word war with @-writingiscool-
word count: 193
status: won

I stare at them with narrowed eyes, suspicious and apprehensive. “Are you good or bad?”

They shrug nonchalantly, a sly smirk creeping across their face. “It's too soon to tell, really.”

I watch them with a considering gaze, weighing the pros and cons of the situation. Perhaps they could prove to be a valuable asset. They had thorough stealth capabilities equal to their combat ones, and they had proven some quite…creative thinking. But on the other hand, their ideas were rather risky. I didn't want them to put the rest of the team at risk- especially not Asha. I couldn't let my sister get hurt on my watch.

I scan their face; their bruised, swollen lip, dried blood from the gashes on their almond complexion, mischevious dark eyes. They hid more than they let on- it was a matter of whether it was a risk I was willing to take.

They had risked a lot for me too, though. Perhaps it couldn't hurt.“ Don't make me regret this,” I decided sternly.

They grinned widely and clasped their hands together. “Wonderful, most wonderful!” they said gleefully.

“I didn't get your name,” I pointed out.

~badowie's writing comp entry

The Grove and the Fire~

They said the grove had always been there for them. No matter what happened. They told Trosya that the grove would always be there. Guiding them.

For as long as anyone could remember, the grove had been there. And every six years since then, when the extra day and the holiday of repentance came along, it would open up. The flowers would bloom. The leaves would turn green. The spring would bubble. And Trosya’s family would lead the people of the village through the open fields and to the edge of the grove.
One person who was of age, different each time, would enter the lake and perform an unspoken ritual.

This year, it would have been Trosya’s turn to lead the village to the grove. She would have entered the lake and done what had to be done. If all had been well, she would have learned of her duties yesterday and of the ritual she would have done.
But all was not well. It was the day before the ritual, and for the first time in countless centuries the people of the village wondered if maybe the ritual did not matter at all. Maybe they were just a speck of dust, a needle in the haystack. Or, more accurately, just another straw in the haystack. Nothing of notice. Nothing that mattered.

For the past two months, there had been news of the fires. Ravaging, unprovoked fires that had swept through the North with no barriers and swallowed stone, wood, and flesh alike. People claimed many different things-that it was the result of a war, that the Southern nations had created it to gain control, even that old gods and magicians had awoken. Some of the refugees said that the fires would eventually come to the South, bringing their cities to ruin just like it had in the North.
But most paid them no mind. There were no fires. Especially not the way these ones had been described. That was unheard of, and even if there was any truth in it there was no chance it could reach the South. Especially not to the village. The small, harmless, secluded village with the grove. Trosya’s village.
So with the fires pushed out of their mind, the people had soundly continued preparing for the ritual. Everything had been going perfectly fine-the preparation of the trail, the creation of the little lanterns, the teaching of the process. Until three days before the ritual, when the first fire came.
The people refused to accept it at first, saying it was just an ordinary little mistake. By the time they realized it was much more, it was too late. And in the rush to save Trosya who would be conducting the ritual, they forgot those who still had to teach it to her, and her family was lost along with countless others.

So here Trosya sat, a day before the ritual, looking out the window of her burnt house out to the field that she would have walked through. To the grove that she would have led them to. She would be wondering what to do, but she knew that it wouldn’t matter. Not one person in the village cared about the ritual anymore. After an hour of staring, hoping anything could happen that would bring salvation to her and the village, she simply lay down and tried to sleep, hoping it would wash away the dread, guilt, and sadness of the fires that had been and the ritual that was to come.
She awoke prematurely an hour later from a light knocking on the door. “Leave me alone,” she mumbled. “The ritual’s just not happening.” The knocking continued. “I told you to go,” she said a second time, but the person at the door did not leave. “Whatever,” she said after some time. “What would you want anyway?” She walked to the burnt door and as she tried to open it it fell down and crumbled to dust. In the doorway stood a boy who looked about the age of ten holding a tiny makeshift lantern.
“I made this for you,” he said quietly. “To help with tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow doesn’t matter,” Trosya replied. “There’s no ritual. And the grove’s probably burnt. How could you make that with so many dead right around you?”
“Does the ritual really matter?” asked the boy. “You have the grove. You have the intention.”
“But the ritual…it’s the most important part,” she whispered. “How could I just ignore it?”
“Who ever said it was that important?” said the little boy, once again challenging all that Trosya had even known. “Legend says that hundreds of years ago we had a specific way of entering the grove and the lake, and that one year it was lost in a war. But we recovered. We had the ritual, we had the place, we had the intention, and that’s what mattered.” Upon hearing that, Trosya took the small lantern from the boy. “I don’t know if it truly helped,” she said, “but thank you.” The boy nodded and left without a word.

The next morning, the day of the ritual, Trosya woke up and made her decision. It seemed the rest of the village had as well, for they stood waiting on the plain, faces grim yet hopeful, lanterns in hand. She stood up in front of them, addressed them quickly, and began the journey across the field to the grove. As they walked, the lanterns seemed to cast a divine light onto the burnt grass, and Trosya thought she saw a flower bloom in their wake. The grove was soon in sight, and although the trees were singed there was still the same aura, that feeling of hope, that surrounded it. Alone, standing on behalf of the village, Trosya walked up to the grove, entered the lake, and closed her eyes.

She did not know the ritual.
She did not know the words.
She did not know how to enter the lake.
But Trosya had the lake. She had the grove. And she had the intention. “Shelter us,” she whispered, “shelter this village, and shelter the world.” The whole while, the boy’s small lantern was held tightly against her chest, and despite the water glowed as bright as ever.

Word war w/ @Luna-Lovegood-LOL

The first version (when the timer didn't go off, I know it's not the actual war but I like it better so I'm sharing it anyway):
I frowned, a sense of unease coming over me.
I turned around, fully prepared to face whatever came in my way.
There stood a boy my age.
I did not relax, though I was surprised.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Who are you?” he echoed.
I sighed, annoyed.
“I asked first.”
“My name is Jay.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said through clenched teeth, annoyed at his interrupting me in my big moment.
“You don’t sound too pleased.” he remarked.
“It happens when someone is rude enough to follow me in one of the biggest moments of my life.”
“Fair enough, now who are you?”
“If you don’t know who I am, why are you following me?
“Because you were acting suspicious, now who are you?”
“I’m a very powerful person who could wipe you out if you keep talking to me like that.” I responded.k
He laughed, clearly unconvinced.
“ARe you good or bad?” he asked suddenly.
“I’ts too soon to tell, really.”
“You’re very good at answering questions.”
“Why thank you.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
I growled, ready to strike.

Second version (the one with the correct word count, but I would have lost either way lol):
I was almost there.
Suddenly, a sense of unease fell over me, and I became acutely aware of that there was someone behind me.
I spun around, ready to strike.
There was a boy my age standing there.
I startled, but did not unarm myself.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Who are you?” he replied.
I swore softly, he would be a real pain if I kept him around, but I couldn’t bring myself to kill him.
“I asked first,” I remarked, more of a statement than an urging.
“I’m Josie, now who are you?”
“Josie,” I echoed; “Lovely name for a lovely princess.”
“Shut up.”
“Why were you following me?”
“Who are you?”
“A powerful person who could wipe you out in a heartbeat.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“Are you good or bad?” he persisted.
“It’s too early to tell, really. Why were you following me?”
“You were suspicious.”


You'd think that writing something the second time would be easier but nooo I just couldn't remember anything and my creativity gave up- /ms /lh

Word Crawl
8,254 Words
This is a Hunger Games word crawl that I found online that I’m using to boost my word count :)

Reaping Day:
(Start of sprint) My name is Chrysanta Davis. I live in Panem. I am sixteen years old. Today is the reaping day. Today is the day where I could be sent to my d3ath. Today is my fifth Reaping Day.
As I walk solemnly towards the town square along with the other kids of my district, I keep repeating these things over and over again in my head, anything that I can do to distract myself from the events of today. Though, granted, I probably should have chosen something else to think about since currently it was doing absolutely nothing to ease my nerves.
As me and the rest of the kids arrived at the table where we check in with the peacekeepers, I saw my friend Aspen running towards me. He was sixteen as well. Of course, everybody was always worried about the Reaping. (End of sprint, total of 142 words.) Everyone in my District knew that there was a low chance of life if you were picked, even though nobody really liked to admit it.
“Hey.” Aspen started as he ran up to wait in line with me
I looked over at my friend and gave a weak smile that most likely came out looking more like a grimace “Hey.”
“So, how’re you feeling about your chances?”
“Why are you trying to make conversation!” I exclaimed, “I just want this day to be OVER already!”
“Whoa! Chrysanta!” Aspen exclaimed, raising his hands “Chill out, it’s gonna be fine.”
“You don’t know that. You have no idea how many times my name ended up in that bowl.” I saw Aspen face pale as I finished my sentence
“What do you mean? How many times could your name possibly be in there? How much tessare did you take?
“Doesn’t matter.” I answered, looking away from Aspen.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I had to take out a massive amount of tesserae every year. And that I had been ever since I turned twelve years old. It was the only way my family, one of seven kids, could have enough food to survive! Currently, only me and three of my siblings were of age for the Reaping, and every single one of us took out as much tesserae as possible.
“Chrysanta!” Aspen cried, grabbing my shoulders and turning me around to face him “How many times is your name in the Reaping Bowl! Answer me!”
“One hundred forty two.” I muttered, much to quietly for Aspen to actually hear me
“What did you say? Speak up Chrysanta!” Aspen stared at me, a panicked look in his eyes
“One hundred forty two.”
“What!” Aspen cried “How is that even possible?! Why would you do that Chrysanta!”
“Look Aspen! Do you think I wanted it to be like that? No! But what other choice did I have!” Before he could argue with me any longer, it was our turn to register and we were both taken to our respective areas of the square to wait for the announcement of our two unlucky tributes this year.
(506 words)

Goodbye:
Me. It’s me. Why me? How? Well, I know how. My name was just in too many times. There was no way that I could stay out of The Games forever. I had known that it was only a matter of time before I was the one who would have to go to The Capitol. Before it was my turn to go to The Games. And it was today. If there was any condolence, it was that I had no idea who her male counterpart tribute was. Maybe that would make it easier for me to get rid of him in The Games if it came to that. Though, I really hoped that I wouldn’t have to be the one to ki// him.
After all the showmanship of the Reaping had ended, me and my male counterpart, whose name was Ceder, were brought into the justice building to say goodbye to our loved ones. And I was definitely going to take advantage of that, I needed to tell my younger siblings how they could help keep our family fed once I was gone. Because, if I was being honest with myself, I knew that most likely I would never come back home once I left today. (Start of sprint) I waited for a few minutes, trying to collect myself before my family came in, probably the last time I would see them ever again. Finally, I heard the door open and I looked up to see my family come in, all my siblings and my mom were teary eyed; I was trying my best not to cry myself. I wanted to give the little ones some false hope. Even though I knew it was cruel, I just couldn’t bring myself to tell them that I wasn’t coming back. I’d rather them have some kind of hope to feel for the next couple weeks before The Games started.
“Chrysatana?” My eleven year old sister, Orchid, came over to me and looked straight into my eyes. “Promise me something. You will try to win.”
“Orchid honey, of course I’m going to try.” I tried to reassure my sister.
“No! I want you to promise me that you aren’t going into these Games thinking ‘oh well! I’m going to d!e anyway, what's the point of trying!’ I need you to tell me you’re really going to try! Okay?” I looked at my sister in shock. I realized that she had a point. I had been going into these Games thinking there was no chance. Maybe that was a mistake.
“Okay. I promise Orchid.” (End of sprint, 222 words) Then I looked towards my other siblings
“Guys… I.. I don’t want you to take out tesserae if you don’t have to. But.. If you can… And you have to…”
“We know Chrysanta. We know what you mean.” My thirteen year old brother Oak interjected before I could finish my sentence “We know when and when not to take it out.”
“Yeah.” Orchid smiled, “We’ll get by.”
“Besides!” My six year old sister Daisy grinned “If you win the Hunger Games we get more food from the Capitol right?” She looked up at me, completely sincere in her words. She really was hopeful that I would come home. And I sure as heck wasn’t going to be the one to take that hope away from her.
“Yeah Daisy.” I smiled back, picking my little sister up and holding her tightly “Yeah that’s right. You’re such a smart girl. You know that?” She pulled back and looked at me, grinning. I could help but envy her sense of innocence about these Games. I knew it was only because my mother never let the little ones watch the Games. And this year would most likely be no different.
Before I could say anything else, all my siblings and my mom just hugged me and we all stayed that way until the Peacekeepers came, telling my family it was time for them to go home, and telling me that it was time to go to the train to meet my mentors and my fellow tribute.
(680 words)

