. It frustrates me, how direct she is, but if I say anything, she’ll get even more irritated.
“We can’t do anything about it, unless we disable the spell.” I say. “But I don’t think that Seelie can do that.”
Seelie shakes her head. She’s a witch, a born magic user. Theoretically, all magic users are controlled by the king, but most live in hiding. And for good reason, because a magic user in the court clearly did this spell at the king’s command.
“I can’t undo this,” she says with a frown, her voice trembling slightly. She always sounds quiet and shaky, like she’s about to cry. “I could try, but I could overuse my magic, and that would kill me. At the very least, my hair would be too noticeable.”
She’s right; when she uses her magic, horizontal ribbons of bright blue appear in her blonde hair. If she tried to do this, most of her hair would turn, and would stay that way for a month, and she would run a high risk of being arrested.
Suddenly, Kero throws his arm out, straight over the line. I gasp, but nothing happens.
“You idiot!” Dira and I both hiss at the same time, and Seelie just stares.
“It’s not active,” he says. Obviously. He pulls his hand away, then steps over the line. We all stare at him.
“How?!” Dira’s voice echoes, and she lowers it. “Why did you do that you stupid, stupid, idiot!?”

beeblush

Old unfinished story! It's 169 words lol (TW: death)
Grasping onto a box of pictures, I block out the memories that blanket me. A picture of Mom is placed at the top of the pictures. Her blue eyes glow in the flash of the camera. Her big smile warming my lonely heart. Dad always points out that I got her long, pointy nose. Wiping away tears, I flip over the picture.
The memories hurt too much. The pain penetrating through my soul, like the kn!fe used to end Mom's life.
Dad stands behind me, rubbing my shoulder and sobbing. Dad never used to cry, until Mom died. I pull away from his shaky hand, grabbing the tape, and boxing up the cardboard bin.
Dawn pulls on my shirt, attempting to get my attention. I push her away, ignoring her annoying gestures.
“Gale! Stop pushing me!” Dawn's toddler voice cracks, “It's not funny…” She begins crying. As Dad picks her up, he uses a tissue to wipe his tears. I fall back onto the couch, exhausted from the work.
- - - - - - - -
Ngl, I had to hold back tears :>

Last edited by beeblush (March 8, 2022 01:21:04)

seasiide

3/8, 449 words: Share one of your unfinished stories! It doesn't have to be overly complete, nor well-fleshed out, but try to pick one that at least has a basic concept established. Now, pick someone else's unfinished story and write 400 words continuing it! For your 400 words, you will receive 700 points, and 200 bonus points if you share your writing!

TW: brief mentions of suic!de, weapons

ORIGINAL:

“A—Amaris k!lled her.” My jaw drops open. I’m at a loss for words and thought.

Somehow, my mind flashes back to when we first met. Our families were close, and they forced us to be friends. At first we didn’t really know what to do; but our friendship became true.

I don’t understand why Corbin would do such a thing. The mayor’s voice brings me back to reality.

“How?” The mayor questions.

“She told her sister to go away. And she did. Forever.” I try to search through Corbin’s eyes for any signs, but I can’t find anything about him that I thought I knew. He was just denying that I had anything to do with Aria, but now he’s saying the opposite. The mayor turns to me. A horrific smile is spreading on his face.

“Come here, girl.” I take a step back. This must be a nightmare, I have to get out.

“Aria chose to leave. And so will I.” Everyone exchanges looks. They think I’m going to accept my dxath. But that’s not what I’m doing.

Turning on my heel, I start towards the hill. I hear stunned silence as if their brains are still processing what happened.

Suddenly, they call out, “Get her!”

MINE:

The only thing that I can hear are my ears popping and labored breaths. I don’t dare glance behind me for fear of what I might find. I only use my ears, praying that no one would catch up to me. But, then again, the whole town versus only myself isn’t the greatest odds. But, by now I just have to stay positive.
I almost laugh at my optimism. Positive?! Like having my best friend since age seven betraying me for something punishable by death could ever be forgiven. My heart still aches from the shocking betrayal, the words still ringing in my head.
Amaris killed her…
I swallow my heartbreak and unjust anger and try to focus on my task. Get away from your toxic town and friendships, then mourn, I try to tell myself.
But a part of me thinks that Corbin was telling the truth. I mean, she did die right after I told her to go away…
A tear drips down my face.
Stop thinking about that, I tell myself. Think of something else more… positive?
You have other things to think about. Remember that crowd of people
Oh, right.
I snap back into reality just in time to notice that the constant footsteps behind me have finally faded away. I stop for the first time in a while —hours? Only a few minutes?— and take in my surroundings.
Nothing is recognizable, and for the first time in my life, I feel lonely.
I mean, sure, my sister’s death definitely made me feel a little bit forlorn, but now, surrounded by an overgrowth of unrecognizable trees and no one in sight for miles, I felt ultimately alone.
And now I was lost. Just great.
Defeated, I begin to walk through the forest, peeking through the gaps between the trees and looking for anything familiar.
Suddenly, I spot a nearby town and almost cry out in relief; A place to stay was much more than I had anticipated, especially in the middle of nowhere and late at night.
At this point, I could barely see my own feet in front of me, so I sprinted towards the town, the sunlight slowly fading away and concealing the town within the thicket of trees.
I ignore my fatigue, pain, and feeling of loss as I run, shouting for help. No one comes out to help, big surprise, and I’m too tired to knock on someone’s door, so I just collapse onto the barren dirt floor, finally taking in a searing pain in my ankle —was that a kn!fe?
I have no choice but to let my eyes close, the faint sounds of footsteps approaching lulling me to sleep.

Last edited by seasiide (March 28, 2022 19:01:31)

-PeachiiStxr-

A Girl With Wings
please don't read unless I've sent it to you <3

!TW: might contain some triggers, Scratch safe however!

You lie on the floor of the closet, your wrists and ankles aching from the tight ropes around them. You’re horribly uncomfortable in the hogtied position you’re in, and you’re beginning to sweat due to the stuffiness of the cramped closet. You feel your dry lips cracking underneath your gag and long for some water to relive your parched throat. You know your captor will visit to feed you soon. You don’t know who he is. All you know is when you escaped from the Genetic Experimentation Facility, you flew with your weak wings until you couldn’t stand the aching any longer and half fell half landed into a backyard. You had collapsed onto the ground. You remember that after a while a light flashed onto you briefly. You had tried to get up, to escape, but someone had grabbed you and forced a cloth over your mouth and nose. Your vision had faded and when you woke up, you were here, in this closet. You knew you were incredibly unlucky to land in the backyard of one of the G.F.E. ‘s employee’s home, but you couldn’t change anything about it now. You didn't want to go back to the facility. You hated it there, you were created there. It had been horrible, they would run tests on you and study you like you were some sort of animal. Because that’s what you were to them- another of their mindless creations. You don’t know how you escaped- but you did , and now you were caught and going to be put back in that place. You knew you were created as a sort of human-bird hybrid, but the only bird features you knew you had were the huge white feathery wings you loved, which were roughly tied together right now. You flinch as the door suddenly creaks open, light shining into the dark room, and the man holding you captive walks in.

“Lunchtime, you little beauty,” he says, kneeling down and brushing your hair off your face as you squirm uncomfortably.

He pulls out the socks stuffed in your mouth after untying the rough cloth around your lower-face which were keeping them inside. You know better not to yell or shout. He uncaps a relatively small glass bottle and pours some of the thick substance inside into a tablespoon. The tablespoon in his right hand, he firmly lifts your head up and forces it into your mouth. You feel the substance spill into your mouth, and the man takes the spoon out. He put the tablespoon down and clamped a hand over your mouth and squeezed your nose, making you squirm but then forcing you to swallow the substance. The process is repeated seven more times. Finally, he lets go of you and you fall to the ground, stomach full of the disgusting matter.

“Good girl,” the man says, brushing his hands.

He leaned over you and you gag as he stuffs the socks into your mouth again, then tying the rough cloth tightly.

“They’re picking you up today, it’s time for you little lovely to go home.”

Your skin feels like ice as you hear the words, dread flooding into you as he shuts the door and you’re plunged into darkness.

. . .

The door opens unexpectedly about an hour after the last visit. But this time, your captor is joined by another man, who you instinctively try to cringe away from.

“There she is,” your captor says, grabbing your tied wings roughly and jerking them up, slightly lifting your thin body off the ground

The unknown man stares at your pathetic self, body hogtied and sprawled on the ground, face covered in dirty smudges, hair full of dust and surrounded by a few molted feathers. He turns around and walks away.

“Drug her then pop her in the trunk.”

Your captor shrugs, dropping you to the ground again, grabbing a small vial and cloth off a shelf on the wall. He pours a little of the vial onto the cloth, then bent down and clamped it over your mouth and nose. You try to struggle, but can’t stop yourself breathing in the sweet-smelling aroma coming from the cloth. A strange sensation overtakes your body, your limbs beginning to feel like jelly and your vision blurring. The man drags you up, draping you over his shoulder as you’re helplessly carried outside and towards a dark silver car. The man opens the truck and drops you in. You fall limply inside, groggily staring up at the man. He ruffles your head, closing the trunk.

“Nightly night kid,” he says, shutting the trunk as you pass out.

. . .

You wake and find yourself strapped to a cold metal cart, pushed by someone wearing a surgeon mask and rubber gloves. Your mind is still foggy from the drug, limbs weak and your vision slightly blurred. The cart you’re on is pushed through double doors, entering a surgical room. You’re unstrapped from the cold cart and dragged onto a dentist-like chair, where you’re strapped on by your neck, arms, wrists, chest, legs and ankles. You’re surrounded by doctors, surgeons, and scientists, bustling around, reading clipboards or setting devices of surgical instruments up. You cringe away at the sight of them, beginning to feel nauseous. Suddenly a doctor places a mask over your mouth and nose, gas hissing out and entering your lungs. Your head spins, your vision blurs and you pass out as the dentist chair begins reclining backward and people start closing in on your body.

. . .

When you gain consciousness you find that you’re still strapped on the dentist chair, though, now you are stripped of your top and bottom clothes, only your undergarments remaining. You feel horribly exposed as you feel rubbery hands touching, stroking and pressing your bare body. You feel your ankles and legs being unstrapped, and someone grabs your ankles, spreading your legs apart from each other. You cringe and try to struggle against the grip, but you’re still weak and it’s in a futile attempt. You cringe again as someone pokes around with cotton buds, then glances up at the person holding her legs and mentions something about dissecting the area, and possible breeding. Like you were an animal…

(w.i.p, unfinished)

Luna-Lovegood-LOL

unfinished short story #1 (something i wrote in like august maybe? i forget xDD) ::

I heard the final words and…

No, scratch that. I did nothing. What really happened is that everyone else went crazy. The entire school erupted into screams. Kids dug their phones out from their bags to call their parents and text their friends. Teachers did nothing to stop it, doing the same things themselves.

