Word War

The Clerlits and the Wodseer are at odds. They have always been, yet know that now they are worsening. Their bonds and breaking, treaties shattering, promises and decrees and diplomacies weak and barely strong enough to keep the peace. Their people are more at odds with each other than they have ever been before, and this is a simple fact. It has never been this bad. The heir of the Wodseer is tragically burdened. She has made a mistake, one that she regrets for life and will never stop regretting. The Mirlow, the son of the Lightbringer, the most important Mirlow of all, is angry. He is furious, fire taming and seething in his boiling blood, glass cracking in anger as gritted teeth make their way on his face. He cries out, and shouts, and glares daggers at the Heir. Their nations are at war. Their planets, their people are at war. A war that will seemingly never end. A war that will decimate thousands, beginning with two cousins of Filoso, the Sikkrews, and the human.

Word War 2:

Come on, come on! I was in such a rush. I can't believe I overslept! I would be late for school and I would get detention twice in a row. Then if that happens my parents would take my laptop away from me. I had to get on time.
I jump on my bike and pedal as fast as I can. The words are still going around in my head.
Come on, come on!
Surely slow and steady wins the

this is kinda weird since i'm the one who wrote the intro but whatever lol
includes some light-hearted maia slander :DDD
527 words!

The massive platinum doors creak open, rusty hinges squealing with age and neglect, the carved iron handle cold beneath your clenched fist. You step into what seems to be the lobby, tentative footsteps echoing on the dusty tile floor, scattered with bootprints. Walnut bookshelves line the walls behind the empty reception, stuffed to the brim with dusty-looking volumes and ancient statues. Light filters in through hidden skylights, bathing the barren foyer in a dappled glow. An engraved plaque on a nearby wall declares that the Fossils are to your left; and the Gallery to your right. Another sign next to the large marble staircase directs you up to the Archives; or down to the Stacks. You stand still, unwilling to disrupt the careful stagnance. Suddenly, four girls rush down the stairs, distress written across their faces, steps muffled against the thick sanguine carpet. They speak in hushed tones but cease when they see you, faint smiles beginning to creep across their faces. One of them, with wavy brown hair and a name tag that reads ‘Maia,’ steps up to you and holds out her hand. “Welcome to the Non-Fi Museum! I'm Maia, and these are Stormi, Jia, and Ollie! We're so excited to have you here; you're going to be the one to save our museum!” Before you can voice any of your questions, Stormi grabs you by the hand and pulls you into the museum.

The carpet is soft under your feet as you bound up the stairs, heart racing with adrenaline. In one hand, you hold your brown monstrosity of a trunk, bursting with books and clothing. Your other hand clutches the creamy white envelope given to you by Maia, the archivist. She seemed nice enough, though she seemed more interested in her book than in her campers. Still, the envelope she gave you seems to be important. You find a table with a bunch of letter openers and painstakingly tear it open, wincing as it tears. There has to be a better way to open envelopes, you think. One that doesn't involve the senseless tearing of paper.
Anyways, as you open the envelope, three things fall out. The first is a golden skeleton key, engraved with your name on it. A small paper tag hangs from it, and you have to squint to read it.
“Room #9. Go to the second floor, turn left at the Archives.”
You suppose that you better go and find your room. After all, you're going to be staying there for the next few weeks.
You're only two steps away from the table when you realize that you have no idea where you're going. Looking back, you can see that you forgot the other things that had fallen out of the envelope. You hastily stride back to take a closer look.
First, there is a map, thank goodness. It looks old, printed on that kind of old parchment that all the best ancient documents are published on. On it, you can see exactly how to get to your room from this table. A small red dot marks the Archives, with red arrows directing the exact path you have to take. You mentally thank your leaders and cos for making it so easy for you.
The last thing that fell out of the envelope seems to be… a credit card? Looking closer, you can see your name printed on it in shiny silver letters, as well as your room number and cabin. You're slightly confused, wondering why the museum would have both ancient maps and modern technology. However, you brush that thought aside and follow the instructions the map gave you.
After what seems like ages but was probably only a few minutes, you arrive in a hallway lined with doors. Each door has a number and a small wall sconce next to it, reminding you of a luxurious hotel. Number 9 is all the way at the end of the hallway, with a small table next to the door. On it is a small bowl filled with your favorite candy, and you smile. You pull out the skeleton key and carefully put it into the keyhole. You hear a click, and the door swings open, revealing your room.
Smiling, you step inside, marveling at how big the room looks from the inside. There is a king-sized bed with nightstands on either side, a desk with a laptop, and even your own bathroom. You push open a door and are amazed to find that you even have your own living room, complete with board games and overstuffed armchairs.

Weekly #3 (for Real-Fi ftw!)

Part 1 Song 1
441 Words
It’s a sad life. Quiet, peaceful, beautiful perhaps, but sad. You stand up, blond hair, blue dress, standing in front of a river, as gentle breeze blows your hair and dress around. You try to smile, but you just can’t, you’ve lost too much. Too many family,friends,neighbors. You stare at the beautiful woods and nod, but there's just one thing in your way, the river. You make a leap of faith over the river, but instead you land on a giant lily pad floating down the river. You start drifting away. Floating down the peaceful river, away from war, away from hunger. Far, far away you go. You drift and drift, you can’t help but smile, you can’t help but feel happy that you finally escaped. But, then, you get sad, thinking back to your home village before the war. All the great grand memories you had made with your friends, your family, they were all gone, you sat up, your smile quickly faded, replaced by tears. You don't notice where your going and something grabs the end of your lily pad and starts tugging. You look over, and see the people that invaded your village, and you get angry. You stand up, and start crying, “YOU!!” You point at them. “YOU are MONSTERS!!!” You scream you stand up balling your fist. But then you feel, a peaceful sense in the air, and the invaders do too. You turn around and you see all your family and friends that you lost. They weren't alive, they were peaceful spirits now. They grabbed one end of your lily pad, and just smiled. “We'll save you!” Your best friend said. And tug of war began. Of course, you knew that this was a stupid idea, since lily pads can be ripped unlike tug of war rope. The lily pad rips right in half and you fall into the river, sinking towards the bottom. You try to swim up scared, but you can't swim at all, you never learned how to. You try to scream, but underwater, that's impossible. You kick your legs in agony. But you just keep sinking and sinking and sinking. You hit the bottom of the river, you start crying, although it's not noticable since your underwater. You desperatly try, hoping your family and friends will save you, but you don't feel that feeling of peace and safety like you had when they were here. You black out and when you wake up, you can barely remember anything. Your with your family in friends, up in the clouds. You embrace in an hug, before you fall asleep in your grandmother's arms.

