Scratch Writing Camp Writing Sharing Thread (March 2022)

-Galatic_Planet-

Something for Poetry Cabin :)

Line 1) Aphrodite is an immortal being
Line 2) The daughter of Zeus and “weaver of wiles” - makes others deceive
Line 3 and 4) prays without care or suffering, Destroy m spirit and happiness!
Line 5) In quick pity, come here now if you ever will instead of waiting
Line 6) Become young when you beg to hear my voice
Line 7 and 8) You need to listen when you leave the temple of Zeus
Line 9 and 10) Your chariot is stuck and doves are pulling you (in your chariot) quickly and freely to the underworld
Line 11) Their white wings flying against a bright blue sky
Line 12) Through “medieval outer space space” - mid-ether is what people believed to be in between planets
Line 13) Quickly you and the doves came - “gracious Vision” V in Vision is capitalized so it must be a proper nouns therefore symbolizing something
Line 14-16) You leaned in with your your everlasting beauty and smiled and said, “What’s wrong? Why did you call me here?”
Line 17-20) “What my crazified heart wanted most was someone who could help me be me What disrespect pf heavily worshiped. Who is being unjust to you, Sappho?
Line 21) She was pleased that she could fly and the she will follow you
Line 22 and 23) She rejects, but then wants to get back together and who she doesn't pay much attention to she wants
Line 24) “Love thee, the loth one” - She loves the unwilling person
Line 25) Hence come to me, Aphrodite, release me from suffering and all my distracted self would want is u, it would make me whole

The poem was seeming to be a prayer or about someone praying to Aphrodite. The seem to really adore her.

melovesushi

SWC Daily - Unfinished stories

Unfinished story taken from @nyan_cat121

“Evelyn, come on!”
I turn to my cousin, Sam, who holds out an eager hand to me. Her coffee brown hair waves slightly in the cold night breeze, but not a lot since the spontaneous streaks of red dye in it are stiff with product.
I remember when she bleached it at home. We share a bedroom because her parents are always gone on important business trips and thought it'd be best if she wasn't always alone at her house, so she sleeps on the top bunk of my bed in our apartment. I've always wondered if she ever wished she was still back in her large, sparkling, three-floor house, but she's never once complained.
Sam does get furious with her parents sometimes, and makes these kinds of funny, erratic decisions—or as my mom calls it, “impulsive behavior that her mother and father left heedless.”
I was heading to our room one time ready for an all-nighter, armed with a handful of nuts and a can of ginger ale. I opened the door to find Sam with her back turned, sitting on the carpet, hugging her knees. When I asked what was wrong, she turned to me, her eyes bloodshot red.
“I hate them. I hate them for leaving. For leaving me.”
That's what she told me in a stuttering voice quite unlike her usual self. It was obvious she'd been crying a lot. Then she muttered, “I need to go to the bathroom” and left. Five minutes later I heard the front door slam open and close. She didn't come back for a full half-hour. When she returned, she was carrying red bleach and a hair dye kit.
Now Sam's staring at me expectantly. The chainlink fence looms behind her. After a moment, she sighs and rolls her eyes, then lifts her arms and loops her fingers through the mesh. The wired fence rattles as she hoists herself up, her white-turned-beige sneakers scraping its steel netted surface. When she gets to the top she rolls over lengthwise and drops down clumsily onto the grassy cement.
“See? Evie, it's not that hard,” she presses her hands against the fence and looks at me.
I twist my right earring nervously out of habit. “Um, I still don't think this is a good idea. I mean like, what if we get caught? ”

My continuation:

“We won't,” my cousin reassures me with a dismissive tone as she beckons me to the other side of the fence. “Just climb up and over, and I'll catch you.”
“You promise?” I retort suspiciously, putting my hands on my hips with a raised eyebrow.
Sam shakes her head and lets out an amused sigh. She looks up at me, and her expression is sincere as she says, “I promise.”
I nod, though only half-satisfied with her affirmation. Anxiously, I grasp onto the metal barrier and attempt to mimic Sam's movements from earlier. Unsurprisingly, I don't succeed.
When I swing my legs over the fence, my foot slips off the pipe lining the top of it. In a moment of failed impulse, I let go and fall roughly into the less-than-steady arms of Sam. We collapse to the ground with equally loud grunts, guiltily looking at each other. We were in big trouble now.
Scrambling to her feet, my cousin flips her dark hair back as she pulls me up. “Okay, I know where the office is. If we move fast, we can get in and out with no problems.” Her eyes flit in every direction warily as she scans our surroundings, and I get the sinking feeling that I've gotten into something a little - no, a lot - larger than I had anticipated. I could probably go to juvie hall for this… I think with a sense of doom as I follow Sam towards the large office building.
“Tell me again,” I request, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Why are we breaking into your parents' office building to leave a simple note for them?”
Sam scoffs, clearly offended. “Evie, it's not /just/ a note. It's a declaration of my feelings! I'm leaving a note telling them exactly what I think about them leaving all the time, and that I deserve a heartfelt apology.”
I pat her shoulder half-jokingly, taking the chance to remind my cousin of the flaws in her plan. “You do know they won't even read it until they get back from their trip, right? It's gonna be a while before those feelings even get to them…”
“The important thing is that they get to them, okay? It won't go wrong. It's the perfect plan!” she huffs, clearly annoyed that I'm raining on her parade. She turns away, jogging ahead of me.
I reluctantly follow her, my thoughts only becoming more negative. Why can't she realize that those plans are going to get her in trouble one day? One day, she's going to go over the edge…and I won't be able to save her.

437 words :3

Shadow-of-a-kitten

Unfinished story for the daily

I stared outside into the void of darkness that had overcome the world outside my bedroom window. The sound of rain bouncing against the window pane sounded lost, almost in the distance, as my finger traced the streaks of water rushing down the glass. A faint alarm echoed through the night, barely reaching me in my foggy state. My hand, the one that was not by my window, reached out and grasped my alarm clock, in hope of shutting it down.
Beeping echoing through the darkness…

The sound snapped me back to reality, and I quickly shoved my alarm clock under my pillow to mute the loud and annoying sound. I had set my alarm to 12:00, midnight, so I could experience the moment I had been waiting for: Tonight was the night of the Spirit moon!

_OutofThyme

3/8 Daily | 569 Words
Writing by @SophIIsa in italics

Icy fingers gripped my arm in the darkness. I trembled. My own mousy brown hair shook and I ran. Faster and faster. “Leave me alone!” I yelled. It was no human.
The faster I ran, the faster it flew. “Get away!” I shouted, running straight into the darkness.
I woke up seeing black. It was silent. No crickets were chirping, there was no sound at all. I was wrapped in something tight, and I struggled to get out. But I couldn’t. Get out, Aurora! Get out! You are in a forbidden place.
I spoke out, “Uh, anyone there?” Wrong choice. I saw movements in the darkness shifting around and heard sounds of murmuring. I shut my eyes tight but still listened. There was a short moment of silence but when I opened my eyes again, I saw a big, dark figure rise upon me. I closed my eyes again.
A voice, a woman, came into my awareness. “What are you going to do to her?” There was no reply.
What is going on? I asked myself. And there was no reply, for I did not know, of course. And I stayed quiet. Listening, I heard a few murmurs and realized there weren’t just 1 or 2, I think, inhuman beings in this place.
A deep voice shot up after about a minute. “Get up. I know you’re awake.” I knew it was talking to me. I was sort of taken aback by it, the voice sounded a bit annoyed. I waited for a moment, wondering if I should do it or not.
“Get up!”
I scoffed. But I remembered that I was stuck, wrapped in a blanket or something. “I can’t get out and you should know that!” I retorted into the dark. If I could know anything about my personality, I would know that I was a very stubborn person, and I honestly didn’t like getting ordered to do something.
I heard someone whisper, “She's more brainless than I thought.” I scrunched my eyes and waited. I was stubborn, but I was patient. Someone sighed. I sighed. I didn’t know what to do, so I just stood there.
Momentarily, I felt something lifted off me and I was able to move again. I was so surprised, and happy. I was able to move my arms and legs! I let out a sound of astonishment. Was it me that just did that?
“No, it wasn’t you, it was me.” I was surprised by the sudden burst of sound.
“W-wait! H-how did you k-know I was thinking that? D-did I accidentally say it a-aloud?” I stuttered.
“No, you didn’t.” The voice was different from that big, dark voice before. It sounded like someone my age.
“Who are you?” I asked and got up, looking around my surroundings.
“I’m…”
I couldn’t hear anything as darkness came over me again.

***

Eventually I woke up to the sound of more murmuring.
“Are you finally awake?” I tried to sit up and was stopped by my throbbing head. “What happened? Who are you? Where-”
“Be patient, human. Anyways, I’m Darcy, I’m an apprentice mage here at the Institution. You’ve been arrested for stealing the Light of Aero, an artifact that has been in our family for centuries.”
“You mean that old bag?” I thought back to the empty, torn sack I had found on the side of a trail. Darcy scoffed. “This is no old bag, this is the most powerful healing tool on this planet!” I heard Darcy pull something out in the darkness, and a burst of light appeared. I watched as the old sack shone and transformed into an amalgamation of different metal tools melted together to form the shape of a creature.
I now looked at Darcy in the light. It had been obvious they were younger from their voice, but it was even more so now. They appeared to be a combination of a deer, a wolf, and a raven. While their appearance looked like something from a horror film, their pose and expression showed only a sassy, bored kid.
“Because of this, we have won every single one of our wars,” Darcy bragged. “If it’s so special, then why’d you leave it lying in the woods?” I asked.
Darcy opened her mouth to speak, then paused. “That’s none of your business!” They snapped. I nodded slowly.
“Anyways,” Darcy began pacing, “The punishment for stealing the Light of Aero is death.”
“Death?!” I panicked. I had promised to only be back home in an hour, and now…
“Well of course, what did you think would happen?”
“But I didn’t realize what it was! If you wanted it back, you could’ve asked!” I pleaded.
“Yeahh, but we need to look like we’re doing something impressive.” She observed her nails.
“So you admit that you don't’ kn-”
A door banged open. Light spilled into the room. We turned over the doorway to see another Darcy, but even bigger and not twelve.
“DARCY!” He boomed.
“Sir! Everything is under control!” Darcy reported.
The guard walked over to Darcy and looked at the Light of Aero in their hand. “Gotten better at crafting, eh?” He picked up the Light from Darcy’s claws.
“Yes!” Darcy smiled.
He smashed it.
“No!” Darcy yelled.
“And what are you doing, chatting with prisoners? Haven’t we told you how dangerous these creatures are?” He snapped. “Go back to the main room. I don’t want to be seeing you down here.”
Darcy scurried off.
“Before you ask, human, that wasn’t any special ‘Light of Aero.’ That was a child’s trick.” He then began talking to the air beside him. “Daylen, tell the scouts to make sure to keep all items from this realm out of the humans’. We’ve found one. And tell the scholars to come. I think our prophecy is finally going into motion.” He held up a hand as I looked at him, puzzled.
“There hasn’t been one in the past year, I don’t know what other human this could be talking about.”
“So at the main hall? Okay.” He turned to me. “Come with me, human. I don’t think you’ll be going home for a while, but that’s okay.” He grinned, showing large, sharp, teeth. “We have much more important work to do.”

this was verrryyy interesting to come up with. i think i'm going to expand on this story in the future

zodiacdog

THE PART THAT SOMEONE ELSE MADE (@DorkyQueen98, 961 words)

Intro

When you think of school, what do you think?? Boring classes? Disgusting food? Mean lunch ladies? Er, I mean, mean teachers?? Too much homework? Nevertheless, I’m making this list waay to long here. Anyways, I just thought of all that, and realized my school has none of those! Well, except for the mean lunch lady part. My school is called Starleen Academy. A handful of students from our current school got selected to go there for 1 month. It’s a boarding school, so I packed 2 suitcases plus a duffel bag, oh and a backpack. It’s school after all. I got on the train with 2 of my friends, who also got picked, Stephanie and Lily.