And throughout this chaos, what was I doing? I slipped out of my classroom and walked through the halls that were also filled with screaming humans. I walked out of the school without a problem. It was a nice spring day outside, not too cold, not too hot, a light breeze making the trees sway softly. I walked across the school field and sat down.

5 minutes.

I stretched out on the grass and enjoyed the last 5 of 8 minutes this planet had left.
And as those 5 minutes finished, the last words in the emergency announcement that had blared over the PA system flashed in my mind.

“The Sun has exploded."

unfinished story #2 (thing i wrote for word wars last session) ::

As the war raged on, the sinking sun cast it's golden light on a small, lonely cottage. Out in the distance, soldiers fight bloody battles to the death, knocking down brothers and friends and enemies alike.

But one soldier chooses to seperate from the rest. He sneaks away, turning into the thicket of green leaves that make up the deep forest nearby. As he follows the cobbled stone, he arrives at the wooden cottage with a sign.

Pulling off his blood-stained armor with a grunt, the soldier calls, “Narik, I'm home!”

Another man, coppery skinned with dark brown curls and shaggy blue clothes makes his way out of the cottage, his eyes widening at the sight of the soldier. “Akan!” Narik calls, waving wildly at his boyfriend with a bright grin.

unfinished story #3 (hp fanfic intro thing my friend and i wrote) ::

Avada Kedavra.

Imperio.

Crucio.

Four words every witch, wizard and wix knows.

Three spells that will send you down a road you can't return from.

Two curses that will spare your life- barely.

One that will skip the damage and send you to the other side.

None that will leave you as you were before.

Curses like these separate your life into a before and an after.

There's no way around it.

They're called Unforgivables for a reason.

unfinished story #4 (cabin wars thing lol) ::

Your feet slap against the tiled floor, click-clacking as you run. The lights flicker erratically- dim to bright, bright to gone.

You can feel the sweat trickling down your skin- it’s dripping down your face, your neck, your back. You reach the end of the hallway, jabbing the elevator button repeatedly. You look at your reflection in the window: terrified, panicked, heaving.

A deafening crash from faraway shatters in your ears. In a desperate attempt, you rattle the handles of the window- but it’s no use. The electronic lock is firmly placed in.

The elevator pings calmly, unlike your battering heart. As the doors slide open, you practically dive in- smashing the close buttons with your sweaty fingers. As the doors finally slide shut, you finally let out a breath of relief.

You make your way over to the back wall of the descending elevator, pressing your back against the cool, metal wall. You take a few shaky breaths, absorbing the few minutes of silence. You’ll find a way out of here. Somehow.

But in what seems like an instant, the peace is all over. The elevator doors chime again, and your anxiety increases ten-fold.

All the monsters invade the vast corridor- bulky, slimy creatures with dangly arms and grotesque appendages.

ijsdfnijgodnd i have so many more stories but tHeY'Re AlL sO bAD :'D (i mean so are these but you know worse </33)

Last edited by Luna-Lovegood-LOL (March 8, 2022 01:33:44)

pitau

Luna-Lovegood-LOL wrote:
unfinished story #4 (cabin wars thing lol) ::

ooh this one seems fun

here's one of mineee from a couple years ago (ignore the really annoying main character skjhfgkjsdhfg i was a really annoying kid back then)

I hate my life.
You couldn’t see it just by looking at me, though.
Hi. I’m Cassandra Kiaria. I’m 12, and I’m writing a novel about my life. So you could call this an autobiography, though I’d rather not. I mean, even though Cassandra Kiaria’s Stupid Life sounds quite nice, my life isn’t quite grand enough to talk like that.
Now, the question: Why do I hate my life? I mean, other people would just love to have my life, I think. Like, I have nice parents. I’m moderately smart. I’m moderately popular, as well. I get good grades, too.
But I still hate my life.
You know why? Well, I’ll tell you why.
No one believes me. Ever.
Three years ago, my annoying older brother kicked me. No reason. He just did, cause you know how siblings are.
Anyway, he kicked me, right? And it was hard, too. Imagine an anvil being dropped on your leg. From the Empire State Building. It hurt. A lot. So I did the obvious thing. I kicked him back. And guess what he did?
He blabbed. He told my mom and dad — who, needless to say, were very unhappy. They yelled at me. And I’m just like, what the heck, Anthony?
I try to explain to my parents — but, like I said, didn’t work. They seemed to want to blame me! So because of stupid Anthony, I ended with being grounded for two weeks. Two weeks of endless, constant chores, no TV or computer, and no free time whatsoever. It bloody sucks.
God, I hate Anthony! I hate my parents for not believing me, and I hate my life.
Oh, here’s another example!

Peach_Drawing

swc weekly march 3-10
total words: 2570
points: 4000

part one: poetry
types: haiku, acrostic, tongue twister, etheree, diamante, and monorhyme
words: 315

the wings of a bird
feathery and colorful
gliding through the sky

nature's first color is green
a color that reflects life
the color of leaves and grass
under the blue sky
rolling plains and
endless-looking forests

Anteaters eat ants, adding additional ants as “anteater-eaten” ants as anteaters also eat additional ants as all or almost all anteaters eat ants as additional ants are added as “anteater-eaten” by additional anteaters.

Look
And watch
The last day
The world’s doom
The last days alive
Intense heat, blinding light
Flames, boiling water and steam
Incinerated earthen land
Enveloped by the sun and consumed
Another planet gone now, now the next
All that happens has no impact anymore
Except for causing a minor change to the Earth

Sun
Warm, bright
Bring, heat up, brighten
Star, day, rock, night
Shine, see, change
Cool, white
Moon

Write a monorhyme
And you will earn a dime
If you do it in the time
And have words that rhyme
When I get that dime
I’ll have no need to rhyme
And I can go buy a lime
Or I could get some thyme
Or just go and climb
Maybe go and stop some crime
I could even buy some slime
And end this monorhyme
Because I’m out of thyme
And so I need to get my dime
So I can buy more thyme
I don’t have enough time
Why write a monorhyme
When you can play with slime
I’ll get some slime
Or maybe some thyme
First I should get my dime
And then decide to buy a lime
Or some slime or some thyme
Before it’s dinnertime
So after I can buy some slime
Or some thyme or a lime
After it’s dinnertime
Then I can spend my dime
Here, for you a lime
A thank you for the free dime
Thank you for wasting your time
By reading my monorhyme

part two: persuasive essay
topic: why you should join swc
words: 502

Scratch Writing Camp (also known as SWC) is a triannual writing camp on Scratch where you are sorted into a cabin and write words to earn points by completing challenges known as dailies, which you have twenty-four hours to complete, and weeklies, which you have one hundred and sixty-eight hours to finish. There are also other ways to earn points, like writing words and placing in the writing contest. It sounds super fun, but are there any other reasons to join?

The answer is “of course there are”! Joining SWC can help you become more motivated in writing. When you join, you set a word goal for yourself and have to write words to get to that goal. The competitive spirit of the cabins makes you want to contribute words and points to the cabin you are in, and you get rewards for the amount of words you write. When you complete a daily or weekly, you earn points for your cabin, but you also earn an in-cabin currency. (For example, you can get stones if you are in the Fantasy cabin for many different reasons- completing a daily or weekly, writing a thousand words, etc.) There are other reasons why you should join SWC, too, not just the boost in productivity. If you join SWC, it will also help you step out of and expand your comfort zone. Remember the dailies and weeklies I mentioned? The dailies and weeklies are designed to help you become a better writer with more skills and knowledge than just what you will learn in school, and you are motivated to do the dailies and weeklies by the rewards you will get if you complete them. A third reason you should join SWC is that there are lots of Scratchers that participate in SWC, so over the course of the month that you are in SWC you will get to meet a lot of new people and have the chance to make some more friends. While the cabin wars system of siblings, allies, neutrals, and enemies may discourage meeting people within cabins other than your sibling cabins, the main cabin dailies that encourage partnering up with other people often result in at least meeting people who are not in the cabins that you interact the most with. The word wars (where SWC participants compete to write more words in a set amount of time) also help with this, as you are not allowed to war your cabin mates.

There are lots of different reasons that will convince you that you should join SWC- the competitive spirit of SWC will boost your productivity, leading to more writing and gaining new skills, and you can make some new friends along the way. Even if you do not have time to join one session or miss the sign ups for one, there are still three sessions of SWC a year- one in March, one in July, and one in November, which gives you plenty of opportunities to join SWC.

part three: scriptwriting
words: 906
story adapted: The Last Dragon
TW: houses and libraries bvrn down (nobody is harmed on-page, though it is implied that some people d!e), cvrsed books and cvrsed dragons (this is the cause of the f!res), disintegrating dragons that are implied to be the last of dragonkind (possibly because of being cvrsed), and people not being rescued. i think that's all, but please lmk if you think i should add anything.

“And the dragon flew off into the sunset in the opposite direction of the river, abandoning the poor people of the village far from the river. As the fire burned down the town where they lived, the dragon began to turn to ash as well. Eventually, its scattered ashes were separated by the wind, and the survivors of the fire could only see a swirling cloud of ashes that vanished as the wind continued to blow,” Samantha read. “That’s the end of the book. Any questions?” she asked her younger sisters.
“What happened to the dragon? Why did it turn to ash?” Lilly, the youngest, asked.
“It didn't help the people in the village,” Charlotte said. “That’s the only explanation.”
“Well, that’s one,” Samantha said. “But the other version of the story that Aunt Crystal bought says that the dragon was cursed by ignoring the situation in the village.”
“Who cursed it?” Lilly asked.
“It was the ghost of the guy who wasn’t rescued by the dragon,” Charlotte said. “Right?”
“Aunt Crystal said that the author didn’t say.” Samantha said. “But the interesting thing is the author’s house burned down on the twenty-first of April.”
“That was when the last chapter happened!” Lilly exclaimed.
“Probably a coincidence,” Charlotte muttered.
“Soon after that, everyone who bought a copy of the book had their place of living burn down on the twenty-first of April,” Samantha said. “I’m not one to believe in curses in real life,” she sighed, “But it's hard to deny the facts as coincidences.”
“Did you know?” Charlotte asked. “Tomorrow’s the twenty-first of April.”
Samantha’s eyes widened, but she quickly schooled her face. “We haven’t gone out in a while,” she said. “Maybe we should take a walk tomorrow.”
Charlotte wasn’t fooled, but she agreed. She didn’t want to get caught in the flames if their house burned down. Not like their parents.
The next day, Samantha took Charlotte and Lilly out to the countryside. They biked around for a while, then sat under a large oak tree and ate sandwiches for lunch. After that, they headed back into the city to the library to return their copy of the book Samantha had read to them. When they walked by, Lilly noticed a poster.
“Look! The poster says today is The Last Dragon day. Do all of the books in the library have days?”
Behind Lilly, Samantha and Charlotte shared a concerned look. Samantha asked Charlotte to take Lilly to the children’s section of the library and made sure their most valuable possessions were with them at the moment before going over to Charlotte and Lilly. They hung out at the library until sunset.
As the closing announcement played on the speakers of the library, she headed over to where Charlotte was sitting.
“Can I borrow your phone?” Samantha asked.
“Why?” Charlotte asked in return instead of giving an answer.
“You know why,” Samantha responded, and Charlotte sighed and handed her phone to Samantha. Samantha quickly checked to see if any buildings had burned down- two hundred and four, with the least singed object consistently a copy of The Last Dragon. None of them matched the address that was their home, and Samantha sighed in relief, glad that they had returned the book.
“You’re being superstitious again,” Charlotte told her. “There’s no way that the book is causing the fires. It just happened to be in the right place at the same time.”
“In all two hundred and four?” Samantha asked. “We’re lucky none of them were ours.”
“So?” Charlotte retorted. “That doesn’t mean that the book is cursed. The copies could have just gotten really lucky, or the owners might have put them in the place with the least risk of catching fire because they were books.”
“Alright, fine,” Samantha sighed. “Let’s head home.”
As they walked home, Samantha turned back and saw the library begin to burn down. Later, on the news, Samantha went to borrow Charlotte’s phone. That was when they found out that The Last Dragon was the only book that survived the flames.