Train Ride:
I got District 7 so I’m sprinting to 700

(Start of sprint) As soon as my family left I was escorted by the peacekeepers to the train that would take me and Cedar from District Seven all the way to the Capitol. You know, so we could be put in an arena and fight to the d3@th for the entertainment of the wealthy people who lived there. Seems pretty messed up in my opinion. But… You know. Nobody cares about what my opinion is.
Anyway, I followed oblong with the Peacekeepers without putting up a fight mostly because I knew that there was no point in doing so. Fighting wasn;t going to do me any good. They would just punch me to make me shut up, then throw me into the arena anyways. It was better to just get to the train and spend as much time talking to my mentor as possible.
The female mentor for District Seven is Johanna Mason who won the seventy-first Hunger Games by pretending to be weak and scared so that her opponents would underestimate her. Then she showed off her skills as a true ki//ing machine. Needless to say, it was an easy win for her in the end. And if I’m being completely honest, she kind of scares me. I’m just glad that i didn’t have to face her when she was in The Games. She was brutal. I remember watching her on TV and being absolutely terrified of her. And look at this now! Now she has to mentor me and try to keep me alive! Good luck to her with that! I did not have many skills that would help me out in the arena.
When I was at the platform, I saw that they had already brought all the cameras to the station, and so I continued trying my very best not to cry. That wouldn’t help my standings with the other tributes when I reached the Capitol with Cedar. It would only make me a target, not only in the Games but probably in training as well. So before I took a step out of the van that had taken me from the Justice Building to here, I took a deep breath to collect all my thoughts. Then, I stepped out of the van and onto the train platform. I didn’t look at any of the cameras, I didn’t want to bring too much attention to myself early on before I’d figured out how to play myself to get the audience to like me. I wanted to have a clean slate when I finally made it to the Capitol. Granted, it would only take a couple of hours, but in that time I would be coached by my mentor. So, when I arrived I would have a much clearer idea of what to do for the best chance at surviving these Games. And I really wanted to try, because I couldn’t stop remembering that promise that I had made to Orchid. That I really would try and win these games.
Without looking at any of the numerous cameras that were capturing every move Cedar and I made, I climbed into the train car and was immediately met by the District Seven escort, her name was Mariyah… Mariyah… Mariayah Something-Or-Other. I was too busy with my own problems to remember her full name. And it wasn’t even really that important, her only real job was to tell us the rules of the Capitol that we had to conform to while we were there. Oh, and of course she had to make sure we didn’t hurt ourselves too much before me and Cedar were sent to be sl@ughtered by twenty three other children. That was important to the Capitol as well, I suppose. But I didn’t really care about any of that right now. All I cared about was going to talk to my mentor to get as much out of her as I possibly could during the train ride. I needed to know what I could do to get back to my siblings.
Once the doors to the train had closed, Mariyah led me and Cedar to a train car that looked way too fancy for me to be in. It looked like it was most likely a dining car for people to eat in. The seats were all lined with some kind of velvet, and all of the wood and metal was shiny and looked brand new. But aside from that, what really caught my attention was all of the food that was laid out! There was so much of it and it all looked better than anything I’d ever had in… Well probably in my entire life! Me and Cedar both sat down at the table in front of the food, and we were about to start eating when suddenly, we heard the door open. I looked up just in time to see someone throw something in my direction. I instinctively ducked under the table to avoid whatever it was, and lucky I did! I turned around to see a freaking kn!fe sticking out of the wall behind where I’d been sitting. I peaked out from under the table and saw Johanna Mason standing there, an odd smirk on her face.
“What the heck was that!” I yelled, standing up angrily “I thought you were supposed to help me live! Not ki// me before we even reach the Capitol!”
Johanna just smirked at me. “Well, gotta make sure you have those reflexes or you won’t last five minutes in those Games.” (End of sprint 927 words)
“So you’re idea of ‘making sure I have reflexes’ is throwing a kn!fe at my head!?” I screamed, extremely annoyed at this crazy woman who was supposed to be my mentor “ You’re insane!”
“Watch your mouth little girl.” Johanna stated, taking a seat across the table from me “You never know who’s gonna be most helpful to you in The Games.”
“Okay. Whatever.” I rolled my eyes and grabbed some food, starting to eat. Cedar followed suit. I wasn’t quite sure I was going to like my mentor, but she was kinda my only hope at this point.
(1,026 words)

Opening Ceremonies:

(Start of sprint) Once me and Cedar arrived at the Capitol, we were immediately taken to meet our stylists so that they could prepare us for the opening ceremonies. And I was honestly expecting that our stylists, Mariposa and Bergen, were going to dress me and Cedar up like trees. That’s literally all I’ve ever seen the District 7 tributes dressed up as. It’s overused and du*b. Even so, I was expecting trees. What I was not expecting however, was something themed around ‘The United States of America’ which apparently sat where Panem is now. Back in the day, the lumberjacks of the United States used to dress in this odd red and black plaid color. And they wore suspenders with it? I’m not really sure, but apparently that’s what Mariposa and Bergen decided to theme mine and Cedar’s costumes around. This was going to be extremely interesting, and honestly I felt like it was going to go to an extreme one way or another. Either everybody was going to hate our outfits and we would be the laughing stock of the tributes, or.. OR by some miracle, everybody would love our outfits, therefore giving us a boost in the sponsor department of The Games. I was sincerely hoping that the second option would play out, but really I had no idea what people in the Capitol thought, or what they did and didn’t like.
Before we could get into our ‘lumberjack’ outfits though, we had to be ‘cleaned up’ as my stylists put it. They took me into a room and made me get into a bathtub where they proceeded to basically scrub my skin raw, then rinse off all of the soap they had created in the process. Then they decided I still wasn’t clean enough and decided to do it all over again! It’s insane! It’s like for me to be in the freaking Capitol I had to be scrubbed to the core seven times over. Whatever. It was nothing compared to what was coming next apparently, because after they finished they brought me over to a table and started waxing off ALL my hair! It was excruciating and felt completely unnecessary! Apparently, it matters to people in the Capitol if you have hairy legs or something like that! Why, though? Who the heck even cares! I certainly don’t care! Though granted, I guess in the districts I never really had time to worry about my appearance in any way, shape, or form. I was too busy trying to keep my siblings from starving.
As soon as I started thinking about my siblings, I started feeling a bit depressed again. It was really starting to hit me that there was a chance that I might never be able to go home and see my siblings again. But honestly, that wasn’t the thing that scared me the most. Honestly, what really scared me was that this might become the reality for one of my siblings one day… Especially if they had to keep taking out tesserae to eat… And that.. That really did scare me. What if I didn’t win these games? If I didn’t win all that food and a new home for my family… That one day soon, my little siblings would have to go through the same thing as me. And no older siblings want to have to live with that kind of guilt and responsibility. And yet, here I am.
After my stylists were done washing, and waxing, and whatever the heck else they felt like they had to do with my body, they told me that it was time for Mariposa to come in and tell me all about my outfit for the opening ceremonies.
The woman came in, and I was immediately appalled by her appearance. I guess I should have expected that she wasn;t going to look like a normal person, but still I was shocked when she came in and I saw that everything about her was blue. And when I saw everything. I mean everything. Her hair, eyes, nails, outfit, SKIN! Almost everything about this woman was blue! Only thing that I could see that was a different color were her teeth, they were a blinding white color. (End of sprint! 708 words!)
“Hello there Chrysanta!” Mariposa grinned at me “Aren’t you just SO excited for this opening ceremony outfit!!!!!” I found myself unable to do anything other than just stare in complete shock at the crazy woman. There was no way she could be genuinely serious. How could she be excited about this? I guess that’s a rhetorical question though. She’s from the Capitol. This really is just a game for her.
(778 words)


Training Days:

Everybody absolutely loved the outfits that me and Cedar wore during the opening ceremonies! The night after the ceremonies, Mariyah came in beaming to tell us all that nobody in the Capitol could stop talking about how ‘innovative’ and ‘unique’ our costumes were. I don’t get what was so cool about them, but I didn’t really care anyway. If the Capitol people liked it, and the sponsors liked it. Then whatever! I was good with that. Gives me just one more kind of edge in the arena in that position anyways. But on the other hand, I only had a little bit of experience with fighting, and I had little to know real survival skills other than knowing about the kinds of edible plants that grew in the forests in District Seven where I worked. I would grab them if I saw them while I was working so that I could bring it home and then at the end of the week I would throw it all in some hot water and there! Instant stew! But aside from that, I really had no survival skills that would help me in the Game, and if I wanted any chance at getting home to help my family and my district, I needed to gain a lot of skills.
Me and Cedar arrived at the training room just on time, and gathered with the rest of the tributes in a circle around our main instructor to listen in instructions before going off to practice survival and fighting skills, both of which would have immeasurable value in the arena.
(265 words)

Private Session:
For the past three days, I had tried my very best to learn a mix of survival and fighting skills. I excelled in learning about different plants that were edible or poisonous, which would be helpful in the arena I was sure. And throughout the three days, I had also been thinking about what I was going to show the Game Master during my private session. I knew that was really the most important part of the training days, since it determined your training score. That was what really helped to draw in a lot of sponsors for the tributes, and sponsors could be an immense help in the arena, especially near the end when food and water were scarce and weapons were a commodity.
Unfortunately, I still was unsure what I was going to do for my private session, even as the last day of group training was drawing to a close and I wouldn’t have any more time to practice anything. The night before, Johanna suggested that I show off something to do with a weapon since that would make me seem like more of a threat, thus getting me a larger training score. I had asked her if that’s what she had done during her private session. She didn’t really answer my question though, only saying that doing that wouldn’t have been in the interest of her angle that she was playing off of. She left it at that, before asking me what my angle was, and how using a weapon during the private session would help me play that angle. I responded that I didn’t know what my angle was supposed to be, or how to pick one. However, Johanna hadn’t helped me figure that out either, she just left me to figure it out for myself. Some mentor she was.
The conversation with Johanna had gotten me thinking though, what was my angle for these games? I knew that I needed one, I just didn’t know what it should be or how to play into it. I knew there were some angles that were commonly played by the tributes, but I don’t really know how I would play into a lot of them. The only thing I really had going for me that I think might get me some sympathy from the Capitol and maybe draw in some sponsors is that I have so many younger siblings waiting for me back in District 7. I guess that I could play into that during my interview with Caesar tomorrow night, but how could I play that into my private session with the Game Makers? There was no way. I’d have to take Johanna’s slim piece of advice and perform with a weapon for the Game Makers so that I’d get a good training score, and then make people pity me during my interview. Hopefully that’d be enough to keep me alive in these Games. It had better be, since that’s all I can conceivably do right now.
(501 words)