Arrival

“Heey amigos!” I said, and sat down in the seat with them. It was so comfy, I closed the door. And then of course, I did, “the hug.” The train then left the station and we were on our way to Starleen Academy! There were so many things. We rode over a ditch, and passed a river, and when we went onto the rolling hills, we could see the academy in the distance. As we got closer we could see how big it really was. It looked like a castle. The biggest one ever!! As we got off the train, we were all a little nervous. We stared up at the academy, it was so big, it was probably the size of a city. As we approached the main entrance 3 girls stood on the front steps. You could barely see their faces, and the sky was starting to darken. Then they flung the hats off their heads and turned up to us with a smile on their faces. The particularly tall one walked down a few steps. Her hair was a light blond color, she wore a trench coat. (?) She had glasses, but a strong gust of wind blew them off her face.

“Hello students!” She said, “I am your principal, and my name is Principal Shadow.” She said. Shadow was a weird name for her, especially since she made me think of the sun. She smiled at us, “The other two girl’s here are academy prefects. They each lead different groups, and you should have gotten more information about that in your letters. The one to my left is Amy, and she leads the group that will reside in the East Wing this session. The one to my right is Scarletta, and she leads the group that will reside in the West Wing this session.” A few people in the crowd started murmuring nervously. “And,” She said, trying to get everyone’s attention, and the crowd immediately silenced. “There will be one last group, led by me, who will be mainly working in the Library this session.” She said, and she continued. “Now, rain will soon be upon us, so I’d like everyone to split into their groups now, you know what they are.” At that, me, Stephanie and Lily exchanged nervous glances. Me and Stephanie were both in the West Wing, but Lily was put in the East Wing. We waved each other bye and quickly scrambled to follow our group's prefects.

In the School
The grand doors opened and we took our first steps inside the academy. It was totally not what anybody expected. The first thing everybody noticed first walking in was the giant fountain. Bigger than any fountain you will ever find at ANY mall. Then people gazed in awe at the other things, marble floors, humongous diamond chandeliers. I stared in awe as we walked through the halls. We walked into the cafeteria, which was about the size of a food court in an airport. The chairs had padding and backs. And people crowded around the giant poster that had the menu on it. We were then shown where the bathrooms were, I saw a quick peek inside one of the bathrooms, it was so neat. I slipped in just to take a closer look. The toilets were clean, nothing on the floor, no bad words written in the stalls, and best of all, it actually smelled kinda nice. I quickly came back out before I got in trouble and then the group went upstairs. We all had to fit in the elevator, which, by the way, was HUGE!! It was probably the same size as let’s say, 2 master bedrooms combined!! I bet 4 school buses could fit in there. The elevator arrived on the third floor and we stepped out. We walked down a long, giant hallway and we turned a corner. The East Wing group was also near us, as we approached a giant door, that was made with dark wood and in gold letters, was inscribed with the words, “The West Wing.” I looked across the hall, with another giant door that said “The East Wing” but had lighter words and had the words written in silver. I turned back around, where the West Wing door was being pushed open by Scarletta. Everyone stepped in, and chatter immediately rose up. It was as extravagant as the main area. A long fountain stretched down the hallway and there were huge looking lockers that lined the walls. A few doors that led to classrooms and more bathrooms were scattered around the hallway. We walked to this huge, hole, that allowed you to see down into the cafeteria. Scarletta got everyone’s attention.
“Just to let you know the second level is off limit during school hours. It contains an arcade, many places to shop, and restaurants like Starbucks and McDonalds.” She said, “You may go to these places during after school hours” Then everyone raised their chatter excitedly, as Scarletta showed us which classrooms were where.

MY ADDED PART (408 words)

“Math will be first for us, while the East wing works on history, and Ms. Shadow’s group in the library. Sessions will rotate, and all groups will only meet in hallways, recess, and special occasions.” Me and Stephanie exchanged glances. We would not see Lily much during school hours. “Now, today we are not going to have classes. Instead, we will be meeting all of our teachers, as well as learning the basics. This way into Mrs. Plummers room!” Scarletta led us to a fancy red door. It had embroidery on top, with Mrs, Plummers name on it in golden letters. She ushered us into the room, where we saw Mrs. Plummer. She was tall and had pretty red hair, with green eyes. She wore a pair of red glasses, matching her dress. Everything about Mrs. Plummer was red. She wore red lipstick as well. She smiled as we walked in. “Welcome everyone, why don’t you find your seat?” Each desk had a name inscribed in a golden plate on the side. The room was warm and welcoming. Mrs. Plummer seemed nice after a pleasant introduction, we were on our way to the geography teacher. We walked in. A young, raven haired woman was waiting for them. “Hello class, I’m Ms. Sandy.” Ms. Sandy seemed nice as well. Soon, they were on there way to the cafeteria. Before they entered it, Scarletta said, “Now, Ms. Blude can be.. Strict. Be sure to be on your best behavior.” I glanced at Stephanie. ‘All the teachers in Starleen Academy can’t be perfect!’, and they entered the room. Ms. Blude was a short tempered teacher. When we entered, she yelled at all of us to wipe our shoes on the rug. Then she made quite the speech about all the rules. “No talking! One word and you can eat outside, even if it’s winter.” she screeched. When we left, everyone was murmuring about Ms. Blude. The rest of the day was uneventful. After the tour everyone rushed to the second level. It was super cool! Me and Stephanie found Lily! We went to Starbucks, and Lily got a ginger ale, while me and Stephanie enjoyed a root beer. After some games from the arcade, we headed back up. Tired, I collapsed onto my soft green bed, burying my head in a velvet pillow. My last thought before I fell asleep was ow much I was going to enjoy Starleen Academy!

Last edited by zodiacdog (March 9, 2022 00:00:21)

Shadow-of-a-kitten

Do you ever wonder if maybe, just maybe, happiness is some kind of hoax that doesn’t really exist? Like it's just made up, some sort of trick to get us where we’re supposed to go but we’ll never get there?
I don’t know. I’m probably just being ridiculous, like usual. My mother says she’s happy. My father says he’s happy. The thing is I’m not sure if I can believe them. If they were content the way things were, then why didn’t they act that way?
School’s starting back up in a week. That means that my tutor, Ms. Wilson has been quizzing me more than usual. “See?” she says, whenever I do a good job. “Won’t you be happy when you go to school and you’re smarter than all the other kids?” I never correct her when she says that. Whenever I don’t do as well, she squints at me through her glasses and then just shakes her head disappointedly.
Maybe I will be happy if I’m the smartest in the grade. Maybe that’s all I have to do. It’s easier said than done. My parents are sending me to a private school, the kind that you either have to be really smart or really rich to get into.

The problem is, I'm worried about not doing as well as everyone expects me to do. My parents put a lot of pressure on me to keep my grades up, in an effort to get me into this school. If I do not live up to this, I worry my parents will believe they wasted their money. Maybe if they believed in me more I would be happier.
The teachers say that to get places in life, we need to work hard and do well in school. At least that much sounds true. I sigh as I stare at myself in the mirror. I should be packing my things for school tomorrow. I have got to make a good first impression.
I sift through my books, checking back on my timetable as I place each one in my bed. Do I need my maths book tomorrow? Should I take my English textbook or not? How many different black and blue pens do I need in my pencil case?
I’m probably overreacting. It is just school, I try to remind myself.
It should be just like the public school I went to for years with all my friends.
…
Except everyone here knows exactly what they are doing, who they are friends with, and how to get the teachers to like them.
The thing is, I have no experience with all of this.

I grab out my phone, sending a series of messages to my friends, not waiting for an answer. I’m going to miss the people at my old school. Now I wonder if higher education is going to make me happier, if I sacrifice my old friendships and leadership roles from my old public school.

I shove my school bag into the corner, and sit down, reaching over to my bedside table to grab a book. Yes, I should be getting ready for school, especially if I want to start the school year as well as possible. I don’t want to spend my whole Sunday afternoon worrying about how this year is going to go though. I open up the book and start reading.

My phone lights up again, and I drop the book, replacing it with my phone. Its a message. Not from my friends though, from an unknown number. I read it allowed.
“Hey! I heard you were new to this school. Welcome!”
Perhaps, just mabey, this school year won’t be so bad after all.

408 words

i_like_kotlc

word war with @Prodigy_cat - 219 words

Legs trembling, he cautiously stepped out onto the tightrope. He wobbled slightly, screaming in terror as he did so. “Just don't fall,” he told himself, “and don't think about the giant chasm below you. If you fall… NO,” he interrupted, “don't even think about it.” He tried to distract himself with other thoughs, but he realized that was only making him slip more. They said that he only had to pass this simple test, just tightrope walking, then he'd finally be free, free from their trap. He wasn't sure if that was true or not, but when he heard the offer, he knew he HAD to try. Even if it was fake, or a trap, it was still worth a try, because what if it WERE real… right? He realized that he was already halfway across the canyon! “You've got this,” he told himself. But then… What was that? Why did the tightrope wobble so much? Why did he feel like he was slowly sinking? That was impossible… right? Right?? He didn't even know anymore… until he realized. “TRAPPPP!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, hoping someone would hear him and send help. “Haha,” he thought, “Not out here. No one would risk their life to save some random person…” He heard a tiger growl menacingly below…

Mali2424

Mali's Word War Proof
I didn't want to edit it, since i'm working on the weekly, but I'll be back later to fix it.
beautiful writing, I know. /j

211 words
She suddenly realized she might be alone for the rest of her life.
“Brian! Wait!” she called, but it was too late. He was gone. “Brian!” She ran after him. “I didn’t mean it! Come back!” It was of no use. He was gone. She sat in a doorfraame and sobbed. What had she done? Brian was her way into Vogue. The only reason she was popular! What happened next? She sat motionless, staring out across the sandy beach towards the crashing waves. The sky darkened, and she felt a raindrop hit her head. She got up and started running towards her house, dodging tourists with dumbfounded looks on their faces. She felt a bit of satisfaction at that. She didn’t expect them to have bright rain gear to the beach, after all. It felt good that someone else’s day was ruined. She heard a crack and looked behind her. A branch had fallen of a nearby ree and stuck the roof a a building. CRASH! She ran right into one of Brian’s jerky friends.
“Sylvia? What are you doing here?” He asked.
“I live here, idiot,” she replied, scowling. He offered a hand up.
“Come on. You don’t want to get your pretty clothes wet,” he said, in a mocking, high-pitched voice.

lillylamp_

DAILY FOR MARCH 8th:

CRAZY CREATIONS

CHAPTER 1

Hello, my name’s Phoebe. And I like cats. I just moved into a bigger house from Montana to Missouri, 2 weeks ago. Life was easier in Montana. With my friends and relatives nearby. I moved here because my mom thought that I was “distracted” and she wanted silence. I missed the times we used to play and laugh. I could call my friends everyday, but what’s the point? “Honey, please come over to have dinner,” mom shouted. I groaned. Guess what I had for dinner? The worst Mac and Cheese a child could ever ask for. It’s so hot here, I was used to the cold weather in Montana. Dad said that I could get a new phone for my birthday, but I just declined the offer. I said that I wanted something cool, and exciting. My mom suggested a diary, I liked the idea. On Sunday, a short blonde haired girl stood in front of the door. She said that her name was Emilia S. How funny. She reminded me of my friend back in my old neighborhood. Her name was Emilia S, too. Except that she was short tempered and had freckles. Last week, my mom called her mom and they asked us to make “friendship” by coming over to each other’s houses. We both played in my room, it was fun. But, after sometime, we started fighting so Emilia went home. “Why did she have to be so bossy,” I told my mom. “Sweety, fights can happen sometimes but you have to get over it.” I went to my bedroom and shut the door. I sighed. The next day, I went over to her house to apologize, but her parents said that she was . . . missing.