INT. LARGE HOUSE - AFTERNOON
SAMANTHA is leaning against the side of a bed in a bedroom, reading from a thick book to CHARLOTTE and LILLY, who are sitting in front of her, backs to the door. On SAMANTHA’s left, on the wall touching the head of the bed, is a large window. Sunlight streams through the window, illuminating them.

SAMANTHA
And the dragon flew off into the sunset in the opposite direction of the river, abandoning the poor people of the village far from the river. As the fire burned down the tower where they lived, the dragon began to turn to ash as well. Eventually, its scattered ashes were separated by the wind, and the survivors of the fire could only see a swirling cloud of ashes that vanished as the wind continued to blow.

SAMANTHA closes the book.

SAMANTHA
That’s the end of the book. Any questions?

LILLY
What happened to the dragon? Why did it turn to ash?

CHARLOTTE
(Arms folded, eyes shut. Isn’t like someone who cares much.)
It didn’t help the people in the village. That’s the only explanation.

SAMANTHA
Well, that’s one.

She shrugs, eyes closed with a slight tilt up at the corners of her mouth.

SAMANTHA (CONT’D)
But the other version of the story that Aunt Crystal bought says the dragon was cursed by ignoring the situation in the village.

LILY leans in, clearly interested by this version of the story.

LILY
Who cursed it?

CHARLOTTE
It was the ghost of the guy who the dragon didn’t rescue.

She pauses, only slightly hesitating.

CHARLOTTE
Right?

SAMANTHA tilts her head up at the ceiling, then shrugs again and tilts her head back down.

SAMANTHA
Aunt Crystal said that the author didn’t say. But the interesting part is, the author’s house burned down on the twenty-first of April.

LILY leans back, surprised.

LILY
That was when the last chapter happened!

CHARLOTTE sighs.

CHARLOTTE
Probably a coincidence.

SAMANTHA
Soon after, everyone who bought a copy of the book had their place of living burn down on the twenty-first of April. I’m not one to believe in curses but

She sighs.
SAMANTHA (CONT’D)
It’s hard to deny the facts as coincidences.

CHARLOTTE looks troubled at this.

CHARLOTTE
Did you know? Tomorrow is the twenty-first of April.

SAMANTHA’s eyes widen for a moment.

SAMANTHA
We haven’t gone outside in a while. Let’s take a walk tomorrow, and we can go to the library and return our copy of The Last Dragon so we don’t get fined for being late. Sounds good?

CUT TO:
EXT. LIBRARY. AFTERNOON.
SAMANTHA, CHARLOTTE, and LILLY lock up their bikes outside the library. LILLY looks up and sees a paper flier advertising something.

LILLY
Look! The flier says today is The Last Dragon day! Do all of the books in the library have days?

SAMANTHA and CHARLOTTE exchange a concerned look over LILLY’s head.

SAMANTHA
Lilly, there are thousands of books in the library and only three hundred and sixty-five days. It would be really hard to make a day for every book in the library.

They continue walking towards the library (walking in place as the INT. LIBRARY backdrop moves towards them.)

LILLY
They could alternate days, and then every book could have a day!

CHARLOTTE
Well, you can’t choose what book a day is, but you can choose what book you want to bring home today.

LILY and CHARLOTTE walk off to the Children’s section. SAMANTHA smiles at them and returns The Last Dragon to the library, then walks over to LILLY and CHARLOTTE. SAMANTHA beckons CHARLOTTE aside.

SAMANTHA
Can I borrow your phone?
CHARLOTTE
Why-
SAMANTHA
You know why.

CHARLOTTE hands SAMANTHA her phone.

SAMANTHA
Hey, Charlotte, look. Two hundred and four buildings burned down… And the news says the least-singed object in all two hundred and four buildings has always been the copy of The Last Dragon.

She sighs in relief.

SAMANTHA (CONT’D)
Thank goodness we returned the book to the library…

CHARLOTTE crosses her arms.

CHARLOTTE
You’re being superstitious again. There’s no way the book is causing the fires. It just happened to be at the right place at the right time.
SAMANTHA
In all two hundred and four buildings? We were lucky that none of them were ours.

CHARLOTTE
So? That doesn’t mean that the book is cursed. The copies could have just gotten really lucky, or the owners might have put them in the place with the least risk of catching fire because they were books.

SAMANTHA
Alright, fine. Let’s head home.

They walk over to LILLY, who holds up a book.

LILLY
I’ve decided! Let’s check out this one! Or, wait, no-
She holds up another book.

LILLY (CONT’D)
Let’s check out these books!

CUT TO:
EXT. LIBRARY. SUNSET.
SAMANTHA, LILLY, and CHARLOTTE walk away from the library. LILLY is holding both books. As they walk, SAMANTHA turns back and looks towards the library just in time to see it burst into flame.

SAMANTHA
Hey, Charlotte… Look.
CHARLOTTE
What-
She turns to look and stops, mouth agape. Still staring at the burning building, she dials 9-1-1.

CUT TO:
INT. LARGE HOUSE. NIGHT.
SAMANTHA, LILLY, and CHARLOTTE sit around the television watching a news broadcast.

REPORTER
The one thing that somehow miraculously survived the blaze in the Towname library was a copy of The Last Dragon, keeping with the pattern we have seen before with the other blazes today.

FADE TO BLACK.

part four: non-fiction
genres: how to, persuasive
topics: how to join SWC, why you should complete dailies and weeklies
words: 413 and 434 words respectively
If you are reading this, you have most likely already joined SWC or know about it and do not require an explanation on how SWC works, but here is my explanation and tutorial on how to join SWC. SWC is also known as Scratch Writing Camp, and is an online writing camp on scratch (hence the name). SWC has many different writing cabins that you are sorted into. These writing cabins are themed around their genre, but you do not have to write in that genre if you join. There are challenges known as dailies and weeklies that you can complete every day or every week to earn points and/or write words. For example, this is part of a weekly. There are also cabin wars and word wars, but I do not know every single detail of both so let’s just skip them for now. Onwards to the tutorial or how-to part of the introduction!
1st, you have to decide which session you are joining- March, July, or November.
2nd, wait for the signups to come out on @Bellevue91’s profile.
3rd, when the signups come out, fill in the form.
3.2 (aka subsection): figuring out your preferences! Despite what it says, you can submit cabins instead of leaders for the form. If you don’t know any of the cabin leaders, this is a great alternative. In order to figure out your preferences, just check out the cabin names or themes and answer the question with the cabins that sound like they have themes that will be interesting for you.
4th, wait for the first day of your session in UTC and head to the main cabin.
4.2 (aka subsection): where’s the main cabin? Do not worry, all of the cabins have a link to the main cabin. On your first day, you’ll get a notification telling you about the cabin you were sorted into. Or just go to the signup project, which should be in the studio that serves as the main cabin.
4.4 (aka subsection two): do not forget to read the rules. If you have not read them already, go find the rules and read more. @pitau has also made a helpful frequently asked questions project that can help you out.
Congratulations! If you followed this guide, you are now a camper in SWC. You can now complete dailies and weeklies and contribute words and points to the cabin you were sorted into. Have a good session!

Most people should know that weeklies and dailies are worth lots of points and have a set time limit, but is there really any reason why SWC campers should do them? Sure, they may earn lots of points, but writing words will also earn you points and you do not have to follow prompts to write other words. Why should you bother completing a challenge for a number of points that can be acquired by ways other than completing that challenge?

There are many reasons why you should spend your time doing dailies or weeklies if you can. One of those is that writing one word will only be worth one point in the end, but doing dailies or weeklies are basically like getting a discount on points. For example, the weekly that I am writing this (hopefully) persuasive essay for is worth four thousand points, and I only have to write two thousand and three hundred words instead of four thousand like I would have to if I were not writing for a weekly. Dailies are worth around two hundred more points than the amount of words that you have to write- for example, if you have to write four hundred words for the daily, you will get six hundred points. Completing dailies and weeklies will earn you more points than just writing words that do not have anything to do with the dailies or weeklies, and can help your cabin pull ahead. Plus, the daily and weekly prompts can help you think of something to write about if you are feeling writer’s block, the deadline and point system encourages you to be more productive when you write, and the variety ensures that you will expand your comfort zone at least a little bit if you do complete them. If you are doing a partner activity, you will also be able to meet some of your fellow campers that are not in your cabin or sibling cabins. Those reasons aside, even if you are not able to finish before the deadline, you can still add the words you wrote to your total word count and still have some extra points.