Interview:
My interview with Caesar. It was something that I was equally looking forward to, as well as dreading. I didn’t particularly like speaking in front of people, but I knew it was another way for me to draw in some more sponsors to help me in the Games. And if I wanted to survive, I knew I was going to need them. I figured that during the interview, I would be able to mostly play into the fact that I had so many younger siblings waiting for me back home, that I was really all that they had and that I really wanted to get back home to them. The Capitol people would totally eat that up. The only other thing that I really had to worry about was what nonsense outfit Mariposa was going to concoct for me to wear during this darn interview. Honestly, I was just praying that it wasn’t going to be too crazy, that I would be able to just get through this interview without having to make myself look like a fool in some crazy outfit in the process. Luckily for me, Mariposa decided not to go too over the top with my outfit, mostly at Johanna’s request so that we could really play into me being the role of primary caretaker, that wouldn’t work if they were trying to make me look slightly pr0v0cative. So instead, we went for a simple, strapless shift dress with intricate floral patterns and some light pink flats and some golden jewelry. I’m not sure how that outfit would play off to the audience, but Johanna and Mariposa were satisfied, so I guess it probably was good.
That evening, I had to sit through twelve interviews, watching as some tributes fl!rted and did things like that, while others showed off their extreme strength, while others said nothing clearly terrified out of their wits. None of that was going to be what I leaned into during my interview however, and I hoped that my interview would be good enough to get me some sympathy, even though my training score was a measly 5. Not bad, but also not good. I was hoping for at least a 6 or 7.
Once I heard Ceasar call my name, I walked onto the stage and gave a small smile at the audience. Enough for them to see me as friendly, but not enough for them to think that I might be enjoying this kind of thing. Then I took a seat by Ceasar, and smiled in his direction. I hoped he got to the questions about my family soon, if not Johanna had advised me to steer the conversation in that direction somehow
“Well hello there Miss Chrysanta from District Seven! And how are you doing tonight?”
“Doing well Caesar!” I grinned, lying through my teeth.
“Well now, that’s good, that’s good! Now though, I know that that’s not what we’re here to talk about! We want to know about your life! So, are there any people waiting for you back home?” I was extremely glad that Caesar was talking to me about it directly and that I wouldn’t have to try and steer the conversation in that direction on my own, I don’t think I would have been very good at doing that.
“Well, yes in fact Caesar. I have six younger siblings waiting for me to come back to District Seven.” I answered, giving a weak smile that showed my sadness, but not too much of it.
“Well, well well! Six younger siblings? That’s quite a few! Isn’t it?” The audience all sounded their agreement, and once it quieted down, Caesar continued “So Chrysanta, how old are all of them? What are their names?”
“Lily is fourteen, Oak and Birch are thirteen year old identical twins , Orchid is eleven, Daisy is six, and Rose is four.” I answered, trying not to tear up as I listed all of my younger siblings one by one
“Well, that is six siblings indeed! Amazing you can keep them all straight!” Caesar laughed at his own joke, and I also gave a small smile, in an attempt to agree with him
“Well you know, I have lived with them all for a number of years. I should hope I know their names by now.” I laughed
“And, Chrysanta, if I may make the mood a bit more somber. How much does your family rely on you for monetary support?” Caesar asked, leaning in towards me a bit. I knew that this was my chance. Me and Johanna had talked, and this was going to be the way that I make the Capitol pity me and my siblings back home, hopefully drawing in some sympathetic sponsors to help me out in the arena.
“Quite a lot actually.” I answered “Technically, only me, Lily, Oak and Birch are allowed to work since we’re the only ones who are thirteen or older. But, Orchid’s been working as well in the same jobs we do. And even little Rose and Daisy get hired by the merchants to clean homes and stores with my mother.” I seriously hoped that I wasn’t getting my family in trouble back in District Seven for this, but I knew I had to play off of it for sympathy.
“My my, that is sad isn’t it now?” Caesar looked towards the audience, who again nodded and murmured their approval at the sadness of my situation. “So winning these Games really would help your family, no wouldn’t it?”
“Yes. It really would.” I agreed, feigning a tear in my eye. I hated myself for doing this, I hated showing weakness, but I knew I had to do it to get sponsors. Suddenly, I looked at the timer that was offstage and realized that my time was just about up.
“Oh my, well unfortunately that’s all the time we have to talk. But let’s give it up for Chrysanta Davis from District Seven!!” The crowd erupted in cheers as I stood and gave a curtsy before walking calmly off stage while Cedar passed me onto his own interview. I hoped I had done well enough to earn myself a couple more sponsors.
(1,037 words)


Launch:
It was almost time. Almost time for me to be launched into the Hunger Games. Almost time for me to go to my near certain d3ath. I was sitting in the room underneath the arena, and Mariposa was analyzing the outfit that had been provided, trying to figure out what kind of arena there was going to be. It wasn’t really important to know, since I was going into the arena regardless of what it looked like, but it would help me sort out my priorities about what stuff I should try and get from the Cornucopia, if anything at all.
“Well,” Mariposa started, running her hands over the fabric of the outfit before I put the jumpsuit on, “ judging by the lightweight material of the main jumpsuit, I’d expect some warmer temperatures. However, there’s an additional jacket piece, so look out for sudden drops in the temperature, especially in the nighttime. That’s about all I can tell you from the outfit, you should put it on now.” I nodded and took the main jumpsuit from Mariposa, and went into the small changing area, quickly putting on the jumpsuit and walking out into the main area.
Without anything else to do, I started pacing back and forth and back and forth, waiting for the imminent voice that would tell me to get into the tube in the front of the room. I took a deep breath, fingering a small golden band, my District token. It was the only thing left from my home, and probably would be my last reminder of the family that I had left behind.
Even as I finished that thought, I was reminded of what Orchid had made me promise before I left District Seven;
“I want you to promise me that you aren’t going into these Games thinking ‘oh well! I’m going to d!e anyway, what's the point of trying!’ I need you to tell me you’re really going to try! Okay?”
“Okay, I promise Orchid.”
Remembering that promise, I knew I couldn’t go into these Games thinking that it would be the end of me. I needed to believe that I was going to make it out, or I was going to have no chance of actually making it home to my family and friends back home.
Suddenly, I heard the voice coming from the speakers that I assumed were all over the place. And I knew what it was going to say, even before it said anything.
“Tributes of the 72nd Hunger Games, please proceed to the holding tubes. Raising into the arena will begin in 60 seconds. And remember, may the odds be ever in your favor.”
May the odds be ever in your favor I thought to myself, bitterly Yeah right. Like anything’s even in our favor. Without another choice, I took a deep breath, grabbed the jacket portion of my outfit, and put it on while I stepped into the tube that would raise me into the arena. In my last moments of relative safety, while the tube closed around me and the 30 second countdown began. I took a deep breath, and said a small prayer to God, sincerely hoping that the faith my mother had taught me as a child was true, and that there was somebody watching out for me as I was risen into the arena to fight to the d3ath.
(566 words)

Bl00dbath:
Once I was officially in the arena, I squinted at the bright light that filled my eyes. It was warm, not unbearably hot, but I could tell that Mariposa’s guess about it mostly being a warm arena was most likely going to be correct. I looked around to try and gain my bearings, as the voice continued announcing that the 72nd Hunger Games would commence at the end of the 60 second holographic counter floating above the Cornucopia. It looked like I was in some kind of an abandoned city. That’s obviously what it was. Strangely enough, it sort of looked like… The Capitol? But that couldn’t be right. Why would the Capitol be so run down and abandoned. All around the Capitol-like place were twelve large wedges of land. There were walls separating each of the wedges, and at the entrance of each of the wedges had an archway and a number from one to twelve, in numerical order. What any of that could mean, I had no idea. I didn’t have much time to think about it any more, I saw that the counter was nearing 5 seconds. I had to decide whether I was going into the Cornucopia or whether I was just going to run away. At the last second, I decided I was going to fight my way to the Cornucopia. I would need weapons and food if I was going to survive.
As the timer ended and the buzzing sounded to start the Hunger Games. Immediately, the two tributes on either side of me, the female tribute from District 8 and the male tribute from District 9, both bolted for the closest wedge of land, which happened to be the one with a number five positioned above it. Taking the exact opposite approach, I ran towards the Cornucopia. I grabbed the first backpack that I saw on the ground, a small black one. I looked around and I saw that at least one tribute had already fallen. He was laying on the ground, and the Female district 2 tribute was standing over him with a kn!fe in her hand. I dashed away from her, and when I saw a pack of kn!ves on the ground, I picked it up and pulled one of the throwing kn!ves out of the pack. Looking around to see if there was anything else I should grab, I noticed a small pack of packaged water bottles, and right next to that was a bag of beef jerky. Quickly, I reached out and snatched both things, throwing them into the backpack before running as fast as I could away from the cornucopia. I was hoping to get away without having to confront another tribute, because I honestly didn’t want to take the chance of having to fight right off the bat. Unfortunately, before I made it to the archway marked with the number 7, I had picked that one to focus on simply because it was the one closest to where I had been grabbing stuff from the cornucopia. Before I could make it to the number seven archway, I found myself face to face with the female tribute from District Four. The girl didn’t say anything, but was holding a sword and I did not like the look that she had in her eyes. Not waiting for her to strike first, I took the kn!fe that I had taken from the pack I’d grabbed, and without thinking so that I couldn’t second guess myself I threw the knife towards her and then ran away before even seeing what the outcome was going to be.
Since my way to the Seven archway was blocked, I ran to the second closest one, which happened to be the Eleven archway. I ran as fast as I possibly could for as long as I possibly could. I jumped and climbed over all of the rubble in this destroyed city arena. There were blown up buildings all around me and a bunch of rubble all over the road in which I was running in. After running for probably a solid ten minutes, I stopped, physically unable to continue running any further. I looked around, and luckily it seemed as though I was alone in this area of the arena. After taking a few minutes to catch my breath, I sat on a large piece of rubble to see all that I had collected from the cornucopia, sincerely hoping that it was all going to be helpful. I opened the backpack that I had grabbed from the cornucopia and dumped the contents out in front of me to see what I had gotten. Along with the pack of throwing kn!fes that I had thrown into the backpack as I was running, as well as the few bottles of water and a bit of food that had also been thrown into my bag as I ran, I found a sleeping bag, a bottle of iodine that I could use to sterilize water once I ran out of bottled water, some rope, some odd sunglasses that I’d seen in previous Games before; they allowed tributes to see in the dark, which would be extremely helpful. Finally, the last item in my pack was…
Oh my gosh! I thought, pulling out the last item and staring in amazement, A lighter! A lighter was going to be extremely helpful! I wouldn’t have to struggle to set f!res to help keep warm during the night since I had this lighter! That was by far one of the best items in this backpack that I’d found. As I started packing back up my backpack, I made sure that everything was easily accessible so that I could grab it whenever I needed to. Then I took the pack of throwing kn!ves and put the pack over my shoulder, making sure that the actual pack was hanging on my side to make sure that they were easily accessible. After that, I stood back up, threw the backpack over my shoulders and then set off in search of a place to set up camp for the night.
The Games had truly begun.
(1,035 Words)

Day 2:
I had survived one night in the arena without running into any other tributes or anything else that the Capitol had sent my way. And I knew that even though it had only been a day, I knew that it was only going to be a matter of time before the Capitol sent something my way, because I knew that in the eyes of the Gamemakers and of all the other Capitol viewers, I was being boring. I wasn’t being entertaining, and that was what the Games were all about. The entire day, I was completely on edge, constantly looking around corners of the buildings that were basically rubble to make sure that there were no surprises waiting for me around the corner. And even though I was cautious, I knew it was only a matter of time before something or someone snuck up on me, or until the Capitol manipulated the arena to make sure that I did something interesting. Especially if the other tributes in the Games were doing as much of nothing as I was; if everyone else was doing the same thing I was, just wandering around and waiting for the Capitol to do something, or trying to gather the basic supplies that we would need to survive natural causes for the next couple of weeks, then the Gamemakers were definitely going to have to do something to make sure that we all did something interesting before the Capitol started getting bored. I took a quick peek around a corner and jumped back as I saw a tribute lying on the ground. For a second, I wondered if this tribute was possibly d3ad. I took a step towards them, and realized that it was the District Eleven female tribute, her name was Rye I think? I took a kn!fe from the pack that was hanging around my waist, and I gently poked her side with the handle of the kn!fe.
“Hey, are you alive?” I asked, jumping back as soon as I touched her in case she was trying to attack people by acting like she was d3ad; it was a solid possibility. However, the girl shot up and as soon as she saw me, she started screaming absolute bl00dy m^rder. Immediately, I ran over and slammed a hand over her mouth before the id!ot could attract any more attention to our location.
“Be quiet!” I hissed, the girl continued struggling, but it didn’t seem like she had a we@pon, so I knew that there wasn’t a chance of her k!lling me. “Look! I’m not going to hurt you! Just be quiet before someone else who WILL hurt us comes along! Ok?” The girl stopped struggling and nodded her head. Finally, after another moment or so after making sure that nobody had heard Rye’s screaming, I took my hand off her mouth. As soon as I did, Rye jumped away and faced me, her hands up in front of her face, seemingly to try and protect it.
“Please don’t hurt me!” She cried, taking another step back
“Chill out.” I muttered, rolling my eyes and putting the kn!fe back in the pack that was hanging around my waist. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I have absolutely no desire to hurt you, okay?” Rye nodded and slowly lowered her hands before staring up at me; she was much shorter than me. So I could only assume she was way younger than me “How old are you anyway kid?” I inquired, taking a seat on a piece of rubble across from Rye, making sure to keep a hand on my kn!fe pack just in case she tried to pull something, or someone came because they’d heard her screams.
“I’m twelve.” Rye responded anxiously, taking a seat across from me “You’re really not going to hurt me?”
“Promise.” I responded, I mostly wanted to see what Rye knew about this arena. However, I didn’t want to make any kind of alliance with her, I just needed to know if there was anything useful that Rye knew that could help me survive these Games.
(692 Words)