Part 1 Song 2
408 Words
You smile happily. Their is no war, their is only peace. War isn’t even a thing anymore. You sit in the middle of a forest and take a deep breath of fresh air. You seriously feel like a nap. A bunch of fairies flit an flutter around you, and some of them ride on butterflies and bees.
“It’s time!” One of the fairies says, and you lie down, and your transformation begins. You begin fading away into these little gold magical balls. Your not scared, you know it’s a natural part of life. The balls cluster and move around until it’s in the shape of a fairy. Poof! You are now a fairy. You made the decision to commit. You can no longer communicate with humans in any way shape or form. You are now a protector. You experiment a bit until you realize your powers are actually flower. You make the area beautiful covered in flowers. Then, you see one of your friends walking over. You want to go say hi, you aren’t fully accustomed to fairy rules yet, but all the other fairies hide. You almost fly over, but one of the other fairies grabs your arms and drags you into a bud of a flower.
“What were you thinking?” She asks.
“She was my friend,” I said,
“As a human,” The fairy replied, “Listen, I know your new to the whole fairy world, but you know that you don’t talk to any humans, even if they are your friends or family.” She says.
Your friend walks away and the fairies all come out of hiding. You go up into a bunch of trees above the forest. You talk to the fairies saying it was ridiculous.
“I never should have agreed to this!” I said, “I have family and friends!”
“Too bad!!” The Queen of the Fairies yelled, flying up to where you were.
A fairy snaps her fingers and then you start feeling sleepy, woozy, like you were gonna pass out. You didn’t know why you suddenly felt like this. But you suddenly passed out and fell onto the floor. Little did you know, that this would be the last time you had your memory. You didn’t know, that the fairy could erase anyone’s memory, with just a snap of her fingers.
After a few minutes you wake up with no memory. You sit up and look around the room, and ask everyone what happened….

*unfinished*

daily 3/20/22 - 626 words

thriller cabin story
Wind whips across the dark, roiling sea. Blue-grey waves swell beneath the small wooden boat you are sitting in, tossing it mercilessly. Lightning flashes, casting a pale light on the tips of the waves and outlining a jagged silhouette of an island in the distance. Cold rain spatters your skin, but you barely notice. You are almost there.

Thunder crashes. Wisps of fog drift along the surface of the sea. The boat docks. You climb out and gaze around at the beach. Fingers clasp your own, pulling you toward the center of the island.

As searing white lightning zigzags across the clouded sky, you see that you are standing before an enormous, crumbling mansion. What's more, the person who brought you here is actually three people. “Welcome,” they chorus, “to Thriller Island.”

continuation
The moment they greet you, the thunder vanishes, leaving behind an eerie, still silence. You reach out your hand to discover that it is still raining, only you can’t hear it at all, despite the fact that it is pouring. You edge backwards, wondering what you got yourself into, then glance behind you at the murky waves, lapping at the shore, and realize you are truly stuck here, whether you like it or not. Considering the fact that your rickety boat has vanished, you assume correctly that you won’t be permitted to leave until the end of camp. The thought of being trapped fills you with a sort of nervous excitement.

The figures simultaneously begin walking towards the mansion, beckoning for you to follow, but still remaining silent. Something about the island is bothering you, but you can’t quite place your finger on it. You linger by the shore for a few minutes longer, hoping that it won’t be pouring the entire time you stay at camp. The figures begin to look annoyed, so you sigh and follow them.

When approaching the mysterious house, you observe that it is even more decrepit than it appeared from afar. Unruly vines trail along the sides of the dilapidated, crumbling walls. A stone pries itself free from the wall and tumbles down the side of the building, landing with a crash - the first sound you’ve heard so far on this dreary island.

The figures reach, almost as one, to pull the door outwards, and it creaks as its rusty hinges struggle to open the door. It finally swings forward, revealing a room littered with cobwebs in every corner and lit with haunting chandeliers, which cast unnatural shadows throughout the place.

You suddenly realize what seemed wrong, and decide to voice your concern: “Whe- where is everyone?” you ask nervously. The sound echoes strangely in the room, bouncing back from the walls. The figures don’t reply; either they can’t hear you or they don’t want to listen. They simply lead you into another room, where, finally, you spot a few other campers, who appear as nervous as you do.

This room, although still sparsely decorated, appears to have a bit more furniture. Clearly someone made an effort to clean the place, unlike in the previous room. You note that the dust coating the floor has mostly been moved into a corner, and there are fewer cobwebs. The furniture, though,looks as though it had been left outside for too long, as it is all damp, soggy, and falling apart. All the couches seem to be torn in one place or another, and dirty water leaks through the ceiling in several places. When you move to sit on one of the moldy couches, one of the figures nudges you onwards, past the somewhat cozy-looking room, at least compared to everything else you had seen. The rest of the figures remain behind, while the figure who nudged you leads you towards a staircase, which creaks as you descend, further and further, down the seemingly endless path.

Finally, you emerge into a cavern, with the only source of light being a single window. The person smiles, waves, and exits the room. The closes the door behind you with a bang, and you hear the click of a lock turning in the door, sealing you in the room. You decide to explore, but you see only a countertop and the window. You peer outside, observing that the rain has still not ceased. You sigh and walk back to the door, trying to pick the lock. As you head over to the door, one of the floorboards creaks strangely, and you pause. Suddenly, it drops away, and you find yourself plummeting down, down, down.

swc word war proof - march 20
word war with @amiable_dolphin
this is theirs
words: 74

In the world, there is rumored to be a book that holds all of the secrets in the world. Many don’t think the book is real and was just a rumor that somebody made up to make adventurers search for nonsense. They think that the person who did so was one of the immortal (or just plain long-lived) dragons or other creatures, and that if such a book existed it would be larger than

ʚ Time travel ɞ
504 words
go back to my main post
(continuing from the taskforce project)