288 words

i_like_kotlc

sharing proof from a word war that didn't require proof because why not XD
I know it's a little repetitive, I was running out of things to say
words - 226

I stared blankly at the vast desert ahead, wishing, hoping, that some other way would appear, that I wouldn't have to trek across the vast, never-ending desert before me. All I could see was sand, stretching on for miles and miles, just a full landscape of yellow-orange sand, with nothing growing in it, under the blazing hot sun. But it was the only way, and I knew it. Reluctantly, I began my long trek across, dragging my feet along in the sand, reluctant to take this trip but knowing I absolutely had to. It was the only way to save everyone. If I didn't, we would lose, and it would be because of me. All because of me. Then I would be cast out of society, forever viewed as the one who betrayed everyone. Especially after being such a perfect, talented, warrior for years, unanimously voted the most courageous and dedicated. I knew I had to go through this desert, no matter how much I disliked it. I took a deep sigh, and stepped forwards again. Oh what was I even dong? I set off at a light jog, hoping to leave the desert as soon as possible, hoping, praying even, that I wouldn't, or couldn't get lost. I didn't even have a map, or know how long this desert lasted for until I could leave!

Prodigy_cat

Ever since I realized I might’ve been alone my whole life since Loralie, my twin sister was moved to another orphanage, things changed. The old version of ‘normal’ changed. It went by looking out the window and staring at nature, like birds and stray cats, and people trying to adopt me and changing their mind.
No Loralie to try and comfort me in my sad and hollowest days. No Loralie to share a scrumptious white cake, red and pink candle, and a birthday. No Loralie to laugh and play outside with, no Loralie at all.
Otherwise how annoying she sometimes was, it was just plainly lonely. At least I had the stray cat that I named Snow outside.
Snow is one of those pearly-white cats, with lucious fur. I got to pet her once, when getting to play outside. But alone. At least I had Snow.
Snow purrs, and her whole name is Snowcat. It’s like a snowman, but a snowcat, since she’s a cat. And I’m pretty sure she’s a she.
I peer at Snow out the window.
“Hello,” I whisper. It feels good knowing you have a friend. A friend that’s furry and purrs, and meows cutely.
Snow purrs again. She points her snowy-white paw to the door.
Which is also why I named her snow. She is the color of white snow. I also thought of naming her Pearl. Except that, for some reason, didn’t sound right. Even though it sounds good, it somehow didn’t match her.
I walk out the door, and I stroke Snow’s fur.
She purrs and meows, and she sounds a bit like Loralie.
A tear falls from my eye, onto Snow’s fur. Now a small patch of her fur is wet, and my tear dries up as it hits Snow’s fur, like rain.

word war

i_like_kotlc

random paragraph about procrastination - 107 words

What is procrastination and why do we procrastinate? Contrary to popular belief, procrastination, defined as the action of postponing or delaying a task or activity, is not always a negative action. While it can lead to worse performance academically and higher levels of stress and negative emotions, it still provides valuable lessons. For example, it teaches you to manage delay, especially if you are still being productive in other ways during the time you are procrastinating. Furthermore, it can allow for better decision-making, and it allows the mind to process. Despite the numerous negative effects of procrastination, it is still perfectly normal, and allows for more creativity.

-Galatic_Planet-

Random Writing prompt I found (192 words)

Prompt (not counted in the word count)- A shoe falls out of the sky. Justify why.
————–
It would be crazy to see a shoe fall out of the sky. Which is why I’m here to tell you why a shoe could fall out of the sky.

1. There could be a parachuter or a paraglider, who forgot to tie or tie tightly their shoe(s) and it fell off.
2. Or they could have taken their shoe off for some reason and accidentally dropped it.
3. Or when the jumped off of a plane (or where ever they dropped off of) they accidentally knocked a shoe off of the edge
4. Or there could’ve been someone in an old fashioned plane and decided to drop a shoe
5. Or (If you’re in a city) someone could’ve dropped a shoe out their window
6. Or off of a roof
7. Or (If you’re under a really tall bridge) someone dropped one off of the bridge
8. Or they kicked a shoe of the edge
9. Or someone’s in a hot air balloon and they dropped a shoe just for fun!
10. Or there’s a giant bird who grasped a human and the human dropped a shoe as a sign for you too help them but It’s too late

Blizzard_Wolf7

IC Daily - 3/9/22

Sentences: Trash covered the landscape like sprinkles do a birthday cake; She wondered what his eyes were saying beneath his mirrored sunglasses.

Trash covered the landscape like sprinkles do a birthday cake. Nat stared around, miserable in the midst of such desolation. Stacks of plastic bottles as high as two stories, metal cans littering the pavement, waiting to be stepped on and to cut someone’s foot, food scraps slowly rotting, making the air putrid and attracting flies, maggots, all sorts of disgusting things. Not too long ago she could remember when this area was green. When the wooden stumps were trees and the birds sang. When the water was blue and clear, not green and foul and toxic. She closed her eyes and envisioned it in her mind, but the disgusting odor and flies buzzing in her ears made it hard to do so.
“A lot to take in, isn’t it?”
Her eyes flying open, she whipped around at the voice, jumping back to see a tall, young man standing behind her. He wore sunglasses even though the sky was gray, and the clouds were threatening to burst and pour down acid rain with every passing minute.
“Y-yeah, it is a lot,” Nat stammered.
The edges of the man’s lips curved into a small, amused smile.
“What do you think of this?” He gestured to the wasteland sitting before them.
Nat turned back to the heaping mounds of trash.
“It’s…it’s not how things were supposed to be,” she said softly. “None of this was ever supposed to happen.”
“Hm.” The man shrugged. “Sometimes things that aren’t supposed to happen do so anyway.”
Nat was unsure of what to say. She felt the need to justify herself, to explain how all these things weren’t her fault. She opened her mouth, but the man put up a hand to stall her.
“I already know. But what’s done is done.”
Nat stared.
“Who are you? Why are you here? Do you know if there is any way that this can be undone?” The questions suddenly began tumbling from her mouth in a rush.
The man chuckled. “All in good time, my friend.” He suddenly became serious. “But look around you. How do you think you can live with this world? What about last time? Surely you won’t abandon it like you did previously. Yes, I know that too,” the man added, seeing Nat’s eyes widen in shock and her mouth opening in protest, “but all the same, this cannot be allowed to happen again. Too many worlds have been laid to desolation because of you. And you did nothing to try to fix it — you instead choose to run from your problems.
“You need to come with me. This is not a request. This is an order.”
Nat’s breathing suddenly quickened.
“And what if I don’t come with you?”
“I have orders, you see. If you should choose to resist, there will be consequences.” The man seemed completely expressionless. His eyebrows, his lips, his voice — he gave nothing away. Suddenly, Nat vaguely remembered a saying from another world: “The eyes are the windows to your soul.” She looked in the man’s glasses to see herself reflected in them, wide-eyed and bewildered. Her own eyes spoke of fear, yet defiance.
She wondered what his eyes were saying beneath his mirrored sunglasses.

535 words

Last edited by Blizzard_Wolf7 (March 10, 2022 02:34:25)

cutepie17

three very short stories:

Describe a time you helped someone:
She was diagnosed with a learning disability and that was it. No solicitude from anyone, no longing to help her out. I still remember her fiddling hands tangled in a knot and her eyes fixed on the petty stain of pulverized lead, helpless and lonely. I would never know how she felt, but at least I was the one who changed the feeling. Inhaling for a long second then exhaling, I let all the reluctant thoughts escape me. Slowly, I climbed out of my seat and took two hesitant steps towards her. I flinched when her head sharply shot up and disregarded the grey blemish on the floor. I offered a nervous smile, but it was not shared. She simply locked her sharp, brown eyes on mines, silently trying to figure me out. After an awkward moment, she nodded and I resumed my march towards her desk, my nails cutting into my palm from gripping the pencil so hard. Her little-heard, mellifluous voice sliced through the air as she greeted me. It was when I say the dimples stamped on her face that I knew I had made the right choice. It was time to help someone who needed help, in place of avoiding them like all the others. Taking a seat next to the quiet girl, I grabbed the math textbook and flipped to page 106. That’s when I saw it: the galaxy of intricate, tiny sketches running along the outline of the pages. I looked up to find the prodigious artist intensely analyzing my reaction; eyes wide, brows tied together, and hand covering my mouth, I couldn’t quite believe it. And I thought I was here to help her! In that moment, still utterly stunned by her talent, I told her that she must teach me how she managed to draw in such a way. She must. And that was the end of that.

Describe a time you felt nervous
The score was a blur of red and blue through the curtain of sweat on my face. And yet, I could sense by the way of the unnerving and tense silence that it was a close game. My arms and legs were quivering, and my head slowly baked in the heat of the gym. Thump. Thump. I bounced the ball twice. Thump. One more time. I stretched my right palm like an elastic and squeezed the gap between the fingers as I took three wobbly steps backward. Behind the glasses that sat crookedly on my nose, I noticed my coach’s harsh gaze with his lips tightly pinched, and immediately wished I hadn’t. All eyes were fixed on me. This was it. All those days with the sun burning white-hot overhead as I trained my hits. The mosquitoes in the midnight’s inky darkness eating away at my flesh as I longed to master the strength necessary for this sport. The flurries of rain ruthlessly slapping my skin as I repeated every step of my jump serve until I got it right. It all added up to this moment. There was no time to think. My shoulder opened up and arm extended back. The next thing I knew, a sharp sound shattered the stillness and echoed through the air as I made contact with the ball. And the ball went fast. To be quite honest, it all went fast. As swiftly as I had served, the ball had struck the opponent’s side. My teammates on the bench shot up like fireworks clapping their hands and congratulating me and the rest of us on the win. My countenance was still carved in an anxious frown from only a few seconds earlier when I had been praying I could get our team the point. I hadn’t even known we had won!