All in all, at least trying to write for weeklies and dailies is a good decision to make. You will get bonus points for fewer words, you will suffer less from writer’s block, you will expand your comfort zone by making an attempt to write about different topics, and even if you do not finish before the daily or weekly changes you can still add the words you wrote to your word count.

jamient

old writing for the daily (bc this was shared on a previous acc but I need someplace to store this)

It was a dark and stormy night—however cliché that might be, I was fairly certain that it was true. Or maybe… let me try that again.
The sky was dark, but it was hard to tell if that was because of the quickly falling night or the storm clouds that had plagued the area all day. Yes, that was marginally better.
I hadn’t had many customers lately, which was fine by me—buying a bookshop was more of an excuse to sit around and read rather than make money. If I was really broke, I could just take a bit of money out of my family’s coffers—god knows they could afford it.
The shop didn’t technically have a closing time either, but again—not many customers, so it didn’t matter. So I just sat in my favorite vintage armchair, enjoying the white wood and the ivory blank I had wrapped over me. The wind rattled the windows, and rain pelted the shop, but I couldn’t care less. This place was old-looking, but it was also cozy.
I jumped up as the door banged open, groaning and cracking as a man—no, a boy, about my age—entered. His dark hair was matted from the torrential downpour, and he was dripping water all over the store. Sluicing the water off his high brow, I finally caught sight of his face.
It wasn’t one I recognized, but the sharp cheekbones and delicate bone structure were distinctive enough that I had the strange sense that I’d seen him before. A hectic flush colored his waxen cheeks, and he looked almost out of breath. A dark overcoat hid most of his figure, including the black bag he was holding.
“Hello,” I said warily, determined to be pleasant to this stranger. “Who are you?”
“I need you to take this, darling,” He said, shoving the bag in my face. I instinctively recoiled.
“Is this something illegal? I deal in knowledge, not arms,” I said warily, crossing my arms in a physical refusal to take whatever he was offering me.
He shook his head impatiently. “We don’t have time for this. You oppose the Clan of Light, right?”
I tried not to let my fear show. Shoving back the memories that surged up at my parent’s—at my own—clan name, I shook my head. “You should be a poet though. That rhymed.’
“I don’t have time for jokes, unless they’re alluding to how pretty I am. Which is unlikely, considering I’ve spent the last half hour running through the rain to this god-forsaken village in the middle of nowhere. I’m too sober for this. I was told you oppose the Clan of Light.”
I felt a vague uncurling of anger and fear in my stomach. Who had told this boy that I knew about the Clans? Who had told him who I was? It had been two year since I’d heard whisperings of the Clans. I’d ran as far away as I could, getting away from those petty squabbles and power grabs. I had no interest in being part of yet another coup.
I took pains to be generous and polite with customers, but this was another matter. Even if he didn’t already know my name, he knew enough that the specifics wouldn’t make a difference—not when it came to my family hunting me down.
If word got out that there was an angel that opposed the Clan of Light hiding out in a bookstore, they’d know immedately that Lux—that I—was here. “What’s in that bag, and why are you hiding it here?” I snapped.
A flicker of recognition flashed in his eyes, and he ignored the question entirely, much to my annoyance. “Lucifer D’Matin,” He purred, leaning against the wall. His hair had begun to dry and curl, turning into blue-black crow feathers gracing his forehead. “So it’s true. You just left.”
“I prefer Lux,” I said coldly.
He shrugged with disinterest. ”Fair enough. Who names their child Lucifer anyways? That’s rather dramatic.”
I didn’t deign to answer. Trying to uphold my dignity, I demanded, “Who are you, and what do you want?”
He shrugged again, the motion lazy and arrogant. “Well, now that I know your name, it’s only fair that you know mine. I’m Revel, but my friends call me Rev.”
I was not a friend. “Revel,” I drew out the name, studying the syllables on my tongue.
“Yes?”
“Nothing. What’s in the bag?” I demanded again. He huffed with annoyance, running another finger through his hair.
“Can’t you just take it? They’re chasing me…” The confidence in his eyes faltered. As he stepped closer, brandishing the bag, I could see that the tones I initially thought were a dark black were actually dark blue, threaded with the color of a cloudness night. They reminded me of the roiling depths of the sea incarnate, a blue so deep that it might pull you in for eternity.
“Chasing you?” A note of panic edged my voice as I registered his words. “My family is chasing you?”
“I lost them before I came here.” He didn’t seem keen to share anymore information as the sarcastic edge to his voice ground down, turning into a bitter undertone.
The window groaned as the wind pounded against the glass, reminding us both of the raging tempest outside. I froze, shoving him backwards. He stumbled, not at all prepared.
“You need to leave,” I snapped, making a move to open the door. “I’m staying here for a reason—”
“That reason is that you’re hiding! Please, just take the bag—”
“I’m not hiding! I made a choice—”
“Stop running away! You’re the only one who can fix this mess—or at least help fix it.”
“I gave that life up. I’m not fighting anyone.” My voice had gone dead and flat.
His dark eyes fixed on mine. “Exactly. You gave up. And now we’ve been looking for you, all this time, because you’re the only one who can use the Lightsword—”
“Don’t even finish that sentence. Now get out of my shop, or else I will blind you and then blast you to pieces.”
“No,” He said, crossing his arms, his chiseled jawline set. “Just take the sword.”
I dragged in a sharp intake of breath as I finally realized what was in the bag. “You stole the Lightsword,” I breathed.
“I just delivered it,” He drawled, some of his old confidence back. “My friends stole it, then handed it off to some party guy who’d never be suspected of anything remotely non-self-serving.”
I snorted. “You’re still a selfish idiot.”
“Actually, I’m making an exception, my dear Lucifer.”
“Lux.”
“I decided that I like Lucifer better. Plus, you seem set to call me Revel, so that makes us even,” He said, playing with his hair again. It was distracting.
“Go dump the sword in a river or something. I have no interested in staging another coup.”
He sighed dramatically. “I didn’t want to have to do this. But desperate times call for desperate measures. You’ll thank me later.”
I backed away, hands out in a defensive stance. “What are you—”
A moment too late, I say his hand flicker up, smoothly pulling a dart gun out from inside his black coat. He was going to knock me out. I cursed loudly and tried to summon my light, but the trigger was already pulled.
I felt a strange pinching sensation before I was dragged into oblivion, sleep’s cool hands sweeping me off to the realm of dreams.

i_like_kotlc

daily 3/8/22
unfinished story - sorry it's not the greatest XD
warning: d3ath (ish)

I wander cautiously through the lush forest filled with trees. I push aside the dense foliage, hoping to find a clearing in this seemingly never-ending rainforest. Unfortunately, I see only more trees, vines and leaves. “Will this trap ever end?” I yell into the nothingness, but I hear only the echo of my own words bouncing back to me. Suddenly, there was a loud sound. I jump in terror, frightened half to d3ath. I wonder what on Earth it could possibly be! My mind begins to prepare for the worst, even though it could just be something natural, like an acorn…

Last edited by i_like_kotlc (March 8, 2022 02:26:33)

SophIIsa

weekly #1! (for contemporary)

DONE! (finally)

Part One: Poetry

For poetry, I chose an Acrostic, Haiku, Lyrical, Free Verse, and Limerick for my types of poems.

Poem 1: “Sophia” (acrostic)

Sophia is my name
Of course so many others have the same name
Particularly students in my class
Hardly am I ever at the front of the line, or at the front of a list
I am always at the back because of my last name
And so yes I am below others, but I can rise to the top, but it may not be so sudden

Poem 2: “Test” (haiku)

You get that feeling
When you see your finished test
Waiting for good grades

Poem 3: “Greetings” (lyrical)

I walk into the door
Staring in blank space
Don't really know what to say
I call myself shy
And maybe I'm right
Can't ask for nothing more

So afraid
Every day
To talk to a person

Fly away
Run away
Only the work I turn in

At school I never know what I can do
I rhyme all the songs I can pour out of my mind
Friends are the best thing for you
For me, I just need a person to talk to
Just want to say hi

(Oh my gosh I actually made a song out of this)

Poem 4: “Anonymous Painting”(free verse)

A painting hangs on the wall
Untouched
Telling us it's fragile
That's it's precious

Made for a certain person
Left for that person
But the person's name is not written
Anonymous

The painting's maker is unknown
There really wasn't any backstory to the art
Almost everything is unknown
Anonymous

Only the art itself can be read out
Looks like a window
Outside the window is the sky
Children playing
Flowers blossoming
And birds flying

Hopefully one day
The name of the painting will found out
Many things can be figured out from the name
But there was no name yet
No names
Anonymous

Poem 5: “Blanket” (limerick)

My blanket was as soft as the clouds
Its fluffiness kinda made me proud
This blanket was the one
Don't want anything else
If you felt my blanket you'd be wowed

total words for poems: 305/300 (this only counts the poems, not the extra things I wrote)

Part Two: Essay

Essay topic: It is important to go to school every day.

Many kids do not like going to school because it's mainly the same routine every day and school can get boring. There may be one class a student likes going to and another class they really dislike, either because of strict teachers or just a really boring class. However, it is important to go to school everyday, even if you have to go through tedious and repetitive process. This is because students who miss school find it harder to make and keep friends, have low self-esteem, have gaps in their learning.

Students who miss school begin to struggle and achieve less. The NI Department of Education gives some key reasons why it’s important for children to attend school: to learn, to have fun, to make new friends, to experience new things in life, to develop awareness of other cultures, religion, ethnicity and gender differences, to gain qualifications, to develop new skills, to build confidence and self-esteem, to have the best possible start in life. By missing school, students are furthermore not experiencing and gaining these important things. Also, while students are absent, friendship groups are formed within school and children can feel left out when they return. According to whitehall-i.walsall.sch.uk, attendance is related to achievement: The better the attendance, the better the achievement! That means that if you go to school everyday, you won't be missing lessons so much. Students that miss lessons may have gaps in their learning because some lessons aren't repeated. And if you aren't at school the day the lesson is taught, you will probably have to review it by yourself or with someone else later. So you don't get the full experience of learning that certain thing. Whitehall-i.walsall.sch.uk wrote, If a child misses only one day each week, by the end of the school year they will have missed 39 days of school, which is the same as missing 8 weeks worth of lessons! If they did this for two years they will have missed the equivalent of nearly half a year of school! Looking ahead, 90% of young people with absence rates below 85% fail to achieve five or more good grades of GCSE and around one third achieve no GCSEs at all. Further more, poor examination results limit young people’s options and poor attendance suggests to colleges and employers that these students are unreliable.

In conclusion, you can see how it is important to not miss school unless it's for important occasions. Students who miss school find it harder to make and keep friends, have low self-esteem, have gaps in their learning. So it is best to go to school even if you don't want to, because there will be benefits in the future. Besides, getschooled.com wrote, Go ahead and admit it, school can be fun. Learning new things is fun. Exploring new ideas is fun. Succeeding in your classes is fun. Excelling in your extracurricular activities is fun. Even eating school lunch with your friends is fun. We know not all schools are created equal and for some of you, the buildings and equipment are less than awesome. But your quest for knowledge goes beyond what happens in the classroom. You're learning from your teachers, your classmates, and the entire school staff. So school can be fun too!

total words for essay: 546/500 (this only counts the essay, not the essay topic, I copied everything in preview into the word counter)

Part Three: Script Writing

This is the story I'm using, chapter 4 of the book I'm working on, Oceanic Mystery!