As the dog walks to the cozy wooden hut and goes up the stairs to his room, it seems a tension in the air is broken. Everyone exhales as if they were somewhat holding their breath. Some even glance back towards the hut, like they could feel the dog's eyes still on them.
You swallow and look around. Earlier you didn't have time to study everyone while you were being chilled to the bone by the witch and the dog. You realize with a sudden thought that all the faces are recognizable to some point. These are all the faces that vanished from SWC. Their time of disappearance ranges from before you were born and to just a few months ago. You recognize them all. Some only by description from rumors around camp, but .. You gasp as you see your best friend across the circle, that mysteriously vanished three years ago. You run and give her a hug, and she is just as surprised as you. Your jaw drops in realization and your arms fall from her as you realize she, and everyone else looks the same. The same. She looks just as she had the day of her disappearance. People that were walking rumors from seven years ago looked the same age as most SWC campers. Just out of suspicion from watching too many time traveling movies back at SWC with your sibling cabin, contemporary, you have to ask ..
“Guys, what year is it? And whats the date?”
Some frown at you asking what the year is, of course everyone knows the year ..
“July fourteenth, 2019.” A girl says, as if this should be obvious.
An older SWC camper laughs, “Thats a joke, right? November 20 2017.” They look to either side of them, still laughing, but their smile melts away when they notice no one else is laughing with them.
A younger girl is confused, “Whats going on? Its March 2016, and I forgot if it's the nineteenth or the twentieth.” She looks embarrassed to not have remembered the exact date of the day.
You guess watching time travel movies wasn't so bad.
“Does anyone have an extra pen?” A boy gives you his pen and you find a large leaf to write on. You sit on a rock and write down the dates everyone recalled, and then on the bach of the leaf you organized them by date. You realize the date you recall is the most recent. You fearfully wonder how long you have been from SWC, but you know this is no time to be worrying and this group is worried enough. Someone needs to lead them. You pass around the leaf, showing everyone the information you gathered.
“It seems like we all disappeared from SWC at different times, but it seems like today. I remember some of you guys disappearing, and I heard rumors about some of you too. But no one has aged a day ..” You trail off and sit on the rock to think about it.

SWC Writing competition entry
Kingdom Twists

2,000 words
Long ago, there was a queen who had the most elegant white parasol. It was priceless. It captured beauty that couldn't even be explained. One night, the queen was sleeping in her palace. Guards were on duty, of course to protect their queen. But, through the door on her balcony, someone crept in.They sneaked in and out, and took the Queen's elegant parasol with them. They went off into the night, accomplishing their elaborate plan to get past the guards. The next morning, the Queen realized what had been stolen in pure shock. She sobbed for three days. All her knights and guards looked around the clock to find the parasol, and there was a bounty for whoever found it. Four days into the search, a smart knight went to the fairies at the edge of the forest. He asked them to recreate the parasol. Out of honor to the queen, the fairies did. They collected their most elegant and precious wood from the trees of their forest for the handle and spine, and the flower petals from the nicest smelling pale pink flowers to recreate the top. It had an air that was even more elegant than the original parasol. The smart young knight went to the queen and presented the parasol to her. She fumed. She was angered at him having the thought that her parasol could be replaced. She most definitely wouldn't admit to it, but she was angered that it was more elegant than her own. As her memories came to her of how special the original was to her, a tear crawled down her face of anger. She ordered that she wanted it out of the palace. The knight, filled with sorrow, brought it to the other side of the forest. He rested it on a log, sorry for the fairies that had worked so hard on it. He couldn't bare bringing it back to them; not after he saw how happy they were to make something for the queen and how many materials they used to make it and the effort they put in to craft it. He walked away into the forest to clear his thoughts. A girl was skipping through the forest with a smile on her face. She skipped right by the parasol, and saw it out of the corner of her eye. She retraced her steps and her mouth dropped open. A parasol, that looked like one built for a queen. She picked it up, and marveled at its design and its beauty. She took it with her and continued skipping.
Six Months later, the knight was still embarrassed by his gift being turned down by the queen. Envy filled his bones. Anger pumped through his veins and sadness was his skin. He needed a way to get back at the queen. He became an apprentice of a queen's chef. He earned enough trust and faked enough skill to pour her orange juice one morning. He had became good friends with the fairies since the parasol making and had learned one something or two from them. He poured disappearing juice into the cup. Fortunately for someone, the queen ate breakfast in her private chamber. No one noticed she was gone before the girl with the parasol strolled in. All the workers of the palace thought she was the queen and she thought she had rethought about the parasol replacement. Since the queen was never to be seen again, it was never proved that this wasn't the queen. She was nervous about something figuring out she wasn't the queen, or if she wouldn't be a good queen. She told the palace workers she would be going out on some personal business. She went to visit her father who lived in a little house by the edge of the kingdom. She told him of what happened, and he gave her a hug, proud of her and so happy for her. He didn't ask to live in the palace, just that she would visit him once in a while. She promised she would, and traveled to her friend's house. She found a group of her friends there, hanging out without her and when she told them what happened they laughed. They giggled and said some offhand compliments about how she couldn't handle a kingdom, but they then masked it and asked if they could have money and live in the palace with her. One of them had the ego to ask if they could be queen instead of her, trying to convince her they would make a better queen. She walked off to the house of a friend she had met recently, and the friend asked how she was. They caught up, and she told her she was the queen. She exclaimed at how she knew she was fit for being queen and would be the best of all time. She traveled to her aunt, and she was happy for her. She told her how proud she was of her niece. Coming to a decision, the new queen went back to her palace. She announced she would be splitting the kingdom into three, one piece for her aunt, one for her father, and one for the friend she had just met. All the people that had been happy for her and asked for nothing, got everything. Now that this was done, she felt free. She adventured into the forest and trained to be a fairy. She didn't like it though, because of all the rules and she felt like she didn't fit in. On an adventure to find herself and find out what she wanted to do, and who she wanted to be, she became a knight. She loved what she did. She protected her aunt's part of the kingdom and loved practicing sword moves and practicing with her fellow knights. She rose to be the top knight, just under the commander of knights. The knight that had poisoned the first queen was the second best knight. He was so jealous that she had come to have more skill than he in less time and outshined his hard work. He went to his friends, the fairies, and told him about his problem. They told him that they had partly trained her in becoming a fairy. He asked if she had used magic to perhaps cheat her way into being the top knight. They said no, and told her that she was his long lost sister. He was shocked. They also told him that meant that he was the son of her father, who was now a king. He smiled and journeyed to her father's kingdom. He told the king he was his son. The king believed him, because he had the same eye color as his daughter and the same hair color he had when he was younger, though now his head was gray. When the king died later of old age, he became the king. He thought he would enjoy being king, but really at heart he was a knight. He became a knight for his kingdom as well as the king, which inspired his people. If the king was protecting his kingdom instead of hiding while his knights did so by themselves, the people of the kingdom knew they could too. The army grew and the kingdom became strong and successful. The king warred the neighboring kingdom, which belonged to the girl's aunt, and he fought alongside his people. He came sword to sword with the girl, and she finished him. His last words were confessing to the disappearance of the first queen. She became the ruler of what was his kingdom, and she decided she was ready to be a queen because she had earned her kingdom. She planned to have a worthy funeral for the first queen. She had everyone search all over the kingdom, with her aunt and her good friend searching their kingdoms too as a favor to her, to find the parasol. The finally found it, under the branches of a shady tree near the forest. She set the parasol atop the first queen's grave, even though there was no body to bury. As she was strolling back from the funeral, her kingdom was invaded. Before forces from the neighboring kingdoms could assist, an intruder splashed disappearing juice on the queen not knowing she was the queen. The queen was in the same world when she disappeared, but she was spectating everything. She could look anywhere in the world she wanted, but only look. She saw the first queen there too, in this world of spectating. She reached out to grab her hand, and then they were both taken back to the real world. The fairies had saved her, and when she grabbed the first queen's hand she brought her with her. The queen dissembled the first queen's grave and gave her her parasol. The first queen was so happy when she saw her parasol, that she shared her secret with the queen. She told her that her parasol had magical age changing abilities, and thats why it had been so important to her and she hadn't accepted the copy. She told her that she, her aunt, and her friend could keep their parts of what was her kingdom and she would be moving somewhere else to have a free life, one that she had not been able to have because she was born into royalty. She changed her age with the parasol to when she was younger so she could relive her life from a young age, and waved goodbye to what had been her kingdom. She gave the parasol to the next queen. Inspired by the second chance the first queen had gotten, she asked the fairies if they could give a second chance to the knight. They said yes, happy to bring back their friend. When he came back, he apologized, embarrassed for what he had done in his first life. He was glad to be informed that the first queen was back, and that relieved some of his guilt. He was forgiven, and he chose to live in the forest with the fairies. He opened a public school for fairies and everyone that wanted to be fairies, and earned his wings. He learnt a lot about magic, but decided to save some magical knowledge to be found by the future generations at his school. The queen's aunt who was the queen of the neighboring kingdom passed away and in her will she gave her kingdom to her niece. Her friend who ruled the neighboring kingdom was shot with an arrow from outside those two kingdoms. The people of that kingdom decided they wanted to join kingdoms. All three parts were one again, and they attacked the place from which the arrow had came. When they charged, they found nothing. The land was bare of life. The arrow had came from the dark fairies, which hid in the leafless black trees. They blended in well, but the joined kingdom had archers with good eyesight. They shot a dark fairy who happened to be the leader. The passed away dark fairy's daughter was saddened by her father's death, and wanted nothing to do with being an evil fairy anymore. She attended the school for good fairies and became a true good fairy. The queen wanted to learn more about being a queen, and went to the fairy school because it was one of the greatest schools in the kingdom. While she was gone, the parasol that had been gifted to her by the first queen was taken by the same shadow that had originally done so. But she came back to the palace while the shadow was leaving. She caught the shadow, and unmasked her. She finally found someone who understood her, and she and the shadow fell in love. They ruled the kingdom together in harmony, and had more adventures yet to come.