Day 3:
I have a do-over and so I’m skipping this challenge in the word crawl ;D

Day 4
As I continued sitting there staring at the twelve year old District Eleven girl. Rye looked back at me with wide eyes.
“Wait…” She asked, tilting her head in slight confusion “Why aren’t you trying to ki// me… I’m an easy target… And one less person you have to deal with in the Games.” As the girl asked this question, she stood up and took a large step back, obviously thinking that she might have just given me some ideas on why I should eliminate her.
“Well, I need to know what you know about this freaking arena.” I answered simply, not bothering to hide my true intentions, I didn’t want this girl to get attached to me and think that I would come and protect her when she needed it. Because obviously I wouldn't, she was my opponent in this game, and if I wanted to win and I wanted to get back home to my family, then I needed to go through these games completely solo.
“What do you want to know?” Rye inquired, looking back at me and taking a seat back down on the rubble where she had been before
“Do you know, or have any kind of idea, why the archways are numbered. The ones around the Cornucopia.”
“Well… I don’t know for sure.” Rye started, “But most of the tributes think that it has something to do with the Districts. You know, because it only goes up to twelve. And there are twelve Districts and all that. But nobody can figure out if it means anything, or if it was just some kind of a design choice that the Gamemakers made to make the Games look even more interesting this year.”
“You know there’s gotta be something more to the District thing if that’s really what it is.” I responded, not believing for a second that the Gamemakers would only do it for the visual effects. I’d watched too many Hunger Games in the past to ever think that that’d be even a remote possibility. “It’s probably got something to do with whatever traps they’ve got set up within each of these wedges or whatever you wanna call them.”
“Oh… Well… Maybe you're right.” Rye nodded “We’re in the Eleven archway… So… District Eleven. What kind of traps do you think the Gamemakers set up here?”
“Girl, I have no idea… And honestly, I hope we never have to find out.” I answered, taking a kn!fe from the pack and spinning it around my fingers absentmindedly, trying to figure out what on earth the Gamemaker could be planning for us crazy tributes.
(439 Words)

Day 5:
I have another do over so I’m skipping this one as well

Day 6:
It was day six in the arena. I had run out of water a few days ago, and I was nearly out of iodine to sterilize new water. I knew that if these games didn’t end sometime soon, then I was going to meet my end due to sup!d dehydration. I decided I needed to get out of the District Eleven section of the arena since I had been there for a few days and the Gamemakers were sure going to try and flush me out soon anyways. So, I walked for a good couple of minutes until I came to the entrance into the cornucopia area, I looked out and noticed the Career tributes were camped out by the entrance to the District Two archway, which was on the other side of the arena from where I was. I knew that if I ran out towards any one of the archways, they were going to notice me and they were going to chase after me. If I was going to have any chance of having another day to live, I was going to have to either fight them, or have to run EXTREMELY fast for as far as I could for as long as I could. Or, the other option was that I could go back into the District Elven section of the wedge, clock like arena shape. However, I knew that if I did go back into the District Eleven section, that the Gamemakers were for sure going to try and flush me out now that they knew I was actively avoiding contact, and that was something that they couldn’t allow since the Capitol people would be extremely disappointed.
So, taking any kind of way out other than fighting or running wasn’t going to end well. And in fact, even just trying to run away as fast as I could might not end well. Because, honestly, not the Gamemakers might just make me try and fight the Careers even though it would most likely end with my dem!se. They didn’t care though, they just wanted to give the freaking Capitol people a good show to entertain them. Before I could think anymore of anything else, I just started dashing towards the District Four archway as fast as I possibly could. I heard the Careers tell each other that there was another tribute to chase, and I heard them all coming after me. I ran as fast as I possibly could, trying my very best not to trip over any of the rubble that was all around me in the District Section wedge. I ran and I ran and I ran, but I knew that in the end I was either going to trip or I was going to run out of air and have to stop, and by then I was going to do much too tired to fight off the Careers. So really, the only thing that I could really do was stop and try and fight them. And that’s exactly what I decided that I was going to do. If I wasn’t going to return home, if I was going to d!e here and now, then I was going to go down fighting. And while I knew it was going to be hard for my siblings and parents to watch me d!e back home, I refused to let my siblings see me go down like a coward. So, before I could change my mind, I turned around, and held up two sharp kn!ves from the pack around my waist. Immediately, I was swarmed by the male and female tributes from both Districts 1 and 2. They all looked and laughed as they held their much larger, much more powerful weapons. As I stared them down, I knew that this was going to be where I met my end. So, before they attacked me, I looked up into the sky, hoping that the cameras and microphones would catch my last words to my siblings.
“Lily, Oak, Orchid, Daisy, Rose, I love you all so much. Look after eachother okay?” And as the female tribute from District 2 came up with her sword I looked up and said one more thing “Orchid, I tried.” I smiled and accepted my fate as the sword came down and I was sent home at last.
(729 Words)

Total of: 8,254 Words

daily, 313 words!

Today I bring it to you… the majestic Flying-Armored Penguin! This animal is a combination of my least favorite animal and my absolute favorite animal! These would be penguins and cockroaches. I think you can tell which is the favored and not favored animal here. This penguin is a very special type of penguin. Having the power of the cockroach, they can fly. It's honestly truly always been my dream for penguins to fly. They are birds, after all, but now I've I mean, the cockroaches have given them a signature bird power that is wonderful and amazing. They can fly low over bodies of water, and plunge down to hunt. And their next new power kind of has to do with hunting… the hunting of other animals. The deadly and scary powerful orca hunt them, along with many other animals wanting to have a nice meal of flying armored penguins, whether it be breakfast, lunch, or dinner. So now for their protection, the flying armored penguin has a shell along the black parts of its body. They still have their camouflage techniques, to blend in with the sky or the sea. This shell or shield protects them from predators trying to get a bite. So as you can see, the Flying Armored Penguins are amazing and cool and magical creatures, even better than the normal penguins. And of course, they are wonderfully cute, just like normal penguins. They are super amazing and are helping to keep the penguin population thriving! They will also help defend other species of penguins because they are respectful of other types of penguins. But of course, us humans having our opinions, the Flying Armored Penguins are the best. Even though they never let it get to their head, which makes them even better. They can fly and have a shield, which are its two new upgrades!

Word War 5 min -

So when I searched up what holiday it is It says it's national incredible kid day. I think this is super cool> So I am going to write an excerpt about the holiday's meanings. I think that the holiday means that we are allowed to be awesome as a child- unless you are not a child. Then it means to appreciate the holiday and ignore all the naughty things your child or a child you know does. Let's say for example. Bob is a kid. And it is today. The holiday says that all people should respect awesome kids. How to identify awesome kids: 1. They dress weird. 2. They look weird. 3. They idolize spongebob 4. They act super sassy and awesome at the same time, like a giant burrito bowl. 5. They can be extremely sensitive or annoying when they want to be. 6. They like my little pony, or mlp. I think that my favorite is out of all of these. They have an impeccable taste in who they are voting for. Idk what the voting is about. It just exists. Then they also know who the best my little pony character is. Obviously, derpy. She is a yellow haired gray pony, who lives in the town of ponyville. She has many jobs, as she is shown as doing the following jobs: Flyer, Wonderbolt tryouts, cake deliveroo, party guest, and others.

daily:

331 words

two animals: red panda, cockroach

The ugliest creature of all, the rockpandroach. A rockpandroach has cockroach skin, with a furry cover. It purrs a lot for some reason, it may be mixed with another species of cat. It's slimy, and it's waste smells of dying rats and other mixed substances I wouldn't want to know. Red pandas are cute creatures, and are super cuddly. They have a mixed color of fur with red, white, and black. They are considered small, comparing it to the giant panda. Cockroaches. They're disgusting slimy insects. They feast on your germs, and like to hide in your rooms. *shudder* They also like to hide ANYWHERE in your house. With a combination of these two, it's not pleasant. The rockpandroach feasts on bamboo, found on the forest floor, and will likely eat any kind of toxic substance that's under your sink. Such as Windex, Clorox, and much more. They aren't considered big, and not considered small. They are about the size of a duck, but they are very flexible, and fast. The rockpandaroach is found typically in the deep forest, but they can live in any climate. The rockpandaroach has no ability to fly, but it can climb trees, rather faster than others, and can catch prey super easily. The rockpandaroach makes a trap, most likely in the forest, or sometimes around cactuses, that can trap other animals quickly. The trap stuns them and puts it out for about five minutes. the rockpandaroach comes over quickly and feasts on whatever is caught. The rockpandaroach is a omnivore, they eat whatever is put in front of them, or whatever that is available. They do prefer meat though, and not that much vegetables. They normally do feast on vegetables though, since they are most commonly found in the forest. In most people's opinions, they are pretty ugly, and are not healthy, but, a study has shown that more than half of the world are fine with rockpandaroaches. What is your opinion on this animal?

swc daily - march 22
words: 652
animal: capider (cross between a cat and a spider)

Pet capiders are increasing in popularity in many states- a trend most credit as being started by the state of Saltaker, Elevenation. However, some capiders branded as pets are just venomous capiders taken from the wild instead of the non-venomous capiders that were specially bred as non-venomous pets. So, if you want to take care of a pet capider, how can you tell the different types of capiders apart and make sure that you aren’t bringing a dangerous creature home with you?
The first warning sign is if the “pet” capider in question has strange markings- for example, a red eye-like marking on their back or what are commonly known as “spectacles of doom” in Saltaker around their eyes (cyan-colored “glasses” markings). A comprehensive list of these telltale markings can be found on the Elevenation Pet Safety Department (EPSD)’s website, but the most venomous capiders have either the “red eye” mark or “spectacles of doom”.
Another warning sign you should keep in mind is if the “pet” capider you are inspecting has a tendency to attempt to bite you. An easy way to tell (without putting you at risk of being bitten and possibly mildly or severely poisoned/injured) if the capider wants to attempt to bite you is if you put a stick within ten inches of their face and move it around. If, after two minutes of doing this with a variety of materials, the capider has not attempted to bite the stick even once, it is likely non-venomous. Most pet-bred capiders are used to humans and are naturally not aggressive, while non-pet-bred capiders are more naturally aggressive since biting unwary creatures is how they survive.
Once you know that the capider isn’t venomous, you need to know how to take care of a pet capider before you can take one home with you. There are many essential things you need to know, and for an in-depth tutorial you can check out the EPSD’s articles about taking care of capiders. A short summary of your capider’s needs would be a room with a way to adjust the temperature, plants to help them feel more at home, a trustworthy brand of pet feed, monthly fur-cuts, and a yearly checkup with the vet.
Since many capiders live in warmer forested climates, if you live in colder conditions you will need a uniform heater and lots of tall, sturdy plants for the capider to climb (at least three per room, but the amount may vary depending on the size) to make them feel more at home in an unfamiliar environment. While capiders can’t fly, they can climb vertically and jump as high as a cat can.
Many brands of capider feed aren’t trustworthy, and there is a lot of misinformation going around the web right now. The EPSD has an article about how to fact-check the labels on pet feed, which will be summed up here as well. The only department that approves pet feed is the EPSD, though not having EPSD certification isn’t an immediate disqualification (sometimes the EPSD might be late in testing the feed or in progress and the packaging hasn’t been updated yet), though brands that have some variation of “Best Capider Feed” on the packaging are likely twisting the truth since the EPSD doesn’t rank pet feed. EPSD seals are individually stamped on with a special black ink that glows blue in the dark, and slight variations are valid.
Capiders naturally have fast-growing fur, and most capiders need trimming after a month or so. A good rule of thumb is to trim their fur after it grows past one and a half inches, though this may have to be adjusted depending on veterinarian recommendations.
Taking care of a capider is a task that requires a surprising amount of dedication and effort, but if you work hard and use trustworthy information, you will be able to do it.

daily for march 22 (gosh this time difference is tripping me up)
i combined a cat and a hyena :0 - 329 words
no, the wonderful catyena doesn’t exist, but i did have fun making this ;DD
— —

You see a blur of fur dart into a nearby bush in your peripheral vision. You whip around as you hear a laugh, not one of a human, but more of a cackle coming from an animal. And then, out from behind a small bush, a small cat-looking creature stalks out, with beige fur and dark brown spots. You would say it’s a slightly-odd looking hyena, but its green eyes were ones of a cat, and it didn’t have that horrible smell that hyenas always carried around. At first, you were scared, but now you’re simply puzzled. What on earth was this strange yet intriguing creature? It softly cackles again, then darts back into a bush. You leave that day, more confused than ever. You knew that this would be bugging you for the next few weeks.

After doing some research later that evening, you find out what this creature really was. …a catyena! Ah, yes, the wonderful catyena! An amazing animal that looks and sounds similar to a hyena, but being a ‘picky eater’, it only eats the freshest food it can find. You find out that they typically live in sparse forests in or near the savannah, usually only coming out when the sun is high in the sky. They live either alone or with a mate, in caves or under tree stumps. Once they eventually have children, they teach their kids how to hunt and survive on their own, for about 3 years until they eventually release them into the wild to be free. As you scroll down further on this website, you notice that catyenas are actually very endangered. Only a few have been spotted, and most people think that it’s their eating habits that have made them start to dwindle. They only eat food that has just been killed, so they won’t save anything.