Luna’s bedroom was at a different location than the others. After a long time of wandering around the house, because I had stopped at a random place to see the paintings on the walls, she finally led me to a white door. It was peculiar since all the other doors were brown. And she had a brown door last time I came to visit.
The colors of Luna’s room were a mix of pink and purple. I wondered if she painted over the original wall surfaces, because her room used to be yellow and green. But since her house changed a lot, especially with bedrooms, as I had looked around the house before, maybe she just switched rooms.
I was getting a bit annoyed. First, I had thought that Luna would tell me why and how she was alive the moment she saw me at the beach. But I knew Luna wasn’t that type of person. It definitely made sense that she’d say, “I’ll explain it to you later.” or “It’s complicated.”
But then I thought the adults would explain to me when I entered the room that looked like an office, with the long glass table, with them knowing how confused I was. Surprisingly, no one told me anything, and either Mr. Idyllic or Mr. Greynore had requested for me to leave! Without a word to him, I was dragged out of the room by Luna and now here I was, in another room, with Luna sitting on her bed, looking out the window.
“Ahem,” I said loudly.
Luna scoffed, turning her head towards me. She stared at me with two deep, blue eyes. She had a look on her face that reminded me of her father who had looked at me similarly like that before.
“So, Luna, what did you bring me here for?” I asked, now that I had gotten her attention.
She replied, “You heard him. Mr. Idyllic. He told me to bring you to my room, so that he can supposedly discuss some serious issues with my parents and Mr. Greynore.”
So that was the man who had spoken before, Mr. Idyllic. “Ugh, so that’s the reason why I’m here? I’m so confused right now. When are you going to explain to me what's going on? And- how you’re- how you’re alive?”
I was angry now, not confused. No one was telling me anything. The stone-faced expression of Mr. Flair and Luna’s face, Mr. Idyllic dismissing us even though answering my questions were obviously serious matters; the only person that made emotions look like they existed was probably Mrs. Flair.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” Luna said, “That’s the truth.”
“Well then,” I replied, “Well then- why didn’t your parents, or Mr. Idyllic, or Mr. Greynore- why didn’t they say anything about it? They’ll probably have a more scientific explanation than you.”
“They don’t know either,” she replied, obviously not aroused by my anger, “Stop asking these questions and maybe try to figure it out yourself.”
What kind of advice was that? She was the one that apparently “died”. If she survived she could have at least given me some details of her experience: if she was in a hospital, what she saw when she woke up the next day, or what her parents had said to her. If it was just a “miracle”, then she could’ve just said that. Better than “I don't know how to explain it.”
Luna and the adults were hiding something. I just knew it. Luna, who used to be an open-hearted friend who always told me what was going on in her life, was no longer the Luna I knew. Something had happened.
Luna returned to looking out the window. I stood up from the ground, walked forward, and I looked too.
There wasn’t anything else I saw besides more houses, trees, a kid playing on the ground and laughing, a small cafe that sold hot chocolate every winter, the beach, and the ocean.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.
Luna replied, “The ocean.”
“But why?”
Luna sighed. Her face finally softened a bit, but it tightened again after a few seconds.
I walked back to where I was sitting and sat down on the floor.
“Is it because- you know-” I said, signaling to the tragic event that had happened a few months ago: her supposed death.
“Yeah.” She replied, quietly, still staring at the ocean.
We stayed like that for a few minutes, silent, with me looking at the ground and her looking at the ocean.
After some time, Luna clapped her hands together once and sat up straight. “Well, do you want to go outside?”
I was taken aback. Luna’s expression changed, from a stiff face to a quite relaxed face. Was she herself after all, just experiencing some hardships? Was I misinterpreting feelings? Was she only stone-faced because she wasn’t used to seeing me again?
Feelings of hope began to fill me. “Sure!”
I scrambled up from the ground, while Luna rose from the bed.
And we walked out of the doorway, together.

AND here's the script! (I added some parts, like action and another character, since it couldn't reach the 700 world limit)

VANESSA walks into LUNA'S room. She observes it, noticing how its colors were a mix of pink and purple.
VANESSA sits down on the floor. LUNA is looking out the window, not paying any attention to VANESSA.

VANESSA
(annoyed) Ahem.

LUNA
(scoffs, turning her head towards VANESSA)

VANESSA
So, Luna, what did you bring me here for?

LUNA
You heard him. Mr. Idyllic. He told me to bring you to my room, so that he can supposedly discuss some serious issues with my parents and Mr. Greynore.

VANESSA
Ugh, so that's the reason why I'm here? I'm so confused right now. When are you going to explain to me what's going on? And- how you're- how you're alive?

LUNA
I don't know how to explain it. That's the truth.

VANESSA
(angry and confused) Well then- well then why didn't your parents, or Mr. Idyllic, or Mr. Greynore- why didn't they say anything about it? They'll probably have a more scientific explanation than you.

LUNA
They don't know either. Stop asking these questions and maybe try to figure it out yourself.

VANESSA
VANESSA thinks this answer is stupid.

What kind of advice is that? I need a better explanation. I know I shouldn't be digging into your business, but I just need to know! You could have at least given me some details of your experience, like if you were in a hospital, what you saw when you woke up the next day, or whatever. If it was just a miracle, then you can just say that. Better than what you just said!

LUNA
LUNA doesn't reply, obviously not aroused by VANESSA'S anger.

VANESSA

Huh. You're usually for talkative with me. You've… changed. And, it's only been a few hours since I saw you by the beach. Is this just a really long dream? It can't be. Everything seems so real.

LUNA
It isn't a dream.

VANESSA

That is exactly what a person in a dream says!

VANESSA looks out the window.

What are you looking at?

LUNA
The ocean.

VANESSA
But why?

LUNA
LUNA sighs.

Her face softens but then tightens again after a few seconds.

VANESSA
VANESSA walks back to where she was sitting and sat down again on the floor.

Is it because- you know-

LUNA
(quietly) Yeah.

VANESSA
(silence) VANESSA looks at the ground.

LUNA
(silence) LUNA continues to look out at the ocean.

LUNA
(claps hands together and sits up straight) Well, do you want to go outside?

VANESSA
(surprised by her sudden action) Uh, yeah, sure!

VANESSA scrambles up from the ground.

LUNA
LUNA gets up from her bed.

Hey, uh, Vanessa, you'll know the secret soon.

VANESSA
Wait what? What secret?

LUNA
The secret you want all of us to tell you about.

VANESSA
(dazed) Huh? Oh, right, that.

LUNA
(about to walk away)

VANESSA
Wait! Luna!

LUNA
(turns around) What?

VANESSA
Can you, um, tell me something?

LUNA
If it's about me being alive, then not yet.

VANESSA
No, no, not that.

LUNA
Oh, then what is it?

VANESSA
Do you have any siblings?

LUNA
(shocked) Wha- why do you ask that question?

VANESSA
Just wanted to know.

LUNA
Yeah… yes I do. I have a sister.

VANESSA
I haven't seen her around.

LUNA
(quietly) Yeah, well, that's what it's about.

VANESSA
Hm? Did you say something?

LUNA
Oh, no. Nothing.

VANESSA
(suspicious) Okay then…

LUNA walks out of the bedroom door, and VANESSA follows. They are approached suddenly by a man, MR. IDYLLIC.

MR. IDYLLIC
Oh, hello again, girls.

LUNA
Hi, Mr. Idyllic.

VANESSA
Hi…

MR. IDYLLIC
(narrowing his eyes) Where are you two going? I thought I told you both to stay in the bedroom.

LUNA
We're just going outside for some fresh air. (knowing MR. IDYLLIC wouldn't come) Want to come?

MR. IDYLLIC
No, no, you both can go along. I have some serious things to sort out in the office.

VANESSA
The office?

MR. IDYLLIC
Yes, Vanessa, there are three offices in this house.

VANESSA
(surprised) Three?

MR. IDYLLIC
Yes, I thought you knew.

VANESSA
(not really liking MR. IDYLLIC) I actually didn't, I haven't seen that much of Luna's house, even before she- well-

MR. IDYLLIC
Well what, Vanessa?

LUNA
(pulling VANESSA by the arm) Alright, let's go now, Vanessa, let's not bother with Mr. Idyllic's business! Come on!

VANESSA
Hey! Ow! That hurts!

LUNA drags VANESSA across the hallway. Stage lights dim and everything goes almost completely black.

total words for script: 741/700 (this only counts the script, not all the extra stuff I wrote)

Part Four: Non-Fiction

1st piece: “How To Improve Your Study Habits” (how-to/tutorial)

Improving your study habits is very important, as it can help you finish work in school and help maintain good grades. There are many ways to help improve your study habits! First of all, you must find a good studying spot. This is important because you need to be in an environment with little to no distractions, a place that will keep you focused on your assignments. The library has always been a reliable place to get some real academic work done, and if you're at your house, you can dedicate a room or some space just for studying, away from any distractions. Second, avoid social media and stay away from your phone or a device that can cause distractions. The best thing you can do is either put your phone on silent, turn off the alerts and flip it over so that you can’t even see them, or just turn the thing off! If it helps, place the phone out of sight so that you’re not even tempted to check your messages. Third, take some breaks. Remember to blink when working on a computer screen to save your sight. Give your eyes a rest by gazing into the horizon, preferably out of a window with natural light. And exercise your eyes, too! Keep your head in a neutral position and with just your eyeballs, look at the ceiling or a tree and try to focus. Go from corner to corner, focusing up, then do the same for the floor. Roll your eyes.
Your hands also need a break, so learn to use the mouse with your other hand, put the keyboard in the most comfortable position, and take a moment to stretch your wrists and fingers. Fourth, join or create a study group. You don't have to do this, but finding students who are struggling to understand, like you, can be comforting. However, joining or creating a study group isn’t just because misery loves company, it’s about teamwork. Guaranteed someone in your study group can help you through a certain assignment you’re struggling with and you’ll be able to do the same. Lastly, understand your best learning style. There are many different styles of learning, for example: Visual learners who learn best when pictures, images, and spatial understanding is used. Auditory learners who prefer using music, sounds or both. Kinesthetic learners actually use a more physical style of learning through using the body, sense of touch and hands. Logical learners need to use reasoning, logic, and systems. Verbal learners will prefer using words in writing and speech. Social learners will thrive in learning with other people or in groups. And Solitary learners are able to learn best when alone. All in all, improving your study habits is important and remember to always do your best when studying!