All my writing

HELLO.

I was so close. To the end, or to the beginning— I didn't know. But I was close; close to unlocking a new door. An enormous wooden door which seemed to reach the sky loomed before me. I held its keys in my hands. Why was I hesitating, wasn't this my plan all along?

I had been eager to do whatever it took to earn this oh-so-precious key. Success felt abnormally normal. Was this normal? No, I told myself, I have to go on. Tears welled in my now glassy eyes just by looking at the key. Everything I had sacrificed was for this moment. My grip on the key tightened, and I reached out for the lock. A ray of light beamed on the golden key, but it didn't gleam. The key was smudged with dusty stains. The imperfection of the keys outer appearance made me remember what I had endured to obtain it. The smudges were from the battles I survived, they reminded me of everything.

***

I was held hostage in the king's dungeon guarded by knights and dragons that were cruel to me. They tortured me and made me fear them every waking moment of my life. Then, one day, I had built up the courage to run away. That night, as I climbed onto the prison window's rocky sill, ready to leap out and regain my freedom, I said ‘farewell’ to the knights and dragons that imprisoned me. It was the last time I saw them. In my miserable days in the dungeon, I felt as if thick harnesses suffocated me in the darkness. Or were the knights and dragons my doubts and my bravery what set me free? Had it all been imaginary? Were they nothing more than tricks of my mind? The memory started becoming blurry and a new one made its way to replace it, flooding my mind like a massive tidal wave.

A group of strangers walked up to my puny little self and befriended me. I was delighted upon learning that my solitary anguish would come to an end. They fought beside me on my—no, our quest of obtaining the key, for the mere reason that I was their friend. We all had our differences. Yet despite what one might assume they did quite the opposite of tear us apart; they brought us together like delicate pieces of a puzzle. When unified, we were the definition of unstoppable. But now I was leaving them because of my own selfish reasons. I just wanted to see the other side of the door. But it was a mystery. There was no guarantee I would like what I saw. So was the risk worth it?

I kept asking the same question over and over again. It echoed in my head as a faint but prominent voice. I clenched my fist over my dull, golden key and squeezed it as hard as I could, taking out the entirety of my anger on the innocent key. If the past was bearable, why should I let go of it? The past was stable, familiar and most important of all, it was over. With nothing new to add, there was no risk. It was a cozy, safe haven. Why would I want to give it up?

There was light leaking through the corners and edges of the gigantic wooden door. Light meant hope. And what better move to make than cling to the bright and shiny hope that leaked through and embrace it? I was done dwelling on the past. I mustn’t linger anymore, I told myself. I would be leaving my friends behind, but I would always know that they supported my intentions. They helped me get here. They wanted me to reach my goal of getting the key. If it weren’t for them I wouldn’t have been here. For this reason and many others, I am eternally grateful for them.
With a swift, determined movement of the wrist, I unlocked the door. As I slowly pushed the door open to its full extent, I knew there would be no going back. But that was okay. When the door was open, and the other side gleamed with a blinding colorful light, I decided to greet my future with the wonderful greeting I had intricately crafted and composed in the most elegant manner possible. Mustering the pieces of my masterpiece, I readied myself to let it out, anticipating the graceful flow of the eloquent speech. My mouth formed the word with a smirk.
“Hello.”


936 words (with author's note)

•Author’s note: I hope you liked my story! It’s about now wanting to let go of the past and fearing the unknown, which is the future. This emotional dilemma was inspired by my own life. We all have out moments when we want to remain in a cozy place with no risks. But if we want to achieve something, we need to take a step forward and not be glued to the past. I feel like everyone has felt or will feel like this sometime in their life. Our past is important, but we can’t live in it. Otherwise we’d miss the wonders of the present and future. With this piece of writing, I intended to show you how we have to greet our future instead of hiding from it. If there’s light at the end of the tunnel, you have to take a step forward and leave your familiar spot behind, no matter how much you like it. The light of the future might be unpredictable, but you can mold it into whatever you like.
-Rea

Daily for march 20th! :: bold is the intro!

You haven’t felt the touch of sun rays in years. The Old Generation has taken over, hidden under a door with thousands of locks. And once the dawn announces a new day, the oligarchy still rules.