Describe a time you lost something
It was no mistake that I was pale as fires mastered by the night. Why today? Why now? I had thought. Any other day or time it would have been no problem to lose your pencil, but what thought to lose your lucky pencil on the day of your final math exam! I pushed back the irritating waterfall of short hair strands blocking my sight as I fiercely shook my head. For the eighth time in the last minute, I aggressively grasped my pencil case and zipped it open. I turned it upside down and let all the belongings fall out, not caring about the messy pile it had created on my desk. Small erasers, nearly run-out pens, and empty pencil lead containers. No lucky pencil. Flopping down onto the ground I scanned the floor for any sight of my pencil between the chairs and desks and stools that stood as an obstacle for my eyes. Still nothing. I frantically rushed to my backpack and let my hand wildly rummage through, but still did not the familiar touch of my smooth, blue pencil appear to save me from stressing. I had three minutes. I sighed as I walked over to the classroom to meet my teacher’s puzzled look but I shook my head and simply went back to my seat. It was over. I took up one of my friends’ offer of using one of their pencils but I knew it wouldn’t be the same. I knew there wouldn’t be the little dent my index finger had created at the tip after pressing so hard. I knew there wouldn’t be the spotless, white, unutilized eraser at the end. I knew all the memories over 3 years worth of test after test would not be there. But maybe that didn’t matter so much as I thought it did at the time. Perhaps it was time to let go.

thanks for reading <3 :)

Mali2424

SWC WEEKLY #1
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Link to Weekly

Poems (461)
Cacaphony
They keep still
No one dares to move
It tears through the rubble of memories
Dreams and tears mixed with debris
All crumbling down around them
Promises shattered
Crushed into pebbles
Everything in its wake destroyed
Exterminated
Everything dead or dying

Blackout
The Last Olympian - pg316 + 317
Shadows formed
Living darkness
Inlaid with obsidian and death
Blood of darkness
Radiated pure terror
Ignited nightmares
Secret fears
Only power and authority fleeing
Enemies fall
Terrible force
Separating friends
Sealing us in
Just us

Other
ABCB except for last stanza
Life over SWC
That’s what everyone says
Go to bed, Mali, get some sleep
And so that’s what Mali does

I come back in the morning
And see something alarming
we have gone from first to worst
In only a few hours

Cabins wars start at 12:01
Now it’s 7:15
People stayed up ‘till 12:01
To accomplish what some only dreamed

Beat fairy tales?
The best of the cabins?
Send us crying back to 15th?
We will retaliate like a wounded dragon
And y’all will be underneath

Slam Poem
So many unhappy feelings
So little happy ones
So many unhappy people
So little happy ones
So many lives lost
So little saved
So many things glossed over
So little truth

What kind of world do we live in?
Where there’s more hate than love
What kind of world do we live in?
When people just wait for miracles from above

How much time has passed?
Since the dice were rolled, our places cast
How much time has passed?
Since people started destroying our past

Glossing over facts and faces
Losing ourselves in other places
Soon there won’t be any traces
Of the lives we used to live

Soon no one will remember
How much we have sacrificed
Soon no one will remember
That their children paid the price

How many times must I repeat
It’s time to make a stand
How many times must I repeat
We need to take back our land

Our land
Our plans
No races should be banned
We will stand
Extend a helping hand

Violence cannot be tolerated
Peace is what we need
Peace
Liberty
Justice
For our rights, we will bleed

But we’ll stand strong
Sing our final song
And right the wrongs
That our ancestors made
We’ll aid
The people
Who can’t help themselves

We’ll aid the people
Who need us most
We’ll aid the people
Who were this close
To not making it out in time

We’ll rise up
To help our friends
We’ll rise up
To connect our ends
We’ll rise up
To right the wrongs
That ended songs
That were not even halfway done
Here comes the morning sun
To help us towards tomorrow

Haiku
Moans from the backseat
Are we there yet? They complain
You roll your eyes. “No!”

Essay (504)
Cucumbers are a widely-cultivated creeping vine plant that bears usually cylindrical fruits, which are used as vegetables, even though they’re technically fruits. Considered an annual plant, there are three main varieties of cucumber — slicing, pickling, and burpless/seedless — within which several cultivars have been created. The cucumber originates from South Asia, but now grows on most continents, as many types of cucumber are traded on the global market. In North America, the term wild cucumber refers to plants in the genera Echinocystis and Marah, though the two are not closely related.

The cucumber is a creeping vine that roots in the ground and grows up trellises or other supporting frames, wrapping around supports with thin, spiraling tendrils. The plant may also root in a soilless area, whereby it will grow along the ground instead of a structure. The vine has large leaves that form a canopy over the fruits. The typical shape of cucumber is roughly cylindrical, but elongated with tapered ends, and might be as large as 62 centimeters (24 in) long and 10 centimeters (4 in) in diameter. Cucumber fruits consist of 95% water. In botanical terms, the cucumber is classified as a pepo, a type of botanical berry with a hard outer rind and no internal divisions. However, much like tomatoes and squashes, it is often perceived, prepared, and eaten as a vegetable.

Cucumbers were found in India and they started to be cultivated over 3,000 years ago, it was spread throughout India, Ancient Greece, Rome, Europe, New World, and China. It then became the fourth most cultivated vegetable in the world. Cucumbers were very popular for a certain length of time until they were treated as bringers of disease. Christopher Columbus brought cucumbers to Haiti in 1494, where they were grown and distributed in the new world. In the 18th century cucumbers suddenly stopped being so popular when people started reporting that cucumbers and other vegetables were the cause of several diseases because it was not cooked and represented a big health risk

As you can see, cucumbers are very complex plants. They must receive partial credit for the creation of the best, most amazing thing of all time, the illustrious chickumbers. Cucumbers are a loved part of salads and other “vegetable” dishes, as well as part of some “healthy” smoothies. Cucumbers reduce the risk of cancer, support the brain, and lessen stress. Cucumbers have become a large part of skincare, used to soothe puffy eyes, as a skin toner, a facial mask, skin freshener, conditioning chlorine damaged hair, and so on. It's low in calories and fats which makes it a very good source of food for people who want to remain healthy and fit. The water in cucumbers is far more nutritious to drink than the ordinary water you drink every day. With the high amount of water in your body, you have a lesser chance of getting dehydrated. Cucumbers are an amazing fruit/vegetable/berry/other. They’re high in nutritional value and are a valuable resource.

Non-Fiction
Biography (513)
You may have thought racism ended after Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. came to the floor, but that was just a wave in the ocean. Alicia Garza is a Jew who identifies as queer. She is a co-founder of #blacklivesmatter along with Patrisse Cullors and Opal Tometi. Alicia Garza organizes protests about lots of things, including rights for domestic workers and stopping violence and hate against transgender and gender non-conforming people.

Alicia Garza was born Alicia Schwartz. She was born in 1981 on January 4th. For the first four years of her life, Alicia grew up with her mom and her mom’s twin brother. After that, she lived with her mother and stepfather in a multi-religious and multi-racial household. She had a brother, Joey, who is eight years younger than her. In 2002 Alicia graduated from UCSD with a degree in Anthropology and Sociology.

In 2018, Alicia Garza’s mother died. Later in 2020 Alicia Garza wrote and published a book: The Purpose Of Power: How We Come Together When We Fall Apart. Garza has written a book and many opinion pieces. She's also written articles and has a podcast called Lady Don't Take No.
Black lives matter began as just a hashtag. After George Zimmerman murdered Trayvon Martin, Alicia Garza decided to write a love letter to the black community using Facebook. The exact words she said were:

“We don’t deserve to be killed with impunity. We need to love ourselves and fight for a world where Black lives matter. Black people, I love you. I love us. We matter. Our lives matter.” -Alicia Garza, in her “Love Letter to Black Folks” (2013).

Patrisse Cullors, Garza’s friend, added the hashtag to #blacklivesmatter. During that time, Alicia had no clue what the hashtag meant or was. In her own words:

“I thought it was a pound sign!” Alicia Garza later said: “She broke down what hashtags are to me. And that's how #BlackLivesMatter was born.”

They later contacted Opal Tometi, another activist who focused on issues in immigration. Opal Tometi began posting #BlackLivesMatter on Twitter and Tumblr because she used and knew more about the internet (social media) than Alicia Garza or Patrisse Cullors. Opal Tometi created accounts on Twitter and Tumblr for their movement.

When Alicia first posted her series of love letters, she never thought it would become a movement. In 2020, seven years after her first letter, it did.

Alicia Garza has a tattoo on her chest. It says:
“Wrong is not my name
My name is my own my own my own
And I can’t tell who the sets things up like this
But I can tell you that from now on my resistance
My simple and daily and nightly self-determination
May very well cost you your life”

Alicia, Opal, and Patrisse started the movement, and now we need to see it through. Racism has gone on long enough. We shouldn’t have needed to start a movement. Generation Z and Generation Alpha have a lot of work to do, and this is just one step in a long trail.

How to Make Buttermilk Pancakes(412)
Whisk together in a bowl large enough to hold all ingredients:
1 ½ cups flour
3 tablespoons sugar
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
Baker’s tip: To minimize the number of dishes you need to wash, the only measuring cups you need are a ½ cup, a tablespoon, and a ½ teaspoon.

In another bowl, whisk together:
1 ½ cup buttermilk
3 tablespoons melted butter or vegetable oil
2 large eggs
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
Baker’s tip: I like to use a glass measuring cup for the wet ingredients, so I can measure the buttermilk in that and then add the rest of the ingredients.
Baker’s tip 2: It adds even more flavor to do a “heaping” ½ teaspoon of vanilla extract.
Baker’s tip 3: If you don’t have buttermilk, combine 1 ½ cups milk with 3 tablespoons of vinegar.

Add wet ingredients to dry ingredients and mix well. (Optional) Add any additional ingredients (e.g. blueberries, chocolate chips, etc) into the batter and stir.
Baker’s tip: If you’re using frozen blueberries in your pancakes, rinse them with warm water and pat dry with paper towels. This will keep the blueberries from remaining frozen after cooking.

Preheat a pan to medium heat. Once hot, spray with cooking spray to keep the pancakes from sticking.
Baker’s tip: To tell if a pan is hot, flick a few drops of water onto it. If the drops sizzle and evaporate, the pan is hot and ready to use.

Use about a ¼ of a cup of batter for each pancake. The amount of pancakes you can fit in the pan varies depending on pan size. Let the pancakes cook for 2 minutes on one side, or until the edges look firm and the edges of the batter are bubbling. Using a thin, flexible spatula, flip each pancake over. The already cooked side should be a golden brown to medium brown shade. Let the other side cook for two minutes, and then take the pancakes out of the pan and put them on a plate. Serve hot.

Topping ideas:
Syrup (put in microwaveable container and microwave for 10 seconds)
Whipped cream (you can substitute with whipped cream made with coconut milk if you’re lactose intolerant)
Lemon curd (amazing on blueberry pancakes)
Blueberry compote
Plain Yogurt
Sweet cream cheese

Pancake Flavor Ideas:
Blueberry
Chocolate chip
Chocolate chip + banana
Mango
Strawberry
Sweet cream cheese
Macadamia nut pancakes with coconut syrup on top

Script Writing
SILVIA walks into the restaurant. BRIAN stands up.
BRIAN
Hey, babe! You look gorgeous! Except… What’s up with your hair?

SILVIA flinches and shifts away from BRIAN.
SILVIA
That’s what you care about? Things have been hard at home lately. My parents- my parents are getting divorced.
BRIAN (distractedly)
Oh, cool. Sounds great. Look, do you want to go over to your house?

SILVIA follows his gaze and sees a beautiful girl about his age. She looks back at BRIAN and sees him wink at the girl.

SILVIA
Do you care about me at all? Or am I just an accessory?

BRIAN
Hold on, babe, not with people here. Don’t make a big scene.

BRIAN pulls Silvia over to a group of his friends.
DAVID
Ah, the only one of us not single! How’s it feel to be dating the hottest girl at school?

BRIAN
Amazing, actually.
BRIAN puts his arm around SILVIA
BRIAN
Stay here a moment, babe. I need to order a coffee.

BRIAN walks over to the counter and starts talking to the girl he was winking at earlier.

SILVIA rushes towards the door of the restaurant. BRIAN notices and catches her arm, spinning her around
BRIAN
Woah there, where do you think you’re going?
SILVIA
Out.
BRIAN
No, no, no. I need to look cool in front of these guys! And make that girl jealous.
SILVIA
Aren’t we together? You’re just going to flirt with her?