You smile, sit back and cross your arms. Catyenas. Well, you think, I guess you learn something new every day.

~Writing Competition Entry~
Soar
Word count: 885
Main Thread: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6081187/

Prologue: Sam Welstal
Malicious girl, that princess. Twenty and some years she’s lived, tormenting whoever she can find.
And she’s found me.
I gaze back at my daughter, 15, and my son, 10. They’re playing in the yard. Unaware of their father’s past. Unaware of the woman that stood before him and just how maleficent she was.
I wouldn’t let her ruin them.
“No.”
Her arrogant smirk turns sour, and she furrows her brows. “No? I believe you’re mistaken, Samuel.”
“I am not.” I reply, my hand on my sword’s hilt.
“I could have your wings severed. I could say you tried to harm me. You could do nothing. My father will listen to me over you.”
“He knows that you’re not right in the mind.”
“He knows nothing. He buys all my potion ingredients for me.”
I scoff. “Thinking that they’re science projects.”
“Do not disrespect me!” She conjured a sword into her hand.
Child of the devil.
“I will have your wings severed here and now!” She cries, brandishing the hellish weapon.
I didn’t respond. She didn’t deserve recognition.
She gave a demented shriek and lunged for me, eyes blazing red.

Silence.

Chapter One: Ziff Welstal
“Ziff! I’m home!” My sister called out from the front yard. I perked up and put aside my wood work. I jumped up and grabbed the door handle, zipping outside. I hit one of my wings on the wall in the process, but I didn’t care.
“Elmina!” I shouted joyfully.
She brought me in for a hug, then she placed her hands on my shoulders. “Did you miss me?”
“Yeah, I did.” I grabbed her luggage and helped her bring it into the house.
Elmina breathed in deep, exhaling happily while flexing her raven black wings. “It’s good to be home.”
I grinned and put her bags in her room. She would be able to stay for another week this time.
I rejoined her in the living room. “So, tell me about what’s going on right now.”
She plopped onto the couch and patted the seat next to her. I sat.
She started, “Well, for starters, the king is getting intel about the war. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do these visits.” She sighed. I didn’t say anything and she continued, “But, on a brighter note, I’ve been promoted.”
“Really? To what position?” I asked.
“I’m the personal guard of the Princess!”
“Really?” My eyes nearly popped out of my sockets. That was a high position.
“Yeah! I talked to her, and she seemed really nice. She’s going to make a great queen if her father dies.”
“That’s pretty awesome.” I said. “Do you want some food?”
“I’m starving for some real food.” She stood up and rushed to the kitchen.
What did she usually eat then?

Chapter Two: Elmina Welstal
I hate lying. I watched Ziff whittle away at his newest wooden dagger. He said that even though they were made of wood, they made for good hunting tools. He, however, treasured the knife he had from our dad. When we found dad dead inside the house, the first thing 10 year old Ziff did was grab dad’s sword and knife and bring them inside his room to clean. He refused to let dad’s memory disappear.
I knew the real reason that dad was dead. I had to lie to Ziff’s face. I hated lying to him. Lie to anyone else, then that’s okay if it’s for the right reason. But with Ziff…
I sighed and put my elbows on the porch railing, flexing my wings.
Ziff looked up at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m okay.”

I went into my room and grabbed my suitcase. I opened it and grabbed my clothes, stuffing them into my old drawers, though I did have to brush out a spider or two first. I glanced around myself, then darted to my suitcase and grabbed the gem, stuffing it under my shirts. Hopefully it would be safe there. There was nowhere else I could put it that Ziff wouldn’t check every once and a while. Except maybe under the bed.

Chapter Three: Ziff
“Hey, Elmina.” I said over dinner. “Did anything notable happen while you were gone?”
“Well, yeah, things did happen.” She said, “I had to go on this mission that required me to dye my wings skin color and hide them under a coat. It was so painful.”
“Really? What else?”
“Well, since I’m now the Princess’s protector, I have to supervise her combat and flying practice, though she’s really exceptional. She’s older than me, but the king was this impressed by my work that he placed me with her.”
My eyes widened. That sounded awesome. “Wow.”
“He also said that I could advance to an even higher rank, part of his guard, if I did well.”
“Wow… that must be so awesome, knowing that even if you don’t do the absolute best, you’re still in such a good position. How much do you get paid?”
“Seven Lilins per hour.”
My eyes widened. “That’s a lot.”
“Yeah, it is. I’ll be able to send you food and clothes, plus some weapon making supplies if you want.”
“That would be awesome!”
She grinned. “It would.”

Then there was a knife at my neck.

Daily 3/22/22 - 305 words

Puppy + Snake = Pupsnake? :0 (idk there's not a lot of good options…)

A Pupsnake, is as it's name suggests, a combination of a puppy and a snake, were first created when a genetic experiment attempted to combine the best traits of both into a new species. Why anyone would ever attempt such a thing, no one is entirely sure, and the subject of whether or not it succeeded is up for debate. This peculiar animal is much like a puppy in appearance, sharing its soft fur, adorable eyes, eyes, and nose, and soft tail, but also has a baby snake's fangs. Interestingly enough, these animals remain what would be considered children of the original species for the duration of their lives. Scientists specular that the genes they took either did not have full instructions for growing, or epigenetics have simply hidden them away. Given that they are not a natural species, Pupsnakes have no natural habitat, and instead have largely lived in labs and the occasion brave scientist's house. They are exceptionally chaotic creatures, and appear to be extremely prone to disaster. They are also mischief makers in chief, and cause all sorts of trouble, from breaking out of their cages in the middle of the night to adding pepper to their master's tea. They appear to be oddly intelligent, which isn't entirely surprising given that dogs are pretty intelligent as far as animals go, but the level of thinking demonstrated by these creatures is unprecedented. While certain feats they have achieved may be shared by other animals, their capabilities remain beyond any others we have seen thus far. It is speculated to the original goal to provide some sort of pet with a superior ability to defend itself, but the few who have ever had the pleasure of observing the Pupsnakes are highly doubtful that this will ever happen, which is to say, it won't happen.

3/22: Take your favourite animal and least favourite animal, then mix features of the two together to create a new animal! Flesh out some details about it - what does it look like? How does it behave? What climates does it live in? How does it integrate with your world? - before writing a 300 word piece featuring this new animal. Share what your animal was a combination of and a few details about it to receive 500 points for your cabin!

“Meet the red pider: a combination of a red panda and a spider, which is, ironically, one of the cutest and scariest animals in the world. Its legs are spindly and spider-like— thin, hairy, and have eight of each. And, despite their spider-like characteristics, its legs are actually covered with fur colored red, white, and black, like a red panda’s, so they aren’t as scary as they can be. The fur is soft, like the rest of the red pider’s body, and can be fluffy and cute once you’re comfortable enough to stare at it more. Its face depicts a red panda’s head, which is adorable with its red fur, white striped pattern, and irresistible black eyes that can make any animal lover squeal. However, its furry, adorable appearance is only one of its many tricks to deceive and bamboozle its onlookers. Once it gets close to you, the red pider lunges and almost always succeeds in biting down their long, sharp teeth into its victim’s arm. The screams and howls of pain the unlucky victim releases doesn’t even measure up to the unthinkable pain of the illness they receive from the bite. As soon as the poison enters their system, they have three days to live— all of which are filled with incurable agony that never stops or lowers; it only increases. If joined in colonies, packs of red piders can be increasingly powerful and dangerous— for obvious reasons. For example, if they stumble upon a large town, they can bite every single citizen in the span of a week or less, causing every single one of them to fall ill and die later. This can be especially bad if they are immigrated or somehow spread to other places, causing a third of the Earth to suffer, and then a half, until none remain. This is why, if spotted, you should do your best to make sure you don’t get too close to them, and, if possible, make sure it’ll become hard for them to reproduce. Scientists are trying their best, of course, but, if it comes to the point when you spot red piders daily out in your front yard, follow these tips to stay safe. Remember, scientists are hard at work and will give an update soon on the current status of this situation. So, stay calm, stay alert, and stay safe. This is Tony, signing out.”

Secrets Kept Unsent
Writing Comp. Entry
Word Count: 1263

Lily’s mother, Margaret, had passed away mysteriously at a young age. Lily is only thirteen years old, and her mother’s d3ath left her heartbroken. She never knew her father. Her mother always talked about how handsome and sweet he was but never talked about where he was. Lily just assumed that he passed away and her mother didn’t like to talk about it. She also never knew her grandparents on her mother’s side. Her mother never talked about them, and told her to hush whenever Lily brought up the topic.

Lily walked into her mother’s bedroom and looked around. She was the only person in her mother’s will, so all of these things were hers. All of her clothes, her money, her house- everything. Lily checked inside her mother’s closet, trying to hold back tears. The aroma of her perfume filled the air as her clothes sat there silently and still. But in the back of the closet, Lily noticed something. It was a small shoebox with the words, ‘Unsent Letters’ in black ink on the top in neat handwriting. Curious, Lily opened the box to find letters neatly stacked. She read the first one, interested in what unsent letters her mother had.

Dear Rebecca,

I don’t even want to call you my mother. You are to be addressed by your first name. Why did you have to give up on me like that? I don’t want to hear the excuse that you were poor, because you were the most famous person in the city. You abandoned me when I was just four years old. Four. Years. Old. You didn’t even send me to an orphanage, all you did was put me on the dirty streets to d!e! And then you dared to tell the public that I passed away. How pathetic! I hope all of your fans realize how awful you are. I hate you, and just know that you will never be my real mother. I tried so hard to contact you, and everyone thought I was crazy claiming to be your daughter. Even the police didn’t believe me, since you were such an idol. I promise that one day you will pay for abandoning me. I swear on my life.

- Margaret

Lily’s eyes widened. So much information, and so quickly. Why didn’t her mother tell her any of this? Did her mother’s mother- Lily’s grandmother do that? Intrigued, Lily read the next letter.

Dear Henry,

Thank you so very much for everything that you did for me. You were the best father I could ever ask for, even if you did just pick me up off of the street. I am so glad that you provided for me, and I don’t think any amount of money could ever repay you. You tried your absolute hardest to make sure I had an outstanding life, so thank you, Henry. But, I would like to apologize for running away. I caught a train to another town and decided to start a new life. I was a spontaneous teenager back then, and I hope you forgive me for just running away like that. I hope I get to see you again someday. Thank you and apologies once again, father.

Much love, Margaret

Lily put that letter to the side, picking up the next one. These unsent letters her mother wrote were like a book, each letter a new chapter. She never knew that any of these events happened in her mother’s life, at all! She began reading who the next one was addressed to.

To the love of my life,

Lily got very excited about this. The love of her mother’s life could be her father! She sat up straight, reading the rest of the letter silently.

Oh Stefan, how I love you. I remember meeting you on the train and instantly fell in love. I remember how I felt when you asked me out for dinner, then asked me to be your girlfriend. If only I could relive that… I wish I could. I want to apologize for throwing you under the bus. You have to understand that it was for our child. When I told you I was pregnant, you were the happiest man on planet Earth, and I didn’t want to make you and I live through the fact that we failed to raise our child. I thought that if one parent was there for our child, it would be alright. I know it was wrong to put all the blame on you when we got confronted with our plan, but I didn’t want to go to jail as a pregnant mother! I didn’t want our child to not know who their parents are because they’re both in prison. I know what it feels like to not be cared for by your mother, and I didn’t want our child to feel like that. I’m sorry that you’re in jail because of me. I just hope you understand it was for our child! I hope you’re doing okay in prison, darling. Hopefully, you’ll allow me to visit you sometime soon. I know that you hate me but I love you and I always will.

Sincerely, Margaret

Lily’s hands trembled. Was Stefan was her father? In jail? All this time she thought he was d3ad, but he’s actually in jail? Because of her mother? Lily was still trying to wrap her head around this and thought the next letter might give more information.

Dear Julie,

I thought I could trust you, but apparently, I couldn’t. I remember when we became friends in the first place. We met at the farmer’s market and instantly connected. Stefan, you, and I were like the golden trio. We went everywhere together. What made you rat us out to the cops? When I made the genius plan to k!ll my mother, you and Stefan agreed to help me if anything went wrong. It’s because of you that the love of my life is in jail, and his child didn’t even get to meet him! How sick of you! We could’ve successfully murd3red my mother if it wasn’t for you. I thought you were my best friend, but you told the police everything about my plan. You told them what time, what day, what weapon, and everything. Everything would’ve been okay if it wasn’t for you. I would’ve been in a happy family with Stefan, but no.