When will it end? The war's remnants are evident: any new heartbeat is heard under the dead silence, beckoning even the smallest bit of music.

Your scarred body looks up to see what stands above—the Building, so palpably in control.

Where to start? Rewind back thousands of years—back when you shared the glee of a blooming world. The ideology of a Utopia brushed your fingertips, the economy unbroken by the severity of the laws.

But the past is centuries from the present: a world only survivable on biomes with collectible resources. But are you the source of life here? What is the Old Generation doing, playing hide-in-seek in the pearl-white building hidden by wilted flowers, their songs faded like letters too often read?

When you walk forward, a knapsack on your back, your footprints turn to dust.

You keep walking forward, because, where else is there to go?

My part (continued in 2nd person because why not?) BRACE FOR IMPACT THE WORST CONTINUATION YOU HAVE EVER SEEN IN THE HISTORY OF YOUR LIFE:

You shiver as you gaze at the scarred land, despite the weather being quite humid and hot.

You strain your ears hoping to hear anything hiding out in the dry land.

You think about your family members, hoping and wishing for all the treacherous war to end. You think about whether or not you can still win, or will the evil Old Generation prevail all?

You don't want to find out. Was there a way to leave this place? Leave the dreaded dystopian society?

You were uncertain on one thing, could the New Generation change things?

EIDT: I think I have writers block, idk what to dooooooo!

You scan the area for shelter, scared you wouldn't be able to run from solitude and quietness. Your eyes head to the large white building, where the leaders, the people in charge, The Gone, The Present, The Past, and the Future, lie. How could they be so close to the leaders but no one could ever reach or see them? The secrecy of the leaders chills your bones.

You stop in your tracks, You turn around and head into the building. Your mind screams at you: where are you going!? Freedom lies the other way!

You were getting tired of this secrecy, you want to know what is inside the building that has tortured you your entire life. You stand in front of the large, painted white, stone door. The handle was more like and old time knocker you find in one of those old historical houses. You grasp the metal blanket and pull. With some effort, you were able to tug the heavy door open.

Inside a dark corridor loomed. No lights, except for a faint glowing in the distance.

You step inside, you take one last look behind you and watch as the large stone door slams closed.

Without any light you walking keeping your right hand in front of you case of any obstacles in your way, and you keep your left hand out toward the side and kept it steadily over the cold marble wall.

You can't see much, just the outline of your feet and hands, but nothing else. The light at the end was your only guide.

You walk for what seemed like years, the light never getting any closer.

Your legs get tired, so you stop and rest. You close your eyes, and visualize two ways on how the war could end. One with the New Generation winning, the cheers, the families hugging each other and crying. Then you visualize the second way. The Old Generation winning. The silence would last forever.

Tears are brought into your eyes, but you push them back, determined to move on.

After a while, you can see the light getting closer.

Then you reach your destination.

At the end there was a dimly lit room, nothing very impressive, the architecture looked rushed and incomplete. Not as intimidating as the exterior was.

The one thing that made you want to run and hide in a corner were four seats, huge, made of wood, and unlike the rest of the room, filled with intricate designs. But that wasn't what scared you.

What scared you was the four dark figures that stood on the chairs. You quickly realize who they were.

Standing before you were the leaders of the land, Faer, Elfie, Lily, and Zai.

Wow, that sounds terrible, thankfully I'm not the one making up the story line lol.

TOTAL WORD COUNT: 551 words!

Daily For March 20!
WC is 500 exactly >:]
Based off of stuff happening that wasn't exactly written, and also from “my” (character? ig?) pov

INTRO:

You haven’t felt the touch of sun rays in years. The Old Generation has taken over, hidden under a door with thousands of locks. And once the dawn announces a new day, the oligarchy still rules.

When will it end? The war's remnants are evident: any new heartbeat is heard under the dead silence, beckoning even the smallest bit of music.

Your scarred body looks up to see what stands above—the Building, so palpably in control.

Where to start? Rewind back thousands of years—back when you shared the glee of a blooming world. The ideology of a Utopia brushed your fingertips, the economy unbroken by the severity of the laws.

But the past is centuries from the present: a world only survivable on biomes with collectible resources. But are you the source of life here? What is the Old Generation doing, playing hide-in-seek in the pearl-white building hidden by wilted flowers, their songs faded like letters too often read?

When you walk forward, a knapsack on your back, your footprints turn to dust.

You keep walking forward, because, where else is there to go?

CONTINUATION:

You know where you’re going, though. One of the few things you still know nowadays. Your knapsack doesn’t actually contain much- just a few rocks. Rocks you’ve swapped out for the one thing you know will get you into the Building- keys. The keys are so heavy, but you’re always seen with your bag, so you have to have something convincing inside them.

Though it was a hard part, you left your keys with someone you thought you could trust. You just have to pray they’re really as trustworthy as they seem.

The Old Generation is always watching.

The Gone, The Past, The Present, The Future- always watching. Always.

Hidden behind their doors.

You never see them.

You will soon, though. You tell yourself that, but you’re not entirely convinced.

Maybe this is the next step in the journey.

Or maybe it’s nothing.

The old generation has asked to see you, and there is no way you are going to disobey their orders. Not when you’re this close. Not when you can feel it, right on your fingertips.

Not when you’re still alive.

A sudden darkness overcomes you. You do not try to fight whoever has placed this dark bag over your head- or whatever it is. It must be someone from the Old Generation. They are here to help bring you to your destination.

Helpless, you accept their guidance. Just like you always have. Because there’s nothing else to do.
At least not yet. But soon. Soon there will be something to do, and, when that time comes, you will do it.

When you can finally see, you find yourself in an empty room.

There is just you and a coruscating white screen, one that contains only a few words, which reads: “Dystopian Ethics Evaluation.”

When you finally dare to touch it, it brings you to a questionnaire.

The functions of the test seem quite simple. There’s a slider, and questions on either side. When you move the slider to one side, the other gets dim. A number at the top changes the more you move the slider to either side. You don’t understand it, but you do it anyway.

You have your suspicions, but what are you supposed to do? Get up from your seat and bang on the door demanding what this is for? No. You can’t, and you know that, and you have to do this.

The questions are a bit strange to you.

For the most part, you stay neutral. You’re scared. You’re so very scared but you don’t want to show it.

But there are answers which talk about love and about warmth and about home and you can’t help but slide the slider to 100 on those ones. You wish you were home. You wish it were warm.

Nothing feels right here.

Nothing feels like love or warmth.

Your score flashes on the screen.

118.

You let the bag slip over your head again and wait to be back home.

Wherever home is.