(468 words)

2nd piece: “Failed Concert” (memoir)

Our teacher raised his baton. It was time to play.
I wished I hadn't failed so utterly. I wished I was in tune. But yet, I wasn't.
5 years of cello practice. Months of practicing this piece. And a failed concert. How wonderful is that!
I was sitting at the very left of the entire orchestra, which consisted of only 10 kids, including me. My mom always told me that the best players always sat at the very front, in the middle. Guess what? I was at the very left of everyone. It didn't really matter, although I was pretty much the best player in the entire orchestra. I had more experience than everyone. 5, almost 6, years.
And a failed concert.
I blamed myself, because I didn't tune at the beginning of the concert, before I started. I shouldn't have just sat there, waiting. I didn't have a tuner. I didn't have my computer or a phone. Just me and my cello. But I forgot to tune.
My A string was out of tune, all right. It sounded like a creepy melancholy note for a Halloween song. And I'm pretty sure the rest sounded like that too. Especially my A and D string.
When we started playing, it sounded fine, because we were plucking, so no one could really hear the difference. At the middle of the song though, the wind sort of hated me and blew my music sheets from my stand and to the floor. I could memorize the music, but it was embarrassing.
When we started playing the second piece, though, which was our last piece, chaos happened. Me and the other cellist were completely out of tune. The entire piece was loud, but I tried to play as soft as I could, to not make the entire thing sound awfully out of tune. I hoped the audience never heard anything out of ordinary.
We finished the first piece, which was called A Russian Winter, and we finished the second, Honor and Glory. Both were very easy, but sadly, horribly played. The moment we finished, that second, I just reviewed over all that had just happened. Just me, playing the cello, with others thinking, “Oh, she must have just started. Oh, maybe the entire orchestra is new to things. Oh, that was terrible, the choir is better than them.”
When I had been playing cello for 5 years, and I was just out of tune!
So there I was, sitting there, sad. I knew what was going to happen.
In my mind I pictured disapproval from the teacher, embarrassment from myself, and small clapping from the audience, for they were just trying to be nice.
And a failed concert.

(453 words)

total words for non-fiction pieces: 921/800 (this only counts the writing pieces)

(total words for all 4 sections: 305 poetry + 546 essay + 741 script + 921 non-fiction = 2513/2300)

phew! lol <3

Last edited by SophIIsa (March 8, 2022 04:15:18)

Jason_Clay

I’m going to post my unfinished story down here.

To see my usual SWC writing, go here.
I don’t howl at the moon. I simply howl up.
Let me explain.

I am a realist. That means that while some people say that their cup is half-full, and some people say their cup is half-empty, I say that it contains precisely one-point-seven-seven-eight liters of water.

I am also a Wolf, which means that I must be either a pessimist or an optimist. That is what my father says. He is a pessimist.

“And pessimists are smarter than optimists,” he likes to say. He likes to say a lot of things, some about the wonder of pessimism, some about the horror of optimism, and some about things totally different, like how smart my little sister is. That is a high compliment coming from him, because she is an optimist.

Her name is Addie. She has very silver fur that is silver everywhere except for where it isn’t, like in her ears and her stomach and all along her back, which has white speckles. She wears thick glasses which make her look smart, and a brain to match.

My mother is dead. She died giving birth to me and Addie. That is what made my father a pessimist. I don’t miss her; that wouldn’t be realistic. That would be romantic, and everybody knows that romantics are banished swiftly and without mercy. Realists are not. They are just looked down upon.

We live in the woods. That is where our ancestors lived, the governor said, so that is where we will stay.

Realistically, that is dumb. Realistically, you should move to a place with soil rich enough to plant food in. Realistically you wouldn’t simply be a carnivore because you cannot grow food.

Our last two governors have been optimists. They have both been horrible. An optimistic governor thinks all ideas are good ideas, and thus she makes a lot of rather contradictory decisions.

The governor before the two optimists was a pessimist. He thought all ideas were bad ideas, and thus made no decisions at all. He was horrible.

I suppose I am ranting and rambling. I need to get on my story. The new governor will probably cut all this out. All she wanted was my story.

Well, here you go, Ms. Governor. Happy Birthday.

♯
NOTE: DELETE ABOVE HERE.

BY OFFICIAL DECREE OF THE DEPARTMENT OF CENSORSHIP.
♯
It was a rather cold day. I was wearing a jacket, and I was walking to pick up Addie from The Academy of T.H.O.H.L.D.A.R.D. Most people called it the Tall Dard. Nobody calls it anything anymore, except for ███████ Only the smartest children got in. That was not me. I was realistic, thus I was dumb

i_like_kotlc

word war with @Shadowssong - 72 words

The girl groped around fearfully, searching for a handhold on the sheer rock face, but she couldn't find one. Suddenly, her hand seemed to catch on a loose stone, and she relaxed for a moment in relief, since her handhold seemed to be steady, until her palms began to sweat. She felt herself sliding slowly down the cliff, and screamed in terror, searching for something, anything, she could grab to save herself.

TheHawaiiGirl2

Weekly #1~

Part 1 (320 words):

Poem 1: Haiku

Look at the rainbow
Glimmering seven colors
In the bright blue sky

Poem 2: Ballad

The empty sketchbook in front of me is begging to be drawn on
I pick up my pencil, and begin sketching away
But one wrong stroke ruins it, and I rip out the page
I guess I’ll just have to try again another day

I throw the paper in the trash
When someone comes and takes it out
“Why did you throw this away?” they ask
“Because it’s ugly, without a doubt”

“It’s not ugly,” they tell me cheerfully
They sit down next to me, and sketch the rest
“What are you doing?” I ask
“I’m finishing what you started, because I’m impressed”

They finish sketching the rest of my drawing and show it to me
I’m amazed at what they turned my ugly drawing into
“Wow, that’s really good.”
Maybe saying that it’s ugly just isn’t true.

Poem 3: Acrostic

Through tough times, you’re always there
Oddly enough, we make quite a good pair
Giving each other anything we need
Even though we’re both crazy,
Time with you is the best time of my life
Hope we stay together forever
Everything's better when you’re around
Really, I mean it

Poem 4: Etheree

The hurricane is coming our way, stay safe
I just hope it dies down really soon
Thunder screams, it’s voice echoing
Water floods the streets outside
Lightning comes from nowhere
Lighting up the sky
Rain pounds on doors
The wind howls
Power’s out
“Someone…
Help”

Poem 5: Elegy (TW!)

Why did he have to leave?
I thought I finally found my one true best friend
How could I be so naive?
Is it because of me that he brought his life to an end?

I’m sorry if I ever made him feel sad
If I did, I never meant to
I hope he knows he never made me feel bad
Didn’t he know that people loved him, and I was one of the few?

Part 2 (512 words):

A lot of rules in schools have a purpose. Like no cheating on tests, or no bullying. But one particular rule in almost all schools isn’t very purposeful, and would be much better if schools lifted the rule. This rule is no chewing gum during school. Why aren’t we allowed to do this? It would have a positive impact on students, and the whole school in general if students were just allowed to chew their favorite types of gum while working on a test, assignment, or during recess!

Gum is proven to reduce stress. And if you’ve ever been to school, it sure is stressful! If schools wanted best for their students, they wouldn’t want them to be stressed, and allowing them to chew gum is one of the small steps they can take to having a stress-free learning environment. Studies have shown that 65% of athletes chew gum before or during a game to release stress. Also, chewing gum increases the amount of attention student’s pay to their teachers or to their work. If schools would just let students chew gum during class, they would pay more attention to their work, and take fewer breaks while studying. According to a study done in 2009, “students who chewed gum required fewer breaks, kept a longer attention span and sat quieter for a longer period of time than those who did not chew gum.” Gum also increases students’ memory. This is helpful when it comes to remembering formulas to a specific answer on a test. It seems like a no-brainer because of these facts! I know from experience that some of my classmates chew gum during school despite not being allowed to, and I’ve seen one of my classmates get in trouble for it before. I know it’s against the rules, but why should they get in trouble for simply chewing on a piece of gum? They’re not hurting anyone, and there is research that proves they are actually helping themselves. I understand that passing this rule may lead to gum stuck underneath desks or on the sidewalks. But why do students do this? Because they will get in trouble if they spit it out anywhere else! In fact, I know I shouldn’t admit it, but I’ve chewed gum myself during school, but I just didn’t get caught. I have first hand experience that it makes me less likely to talk to people, which teachers hate, right? It also makes me pay more attention to what I’m doing.

I believe that schools would be a better place if schools lifted the rule of no gum chewing. There isn’t any proper reason to have this rule, since there are so many reasons why chewing gum is helping students, and not hurting them. In fact, there’s way more reasons for chewing gum than against it. The pros outweigh the cons by a tremendous amount, so why are schools still keeping this rule? I don’t know, but hopefully someday soon they’ll understand that schools would be a better environment overall if they just allowed gum chewing.

Part 3 (901 words):
Alarm clock goes off and OLIVIA turns it off tiredly.
OLIVIA rubs her eyes and sits up in her bed

OLIVIA
Ugh, is it seriously morning already?

MOM walks in from off-stage, smiling.

MOM
Rise and shine! Ready for your first day at your new school? Hey, why don’t you wear that new yellow blouse I bought you!

MOM picks up a yellow blouse and gives it to OLIVIA

OLIVIA
(disgustedly)
Mom… I don’t really want to attract attention at my new school.

MOM
Attention? Don’t be silly Olivia. All the girls will be wearing nice clothes. Everyone will want to be your friend.

MOM walks out of the room
OLIVIA walks off-stage and comes on a second later wearing the blouse.
OLIVIA looks at herself in the mirror and cringes.

OLIVIA
Ew, this looks terrible on me…

OLIVIA puts an oversized hoodie on over.

Curtains close and open up in the car.

DAD
Olivia, tell your brother to hurry up or we’re leaving him.

OLIVIA
(yelling)
Brodie, you’re making us all late!

BRODIE comes into the car and slams the door behind him.

DAD
Excuse me, young man. Nobody slams doors in my house.

BRODIE
It’s not your house, it’s our house!

DAD
Stop talking back.

BRODIE
I’ll talk back all I want to!

OLIVIA
(sadly)
Guys, stop fighting. We’re already late enough.

OLIVIA stares out the window and bites her lip so she doesn’t cry.

DAD and BRODIE yell at each other but it’s muffled over the sound of the other cars coming from off-stage.

Curtains close again and open up at OLIVIA’s school. OLIVIA is standing in the center with other students around her talking together. She is standing outside but the buildings are in the backdrop. It’s unclear what the other people are saying. Around half of the girls are wearing oversized hoodies like OLIVIA, but half of them are wearing crop-tops and very short shorts.

OLIVIA
(whispering)
Mom was wrong, nobody is wearing old lady style blouses…

A tall boy with blonde hair comes over hurriedly and pushes her over by accident.

OLIVIA
Hey!