- Margaret

By now Lily had chicken skin. She was creeped out, but also amazed. Just four letters gave Lily a general idea about her mother’s life, and all of her ups and downs. The people she betrayed, and the people who betrayed her. She had no idea her mother would plan a murd3r, and had no idea that her grandmother abandoned her mother! All these things her mother was hiding…

Lily could hear footsteps coming, and knew it was probably her grandparents on her father’s side. They are her new guardians, now that her mother’s gone and her father’s in jail. Lily didn’t know if they knew why or how their son went to jail- or even knew that he was in jail- so quickly put the letters back into the shoebox.

“Lily…” It was her grandmother and grandfather. “The forensic pathologist determined that your mother was murd3red,” they said in a sad tone. “There is an ongoing investigation to figure out who did it.
Lily glared at the shoebox, then back at her grandparents.
“Rebecca…” she whispered, declaring war on her mother’s mother. “I’ll finish what my mother started.”

The Golden Locket
SWC writing competition entry
1811 words



⠀⠀⠀“Amelia, cook breakfast for your brothers' ‘ yelled my stepmother, Edith. I sighed and walked slowly down the stairs. Edith was always giving me chores to do, wash the dishes, sweep the floor, cook for the family and I could go on for ages. My three stepbrothers didn’t care, they just teased me. My stepfather was usually busy with his work, I bet he didn't care either. He was a lawyer and was busy with cases.

“I’m tired, can’t any of them cook please” I asked. I was technically telling the truth, I had stayed up all night reading Matilda, an old torn book which Oren had torn. Even though Matilda didn't have a good mother, a one that cared, she had one, and she had that kind Miss Honey. How lucky she was!

Well I had a mother too, her name was Emmeline Brown. I always wanted to know more about her but no one knew how she died or who she even was. I thought that was really mysterious. From what Edith says, my mom died a week after I was born. I had a picture of her, from a christmas party in Willington, a couple miles across from here. She was in the middle, a fair skinned, blue eyed and blonde haired girl. Her eyes were kind and her smile made you smile as well. I was sure she would never treat me like Edith.

I had placed that picture on the wall of my room. Well, it wasn’t really a room. It was a trapdoor with a tiny space and the smallest closet. It had a tiny circular window which helped me breathe freely. At night, I just stared at the picture and cried, I really missed my mother. The only thing I had left of her was a golden locket. My mom has been wearing it in the picture and Mrs Marling, our neighbour, said she never took it off and gave it to me as soon as I was born. I tightly clutched it in my hands. It made me feel her kind heart and hope.

Drawn from my thoughts and in the present world, Edith hissed “Absolutely not a young girl, and just for that, you can have no meals for the day. I dragged my feet across to the kitchen and took the frying pan from the tiny drawer. “Oooh, poor Amy has to cook pancakes, right boys?” Percy sneered and stuck his tongue out at me. The other two brothers followed and agreed. I wish I could sneer back at him, but alas, I would get in more trouble. Life was so unfair!

After making pancakes for them, and controlling my temper all the time, and trust me that was hard, I started walking to keep the pan back, but then I completely lost it.

“Oh, Amy’s rotten pancakes, sorry stomach, maybe maple syrup will help, Cook Amy, can you fetch it?” said Joey, the youngest brother, ten years old.

I roughly turned around and spoke angrily to him. “ You, make your own food if you want to criticise. Get your own maple syrup and stop calling me Amy” I shouted. Then, I did a thing which I would always regret, I swung the frying pan which went down to his stomach.











“Ouch, you mean thing” he cried and clutched his stomach. I immediately felt guilty. “I-I didn't mean it” I tried to mumble, but the words didn't come out of my mouth. They had troubled me so much, they deserved it. Then, came more trouble, Edith came into the kitchen.

“Amelia Brown, who do you think you are?” Edith screamed running towards Joey. “A person better than you” I muttered under my breath. “Off to your room, now!” she hissed like a snake, again and grabbed me by my arm. She literally dragged me to my room and pushed me inside. I sulked.

Then I heard the sound of jingling keys outside and the key locking the door shut. Great, just great!

I looked around my tiny room. A wall filled with pictures of space and sports, two of my favourite things. In the middle, the picture of my mother was there. Then, I had a tiny shelf with my books, and my small closet with torn rags. I had a bed too, a small one with a hard mattress. I even had a desk, well not really, it was a shelf but I used the surface as a desk and an old brown chair. As I had nothing to do, I did my homework.

Even though I had a mean family, my stepfather was decent enough to give me education and put me in a school. There were only two schools in Dolin, both expensive so he didn't have a choice. I was in Wayside High, grade nine. The school was fairly good, neat classrooms, kind teachers, a huge library filled with books and a cafeteria.

Miss Jupiter was our class teacher and she was very nice. She always thought more of learning life lessons than normal lessons which any teacher could teach. We had a class called circle time, Miss Juniper’s idea which basically was for teaching life skills. Recently we had been learning about working as a team. She thinks it’s nice to be fair to everyone and collaborate, I disagree. Well, when you have a team with Violet, Rocky and Linda. Violet was like the rudest girl, always sashaying which I hate. Rocky was a known bully, he bullied younger kids and they were all scared of him. I mean, why bully people who didn't do anything wrong? Why bully anyone? Linda is so lazy. She even finds blinking her eyes hard work.

In the school, there were only two people I liked and trusted. Lia and Brandon, my two best friends. I had met Lia on the first day, I was shy at the time and I guess she felt sorry for me so she tried hanging out. At first, she didn't like me, but soon, when we got to know each other, we both realised we liked each other so we became friends. A bit silly really.

Once, we had a group assignment to do, a presentation on Bees and their species. I was good at school, I got A’s at everything. Brandon, on the other hand, was the exact opposite, he tried hard but just couldn’t improve. Feeling sorry for him, I used my group project time to help him and he actually improved. He was really happy and then we started chatting, and well, we all became a group.

Thinking about all this, something interrupted me. A noise, more like a message ping.

I realised it must have come from my cell phone, someone must have texted me.

Now how do I have a phone you may ask? Well, my neighbour Mrs Marling is kind unlike the others, on my 13th birthday she gifted me this and with annoyance Edith could not stop her. Usually only Bradon and Lia text me, so I supposed it’ll be from them. I switched on the phone and opened my messages, and my jaw dropped when I saw the text on screen.

“You are in danger”- By Unknown






















What was that? Danger? Who sent it?

I was so curious right now, and worried. What if this unknown person is correct? I started worrying my mind a lot. Thinking about it, I thought of a simple answer: the person might be messaging someone else and send this to me by mistake, but I wasn’t so sure.

Then, I heard the lock opening and in came Edith. I was surprised, usually she’s really nasty and grounds me for a week except school.

“This house does not have space for you, I cannot take care of you” started Edith, eyeing me beadily. Well, I didn't want her either. “I can’t send you to a boarding school as the one we chose accepts people 15 and above, so instead I found a nice man who teaches bird watching. You'll be joining him after school for one hour with a few other kids, then you’ll be going to have ballet,” she ended. What? Ballet and birdwatching? I hated ballet and I sprained my ankle the other day. Also, birdwatching was so boring! I didn't want to do any of those things.

“If you complain at all, there’s always somewhere else you can go to” she said, in a fake sweet voice. I knew I could not trust her, so I just mumbled back and she went back, closing the door.

I knew I’d have to control myself and take those classes. I was just irritated with an unknown sender telling Edith I'm in danger and Edith. I only knew one solution for this problem, reading. I picked out the book from the shelf, the one I recently got issued from the library. It was the ‘Secret Seven’ written by Enid blyton. I was a fast reader and I finished the book in half an hour. I liked reading mysteries. I wish I could go on an adventure as well. A daring one, with danger, cool friends, amazing tools and monsters. I knew that was not possible, but I always dreamt of it.

Stepfather gave each of us pocket money every month. My brothers got 2 pounds and I got 50 cents. I was still lucky to get something, I thought that he was better than the others. I ever had something to spend on so I usually just took the money and kept it in a box. I had around 10 pounds till now.

Ring! The doorbell rang and I went to get it, I opened the door and a smile spread across my face, it was Brandon and Lia.

“Hey Amelia, you weren’t replying on text so we got worried and came to see you, how are you?” Brandon said, greeting me. “I'm great, oh text, guys, I need to tell you something, should we go inside first?” I replied, thinking I should tell the story to them.

I silently led my friends to my room, I didn't want anyone knowing that they were here. We all squeezed in my room and I shut the door. “ So, what’s this about?” Lia asked.

“Well, something strange happened” I started and quickly told the story.

“Woah, you mean you shut down your phone cause you were scared about that and that man or whoever said you were in danger?’ Brandon exclaimed. I knew both of them thought it was funny. “ Here, I’ll show you,” I said, trying to give proof. I reached out my phone and shut it back on. I went to the message, and there was another message.

“Give me what I want, or else”- By Unknown

Writing Comp Entry: Bloodstains and Recollections
word count: 1930

author's note
i'm actually really really proud of this! i've got my signature rushed points, but other than that i think it's not half bad. i adapted the premise from a prompt from https://self-publishingschool.com/ which is a wonderful prompt site by the way :D feedback would be nice - though i've labored for so many hours on this that i couldn't stand to make too many changes hehe ^^
anyway - enjoy <3

- -

  “Don’t -
  don’t
  hurt her.
  I’ll do -
  anything
  if it means
  she’s
  safe -
  No!
  sobbing.

  Alabaster walls and benignant viridian eyes are what register first as I struggle to sit up. I’m in bed. There’s a hospital gown, a bracelet. A voice. “Oh, good! You’re awake.” It belongs to the nurse kneeling at my side.
  I cough. I feel lightheaded and dizzy. My head hurts so much.
  “Do you remember anything?” she says softly. “Usually brain operations leave you fuzzy for a few days.”

  Screaming crying brushing fingertips so helpless

  “No,” I manage. My voice is hoarse.
  “At your last appointment, a scan showed that your prefrontal cortex was damaged. You decided to go through with the surgery to repair it. The operation went well, and you’ll be good as new in a few days.” She pats my shoulder. “Get some rest, and tell me if you need anything.”
  I promptly fall asleep as she leaves the room.

  nowhere:
  nowhere to hide
  nowhere to cry
  nowhere to look
  nowhere to be.
  help!

  There are a few moments where I wake up, and the world is blurry. Nurses come in and out, checking on me. On the third day it feels like I’ve slept forever — and like every dream I’ve ever had is a nightmare. At least this time I don’t have to struggle to stay awake, and I feel better. Much better.
  They discharge me in the early afternoon and I stumble a bit as I walk out of the hospital to hail a cab. The only thing I can do during the ride home is try to remember everything. The nurses said that I should do that, to make sure there’s no damage to my brain now that the surgery is done. There’s no empty patches, I think. Except something vague in the background. Something that I’m almost completely sure never happened to me.
  Oh.
  The nurses mentioned that I might have some memories that were passed over from the girl whose brain they had used to repair mine. They said not to worry about those.
  I pay the driver and shuffle into the apartment building. It started to rain during the drive, and my shoes have turned muddy. My fingers find the buttons on the elevator and I’m shot up, up, watching the people on the ground become dolls beneath me. I make it to my room without tripping over my own feet and sit down on the bed, running fingers through my hair.
  Oh.
  The nurses may have forgotten to remind me that my head had to be shaved for the surgery, so I in fact have no hair. And that there’s a huge scar — which I pray isn’t permanent. No wonder people were looking at me like I was a lunatic. I should have worn a hat when I left the hospital.
  Suddenly my mind flashes.

  toward
  an old house
  running past
  a sign that says Slate Lane
  hand in hand
  “i’m gonna win!
  “no way!

  The nurses told me I wasn’t supposed to have much of a recollection of the other girl’s memories, that it should only be vague instincts. But I definitely feel it, plaguing my mind.
  What was that street name again?

  I pull up on Slate Lane and park the car. The old house at the end of the street, I know it. Well — she knew it. And she didn’t like it.
  I’ve never been inside but I know already that there’s a staircase right in the middle. There are dusty rooms at the bottom, with moth-eaten cushions on sofas and high-backed chairs around a dining table. There are threadbare clothes safely tucked away in closets at the top, and beds with comforters that no longer comfort but are great to jump on. An attic invaded by spiderwebs and a shattered window.
  She knew this place, all right.
  I walk slowly toward the house, wondering what sort of memories will awake when I’m inside. What am I doing, showing up at a broken down house to follow some voice in my head that isn’t mine? I pull the beanie I’m wearing further over my head and rap my fist on the door. No answer. I turn the knob and watch it creak open, revealing a home I both know and don’t.