Writing Competition FANFICTION entry

WC: 426

Chapter One

Aragorn Is Losing It

The sun was rising over Camp Rivendell. By now it was about six in the morning, so Aragorn wasn't expecting any of the campers to arrive for at least six more hours. Considering all their work had been done the day before, he finally had six hours to rest before he was literally trampled over by the short hobbits that were going to come. He knew everyone he had in his dorm- they included a boy whose name was Boromir, a handful of hobbits by the names of Frodo, Pippin, Merry, and Sam, and a dwarfish kid named Gimli. He knew nothing about them, which was what scared him.
Just as he lay down to get some peace and quiet, his rest was quickly interrupted.
“HEY THERE, ARAGORN!” Called his assistant counselor.
“Legolasssss…” He mumbled, pulling a pillow onto his face. He screamed into it quietly. “What do you want?”
“I am here to tell you that we have to pick up the kids and meet them halfway! It will be so exciting, don’t you think?” Legolas had a hand on his hip and looked totally prepared to go; his green cap was on, his archery set that he refused to literally ever let go of was slung across his back and he held a handbag in one hand. “They’re supposed to be arriving by ferry.”
Aragorn groaned.
“Aren’t you excited?”
“No, not-” Then he had an idea. What if Legolas stayed here? Then Aragorn could have those hours of peace as he went to meet them. It was a genius idea.
“I’ll go alone. Wouldn’t want to burden you!”
Legolas looked hurt, but he nodded. “All right, I guess.” Then he grinned. “I have to prepare! It’ll be so cool. You know what, I’m going to make our dorm sparkle!”
“Sounds nice, princess.”
Legolas didn’t take the insult seriously. He pranced off to bug someone else. Even though Aragorn thought he was sometimes overwhelming, he was still a good friend.
Aragorn forced himself to roll off the bed, and oh, was he a terrible sight. He had bags under his eyes, his hair was disheveled, and, all in all, he was so incredibly tired that he was afraid he’d actually lose it.
But those kids were coming, and they needed an escort.
All Aragorn really needed was peace and quiet.
Although, he had a great idea as to how to surprise the kids in a good way.
Standing up, he strode into the bathroom and began to rummage through his luggage.

( I would like to make the disclaimer that Andy and Katie are the coolest cos ever, and that anything that is negative about them in the slightest is not true in the real world in any way whatsoever! We’re just supposed to despise one another in the storyline xD /gen)

Chief Adventurer Luna fell to her knees, meeting the dirt with a soft thud. She picked up a sharp, glittering golden fragment from the ground, brushing the soil off it tenderly. Craning her neck up, her gaze trailed from one door to the next, back to the golden fragment, and back to the doors again.

How did this happen? How did I let this happen? The ten words would not stop coursing through her mind, like a never-ending river carrying the same whispers over and over. She gripped the golden shard tightly, guilt and sheer perplexion hammering at her brain. This small, miniscule, worthless fragment- was all that was left of the compass. All that was left of their pride.

And now it had vanished, disappeared into thin air. Or stolen. The mere thought of the Protectors or Warriors- or worse, both, doing this made Luna’s blood practically boil, but she knew she couldn’t put it past them. The Warriors were known for betrayal, violence and deception, and Chief Warrior Andy always seemed to have another scheme, another bitter lie up their sleeve. The Protectors were mere healers, but Chief Protector Katie had an ambitious side-but one mostly set on guarding the Protectors. If the Warriors had found the Protectors, or if Katie suddenly saw the Adventurers as a threat…

An Adventurer with long, pin-straight cinnamon brown hair approached Luna on the ground, kneeling next to her gently. “Chief Adventurer Luna?” she asked hesitantly.

Luna glanced up towards the Adventurer, realizing with a flare of embarrassment that multiple had been watching their esteemed leader in this state. “E-er-“ she stumbled over her words for a minute, struggling to regain her ground. “Yes, what’s wrong, Kit?”

Kit did nothing but point ahead solemnly towards the misty night sky. Luna pressed her hands to the ground and pushed herself up until she stood right beside her, eyes searching for whatever Kit was trying to show her.

Her eyes scanned the forest, following Kit’s finger before finally settling her eyes on the sight. Her fingers flew to cover her mouth as she gazed at the four glowing doors, hovering across the forest in pairs. They gleamed so brightly that Luna and the Adventurers could see the doors from here. The Protectors and Warriors were facing the same phenomena that they were- perhaps this meant that they had lost their talisman, too? Maybe it hadn’t been Katie or Andy, but an outside, supernatural force? The mountain cave always seemed to lurk with a mysterious monster. Unless one of the Chiefs was manipulating the entire forest…

One way or another, the Adventurers were going to figure this out. They had no swords nor bows and arrows, but only the knowledge of the forest and one another. They were strongest as one, and that would be how they prevail.

Filled with a sense of newfound sense of confidence and curiosity, Luna led the Adventurers that had followed her through the trail back to the campsite, where the rest of her crew waited, looking at them all anticipatingly from the fireplace. “Listen up!” Luna announced, clapping her hands to signify her presence. “It appears we’ve got ourselves a new adventure.”

Luna had yet to unlock the mysteries that were happening to the forest, but she would soon enough with the help of the Adventurers. Whether the Protectors and Warriors were behind this or not, the Adventurers would prove themselves as the brilliant explorers they were, and repair their golden compass for all the world to see. Together.

Weekly 3

Inspiration From Music

Song One
Instrumental used - Surface Pressure instrumental

As I skipped the stones across the surface of the lake, creating ripples throughout the water, I heard the call.
At first, I didn't want to go. But I knew I had to. This was for my family, this was for my nation.
After a moment's hesitation, I threw one last stone, and it skipped five times. Five was a sort of lucky number to me, so I smiled and ran off to get ready.
Just outside the tent that held my weapons and other things I'd need, I smiled and waved to my friends on the other side of the camp. They waved back, and mirrored my impenetrable, indifferent smirk. That was the closest to any emotions we could show in this war. Otherwise, the enemies would see we were vulnerable at times, too.
As I sheathed my sword and put on my helmet, I climbed my horse, and the ride began.
It took about an hour to get there, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, we reached the site where we had agreed to this battle, and led the horses to a secret spot we had mapped out earlier, one where the enemies hopefully wouldn't find them. We needed those, unless we wanted to walk home.
And then the enemies arrived. I stood in position and waited for the battle to begin.
And then the general gave the signal.
Our style of fighting was a bit outdated, with swords and all that, sure, but we only used those if we worked best with close combat. The ones that had good aim and could use that to our advantage used bows and arrows. Still outdated a bit, yes, but hey, they still did the job.
What was the job?
To make them surrender.
To claim victory.
To win.
The fighting began. I swung my sword at the enemies as they charged. Must. Win. This. Battle.
But then something happened.
The world became peaceful as the world faded to something familiar.
And then I realized exactly what this place looked and sounded like.
My home.
Not the camp, my actual home.
I knew I wasn't actually there, I knew it was just an illusion, but something hopeful was in the air.
Turning around, I saw my family, who were crying, and swept me up into a hug.
“You're home,” cried Mom-But-Not.
“We were so worried you wouldn't come out alive,” added Older-Sister-But-Not.
I closed my eyes and tried to remember the last time I was this happy. Not since before the war.
I then realized what I had to do.
Opening my eyes, I was back on the battlefield. I ran back to the secret spot and mounted my horse once more, but not to go back to camp this time.
This war was worthless. We were getting nothing out of it.
I missed emotions. I missed being me.
This was exactly what I needed.
To go home.