The boy kept on walking, not bothering to check up on her or even apologize. Everyone is staring at her, but does nothing. Embarrassed, OLIVIA gets back up and speed walks toward the building in the backdrop. She looks down at her orange paper in front of her, then looked back up.

Backdrop changes into what it looks like inside the building- with lockers and classrooms.

OLIVIA
J112… J112… J112… Nope, that’s J109, that’s J110. J112 has to be around here somewhere… J11… Oh, there it is! J112!

OLIVIA walks into a classroom and looks around. The backdrop changes again to the inside of the classroom. There’s tiled floors, a white board at the front, and a bunch of desks. Some students are already sitting at their desks, but most aren’t.

OLIVIA
I guess I’m early.

TEACHER
What’s your name, honey?

OLIVIA
(awkwardly)
Er- Olivia Thomas

TEACHER looks down at her seating chart

TEACHER
Thomas, Thomas, Thomas. Let’s see here… Ah, here we are! Olivia sweetie, you’re sitting right over there, behind Jacob.

TEACHER points to a chair in the back, behind a tall boy with blonde hair, the same one that pushed her down earlier.

OLIVIA walks towards the back of the classroom and sits down at her desk. She looks around awkwardly, watching more and more people come in.

TEACHER
Okay honey, you’re sitting right there next to Olivia.

OLIVIA jerks her head up as DEVYN walks towards her. DEVYN is wearing a crop top with sweatpants, with her dyed blue hair in a messy bun.

DEVYN
Hey! You’re Olivia? Cool, that’s one of my sister’s names.

DEVYN plops all of her stuff on the desk and chair.
OLIVIA shifts away from DEVYN a little bit.

OLIVIA
(uncomfortably)
Oh, that’s cool…

DEVYN
Yep! I’m Devyn, by the way.

DEVYN sits down in her chair next to OLIVIA

DEVYN
What school are you from? I don’t remember you from last year. Or did you just move here? My older brother told me that the science teacher is really nice but to stay away from the English teacher. What are your electives? Oh, your last name is Thomas, right? Are you related to Mr. Thomas, the new tech guy?

OLIVIA
Oh, um, I’m from another middle school. I transferred here because my dad got a job here as Head of Technology. My electives are art and P.E.. Oh, yeah, Mr. Thomas is my dad…

DEVYN
Nice. To be honest, I would hate it if my dad worked here. It would just be so… embarrassing!

OLIVIA
That’s what I’m scared about. I don’t want him to embarrass me in front of my new school.

DEVYN
I’m sure you’ll be fine.

TEACHER
Students, eyes up here! Here’s a paper to fill in about yourself, then we’ll share them!

TEACHER passes papers to everyone

DEVYN
Ew, look at Krystie.

OLIVIA
W- Who’s Krystie?

DEVYN points to a girl wearing a skirt and a tight-fitting top, who is obviously chewing gum.

DEVYN
My ex-girlfriend. She was toxic. She’s like, really popular, but we all hate her.

OLIVIA
Who all hates her?

DEVYN
Me and my friends. And hopefully you. She’s such a show-off and I hate her guts. I regret ever dating her.

OLIVIA
Oh, so you’re…

DEVYN
Gay? Lesbian? Yes, I am.

OLIVIA
Nice.

Part 4 (867 words):
It might not seem like it, but center-mids have very important jobs on the soccer field. They take up the empty space, take the ball away before it gets to the defensive players, and they advance the ball forwards. There are also a lot of things you can do to practice being the best center-mid you can be.
First, you’d need to practice ball control. This is something my coach would tell me every single day. Ball control. Ball control. Ball control. This includes having good touches. Ways to practice this is by passing to a wall, doing toe-taps, around-the-worlds, or similar ball movement exercises. On goal kicks/punts, you’ll need to be the first one there if it’s to the middle. So, you’ll also need to learn how to settle the ball. I like to practice this by throwing the ball up in the air, then settling it on the ground. Don’t be afraid to use your chest, or even your head to trap the ball. You need to remember to have a good first touch if you want to keep the ball on your team.
Second, center-mids are usually the ones receiving the ball from defense, and advancing the ball up to the wings or striker. So, you’ll need to practice your passes and look for whoever's open. Don’t pass the ball for someone who has a man or two on them. Look before you pass, is the golden rule my coach always told me. Wait for your teammate to make a run, or pass it up the line. And when in doubt, shoot! Remember to look over your shoulder before receiving. Good practice for this is to dribble the ball while looking up, or passing to the wall while making a run up the line before receiving it.
Another important tip is to call for the ball. Don’t be quiet. Instead, let your teammates know that you’re there and open for the ball. Saying something as simple as “ball” will do, or you could say their names or “here”.
I love playing center-mid on the soccer field, but it takes a lot of hard work and practice. Practicing ball control, looking over your shoulder, calling for the ball, and passing to open players can really affect your gameplay for the better, and hopefully rack up some wins for your team. Center-mids are the transition between defense and offense, which usually happens in a second if the team uses good passing, ball control, and language.

I heard my alarm clock go off and pressed snooze. And again. And again. I had snoozed around five times by then, but I was still tired. I went to sleep the earliest my body let me, which was around 10 o’clock. It felt like no time passed at all, and it was already five minutes until 7 o’clock. School starts in an hour, and I’m still in bed. I managed to roll out of bed, and get ready while still being half asleep. But before I knew it, it was already 7:50, and time to leave the house to go to school to get there by 8:00.
During my first period, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. It was like everytime I blinked, I wanted to leave my eyes closed forever. I just wished I could’ve slept for another hour! But no, I had to go to school, because that’s just how it is. To make things worse, there was nothing that could stop me from falling asleep. I didn’t have any gum on me, I didn’t have anyone to talk to, and the lesson was just boring in general! I let out a big yawn, and rested my head on my hand. That was the only way that my head wouldn’t lie flat on my desk and make me doze off. I could feel my eyes slowly closing, and I was basically fighting with myself for my eyes to stay open. I looked around the classroom. Everybody was laser focused on the lesson. They wouldn’t mind if I closed my eyes for a few minutes, right?
The sound of giggling interrupted my nice dream, and it took me a few minutes to remember that I was in my classroom. I jerked my head up as fast as I could, putting on a face to make people think I was listening to the lesson. The only problem was that my whole class was staring at me and laughing, and the teacher was walking towards my desk.
“Students, you are dismissed for your next class,” he said to the class, then focused his attention on me. “Can I speak with you?”
I gulped and nodded my head, while a million thoughts were racing through my head. Will I get in trouble? How much did I miss?
While I was making my way towards my teacher’s desk, I thought up what I would say if he asked me why I was sleeping.
“I- I was just so tired, and I couldn’t stay awake. If only school would’ve started just an hour later, then I promise I wouldn’t be sleeping in your class,” is what I told him.

2600 words total

Pixelated_Pickax

My Unfinished Story (for a daily)

If I’m not mistaken, today marks over 48 short lived days since the village incident took place. A majority of that time was spent waiting around the village. Hoping that someone would show us a sign of life, until it was finally time to face the facts: no one had survived.

The only reports I could find were filled with false hope as everyone desperately tried to convince themselves that there was some chance of finding at least one village survivor there that would be able to help us find our way home to the real world.

I waited with the others for days, then months. One by one we slowly found ourselves drifting apart and finding our places in this place we’ve since called the land of Bountiful.

Victor and I stayed behind to hold a proper ceremony for each villager that died. We made them all a special memorial we reserved for the village, so that no one would ever forget their loss.

I sat down and studied the native village texts and books I had stumbled across in the smoldering remains of the village library adjacent to the blacksmith, but I couldn’t seem to decipher any of them. None of the words seemed to make any sense to me. My mind kept wandering from topic to topic, thinking about how I used to write poems and poetry stories. I thought about what I could have possibly been like back when I first started writing.

Perhaps… Maybe if I didn’t fall victim to the horrible accident that led me to this world, things could have turned out differently.
I sighed deeply. The thoughts were starting to consume me. It wasn’t like I could help it, they were just too much for me to handle alone.

I heard Victor speak up from behind me. I could tell from the tone of his voice he was concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah… Just a little overwhelmed.” I admitted softly. He nodded his head slightly.

“How can you stand it here?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I guess I’m still trying to process everything that happened. The people, the place, even the food, it’s so strange to me.”

Last edited by Pixelated_Pickax (March 8, 2022 02:29:21)

Whimsy_lux

SWC Unfinished story. I sorta left it at a point I was comfortable with but never finished afterwards. Technically this isn't the very start but the begining was pretty boring hence why I lost the motivation.