  Giggles, giggles
  echoes and cobwebs
  racing
  up and
  down the
  stairs I’m -
  out of breath?
  but
  in a Good Way

  The steps I take are careful. The wood is rotting away under my feet. I’m immersed by the eerie silence of it all; it didn’t used to sound so empty.
  I hear a voice in my head. “She made it stop being empty.” It provides no further assistance to me.
  She? Who is she?
  I wander through the rooms that I know by heart. That drawer is where the utensils are, that’s the painting that was a cityscape until someone graffitied it into illegible words of pink aerosol. There was a pillow there that had been amateurly embroidered, but some raccoons stole it a few months ago; which is why the back door is broken down. That one is the unstable step on the staircase, and this here is the newel cap that’s so precariously balanced on the post that it comes right off if you push it.
  I sit on the landing and plead with my mind to give me something to work with. Can something trigger it - or will I be waiting here for hours? I look back up at the door. Maybe it’s time to go. But—

  A man
  standing at the bottom
  of the stairs
  And he has a knife.
  no -
  this was supposed
  to be
  our day, our happiness
  no -
  why does he get to ruin it -
  who is he?
  what is it that he wants?
  no -

  It’s then that I notice the dried blood on the door handle. And then I look around. Splatters of it freckle the floor, sunk into the sepia planks. The dark crimson is a sickly color that flips my stomach. I foolishly check my hands for paper cuts or splinters out of habit. But it’s not my blood — of course it’s not.

  no
  it’s mine.

  I run outside and vomit in the bushes.
  The girl in my head, she wasn’t a normal kid. She didn’t just have some horrible illness that made her die that young. She was murdered, three days ago, by a man with a knife.
  Hazily I recall someone else. There’s a second person, I’m sure of it. Younger. A relation? I stare at the house, in its funereal glory, and it stares back. The century-old structure of it is silhouetted by a sun that has decided now would be a good time to near the aureate doom of the horizon. I can’t wait another day. “Tell me something!” I bellow to the edifice.

  she’s right in
  the doorway -
  his hand
  finds
  her arm and
  clenches it tightly.
  she looks to me
  she’s - confused
  “let her go! i yell
  he points
  his weapon at her
  he’ll hurt her.

  By now my earliest sense of adventure has long worn off into a daunting agitation that chips away at my soul, piece by piece by piece. I’m suffering the slow plummet into hopelessness — and it’s one that comes as a package deal with a peculiar world of erratic happenings. Is there nothing I can do? The rains must have washed away any footprints by now.
  But that’s when I see russet tips on a few dried grasses. They stand untouched by the downpour this afternoon. And despite the off chance that it could have been a trap set to avoid exposure, it’s my only lead. I run in that direction. I follow the bloodstains.

  i plead with him, but
  he doesn’t care
  heartless.
  he stops pointing
  the knife at her
  and starts pointing
  it at me.
  i thought it was
  a bluff
  then he throws it
  like a lightning bolt
  my chest hurts
  it really hurts
  and she screams
  but i’m her big sister
  it’s my job
  to take this knife for her.
  pain, blood
  he’s dialing on a phone
  “nine one one, help me
  there’s a girl bleeding out
  on slate lane. he says
  you liar. you did this to me.
  then he leaves with her
  i’m alone
  and dizzy
  i get taken to a hospital
  it’s blurry for hours.

  So it was a sister, a younger one.
  It’s been merely fifteen minutes if not ten when I find myself in the back parking lot of a cafe. I’ve been here dozens of times. It’s a dead end here and there are no more dots of maroon to follow. There’s a storage unit on the left, and parking spots on the right where the trucks unload.
  A storage unit. They don’t use that storage unit anymore.
  I try to figure out how I can peer inside, heart racing. If I’m caught it all goes up in flames; he’d kill me. But there’s only one window. It’s a tiny rectangle that sits near the roof. And the minute I jump to look through it, whoever’s inside will see me.
  Instead, there’s a muffled scream that passes through the structure’s thin walls. She’s there. It must be her. “You killed Tawny!”
  Tawny! I have a name to put to the girl in my head. I need to call the police. They can save the girl in there better than I can. I grab my phone to dial — and then suddenly part of me hesitates.

  don’t call them!
  they knew us
  and they never cared about us
  we were degenerates to them
  because we were on the streets
  they’d side with him

  Okay, I tell the voice, I won’t. I’ll do it myself, then.
  I know I should be getting the girl inside to safety as soon as I can but first I sit outside the storage unit, and I cry for Tawny.

  “You’re going to -
  die. says the nurse
  But there’s a girl
  just five years older than you
  who needs part of
  a brain
  will you help her?
  “would she have
  my memories?
  pause, “a few
  breathe in, out, “okay
  sigh. silent tears.

  Breathe in, out, knock on the door. I hear a fumble and then a crash. I’m waiting for the man to come out, the man with the knife. I’m ready, I tell myself. I’ll just get a good grip on his hand and turn it back toward him. I’ll be fine, the girl will be fine, and everything will turn out okay. Definitely.
  But instead there’s a small shivering brown haired girl who swings open the door. “I think I killed him,” she whispers, eyes wide. “You knocked and he stumbled. I took the knife. I think I killed him.”

  tell them -
  tell them that
  they need to go and
  find my sister.
  i can’t say it
  besides, they wouldn’t
  believe me
  no one else noticed!
  no one else knew!
  but the girl, she’ll
  have the
  Memories
  she’ll save my sister
  if she remembers
  MAKE HER REMEMBER
  MAKE HER MAKE EVERYTHING
  OKAY AGAIN.
  PLEASE
  SAVE NELL.
  crying again, then darkness
  tranquil farewells.

  Nell. That’s her name. “Nell, I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”
  “I miss my sister.” She sniffles a bit and wipes her nose with her hand.
  “I know. You can cry now. I’m here.”
  The tears fall and she buries her face in my chest; I hold her close. Tawny, I swear I’ll take care of her forever.
  I always wanted a younger sister.

Writing Comp Entry

The End of the World

Roaring fire spreads across the Amazon Rainforest. Screams, shouts echo around as the blindingly bright blaze spreads rapidly, speeding towards the city. Smoke, black and suffocating, taints the air. The heat of the fire melts all it touches, like the sun descended onto the earth. “Fire to cleanse. Fire to purify. Fire to begin anew.” The inhuman voice cuts through the din of panic and the crackling of the fire. It is neither male nor female, but it is harsh and sharp. When the voice stops, the fire grows larger and brighter, and the screams resume, this time louder. When the fire stops, extinguished on its own, the entirety of South and North America is scorched, the screams of the people still echoing throughout the lands.

Far away from this place, in Dubai, the sea is churning. Water rises up higher than the tallest building in the world, and there it looms, a wall of water hanging in the horizon, stretching out taller than the eye can see. The wall stretches all around Africa and the Arabic nations.The streets are deserted, every person trembles in their house, praying that the building can keep them safe. The richer people have left, but travel costs so much that no ordinary man can afford to leave. Still, people try to escape on foot. Another voice, this time female, with a voice of steel, yet tinged with regret, speaks. “The seas have risen up. For years humans have befouled and defiled us. Today, today you pay your dues.” The sea crashes into the land, and the waves are larger than imagination. The Great Sahara Desert is flooded, as is the rest of Africa. Deafening silence fills the continent.

The Himalayas are gone. Just… gone. A large mound of rubble lies where the majestic mountains once stood. Oh, but the mountains themselves are not gone, no, far from it. Mount Everest juts out in the middle of Nepal, Kangchenjunga rises in South India. Mountains have popped up all over Asia, giant pillars of rock and stone, looming there ominously. The voice booms, masculine and gruff, but also slightly sad, heard all around the continent. “Stone and rock and jewels and dirt, their value you have forgotten. You have misused my Earth in every way possible. You have sown the seeds of insult, and shall reap the crop. The crop of wrath.” The mountains explode, blasts drowning out the screams. Even after the blasts are over, rocks still fall. The dust hasn’t settled yet, and no one thinks it ever will.

The wind howls through the deserted streets of Europe. People cower in their homes. They have all heard of the disasters that have ravaged the world by now. Europe and Oceania are the only continents that are fit for living, although Europe is less affected by the disasters. Until now. The winds pick up speed. Faster, faster, faster, faster, until- “You humans destroy all you touch, bring all to ruin. Your mistreatment of my winds has been remembered. You must die for your insolence.” The voice is calm, emotionless, and sounds like millions of people speaking in unison.

A heavily scarred Australia is the last refuge of the people, and everyone knows this is where they will strike next.

No one knows what happened to Europe. One second it was there, the next it was wiped from existence.
There are no survivors.
No survivors, except one.
Him.

The electricity surged through his brain, and his body jerked. But he felt nothing. At least, not physically.
His scream echoed around the small, gringy room. It was a poor excuse for a hospital ward, but it would serve. He lay on a creaky, rickety bed. The machine plugged to his head was the only shred of modern equipment in the room.
“No- no, please… Please, I don’t want to- I don’t- Don’t make me live it again… Please, I beg you… NOO!”
He let out a feral yell of rage and anguish as he was pulled back under.

He runs, his clothes dishevelled. It is early in the morning, a Monday. The third of March, two thousand and fifty. The sun is orange, with blue streaks running downwards, the rest of the sky covered in clouds. It seems like the sun itself is weeping for the atrocities that have happened.
He has heard of the destruction of the Americas, Africa and Asia. But life must go on, he has told himself. He has been promised by multiple people that he shall be safe.
He needs to get to the lab. The lab- yes, quickly. He must reach there. The research… the research, the results were- kzzt-

The lab is large, filled with scientists working on their projects. He hurries to the room at the back, the one marked for exclusive personnel only.
“I- I’ve tested the samples.” He says to the woman behind the curtain. She never shows her face, and sometimes he doubts if the voice he's hearing is really her voice at all.
“It’s true, what the man has said. These creatures, the ones who caused the disasters, exist. And they are not human.” His voice trembles as he continues, “There are seven continents in the world. Four of them have been destroyed, two by fire, one by water and one by earth. One continent is uninhabitable. Two remain, Europe and Oceania. One element remains. Wind.”
The woman remains silent, so he continues, “You said the next attack shall be on Oceania. Are you sure about this? What if you’re wrong?”
“I am confident. This was done by humans, and you would be a fool to believe otherwise.” The woman scoffed, “Certain foolish individuals believe it’s the environment taking revenge! No, this is some sort of new nuclear weapon. And the might of Europe is much greater than that of Oceania, so they will be attacked first. Of course, there is the possibility that it is Oceania themselves that are doing this, but I doubt it. I think this is the work of some civilization in Antarctica.”
“But what if…?”
“It is impossible. If this is the work of three beings alone, as you keep telling me, then they must be more than human. But there is nothing superior to humans. Our studies have revealed that much. Therefore, this must be the work of humans.”
She continues, before he can say anything, “You’re wondering why I think it’s a race of people in Antarctica that have done this. It’s because there was a project, long ago, of making Antarctica inhabitable. We chose people who would have no allegiance to any government. That was a mistake. I believe that those people, who went to Antarctica to research it, found something incredible there. And they decided to seize the rest of the world for themselves.”
“You say it is the wind that remains. So tell me, Professor Das, what can some wind do to us?”

“More than you can possibly imagine.”
The voice comes from behind him. It is a strange voice. It sounds like the voices of women and men of all ages speaking in unison. It is devoid of emotion.
“You humans are strange, you think yourselves so powerful, so wise, though you know little and are ants compared to truly superior beings.”
A shot rings out. He cowers behind a table, having hidden there while the voice spoke. Now, he peeks out, trembling. The woman, having stepped out from behind a curtain, has fired a shot, her pistol still smoking. The bullet lies at the creature’s feet, as he laughs.
The creature is tall and humanoid, with white armour snaking around its body. A helmet masks his face, made of the same white material. The armour and helmet are jagged and spiked, making the creature a menacing sight.
“I am the Lord of the Wind, one of the Four Heralds of Doom, and your world shall know pain, pain that you have inflicted on your planet for too long!” The creature’s voice echoes, and then it grows even louder, until it is booming. “You humans destroy all you touch, bring all to ruin. Your mistreatment of my winds has been remembered. You must die for your insolence.”