(Song 1: 489 words!)

Song Two
Instrumental used - We Don't Talk About Bruno instrumental

As I walked through the forest with my friend Phoebe, I noticed something strange was going on. This was already no normal forest, as children had been going missing in there for decades. But I had the feeling we were being watched…
Suddenly, there was a noise, sending shivers down my spine. Why had we ever wanted to go in here? All that had happened was that Phoebe had been taking photos for a project, and one had blown away into the woods. We could have just retaken it, but we had instead made the decision to chase after it. And now we were lost.
Thunder sounded in the distance, and rain started to pour. Well, this was just great.
As we began to hear more and more mysterious sounds, we tried to quiet down by going slower. But it felt as if something was following us now, so we sped up as the noises got louder. It soon became more like a tiptoe, a quiet and fast escape from whatever resided in those woods. I looked around for my friend, but Phoebe was already gone. I didn't want to call out to her, though, for fear that I would be discovered. Suddenly, I could hear every beat of my heart, every step of my foot and every plop as the rain fell into nearby puddles.
The wind began to blow, an eerie sound that only made me even more scared. I stopped and looked around for anything that might have been following or watching me, but still, there was nothing. I began to run, now in quick bursts, stopping every few seconds to look around again. My footsteps and heartbeat sounded a hundred times louder now. Another crack of thunder sounded again and I kept running.
And then I came across a clearing with a large house in the middle. Walking inside, I noticed that there were pictures all over the walls, individual pictures of all the children that had gone missing. I continued to walk, and noticed that the house definitely wasn't abandoned. It was in almost perfect condition, and it was clear that several people lived here. Then I saw the other pictures. Some of the same children, having fun, others of different children, now adults, taking care of them. The range of ages varied, it seemed, from toddler to old enough to be a grandparent, but nonetheless, all of them seemed to have survived the forest.
So why hadn't they returned?
And then my heart started racing again, once more because I heard footsteps. This time, they came from the upper floors of the house.
Whoever lived here was inside at that very moment.
I looked around for a place to hide, but they kept getting closer. All the while, my time here in the forest flashed before my eyes, every moment at once.
Walking in.
The thunder.
Running.
My heartbeat.
Everything.
And then, with a final crack of thunder, the person reached the bottom of the stairs and stared directly at me.

(Song 2: 509 words!)

Inspiration
In this part, I am taking inspiration from an incident in my class a few months ago where supposedly, two people in my class had valuable things stolen from them on the very same day, except it has a fantasy aspect. (One just turned out to have forgotten his at home, but that's not what's happening here.)

I didn't know what to say when I heard it.
How do two people lose two things on the same day?
Either way, it happened, and now we all have to help find them.
Because the two things stolen were both Sources.
Sources were the most valuable thing a student at this school could have, really. In fact, it was one of the requirements to go to this school. Sources were where we got our powers from. Whose idea was it to start using Sources as containers for when we already had our powers, anyway? I'm sure it was much easier when we didn't put away and take out our powers, and just kept the Sources as proof that we'd even gotten them in the first place. But then again, it's also much easier to be able to switch it on and off by putting them in Sources, especially with emotion-controlled abilities or ones people haven't figured out how to control yet.
That Monday morning, I had been talking with my friends, Ollie and Liliana, when an announcement had come on the intercom.
“If anyone has seen a light blue Source, please report to the office.”
We all looked at Cecelia, our classmate who had a light blue Source. She normally used it to contain her abilities, as she had an emotion-controlled one. “Were your powers in there?” Ollie asked.
“They were,” said Cecelia, “I forgot my Source at home, and asked my sister to drop it off at the office, but it wasn't there when I went to get it!”
We began to think. Who would want to steal a Source when they already had their own? And how would they do it? All Sources on school property were to be kept supervised, especially if they were containing someone's abilities.
“We'll find it, don't worry,” assured our teacher.
There was a bit of talk about it throughout the day about it, especially revolving around why someone would steal Cecelia's Source, of all things. Her abilities only allowed her emotions to affect light in a certain area around her. If she was happy, the area would get brighter. If she was upset, it would get darker. And since very few students had emotion-controlled abilities, only someone who knew how to control such abilities would be able to use it without having their cover blown. I was discussing with Ollie about it after science when he heard someone running down the halls. He told me to pause my talking for a moment, while the running got closer.
“My Source is missing!” shouted a voice that we recognized to be Max, another kid in our class.
“Another one?” asked Vivian, who had just exited the classroom.
It actually kinda made sense this time, that Max's Source would be taken. He didn't have an emotion-controlled ability, he just kept his inside his Source because he had gotten his Source late and was still trying to figure out how to use it. Plus, he had telekinetic abilities, which were very extremely useful if you knew how to use them properly, even though they were more common than some others.
And it wasn't until math on Wednesday when we realized what had happened to Max's Source. Someone in our class, Julie, who often dropped things, had dropped her pencil and didn't seem to bother to try to pick it up until her hands flew up to her head.
“Julie, are you alright?” asked her friend, Willow.
“It hurts! How does Max even-” she covered her mouth, realizing her mistake, “oops-”
The math teacher glared at Julie and asked, “Did you take Max's Source?”
Julie hung her head. “Yes. Yes, I did.” She proceeded to take out the Source, emerald green, and put Max's abilities back inside.
We had all been taught the punishment for stealing someone's abilities. It was the very first thing we learned here. You had to give up your abilities for as long as the other kid's had been missing, which at this point was two days. Everyone seemed to realize this at the same time, and then it was as if the room got darker.
Probably because it did get darker.
Someone was using Cecelia's abilities. As we looked around to see who it was, Ollie noticed Marie, one of the popular girls, panicking.
“Marie?” asked the teacher, as sternly as she had asked Julie.
“Fine. I took Cecelia's abilities. Are you happy now?”
“No. In fact, I am very disappointed in you for thinking it was appropriate to steal. And the same goes for you, Julie. Both of you girls should apologize, and I want to see both of your Sources in the office until Friday. You hear?”
The girls agreed and returned Cecelia and Max's Sources.
And as much as I'd like to say it never happened again, I unfortunately can't, as it was too recent to tell.