SILVIA tries to yank her arm out of BRIAN’S grip.
BRIAN
It’s not like you care, right? Ice queen and all?
SILVIA
Is that really what you think? That I don’t have feelings?
BRIAN
I mean, yeah. You don’t care about anything. That’s why I date you, you know. I get to have a hot girl and she doesn’t care about the people on the side.
SILVIA
There are people on the side?
BRIAN
Come on, you don’t really care, right?
SYLVIA
Of course, I do! We’re a couple! You can’t just hook up with random people when I’m right here! You think I don’t feel things? This is in self-defense! I used to be the happiest, most bouncy person anyone could ever imagine! But then you came along and ruined it. I bet you don’t even remember! This is a performance, Brian Pryce. It’s. Not. Real.
BRIAN
Then I guess we weren’t real either.
SILVIA
We clearly weren’t! I loved you, Brian, but I guess the feeling wasn’t mutual.
BRIAN
Of course it wasn’t! I’m not an idiot. I know that!
SILVIA
Well, I didn’t! Someone gets hurt, you know. Every time you play with a living being someone gets hurt, and I don’t know who you think you are to assume my feelings!
BRIAN
It wasn’t my fault! You-
SILVIA
I don’t care about your excuses! I’m tired of this. I am not your toy to play with! I’m a living, breathing human and I deserve to be recognized as such. Now let go of me or I swear to god I will kill you, Brian Pryce. No one will find your *stupid* body.

BRIAN doesn’t let go of SILVIA’S arm.
BRIAN
You couldn’t hurt a fly! Besides, my friends won’t let you.
SYLVIA tackles BRIAN. They fight for a few seconds before the BARISTA notices.
BARISTA
Alright, break it up, you two! Stop or I’m calling the cops!

SILVIA and BRIAN stop fighting. SILVIA storms out of the café, and BRIAN walks back towards his friends.

BRIAN
Wow, guys. She’s crazy.

RAJVEER
Did you actually cheat on her?
BRIAN
Well, I-
NATHAN
Did you or did you not?
BRIAN
Yeah, but-
AEDEN
Not cool, dude.

BRIAN’S FRIENDS leave. BRIAN stands there for a minute, then walks over to the other girl.
BRIAN
Hey there, gorgeous.
GIRL
I heard all of that.
BRIAN
All of what, sweetcakes?
GIRL
I can’t believe you’d cheat on your girlfriend.
BRIAN
Come on, babe, it’s not that bad.
The GIRL gets up and leaves. BRIAN scoffs and looks around the café. One by one, each customer leaves until it’s just him and the BARISTA. BRIAN walks over to her.
BRIAN
That went well, am I right?

BARISTA
I feel so bad. Bless your heart, dear, now move your *butt* somewhere else.
BRIAN
Come on, sweetheart. You’ve got to see something in me.
BARISTA
You know what, there is something I like about you. Your acting skills.
BRAIN
I don’t act, but thanks anyway.
BARISTA
Well, you’re doing a great job of acting like an *idiot*.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Hope you enjoyed it!

MoonlitSeas

Weekly #1 - Moonlit

POETRY

Dew Drops - Haiku

Tiny sparkling stars
Twinkling in the morning light
The dew drops shine bright

Cactus - Haiku

Prickly yet pretty,
Desert dry, yet always moist,
Delicate yet sharp

Untitled-1 - Limerick

What could have been a glorious tale,
Turned quickly dreary to no avail,
For Procrastination,
The stalling sensation,
In writer’s poetry it shall prevail

Hope - Narrative

Hope is a spark,
Quickly snuffed out,
Yet what could we be,
If each child spoke out?

Once fought with sticks,
Now bombs rain like water,
Down to the streets,
The children to slaughter,
,
This race is violent,
Destructive and cruel,
But what could we be,
If violence wasn’t a tool?

The future is dreary,
Yet could it be bright?
If hope spread like wildfire,
The children’s delight

Sleep - Pantoum

The sky is alight,
The stars shine above,
Twinkling tonight,
The peace of the dove

The stars shine above,
Tonight I will sleep,
The peace of the dove,
Silent, not a peep

Tonight I will sleep,
In dreamful bliss,
Silent, not a peep,
Nothing amiss

In dreamful bliss,
Twinkling tonight,
Nothing amiss,
The sky is alight

Time - Narrative?

A sweet innocent girl,
A great big world,
Her fate undecided,
A dream free to be

Yet as she grows older,
That dream left behind,
Left behind to the cruel,
The cruel grip of time

The fate of a child,
A child so bright,
Yet still undecided,
A captive of time

Silence - Found Poem (Lines taken from Of Mice and Men)

His voice trailed off
As footsteps died away
Leaving him in thought
The light cast astray

It came out of the night
And invaded the room
Not a good soul in sight
The silence still loomed

Under the light
They played cards by day
But out of the night
Came not a deck to play

ESSAY

While plastic bags are undeniably useful, they are neither essential nor irreplaceable, and they are exponentially more harmful to the environment than beneficial to humans. Approximately 500 billion plastic bags are used annually around the world, and while they are recyclable, the vast majority find their way into landfills, and around ten percent of all plastic bags end up in the oceans. That’s about fifty million additional plastic bags that pollute the ocean each year. Plastic bag manufacturers and their supporters often argue that banning plastic bags will lead to job loss due to a loss of business and point out the upfront cost of plastic bags. However, this unemployment can be accounted for by the increase of business for reusable bag manufacturers, and given that stores include the price of plastic bags in their prices, customers would arguably save money if plastic bags were prohibited. Plastic bags should be banned because they are extraordinarily damaging to the environment and an enormous danger to animals, in particular marine life.

As humanity continues to discard plastic bags into the ocean, marine life continues to mistake the inedible plastic for food. One study showed every baby sea turtle examined had plastic trapped in it’s stomach. The effects of ingesting plastic are catastrophic. Marine animals that mistake plastic for nourishment frequently die of starvation as a result of plastic filling their stomachs. In addition, plastic contained in their stomachs can lead to supplementary effects such as gastrointestinal perforation, which is essentially a hole that travels all the way through a stomach, small intestine, or large bowel, usually caused by disease or a wound. This is not only excruciatingly painful, but almost inevitably fatal. Marine life can also become entangled in plastic bags, leaving them with a reduced ability to move, which can cause drowning, starvation, and suffocation. Trapped animals are also easy prey for predators in their vulnerable state. In relation to gastrointestinal perforation, plastic bags can be a popular destination for harmful microbes, leading to infections and diseases. Regardless of the uses of plastic bags, there is no denying that plastic is fatal to over 100,000 marine animals annually.

Despite the protests of plastic bag manufacturers, it is imperative that plastic bags be banned in order to preserve our ocean’s marine life. Yes, there may be some unfortunate short term shock effects. However, in the light of the tragedy inflicted upon other creatures every day, it remains essential that humanity works to eliminate this devastating situation. Not only must the use of these plastic atrocities be curbed, but the people of the world must work to cleanse the oceans of this pollution. Over 80% of the sea’s surface is currently polluted by plastic waste. Countless organizations are working to eliminate this mess, but progress is undoubtedly limited as plastic contaminates continue to find their way to the oceans. In time, humanity must learn to find more sustainable substitutes for potentially polluting waste, and that as that time approaches, banning plastic bags remains one step in the right direction.

Sources:
https://www.factorydirectpromos.com/blog/pros-and-cons-of-a-plastic-bag-ban/
https://www.condorferries.co.uk/plastic-in-the-ocean-statistics

SCRIPTWRITING
(Note: Ahhhh, so this was a bit tricky, given that a huge majority of might writing is either poetry, fantasy (or dystopian with fantasy elements), or too short for this purpose. So, let’s hope that whoever is running this fictional play has some good lighting effects cause this is going to heavily rely on them xD Also, I was looking for something somewhat comprehensible out of context that also has a decent amount of dialogue, so this is a bit old. Try not to cringe too much xD)

–
Curtain opens

LUCY and ITZAL are fields of grass. In front of them lies a rocky cliff, sparsely covered with moss, and crashing waves below. The back of the theater is lit up blue. Behind them are extremely tall and modern skyscrapers, enormous bridges and peaceful canals.

LUCY
Where are we?

LUCY looks around and gasps with wonder.

ITZAL
ITZAL takes her hand, eyes on the scene around him. He lingers on the skyscrapers, bridges, canals, and the ocean. He gives her a knowing grin.

Welcome (pauses dramatically) to Atlantis.

LUCY
LUCY follows his gaze as he looks around at their surroundings, then turns her head to look at the scene behind them. She shifts her gaze to the back of the theater, and her eyes go wide.

We’re underwater?!?!

SHARK runs across the back of the theater.

LUCY attempts to stifle a small scream.

ITZAL laughs in an amused way.

ITZAL

Of course. How do you think no one’s ever found this place?

ITZAL smiles

By the way, my name's Itzal.

LUCY

I’m Lucy.

LUCY runs over to the edge of the stage (the cliff) and bends down, running her hands over it.

FISH jumps up from behind the waves set in front of the stage and ducks back down.

BIRD SHAPED FLASHLIGHT LIGHTS run over the ceiling.

LUCY looks up, eyes following it’s path across the ceiling.

How…

ITZAL walks over to sit down beside her and follows her line of sight to the birds.

ITZAL

I don’t know. Just the magic of Atlantis I guess. The entire island is enclosed by a dome. A long time ago, two rulers cast a dome around it and sunk it into the ocean.

LUCY sits down.

LUCY

Two?

ITZAL sits down beside her.

ITZAL

For two worlds. Earth and Atlantis.

LUCY

But Atlantis is a city!

ITZAL laughs.

ITZAL

The city was named by humans. They named it after the world it leads to, Atlantis. It’s a gateway city, a place made as a pathway between worlds.

LUCY glances back at the skyscrapers behind them.

LUCY

What’s so important that we had to come here? It’s beautiful and everything, but why?

ITZAL sighs. When he speaks, his face shifts to a more serious expression and his voice becomes slightly deeper.

ITZAL

My father is coming. He’s got an army. They’re coming to invade Earth, to take it over and make it a slave world. I tried to ask him why, but he told me to mind my own business and leave ruling the world to him.

ITZAL laughs bitterly.

LUCY

Wait. You’re a prince!? Where’s your crown?

ITZAL

Yeah, I’m a prince. But I don’t have a crown.

ITZAL smiles for a moment before quickly returning to his more serious face.

Or at least I was. Before he threw me off the Edge when I tried to get him to call it off.

LUCY opens her mouth to ask him what the Edge is.

Atlantis is like flat earth. Go too far, and you’ll fall off the edge. Or your father can throw you off. For asking one. Simple. Question.

LUCY

What a temper…

LUCY and ITZAL sit in silence for a few moments.

ITZAL stands up and offers her his hand.

ITZAL

Let’s go see the city. Might as well do something while we’re waiting for my delightful father to arrive.

LUCY takes his hand and stands up.

LUCY

Tell me about Atlantis.

ITZAL glances at her.

ITZAL and LUCY walk towards the left edge of the stage.

ITZAL

The world? Or the city?

LUCY shrugs and smiles.

LUCY

Either. First the city. What was this place? Other than a gateway.

ITZAL

A connection between the two worlds. Not just physically. People from each world could meet, and learn from each other. Through those people, both worlds were able to share accomplishments and prosper together. It was the one truly peaceful place in both worlds. Humans fight among each other. Atlantians do the same…

LUCY and ITZAL slowly walk over the stage, taking their time as ITZAL talks. They first go to the left corner, then back, the finally to the back right corner. By the time they reach the edge, ITZAL is finished talking and the curtain slowly closes.
–

NON-FI WRITING

Somewhat Persuasive?