The thief’s laugh echoed through the forest. Though his original plan had failed, the heist had been way more interesting than he expected. To him the reward isn’t the most important part. Almost getting caught, seeing the distress on the townspeople’s faces, if only they were faster maybe for once they’d be able to catch him. It was the most fun he's had in a long time, so fun he almost forgot about the person who caused the entire mess in the first place.
“C-Cain? What were you doing? Are you hiding something?” The man asked, though to Cain he was just a naive boy. He put blind trust in a stranger and still doesn’t know what he’s gotten into. What was his name again? Kyle or something, too gullible for the world like he’s been living in a cave his whole life. People like him annoyed the thief, and now Cain thought, it was the perfect time to get rid of him.
“Am I hiding something? How pathetic are you? Y’know what, I don't care anymore, stop calling me Cain. The name’s Charles and if you had ears you’d know most know me as the serpent, the most infamous thief in the kingdom. But now that you know who I am, I’m going to have to kill you.” Cain or now Charles said as he reached into his belt pulled out a dagger and threw it at Kyle, narrowly missing his neck.
“So close, I guess I’m a bit rusty but not even a cut? How disappointing,” Charles taunted yet Kyle didn’t move. His entire body was shaking, his head darting to the tree the blade stabbed into. The dagger that could’ve cut into his throat. The dagger that could’ve left him gasping for air, bleeding out on the ground helpless. The dagger that could've killed him even though the only reason he was here was to escape death himself. Now Charles was right in front of him, staring, analyzing him and finally Kyle understood what he had to do. Run.
So he ran. Charles didn’t, it was only fair after all, Kyle deserved the head start. It wasn’t because he wanted the boy to escape. He was an annoying, helpless, good for nothing parasite. So why’d he purposefully miss his shot? He knew already, because Charles the most wicked, vile, evil thief couldn't bear having someone’s own blood on his hands. Not again, not after what he did. Quickly he shoved the thoughts out of his mind, He could still see Kyle and the chase was on.
In no time flat Charles was right behind him and he could tell Kyle was getting tired. In a way the thief pitied him. Maybe he’d just scare him off, but he can’t make it look like he was going easy on Kyle. He took out another dagger and started slashing, the blade shining in the moonlight. Then he stopped, the forest was thick, Kyle was tired and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep running.
“Oh, you’re giving up already, and I was hoping you’d put up a fight.” Charles said, only a few feet away, constantly inching closer. Kyle tried to back away but he bumped into a tree, Time to get this over with, Charles thought. But then there was a flash.
Light invaded his eyes and when he opened his eyes Kyle’s shoulder was glowing. A faint mark was showing through his clothes, a tattoo? Kyle struck his hand out, it was still shaking. He was mumbling a chant that Charles couldn’t hear and then blue crystals formed around his legs. So that’s what the book was, Charles thought. Kyle was a mage.
Kyle fell to the ground panting, his tattoo no longer glowing. Charles tried to move his feet but was stuck. The more he moved the more the crystals dug into his leg causing him to hiss in pain and ultimately decided not to keep on going.
“Well played, I’m guessing you’ll be leaving to find somewhere else to live?” Charles said, shoving his dagger back in his belt. Kyle though didn’t leave and it didn’t seem to be out of fatigue. He looked up and stared straight into Charles’ emerald eyes but then avoided eye contact.
“I thought we were friends,” He mumbled and Charles lost it.
“Friends! That’s the best joke I’ve heard in my life. Do you even hear yourself right now? For a second I thought you were actually competent!” He laughed and laughed and laughed. The sound echoed in the forest. Charles lied, stole and tried to kill him yet Kyle was clinging to a nonexistent string of hope for what? Friendship. Thankfully Charles had a trick up his sleeve. He was sick of the interaction and sick of Kyle and Kyle wasn’t the only half-elf and not the only one who magic either.
In a green flash of light Charles was out, a snake dangling between the crystals where he once was. Kyle gasped but was still trapped, Charles bet he regretted not running while he had the chance. Once again Charles pulled out his dagger and held it against the hopeless boy’s neck. He pushed it in, a dot of blood forming on the surface but Charles couldn’t move his hand farther. He tried but his body wouldn’t let him. He was about to talk, taunt him, make a joke, something to fill up the silence but he wasn’t able to. Someone else did it for him.
“STAY WHERE YOU ARE! DROP THE WEAPON AND DO NOT STRUGGLE,”
Guards. They must’ve been following them ever since he left the village. Normally Charles would always make sure he’s never followed but Kyle distracted him and now he’s been found.
The footsteps were far enough away, through the trees they most likely haven’t caught either of their faces. If he ran he could escape and they could take Kyle instead. No, they would question him first and find out he’s not the one they're looking for. They would find out Kyle isn’t “The Serpent”. Kyle would rat him out, describe what Charles looks like and he’d get caught. There was only one thing he could do.
Charles grabbed Kyle and ran.

vkpatil

here's my unfinished story <3

tw for panic attacks, anxiety, intrusive thoughts

note: /(text)/ means italics lol

“How did you manage to mess this up?! All you had to do was press ‘ON’.” Ebony’s face contorted as she yelled at Vee. Vee shrunk back, with stubborn fear. “Now, because of you, the entire production is ruined!”
Vee felt a shiver run through her hand that was still on the switch, and she felt the disapproving glares of the rest of the drama club resting on her.
“Look, I- I was just side-tracked, okay?” Vee stammered, her voice shaky, “It was an accident, please-”
“Yeah, right, like that’s a valid excuse!” a purple-haired girl said angrily. Her steely glare rested on Vee, and she shrunk back, biting her lip.
“I was just distracted! It won’t happen again, I’m sorry…”
Ebony crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, really? What were you distracted by?”
Vee felt her skin go cold and her clothes felt like they were wrapping around her as tight as possible. Her forehead felt slick with sweat. /I can’t say that in front of everyone…/
“It’s personal, so I can’t say.” Vee tried to steady her voice, the tremor only slightly reduced, “It was an accident that I forgot to press the button to turn on the lights, and I’m sorry i accidentally pressed the emergency light shut down button.”
“Yeah, well, sorry doesn’t fix everything.” Ebony said, her voice ascending, “And the fact that everyone else,” – she gestured to everyone else in the room – “is currently silent, means they agree.”
Vee felt her hands trembling, and she involuntarily keeled over, trying to regain her breath which was now coming in and out shallow and rapidly.
“Great, here she goes again,” she heard someone mutter sarcastically in the background, “Another episode of ‘Vee the Drama Queen’.”
Black spots started to sneak in at the edges of Vee’s vision, and her tunnel vision just gave her a good view of the floor and Ebony’s black stilettos.
“Yeah,” she recognized the purple-haired girl’s snarky voice in the background, “Her supposed ‘panic attacks’ are made up. She’s just a (bleep) attention-seeker.”
The black spots started to spread throughout her vision, and she saw the floor approach her as she lost her balance and fell down. /Yay, time to die./

mynameisleafshine

Another unfinished story by yours truly.
Please for the love of scratch read keeper of the lost cities by shannon messenger first (at least book 1)

This is absolute cringe from March 7, 2021
Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

So you know how everyone's always like ‘blah blah oh, new year means new chances!’ Well yes, you get new teachers but you already know everybody there. Do you think they are gonna change?

Oh right. I guess I started rambling before introducing myself. I'm Ami. That's Amy with an i. I'll tell you my life story later.

So anyways I was coming to Foxfire for my opening ceromonies. My parents were there, and my sister. Right, my sister. Let's back up a bit, shall we? This is Carmen Mc. Perfect Potts. At least she's not princess prissy or anything but oh my is she too perfect. You'll see what I mean.

So yes, back to present time. I am at the Opening Ceromonies having to look like a winged idiot Halycon.

“Isn't this gonna be great? We get to be birds!” Carmen looked at me and flapped her arms, er wings.

“Carmen, we can't even fly. It just makes us look dumb,” I grumbled.

“Oh, don't be such a grump!” She said cheerfully, in a way that made me want to hit her.

“Level Ones On Stage Now!” One of the mentors called.

After a few minutes of what looked almost like ballet, the Level Ones finished. I inhaled deeply as the mentors instructed us onto the stage in tight rows.

Then the music started. It was light and airy with a few twinkling noises. We rotated like helicopters, and jumped up and down. Believe me, it was not fun.

I took a heavy step and tripped over myself. It felt like falling in slow motion. I braced myself for the cold hard ground, but I felt an arm on my shoulder as someone pulled my back up.

I turned around, but there was no one there. I continued dancing stupidly.

After it was finally over, I practically flew over to the exit.

***

(After the Performances)

They kept us quiet for the rest of the performances, so It was forever until I could finally speak to Carmen. And yes, it is a big deal if I need to talk to Carmen.

I spotted her in the corner talking to a LOT of people. I quickly grabbed her arm.

“Sorry, Mom and Dad need us!” I rushed off into a quiet area.

“What was that for?” Carmen asked, not really sounding agitated, just curious.

“Someone grabbed me from falling on the ground. Did you see who it was?” I asked.

“Oh, sorry I was too focused on the performance,” Carmen drooped her shoulders. Then she grinned. “Sounds like someone has a secret admirer!”

“Shut up,” I glared at her. “I never should have asked.” I muttered under my breath.

But if Carmen didn't know, who was it?

CHAPTER 2
The first day of foxfire felt to me like the national day of anxiety attacks. Every moment felt like someone was watching me. I really wasn't sure what to feel. Should I feel grateful to them for saving me from mass-embarrassment? Should I be weirded out that they weren't there when I turned around?

Wait…

They weren't there when I turned around…

It must have been a Vanisher!

It only took a moment for me to realize how stupid I was. Of course it was a Vanisher. I wanted to smack myself. Hard. But before I could, the deep voice of Dame Orian sounded through the hallways.

“All prodigies are to be in their classes by 15 minutes. If you need help, please visit the mentors stationed on all wings of the building.”

I quickly licked the Umber leaf tasting trip and stored my personal belongings in my locker.

I headed off to class and the school day began.

***

Now I would love to tell you how boring history was, or how many times I embarrassed myself (they expect us to know everything) but then we'd be here all day. The only class where something interesting happened, was in P.E.

I was unlucky enough to have my sister in the class with me, but the whole Level was together.

“Alright Prodigies!” Lady Alisa announced, silencing everyone. “We will be working on basic mental control for the Ultimate Splotching tournament in a few weeks. For now, you will be practicing with this.” She showed what looked like a tennis

ball.

“As you advance each level, you will need to control more weight and moving targets.” She continued.

“And this is the hardest of them all!” She showed a giant chained wrecking ball

with spikes that jittered inside of its cage.

“We barely use it anymore due to its unsafe conditions,” Her face flickered grim as if she was having a flashback.

But I barely paid attention. The box was jittering more violently.

Seconds passed and suddenly, it broke free.

CHAPTER 3 (last chapter before discontinued)
The gym became absolute chaos.

People were screaming, Lady Alisa was yelling, the ball was flying. It seemed as if Lady Alisa had contacted Dame Orian, because he walked into the room and used this voiceifier ability.

“ALL PRODIGIES EXIT THE GYM!” He loudly announced. We all covered our ears.

The good thing was, people were moving to the door. The bad thing was, the ball was heading straight for Carmen, who had her back turned.

“CARMEN! Get out of the way!” I yelled desperately. Sure, I didn't love her, but I was not going to let my sister die. But being a Polyglot, I could do nothing.

Carmen turned and froze, wide eyed.

“Move!” I yelled, my voice breaking up.

The ball came closer.

Carmen stayed frozen.

“Please!” My voice was barely a yell.

The ball was mere inches away.

And then it hit.

I turned away, squeezing my eyes shut.

Then I didn't hear the ball anymore. Lady Alisa must have trapped it with her froster ability.

“What just happened?” A small voice said. I thought it was Carmen, but I didn't dare look. I must have just been hallucinating.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. For a second I thought it was the vanisher. But it was better. The most annoying voice in the world.

“Uh, can someone please explain to me why I'm alive?” Carmen asked.

I looked up and saw her.

Then I immediately squeezed her into a bear hug. “I don't know either. But WHY DID YOU NOT RUN AFTER I TOLD YOU LIKE THREE TIMES?”

“It just felt right,” Carmen shrugged.

I should have been angry at how she shrugged off near-death, but I was too shocked.

“We need to get you to a physician,” Dame Alisa walked up from behind us.

“I'll go with her,” I volunteered instantly. Mostly because I was curious.

“Alright, but make it quick.” Dame Alisa gave me the death glare.

We went through the hall with astonished looks trailing behind us like we had holy light on us. Or not really ‘us’. Mostly Carmen. Not that it was unusual.

The rest of the walk was mostly silence. It wasn't like either of us knew what happened. Or possibly we were afraid of what we were going to find.

We finally reached the door to the physician. Carmen went first.

And she walked right through the door, like it was invisible.

(Meaning that she walked through the solid like it was air, without opening it)

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