(Inspiration: 816 words!)

Delving Into Themes
Continuation of - Piece two of part one

“P-please don't hurt me…” I stammered, still trying to hide.
The person, who I realized to be a young woman with long brown hair and green eyes, smiled. “Of course not.”
I took another look at her, then back to the photos. This wasn't just anyone. This was Valorie Smith, who had gone missing in these woods during a blizzard. “You're supposed to be dead.”
Valorie laughed. “No one has died in these woods. Not yet.”
I stared for a moment. “No one?”
“This is a forest of many mysteries, girl. The only one close to dying is now two hundred years old and is not afraid of what he has in store for him.”
Two hundred years old?
“Confused already?”
“Very.”
Valorie walked over to a nearby couch and sat down, motioning for me to do the same. Not knowing what else to do, I followed and sat.
“This forest is a place of mystery, of magic, of secrets. This house was created for us all, to live and thrive in. Here, we won't die for a very long time, and things such as disease and hunger do not exist. To live in this forest is both a blessing and a curse, however. Once you are found, you must either join us or choose a consequence, or else the forest will not let you leave.”
I didn't like how that sounded, so I asked, “What are the consequences?”
“The first is worst, Death to the cursed. The second beckons, Memory Loss is best, I reckon. The third is unheard, never again to speak a Word. After four, there is no more, and you must choose a Door.”
“And what if I choose none of them?” I inquired. “What if I leave without choosing?”
“To refuse is to lose, for then on your behalf, the Woods shall choose.”
Well, none of those sounded very appealing. “And if I stay?”
“That is a consequence in itself, for then each consequence will get worse the longer you stay.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, for example,” Valorie began, “If you leave after one day, Death will come peacefully, you'll only lose Memory of the events after entering the forest, or you will only fall silent when talking about this forest and what happened.”
That kind of made sense. “But what if I left after, say, a week?”
“The last thing you'll feel will be pain that's a four on a scale of one to ten, you'd lose memory of the past month, and you'd become silent when talking about any forest.”
I shuddered. Those sounded even less appealing. Wait…
“How long have I been here?”
Valorie grabbed a thermometer-like device out of her pocket and pointed it at my forehead before saying, “Three hours.”
So I still had time.
I began to run, going as fast as I could, trying to remember which direction I came from. After a few minutes, I realized something.
I had lost Phoebe a long time ago, but never bothered to find her.
I started calling out her name, trying to get a response, but there was nothing. Then I started running around, looking alongside calling out.
“Zoe?” a familiar voice called out after who-knows-how-long.
“Phoebe!” I shouted.
My friend started running towards me from my left, and attacked me with a hug. “I thought I lost you!”
“I did too!” I laughed in relief. “Come on, we need to get out of here. There are consequences for leaving this forest, and they get worse the longer we stay.”
We began to run once again, and after what felt like ages, we made it to the edge of the forest.
“You have entered, and now must choose your consequence.” Came a voice. As it said so, four doors appeared. The voice repeated what Valorie had told me earlier, about what each door led to and how we would die, what we would forget, and what we wouldn't say.
Phoebe looked at me, hurt in her eyes.
“What?” I asked, trying to decipher what her expressions were saying.
“I don't want to go back into the forest, but I do not want to choose a consequence either.”
I blinked. “What are you hinting at? What are you trying to say?”
“What I'm trying to say is…I refuse to be limited.”
“You refuse to choose?”
“It depends. What happens if I refuse?”
The voice came once again and explained what would happen if Phoebe didn't choose one, that the forest would choose at random.
Phoebe closed her eyes and took a deep breath before walking over to the first door.
“Phoebe, no!”
But she didn't listen. As she opened the door and faced whatever she saw behind it, she whispered, “I refuse to be limited.”
And that was the last I saw of her.
“And what about you?” asked the voice. “Do you wish to join your friend, limitless, yet dead? Or would you rather live with the extra consequence, of living with the fact that you lost a friend? The extra consequence of knowing it's your fault? The extra consequence of coming here?”
It was at that moment where I made my choice. “Can I ask for a consequence to be amplified? As in, what it would be like if I had stayed too long?”
“If you wish,” said the voice.
I thought back to every moment I had ever seen and cherished.
My mother's smile, my father's laugh.
My sister's intelligence, my brother's thoughtfulness.
If I chose not to speak, they'd worry for me. They'd ask to no avail what had happened, and I'd have to find other means of communication. Would I want that?
If I chose not to remember, I would have no idea they existed. I might even wonder if they were my real family. Would I want that, either?
And if I chose to die in pain, as punishment for letting myself do any of this, they would never get over that. And I guess that's what I wanted the least.
“Let me forget,” I whispered, opening the second door. “Let me forget everything.”

(Delving into themes: 1020 words!)

Total
2,834 words!

March 20, 2022

Word count: 156

Word war with Blush

3 minutes

We look around, scanning the room. It has never been like this before. The rags off the hooks, clothes thrown on the bed. He would never do this. James has always been neat and tidy. He- he wouldn’t do something like this intentionally. Would he? I look over at Oliva, about to say something, when she speaks up.
“I don’t know,” she says, shaking, “I don’t know, Hunter. What are we supposed to do? He- he left.”
“No no,” I reply, “Olivia, he would never leave us. Even if he had the choice. Well, he actually has no choice but to stay with us for his own good. I don’t know why or how he left, but we need to find him.”
Olivia nods, “You’re right, I know you’re right. But I can’t seem to shake the idea that we were responsible for this. Were we that terrible that he would just run off like that?”

Word War with Eevee.
Word count: 163

The sky is murky gray, and water is dripping down the windows. Rain. You stare out the window, imagining what life would've been like if you made a different choice. Did you do the right thing? Or was it all just a mistake? Sitting there you ponder what could've been better. Honestly, everything. You're on the verge of tears once again realizing that you're responsible for your parents' death. Not really, but partially. You try to relieve yourself from the constant feeling of guilt, but it doesn't work because you know it's your fault.

Finally getting up, you head to the family room, and look at a picture of your mother and father, smiling while holding…you. Never in a million years did you mean to hurt them, harm them, in any way, shape, or form. But it happened, and there's nothing you can do about it. All you can really do is move on. I know it's hard, and it feels like you're

ʚ weekly 3 ɞ
2,580 words in total
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☆ inspiration from music ☆
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☆ delving into themes ☆