She’d been sick all night, but she still had to go on. That, she was certain of. So what if she’d barely gotten any sleep after waking up numerous times during the night? So what if she could barely concentrate on anything beyond the throbbing of her own head. The show must go on. Today was the day of the science fair, the moment she and her partner had been working towards for weeks. Besides, everyone was already sick as it was. In fact, they were probably the ones who had gotten her sick to begin with. Sure, the ethics of the situation were questionable at best. It wasn’t like she had a choice though.
As she rolled out of bed with a groan, she reminded herself that no matter how she felt, she couldn’t leave her partner to attempt to present their topic on her own. That would be disastrous. She wasn’t convinced her partner knew the material well enough to explain it and answer questions thoroughly while staring at the notes, let alone in a somewhat interactive presentation. After all, she’d done most of the work for their project, although she’d never put it that plainly in front of her partner. If she was being honest with herself, she would have been better off working alone or with one of her classmates that could come closer to matching her academic talents, and therefore contributing to the project. She knows exactly how that sounds, but she also knows that it’s true. It’s not like it’s her fault.
She stumbled downstairs, and got herself a glass of water. As she took a sip, fought to hide her grimace. Not only was she sick and overtired, but also dehydrated. Could this get any worse? With a sigh, she reached over to grab herself a banana. She peeled it back, then took a bite. Eww. Overripe. Or maybe it was just her dehydrated taste buds. As she heard footsteps tapping their way down the stairs, she tried to pull herself together. Her younger sister walked over to the refrigerator and got out the leftover smoothie from yesterday. She followed her sister in pouring herself a glass, and as she realized how much her own nerves must be affecting her, she tried to calm down. As she focused on her breathing, she reminded herself, I can do this. I have to do this.

Narrative/Sort of a Travel guide thing?

The Velocicoaster was one of the most thrilling roller coasters I have ever been on, next to The Hulk. Both can be found at Universal Studios, Orlando, Florida. The Velocicoaster first caught my eye as I was walking through the park with my family the first night of our stay at a Universal Hotel. We had just spent a week at a Disney Resort, and while Disney is perhaps a bit more geared toward younger children, their experience was also much more pleasant from my observations. As we were walking through the Jurassic World segment of the theme park, I saw the twisting and turning loops of the roller coaster. Of course it looked slightly terrifying, but also super thrilling. As soon as I saw it, I knew I had to try it.
The next morning, shortly after we arrived and had ridden a few Harry Potter rides (Universal Studio’s 4D sort of rides are phenomenal), I dragged my dad off to wait in line for the Velocicoaster. The wait was a little less than an hour, but the time seemed to fly by as we watched the people soar above us, their screams and shouts of joy filling our ears. Finally, after dropping off all of our loose possessions in a locker and passing through a metal detector (they really do take the no loose objects rule seriously), we were almost to the front of the line. Then, at long last, we were boarding the roller coaster. I was a little scared from anticipation, but also super excited. Next to me, I heard my dad ask why he ever agreed to it.
Finally, we were off. We sped to the top of the first hill, and just before we tipped over the edge, I heard my dad swearing. We zoomed down, then around, upside down, sideways, every direction. At some points, the track beneath us would propel us forward, pushing us to faster speeds. The technology behind it was truly incredible. I had to admit that Universal’s advertisements were accurate, it truly did feel like we were flying around being chased by something. While the entire roller coaster was exhilarating, the highlight was arguably the very end, where the track twisted upside down, held us there, over water, for a moment, then flipped back around. Despite the restraints holding us in place, it felt like we could actually fall. The Velocicoaster was the most exhilarating roller coaster I’ve ever had the pleasure of riding.

charliesunset

Weekly #1: Different Types of Writing
By Arli
Total: 2889 Words

Part 1: Poetry: 449 Words
Haiku: 11
the sky shattering
screaming, clamoring, shouting
and then it’s all over

Minute Poetry: 53
Once in the middle of the night
Flooded with light
We broke the sky
Watched the clouds cry

Sprinted with the wind’s frigid bite
The world went white
Seconds ticked by
Watched the leaves fly

The silent scared songbirds took flight
On their own fight
As our fire died
Our threads were tied

Pantoum: 244
You left months ago, but you should see
The night here is brighter than the day
You saw through those journeys, you and me
During the daytime, the lights here lay

The night here is brighter than the day
If you’d ever visit, you would know
During the daytime, the lights here lay
You’d think at sunset they start to glow

If you’d ever visit, you would know
That the sunset is only a view
You’d think at sunset they start to glow
But when the sky turns to midnight blue

Here the sunset is only a view
As the dull city lights flicker on
But when the sky’s turned to midnight blue
The second you think that the light’s gone

As the dull city lights flicker on
They would tell you that there’s nothing here
The second you think that the light’s gone
Somehow for a moment the clouds clear

They would tell you that there’s nothing here
As the stars flood their light through their trees
Somehow for a moment the clouds clear
As flowers are planted, bound to freeze

As the stars flood their light through their trees
I close my eyes to see you smile
As flowers are planted, bound to freeze
I realize that it’s been a while

I close my eyes to see you smile
You left months ago, but you should see
I realize that it’s been a while
You saw on those journeys, you and me

Free Verse: 97
The petals of the light open
The numbers flutter
It’s 4:11 in the morning

And I open the window
Just a crack
Enough to see something
Whatever that could be

A butterfly alone
In the night
No longer home
No longer knowing
Searching for the cream-white sun
Long gone over the cruel sharp horizon

A lonely butterfly
Gives up hope
And swoops down into the marshy grasses
Doesn’t look back from the ocean

It had yellow wings with tiny dots
Looked young but it was not
I will never see it again
Nothing I can do

Acrostic: 44
With the last of the sunlight hope never dies
Rises in hundreds of bluelight-flooded eyes
In solidarity the hundreds put down words
Thinking, dreaming of glory set alight
Each word, each daily set in stone while
Realistic Fiction plans its plans of
SWC domination

Part 2: Essays: 504 Words
July 6, 2021: a day that will go down in history among the frequenters of Scratch Writing Camp. The day they woke up, checked the Main Cabin, and noticed that everything looked different. The day everyone panicked. The day the system of three co-leaders adding words together in one big cabin became history. After that day, a lot had to change, and planning for the November 2021 session was heavily focused on adapting to the changes of the previous session’s studio update. One route seemed to prevail, and it was the system of creating three separate word count studios. This is no accident–establishing word count studios in SWC is the best way to give leaders experience, campers interaction, and maintain the honor system.
12 out of the 15 currently running studios in the March 2022 session of SWC use the word count studio system to track their campers’ words and in-cabin currency. This is highly beneficial to the leaders, who are each assigned about a third of their cabins’ campers to keep track of and encourage. Each has an opportunity to equally help out with adding words, which provides experience for (co)leaders who want to apply for a higher position later on. With approximately 36% of Scratch users located in the United States, being a co-leader in a different timezone can be a challenge–but separate word count studios can also give each (co)leader an opportunity to add words separately. These studios are not only beneficial to leaders but to campers–each camper can connect with a leader and go to them for questions and encouragement. As someone who has been a camper in SWC 3 times, I know that connecting with your leader is a great feeling, and word count studios can give a camper an opportunity to do just that. When campers feel motivated by their leaders, they are more likely to channel their motivation into helping their cabin rise to the top.
It’s also noteworthy that word count studios, as they are managed by (co)leaders, help to uphold the honor system that Scratch Writing Camp relies on. Another proposed system of counting words, each camper adding words by themselves in a megathread, faces the issue of campers potentially disobeying the honor system and adding words that they did not write. When a leader checks each word addition before adding it, they can ensure that the addition is realistic and that necessary proof is provided. The honor system not only allows in-cabin competition to run smoothly, but it gives campers an opportunity to truly reach their word goal and be motivated to write, setting them, especially newer campers, up for a brilliant SWC experience–the brilliance that SWC frequenters can confirm.
Between campers, leaders, words, currency, competitions, and the relationship between it all, word count studios are a great way to keep each important part of SWC in check. From first-time campers to longtime SWC veterans, everyone can benefit from the use of word count studios–and especially the concept of SWC itself.

Part 3: Script Writing: 1034 Words
Original Writing from November 2021 - 816 words (not part of weekly)
One day passes. That day becomes a week, and then a month, and the nights have become dark. So have the days. The rain beats down into the sand as it turns to mud. Rivers flow through the dystopia for the first time. The young children jump in them until their mothers reprimand them.
My path has been washed away, now just a couple of sprinkles. I try to navigate my way to Academy, but one day, I fail.
And I keep seeing the girl. She seems like a good friend- always smiling, always happy.
That day, something interesting happens.
The teacher reprimands me. She then drags me into her office, and I worry that I’m about to get suspended. Instead, she pulls out the Dystopian Dictionary.
It’s torn. The cover is broken; the back is nowhere to be seen. Scribbles are thrown onto each page, and stains line its spine.
My eyes widen.
“It appears, young lady, that this horrific deed was done by one Pineappian. Do you know anything about this?”
I’m speechless. My mouth hangs open, and I try to say something, but my vision flickers. The rebellion is real. This is happening.
I’m caught between three worlds. Andrea’s world of rebellion, and the mysterious world of the unnamed girl, and Academy. And between these three worlds, there is no place for not knowing what to do, which makes me realize that I have to choose one.
“That’s… wow.”
“So I take that as a no.”
“Not a thing. I just… can’t believe it. What can I do?”
“Oh, Dystopain.” She sighs and laughs. “You pressure yourself so much. You’re fourteen, right?”
“I just turned fifteen.”
“Congratulations. You, therefore, are supposed to be having the time of your life.”
“In a dark dystopia?”
“Your first two siblings aren’t so bright as you, young lady. You are going to be the next ruler.”
My vision flickers again. “Oh. Thank you.”
I’m going to be the next ruler.
A dull joy floods me. It scrapes hard against my heart, but my mind takes it. This can’t quite be a guarantee, can it? She must be wrong. And I don’t want to inherit this world.
But maybe I’ll be famous. Maybe I’ll save this dystopia.
A tornado of thoughts spins through my mind as I page through the destroyed book. The handwriting looks familiar, but I know it’s not Andrea’s.
“So is there anything I can do?”
“Tell us about rebellion. And stay true to yourself.”
What?

I don’t see the unnamed girl again for a week. I do see a girl who looks like her, but older- maybe seventeen or eighteen. Her face is pale, filled with fear- not passionate like the other girl’s- and it takes me a moment to realize that they must be sisters. They have the same hair.
When I do see her, she’s with the older girl and two others our age, and her eyes are filled with the shadows of terrors.
“Hi.”
“Oh. Hey.” She rushes along, carrying her books.
“I haven’t seen you in quite a while.”
She doesn’t get a chance to respond- the other girls rush her along, and one of them glares back at me, with pure hate in her eyes. And I’m sure of one thing:
That one girl is part of the rebellion.
Something here is extraordinarily wrong, something that my brain takes a moment to connect. I stare at the first girl- her wavy hair, the perfect shade of copper, tied into a ponytail like mine with a yellow hair tie.
Yellow?

It’s hard to focus in Academy, even though the teacher lets us do something unusual and fun- maths. We do maths once or twice a quarter, and it’s quite a treat. She gives us a packet of problems, and we meticulously scrape our pencils over them. It’s a Saturday, and we have no Academy on Sundays. Everyone, even me, is vibrating with excitement.
But mine is different. I need to solve this mystery- for the dystopia. For home.
After what happened to my best friend, it’s strange to call it home.
But it is, I think.
Yellow hair tie. Suspicion. Rebellion.
Yellow hair tie. Rebellion.
Yellow hair tie.
Yellow… hair tie.
Yellow.
Something is important about the color yellow.
It’s the color of the sun. It’s the color of the First Academy building, for some bizarre reason. And it’s the color of the teacher’s hair- a precise sunflower yellow. Almost like the girl’s, but lighter.
“Dystopain.” She snaps her fingers. “Focus on your maths.”
“Okay.”
I can’t bring myself to obey the order, which is also rare.

On Sunday, I walk to the edge of the dystopia and look out over the border. Guards watch me intently.
“I’m just familiarizing myself with it,” I say.
Part of it feels like a lie, but I know that I’d never betray myself.
Standing by herself as her maroon umbrella is splattered with ferocious rain, DYSTOPAIN watches small rivers flow across the sand beneath her. A YOUNG CHILD several feet ahead leaps in the puddles with a navy umbrella.

Script adaptation
The stage darkens, then a dusty and embellished room appears. TEACHER sits tall in her dark red chair, a stern and lifeless expression on her face. DYSTOPAIN slowly strides in, holding her head high despite the concern in her eyes. She looks down to see a torn and weathered dictionary placed upon the desk as her face fills with shock.

TEACHER
(unaware) It appears, young lady, that this horrific deed was done by a…

TEACHER flips through the dictionary, looking for the name of the perpetrator. Her eyes narrow as she finds the name scrawled down.

TEACHER
Pineappain. (pause) Do you happen to know anything about this situation?

DYSTOPAIN, speechless, sits down in one of the embellished red chairs on the other side of the desk. TEACHER pushes the dictionary forward, and DYSTOPAIN flips to the first page, her expression unchanging.

DYSTOPAIN
(quietly) That’s… wow.

TEACHER
So I take that as a no?

DYSTOPAIN
I… I know nothing. I… can’t believe it… Teacher, is there anything I can do?

TEACHER laughs, looking DYSTOPAIN in the eyes. DYSTOPAIN draws back.

TEACHER
Oh, Dystopain. (sighing) You, young lady, you pressure yourself far too much. You’re… fourteen, correct?

DYSTOPAIN
I just turned fifteen.

TEACHER
When?

DYSTOPAIN
Last month.

TEACHER
Congratulations, young lady. You, therefore, are supposed to be having the time of your life.

DYSTOPAIN hesitates, reluctant to open up. TEACHER leans forward with her hands pressed upon the dictionary, pushing up her glasses.

DYSTOPAIN
(With a sudden burst of impulsive energy) In a dark dystopia?

TEACHER
(unwavering) Your two older siblings, they are not nearly as bright as you. Even if you consider this, say, a dark dystopia, you are filled with potential. In fact, in my humble opinion, you are going to be the next ruler.

As her mouth falls open, DYSTOPAIN pulls back again, glancing up and then quickly down. She smooths her skirt, speechless. She then reaches for the dictionary, which TEACHER hands to her without hesitation, and pages through.

DYSTOPAIN
Is there anything I can do, about the rebellion?

TEACHER
Tell us if you see anything. And always stay true to yourself. I trust you, Dystopain.

TEACHER mysteriously stands up and leaves the room, leaving DYSTOPAIN to ponder the latest revelations. She leans her head backward, sighs painfully, and brushes her hands over the dictionary. The stage dims, then brightens to reveal a dusty and mysterious street, where DYSTOPAIN walks behind JUNE. Upon seeing JUNE, DYSTOPAIN rushes ahead.

DYSTOPAIN
(clearing her throat) Excuse me. Have you recently seen–

JUNE steps away from DYSTOPAIN.

DYSTOPAIN
(wistfully) A girl with wavy strawberry-blonde hair, distinctive freckles, maybe 5’5 or 5’6?

JUNE
(anxiously) Um–um–no trace of her. That is, I have to say, rather specific. Have a–a great day!

JUNE sprints offstage as DYSTOPAIN walks back, her face darkened and pointed straight down. The stage dims again and brightens to reveal the Third Academy, standing tall in the faint sunlight. DYSTOPAIN stands a few feet behind JUNE, PINEAPPAIN, MARSHA, and ALEXIS. PINEAPPAIN looks back to see DYSTOPAIN, with a hostile and terrified expression.

DYSTOPAIN
(warmly) Hi–I haven’t seen you in a while…

PINEAPPAIN
(anxiously) Hey. I have to go, sorry. See you later.

JUNE, MARSHA, and ALEXIS pull PINEAPPAIN along. MARSHA glares back at DYSTOPAIN hatefully.

MARSHA
Don’t be hanging around my sister anymore, kid.

DYSTOPAIN stands still as ALEXIS and PINEAPPAIN rush offstage, followed by JUNE and finally MARSHA. DYSTOPAIN tries to observe the girls from onstage as CASSANDRA jogs onstage from behind, wearing similar red-hued attire to DYSTOPAIN.

CASSANDRA
Dystopain! We’re doing maths today!

The background changes to reveal a classroom in which CASSANDRA ushers DYSTOPAIN into her seat.

TEACHER
(with a smile) Greetings, Dystopain. Please start on today’s maths packet.

Pencils scratch all around as DYSTOPAIN, in the middle of the classroom, glances down at her desk. Holding a pencil and brushing her fingers over the paper, she ponders what she’s just learned.

DYSTOPAIN
(under her breath) Yellow hair tie. Suspicion. Rebellion… Yellow hair tie. Rebellion… Yellow hair tie… Yellow… hair tie…

TEACHER
What’s that, young lady?

DYSTOPAIN
(ignoring TEACHER) The sun, the First Academy building painted that dusty old shade of cream yellow… and the teacher’s hair, that sunflower yellow just like the girl’s… although it would certainly be nice to know her name.

TEACHER approaches DYSTOPAIN’s desk.

TEACHER
Is something wrong?

DYSTOPAIN
(out loud) N–nothing.

TEACHER
Okay, then, Dystopain. Please focus on your maths.

CASSANDRA leans forward from the seat behind Dystopain.

CASSANDRA
You’re so lucky that the teacher actually likes you.

DYSTOPAIN blushes.

DYSTOPAIN
(to TEACHER) Excuse me, Teacher, could I please–could I please use the restroom?

TEACHER
Yes, but please be quick.

CASSANDRA and TEACHER stare after DYSTOPAIN as she slips out the door.

DYSTOPAIN rushes down the stairs and out of the building, being careful to dodge the windows. She carefully steps over a small creek created by the rain and walks to the border, where a dusty haze covers everything beyond the line. A GUARD watches DYSTOPAIN intently and approaches her with a suspicious glare.

GUARD
Excuse me, ma’am, do you know where you’re going?

DYSTOPAIN
(anxiously) Well, sir–

The GUARD steps towards DYSTOPAIN but she slides back carefully, looking back as to not fall into the sand.

DYSTOPAIN
Listen. I am simply familiarizing myself with this here, this, um, dystopia.

The GUARD notices DYSTOPAIN’s outfit and steps back.

GUARD
My apologies, ma’am. Continue on. But… I would not classify this as a dystopia. It simply needs a reframe, a fresh set of minds. How old are you? You look young.

DYSTOPAIN
Fifteen.

The GUARD raises his eyebrows knowingly.

GUARD
You must be in school. You should be off, then. Keep studying.

DYSTOPAIN strolls away without a word, her head held high as usual. She thinks to herself about everything that has happened.

DYSTOPAIN
(to herself) I wasn’t lying. I am simply familiarizing myself with the… this place. I haven’t indicated a single sign of wanting to leave, now have I?…

Part 4: Non-fiction: 902 Words
Creative Non-fiction: 440
Two years minus four days ago, the world started spinning around. Two years minus four days ago was the day I found myself sitting on the indigo-grey carpet, watching the rain outside splattering onto the royal blue basketball court. I was probably devising a character of mine, one of the ones I still use because I can’t create a whole new world without them existing. I knew that we might be seeing the school play that day and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but I know we didn’t. We definitely didn’t.
So we sat in our homeroom, where you could step outside and see the whole world—or at least that’s how it felt. I heard the sound so many times—the bounce of the basketball into its hoop, kids shouting. Kids I barely knew then. But that was okay for me. We watched a video of trees and forests, of serene rivers nothing like the world that day. I couldn’t see it but maybe that meant I was drowning in the waves. Up and down, and up and back down.
And then we had an hour.
The rain continued to splatter the windows, with the grid patterns that made up their screens. I counted the amounts of kids who thought it was going to stop raining, and eventually it did but that didn’t matter. There was a pair of two friends laughing and talking and I joined them, and then the three of us were working to photoshop Shiba Inus and whatnot into pictures of each other, pictures that I still have. Each of us looks a little bit different now but you could still tell that we were the same people. I saved the pictures and kept them there and they will be there until I leave and they erase the files. And even then, I’ll send it to myself.
Then the bell rang, which was still a high and lilting bell, and I never heard it ring there again. I left a few things there, not knowing that my parents would have to go back to get them. And the next day we got the email, that we wouldn’t be coming back for some time.
It’s been two years minus four days since I was there. I don’t remember everything—snippets of the halls and the river flowing through the garden. But I don’t think I’ll ever forget watching from up there, seeing the tree with the leaves that four of us used to catch together. The tree that lost most of its leaves in the winter and the wind, and the tree that started it all.
Journalism/Article: 462
There is never an off-season of Scratch Writing Camp. Even in the long months after the session ends and the cabins have been torn into pieces of chaos, they still live on. These ‘long’ months are April, August, and December, right between sessions and in the midst of early planning. Still, the SWC community never takes time off–each of the twelve months of the year brings something new.
Let’s start at, well, the very end. Just after a session of SWC, everyone is disappointed yet excited–for results of the competitions that ensue during the triannual competition, and for cabin destruction. Once each cabin has drowned in its own flood of chaos, the campers wait, anxiously commenting in their cabins and their sibling groups, where closely allied cabins chat and play games like Fortunately/Unfortunately, brainstorming bustling scenarios that go back and forth. As the month winds down, a new era springs up–the era of leader planning.
With the new month–January, May, or September–comes a very special project, the one that potential leaders and co-leaders remix with their applications. Somewhere in the middle of the month, fifteen leaders (one for each of the fifteen future cabins) are chosen and then choose their co-leaders. In total, about forty-five applications (including those that were only for the co-leader position) are accepted. The team of typically three cabin leaders gets to work on the themes and activities to go on in their cabin, but outside of this, most of the campers are still waiting–waiting for the month when, for them, the real fun starts.
This month, depending on the time of year, is February, June, or October. On the first of the month, the camper signups are released, where prospecting participants fill out short forms to be admitted into the competition that is soon to ensue. During this month, each cabin, the Main Cabin (where points are added for each cabin), and extra studios like word count studios and sibling hangouts are set up, ready for the day that everyone waits for. Once midnight strikes in their timezone–March 1, July 1, or November 1–the session begins.
During SWC, the fifteen cabins gain points for daily and weekly activities, along with special events such as word wars (when two campers set a timer and see who can write more in a designated period) and cabin wars (when cabins send each other special challenges to be completed at a specific time. Everyone from (co)hosts to campers is given an opportunity to participate in the fun, writing towards the word goals they set and for the glory of the cabin to which they have been assigned. One cabin eventually prevails, but each has its wins–and, once you’ve become part of the community, participating is a win in itself.

Last edited by charliesunset (March 9, 2022 05:27:53)

CherriCookie

Fires burning bright
The golden tint in my eyes
The ashes fall down

Falling ashes burnt
Left within remains of home
Not ready to go

Bridges of victory
Ready to redeem myself
Crossing once again

-everIasting

Weekly #1

—

Poems - 300 words

Haikus:
Flights of stairs spiral up
Leading into the unknown
There's light at the end

Fields of flowers bloom
Providing a sense of hope
I breathe it all in

Hearts all full of love
Sharing their view of the world
Loving each other

Acrostics:
Symphonies ring out around me, reminding me of the very thing I can never have
Yesterday I knew nothing of this, but today I know it's my time
Maintaining this straight face on the outside, but the emotions are piling up inside
Processing this information can't be possible
Heart heavy, I take a couple steps forward, ready to meet my dreaded fate
Options are limited, the only thing I can do is comply
Nothing makes sense in this world anymore
Yet they say nothing ever does

Sleeping provides your brain time to process information
Lack of sleep can prevent your brain from properly doing its job
Even though you may not feel it, if you get too little sleep it will affect you greatly
Expectations will be set and you may not be able to meet them
Proper amount of rest instead of lack of rest provides more benefits

Tongue Twister:
The light shines bright as she writes during the night despite the polite knight she was meeting tonight

Free Verse:
Water trickles down the roof
Drop by drop
Falling gently on the pavement
One by one
It's like your sadness
It goes
Tear by tear
And eventually
There'll be no more
So the water won't have to
Drop
It won't have to
Fall
And there won't be any more
Tears

Etheree:
Water rushes down the nearby river
Sea creatures swim through the clear water
Skipping stones lay near the edges
The water slows farther down
It's just a small trickle
Moonlight shines throughout
On the other
Side, there is
Lots of
Light

—

Essay - 520 Words:

Do you typically daydream during class? Fidget uncontrollably while watching the minutes tick by slowly? School days usually consist of about 6 hours with 6+ subjects for middle to high schoolers. You've probably wished the school day was shorter by a couple hours every once in a while when you're in a particularly boring class. A shorter school day provides many different benefits including, more sleep, increased concentration during class, and more time to explore hobbies and other interests.

According to sleepfoundation.org, “sleep is an essential function.” Children aged 7-12 require 10-11 hours of sleep per day. Children around this age don't usually have a lot of homework to complete in the evenings but during the hours they spend at school, they exhaust themselves with physical activities. Thus, they need more sleep to regain enough energy for the next day. Shorter school days would even allow time for an afternoon nap should they need one. Teens aged 12-18 years old are recommended 8-9 hours of sleep per day although most people hardly reach 8. Once transitioning to middle and high school, the workload becomes a lot heavier and students will spend hours late at night trying to complete their assignments on time. Shorter school days would allow more time in the afternoons to complete school work so that they can get to bed earlier.

Another benefit of a shorter school day is increased concentration during the hours students are in class. Brain Balance states that the amount of time a 16 year old can focus is about 45 minutes. That's about the span of one period and we haven't even begun to mention the other 5 that occur throughout the day. Attention span can also decrease with lack of sleep as mentioned earlier. 16 is also closer to the older scale. If we move down to middle schoolers, evidence shows that these students can only focus for about 35 minutes or so.

Lastly but not least, shorter school days gives students opportunities to discover new passions and hobbies. Having something you enjoy doing can be beneficial to stress and help relieve it. Finding the one thing you love is exhilarating and it can open up so many new doors to your future. Even if school was just 1-2 hours shorter all the extra hours would add up. School can be tough sometimes but taking time to enjoy yourself is always a nice way to balance your life with school. Many students in universities today are pursuing the dreams they decided they wanted when they were younger. You could learn coding with the extra time which would help you advance and pick up information faster in university.

In conclusion, shorter school days are highly beneficial and provide multiple more benefits than a regular 6 hour school day. The idea of more sleep, and time to explore other new ideas would definitely make others look forward to each day just a little more. Teachers would also love it if all their students paid more attention in class and gave them the respect they deserve since they go through a lot as well.

—

Script Writing - 702 Words:

Curtains open to a sunny front yard where WILLOW is talking to FAY.

FAY
(upbeat with a childlike smile) Willow! (stumbles)

WILLOW
(turns around to look at FAY)

FAY
(still smiling) Come play with me!

WILLOW
(shakes head, pauses for a moment to think) Not right now, maybe later?

FAY was easily reminded of the past, just a couple wrong words was all it took to remind her of all the bad things that had happened just a little while ago.

WILLOW
(turns back around to lift nearby wood planks, sucks in a breath as she lifts another beam)

WILLOW'S and FAY'S parents had decided to build a shelter, their last hope for protection. War had been waging for almost a year now. The ruthless army The Agana were destroying whole nations as if it were nothing.

WILLOW
(muttering) Halfway there-

The wooden structure WILLOW is working on is only half built but this alone took days.

WILLOW
(dusts hands off before she lies down and closes eyes while watching the ‘clouds’)

A few moments pass . .

FAY
(bubbly) Willow willow! Look at me!

WILLOW
(sits up dizzily, eyes open quickly)

FAY
(runs around the half built structure without thinking much of it)

WILLOW
(scared, panicked) Sto-

Beams from the structure begin to crash without warning.

FAY
(stares wide-eyed at crashing beams) AHHHHHH (shrill scream)

WILLOW
(panicked, scrambling to her feet)

FAY
(goes silent all of a sudden)

The last beam crashes.

WILLOW
(chokes, sobbing) Fay!

She pushes aside cracked beams, searching for FAY.
A few moments later, she finds the body of her one and only sister.

WILLOW
(begging) Fay, answer me, Fay!

Fay's eyes stared upwards, unmoving.

WILLOW
No, no, no, no (quicky shakes head back and forth) this can't be happening, no no no
(lies next to FAY and begins to sob uncontrollably)

Curtains draw to a close while WILLOW and FAY are still on stage. Lights dim.
Curtains open once again. WILLOW is standing in a house.

One year later . .

WILLOW
(touches circular photo frame that's hung on the wall) Oh, fay . . . (single tear rolls down her face, her eyes become glassy as she stares at the picture of Fay that's hung on the wall.)

MOTHER
(calls loudly from the kitchen, room next door) Willow! Where are you? We need to get dinner ready, it's getting dark much earlier than it used to.

WILLOW'S mother uses things such as cooking to distract her from the death of her youngest daughter. The more she's focused on other stuff the less she thinks about it.

FATHER
Hey, can you get me some more coffee? (peeks out from behind the newspaper he's reading, only his glasses are visible from where WILLOW'S mother is standing.)

WILLOW
(calls loudly from hallway) Coming, just one more second.

WILLOW
(whispering to the frame) I wish you were here with us to enjoy life, you didn't deserve it . . I'm so sorry, I couldn't save you, it's all my fault. (slides to floor sobbing with regret.)

MOTHER
(hears willows sobs and comes running) Willow dear, are you okay? Do you need anything? Tea? Perhaps just some hot water? (glances over to see what she was looking at before she collapsed) Oh- (hugs willow and begins to shed small tears but quickly wipes them away to make sure Willow doesn't see them as well.)

FATHER
(looks up again to see if his wife has made any progress on getting more coffee. realizes she's gone and rushes out to the hallway to where he hears loud crying.)

WILLOW
(glances up to see her father standing, motions for him to join them.) I- I miss her (chokes out in between sobs)

The three lie together on the floor, taking time to mourn their lost daughter.

MOTHER
(alarm for the oven goes off, jumps up with surprise) That's the potatoes, come on everybody we need to eat, we can't lay here forever, Fay wouldn't want that.

WILLOW
(stands up, sighs) Coming mother.

FATHER
(follows behind the two, taking one last glance at his daughter before briskly walking towards the kitchen) You know what (pauses) you have enough on your shoulders, I'll get the coffee myself. Just point me in the right direction.

—

Non-Fiction - 831 Words

Organization - Tips:
Being organized comes naturally to some, and to others it makes just as much sense as a whale walking on land, which by the way, is equivalent to none. There are many methods to staying organized and a certain one may not always work for you and some may work better for you than others! I'll be going over a couple today for you to try out if you need help staying organized.

Tip #1 - Using a planner: Many schools around the world provide free planners for you to use so you don't always have to buy your on. Most students don't take advantage of these free resources and end up wasting a valuable tool that could've helped them. Planners are very useful for keeping track of any homework assignments, due dates, and big events! I usually write down any homework teachers assign right when I get it then I'll take a look at my planned once again the minute I get home to start working on it. It's been really useful this year and sometimes I'll find things on my planned I forgot was something I needed to do.

Tip #2 - Folders: Using folders are a great way to organize any extra paper you have laying around rather than just randomly stuffing it into every spare space your backpack has. I have two folders, one for ‘classwork’ and one for ‘important’ stuff. They're both different colors so I can easily differentiate them when I'm grabbing them quickly. It's a lot easier to know where everything is rather than just knowing it's either in your locker or backpack but not actually knowing exactly where.

Tip #3 - Notebooks and Binders: Having different colored notebooks for each subject that requires you to use a notebook makes it surprisingly easy to find where all your stuff is! Just like the folders. if you're in a hurry and just want to grab a specific notebook to take a quick flip through you can just open up your backpack and grab the colored notebook for the subject.

Tip #4 - Organizing Your Backpack: Organizing your backpack by height of items is really really useful. I can't stress how useful it's been to me, honestly, I would definitely recommend it. It's so much easier to find things based on their height and after a while you'll have memorized where everything is and it's a huge time saver.

Hope some of these tips helped you with your organization!

SWC Report - Journalism:
“Welcome back to SWC news daily, today we'll be talking about this new and upcoming story! Does this writing camp make children sleep deprived? Why do some people act so proud of it? Reporter Elle is here today at the camp to give her update on this story.”

“Elle here, I'm here at Scratch Writing Camp on a Sunday night at almost midnight and you can clearly see the majority of cabin lights are still up and running meaning that children are still working late at this hour. The wonderful Mythology cabin has invited me inside their cabin for the night to experience what these kids do each and every night of their stay here at SWC.” The reporter steps inside the dimly lit cabin and is immediately met with the sound of scratching pencils.
“Pencil sharpener now!”
“GO TO BED WHY ARE YOU UP”
“Let's goooo, almost there”
“As you can see, the minute I've stepped into the cabin I've already been bombarded with so many different phrases and things being said all at the same time.” The reporter walks deeper into the cabin, where the individual cabins are located. Some doors are wide open where more campers are writing away at their desks. Other doors are closed and light snoring can be heard from the already exhausted kids. Elle's voice turns into a hushed whisper as they walk along the corridor. “Thank god at least some kids are taking some much needed rest, it frankly isn't quite healthy to stay up this late at this age!” The reporter steps out of the cabin for a minute so she can talk at full volume for the viewers.
“According to polls and before and after summaries, this camp clearly provides quick improvements in all types of writing using their dailies, and weeklies which are focused on certain topics that the daily team writes up. Workshops taught by various leaders enhance the knowledge of the writers. The competitive aspect of this camp really pushes everyone to bring their a-game. It's an amazing community and really something I would encourage people to join if they're interested in improving they're writing, and willing to sacrifice a couple hours of sleep”
There's a sudden cheer as campers from Mythology run out of their cabin, carrying stacks of papers in their hands. A shout is heard somewhere in the crowd with the word “daily” and “procrastination.”
The reporter slides out from the scene with a quick wink and the screen is trampled by sleep deprived kids.

—

2353 words total

Discuss Scratch