He is lifted up by the wind, and carried outside the lab, floating beside the creature. The winds carry him high into the sky, so high that he can see the world laid out below him like a map.
“You shall be witness to my power.” The creature tells him. “Watch, as I destroy all you have loved.”
His mouth opens in a soundless cry as Europe seems to slowly evaporate below him. On closer inspection, he realises that the continent is being blown away, piece by piece.
“Where are the pieces going to go?” He manages to croak out.
The creature snaps its fingers. And then there is nothing left of the continent. Just dust.

Professor Karan Das jolted up in the bed, the wire connected to his head torn.
“What happened?” An anxious voice inquired, a voice he recognised as that of Owen, the man who had saved him when he’d washed up on the shores of Australia, his memory wiped.
“I remember.” Das said, his voice grim.
Owen walked into the room, grimacing, “It’s that bad?”
“There are four of them. Four Heralds of Doom come to destroy us because we have misused our resources.”
“We know that already, and also that the Lord of Fire is the most dangerous-”
“No. The Lord of Fire cleanses the land, but the land survives its cleansing. The Lord of the Wind crushes that land into dust with their winds. They are merciless, and the only reason they left me alive was so they could smile with the knowledge that someone had witnessed their power.”
“They didn’t expect us to figure out a way to bring back your memories.”
“No, they didn’t. And for that mistake, they shall lose the war.”

Das got up and walked down the hallway to the ship. A slight jerking of his shoulders was the only indication of surprise as he saw the spaceship fully completed.
“I was out for… What, two weeks?” He asked.
“And a day. The spaceship is built.” Owen answered.
Das laughed mirthlessly, “I can see that. Where are the Heralds?”
Owen’s face turned into a mask, “They came here six days ago. All four of them. They said we would be destroyed in a week. Only two hours remain until that deadline.”
“Good. We have time. Take everybody and get on the ship. Get it moving. The second they see you leaving, they’ll attack.”
“I know, but how do we stop them?”
“Leave that to me.”

Owen obeyed without question, Das had proved his capability when he’d stalled the Heralds with some well aimed nuclear weapons. His decision had bought them a whole two days, and enough time for him to regain his memories. But he could see it in Owen’s eyes. He didn’t believe Das could pull this off.
It was understandable, after all, these Heralds were almost gods. But Das had changed. Ever since the Lord of the Winds had touched him, he had been different, although he only realised it now that he had his memories.
He had to buy enough time to let the people, a mere two million, get away.
He had to.

…

Crack!
The sound echoed throughout the Earth, the sound of the Heralds’ rage. Das panted, exhausted, but he was content.
The Heralds had been so focused on his taunts, on his long speech about how humanity could be redeemed, they had failed to notice the spaceship leaving the atmosphere.
And now, as they realised it, their rage was so immense that the Earth itself cracked.
But as his vision darkened and he slipped out of the world, Das was happy. For he’d given everyone a second chance. A chance to be better.

- - - - - - END - - - - - -

Climate change is real. And it is a threat.
Although it may not be as imminent, and while four supernatural beings who call themselves Heralds probably won’t rise up from the depths of the Earth to destroy us humans for our misuse of the Earth and her resources, there will be consequences for our relentless exploitation of what we are given.
One day, if our ways are not changed, humans will go extinct, whether it is from the razing of all the continents or by the hand of unbelievably powerful magical beings or from the seas flooding the land due to global warming, or simply from a lack of resources.
This has to change.
So once more, I implore you, and us all, to save the Earth, and use her resources wisely, without avarice. Or we are all doomed. For earth shall destroy, winds shall dispose, the fires shall purify and the waters shall soothe, and the world will be remade into a world without humans. And if this does happen, it will probably be a better world than the one we know now.

Weekly #3! (3032 words)

Part one- taking inspiration from music
(812 words total)

For the first story I used a lofi song called Ancient Paths (https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/youtube/4wlnE57yF68)
410 words

The path winding through the trees was paved with fallen cherry blossoms, a river of pink petals flowing into the dappled sunlight of the forest. Akari waded through them, her bare feet slipping through the flowers underfoot, her cupped hands outstretched to catch more as they drifted towards her on the breeze. This was where she always went to be alone. When it all got too much. No-one else came here anymore. Only the birds and the trees kept her company as she wandered deeper through the forest. And she liked it that way.
Something caught her attention, and she stopped, squinting through the haze of pink petals adorning the branches of the trees that lined the crumbling stone path. A speck of golden light was flickering and gleaming, just through the trees.
Casting a glance back the way she came, she hesitated for a moment, before taking a tentative step off the path. Towards the radiant light shining with mesmerising beauty. She felt like it was calling her, beckoning her to come. So she came.
The light danced on, leading Akari through the sea of fallen petals, taking her further, further into the trees. Soon she had forgotten what way she had come. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was this beautiful, shining light that was so tantalisingly close- and yet so out of reach.
In a dreamlike daze, Akari continued to follow, calm sweeping over her as the petals she had caught in her hands slipped between her fingers, joining the shimmering carpet beneath her feet. The light led her on, on, on, until they reached an old overgrown stone-paved path.
It obviously hadn’t been used for years, but it was strangely free of the pink cherry blossoms that coated everything else in a blanket of colour.
The path felt cold underneath Akari’s feet, jagged and sharp like shards of ice. But the light skipped onwards, and so did she.
Suddenly the light began to flicker faster, disappearing between the trees ahead. Akari began to run after it, the world becoming a blur of light and trees and petals and branches, her feet beating out an almost melodious rhythm on the cold stone path. On and on they ran, the lighting drawing Akari onwards, deeper and deeper into the forest.
The light slowed at a stone bridge spamming a babbling stream. A tall, imposing archway stood on the opposite side of the water, silhouetted against the setting sun.

(unfinished bahaha)

My second song is an instrumental song from an art project by @Cuhkaerion (Their art is so good, go follow them!) and I remember really liking the music when I first looked at that project like months ago- The song is Suffer With Me but edited a bit (https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/620106700/)
402 words

The cave was deserted. Puddles of water lined the rocky floor, stalactites frozen in place - hundreds of them - dripped slowly to the ground. Nothing had been disturbed here in centuries.
Until now.
A lone figure slipped through the darkness, beams from her torch bouncing off the dark walls. Her breath frosted the cold air, her footsteps strangely silent as she splashed through the frigid water.
She had been to many places in her short lifespan, but somehow she knew- this one was different. Different how, she didn’t know. But she intended to find out.
She flicked her long braid over her shoulder and walked faster, lifting the torch to illuminate the tunnel-like darkness ahead of her.
Suddenly she tripped, plunging knee-deep into a pool of bitingly cold water. She gasped, dropping her torch as she scrambled backwards.
There was a splash, and the light abruptly went out. The darkness was absolute, obscuring everything in a heavy shroud of black. The girl fumbled for her torch, but there was nothing but air and rock and cold, cold water. Her breathing grew fast and panicked.
She called out, but there was no answer, just the darkness closing in on her, muffling her shouts. The silence was thick and heavy.
Silence?
She stiffened. Called again.
There was nothing. Not a single sound.
She thought it was all a legend, but-
She had found it.
The Cave That Does Not Echo.
She slipped her backpack off her shoulders and blindly reached in, pulling out the first thing she could reach. Another torch. With a flick of a switch, murky light filled the cave again.
“Hello?” Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
She laughed, disbelieving. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
She had really found it.
There was only one thing to do now.
Go deeper.
The young explorer slung her backpack back over her shoulder and continued on, avoiding the riverlets and puddles scattered through the cave, ducking underneath stalactites and brushing past stalagmites. It felt like something was drawing her onwards. Perhaps it was her own curiosity. Or perhaps it wasn’t. Perhaps this cave had deeper, darker secrets than simply being not able to echo.
The girl shivered. From the cold, she told herself. She wasn’t scared of anything.
A water droplet fell from a stalactite onto the girl's hair. She brushed it off. Another followed, and another. It was almost like the cave was raining.
Her torch flickered, dimming slightly.

(also unfinished HA)

Part two- inspiration
(841 words total)

For my inspiration, I used a couple of story plot generators from this website- https://www.plot-generator.org.uk/ which gave me the opening line as well as part of the main character’s past/backstory.

People trust me with their lives.
They shouldn’t.
I’m the only one left. But I-
I don’t know if I can do this.
My breath is deafening in the tiny room I’m crammed into. I can feel it inside my helmet, a cloud of heat on my lips. I clench my fists tight.
I have to do this.
That’s what I keep telling myself.
“Commander?”
“Yes?” The helmet muffles the tremor in my voice.
“We’re ready. Just give us the signal.”
I nod, looking around the dark room. I can barely see the silhouettes of the rest of my Unit crouching around me. I suppose that’s for the best. It shows that these night-vision resistant suits are working.
My eyes sweep over my Unit again. Five Soldiers, each heavily trained for combat in the years the Rebellion spent in hiding.
But now it is time to hide no longer.
Now it is time to face the Enemy.

The Soldiers are getting restless. They’re waiting for me to call the signal. I just need to get the timing perfect. If one of them dies because of me-
I can’t afford to think this way. I know each and every one of my Unit is ready to fight for our City, our freedom. Each ready to die to protect their leader.
Then why am I hesitant?

I guess it’s because I know all these Soldier’s have a life, too. People who will miss them. People who will mourn them.
Me? I have no-one left.
Perhaps that's why they chose me for this role.
How disappointed they would be in me now.

My breathing is fast. Panicked. But I must stay calm. A single noise will alert the Enemy’s forces, and the Enemy does not show mercy. If I want to get these Soldiers home alive, unlike countless others, unlike my brothers, my friends, my Fellows-
Now.
I give the signal, scream the word into my helmet. Now! Now! Now! Now! The echoes reverberate, amplifying the noise tenfold. Sirens blare and gunshots bang and we’re running, the Unit ahead and me guarding the rear, our heads down, frantically dodging the blasts fired from above that bounce off the corridor walls in a frenzy of green light. Soldier Two gets hit, a shout escaping his lips before the Blast takes effect and he slumps to the ground, paralysed. Soldiers Three and Four grab him by the arms and keep running.
I see a flash coming my way and I duck, the red stream of light crashing into the wall behind me. Red? My heart begins pounding.
They know we’re here.
“They’ve found us!” I shout into my headpiece, dropping low to the ground as another Red Blast shoots past me.
Soldier Four’s voice fills my ears, distorted through my helmet. “But- I thought with Soldier Six and Seven back at Base hacking thier system- and the suits-”
“It doesn’t matter how!” Soldier Three yells, dragging Soldier Two faster down the hallway.
“Three’s right,” I say. “Don’t stop until you get to safety. This isn’t auto-security anymore, it's real people firing and they’re using Red Blasts. Once we’re out of the corridor we’ll be out of range, but we have to go fast before they deploy more forces on foot.”
“Could we go back to the supply room and try again?” Five asks, her voice thick with worry.
“It’s too late.” Four replies. “I’ll bet that they’ve blown it up already so we can’t get out.”
“So far the mission is still on,” I say. “But if any of you want to back down-”
“We’ve told you, Commander! We’re loyal!” Three insists. “Unit Nine-One-Twelve does not back down!”

We reach the end of the corridor, and collapse against the wall, gasping for air.
“Don’t stop moving!” Soldier Six screeches into our headpieces. “They’re coming! The room to the left, remember?”
We pick ourselves up and turn left, our heads down and Blasters readied. If we could just get to the Tech Room in time-
But we all know it’s heavily guarded, and the fortress will be on high alert now that they know they have intruders in their midst.
But this is our last chance to disable the Hexagons. If we can pull this off, they’ll be defenceless right when the Rebellion makes its final move.
I have to do this.
My mind flashes back to the Fellows I couldn’t save. My own Unit. All of them were killed. And the person I used to be died with them.
I was Soldier Fourteen once, long ago. But now I am Commander. And I can do nothing to help those in the past, but I can help those I have today. Unit 9112. They trust me. I can’t let them down.
I see the Red Blast coming too late. It flashes across the room, an arc of shimmering destruction. I throw myself in front of Soldier Five before she even knows what’s happening. And I fall to the ground, my vision a haze of red, red,
red.



Part three- themes
(1379 words total)

(I rewrote the beginning of and continued the story above - part two.)

The topic of this piece/story focuses on the typical dystopian character vs. society (Although you could say society vs. society - war - at a stretch); of course there’s a Rebellion and a government (the Enemy) and of course they’re fighting. But the theme goes a little deeper - it focuses on how trusting yourself is just as important as trusting others, and how you can find that faith in yourself.




We’re crouched in a tiny supply room, crammed between metal crates ordered in meticulous rows. My back is aching, sweat trickling through my night-vision resistant suit. I’m sweltering inside my heavy helmet, a headache I’m failing to ward off building up behind my eyes.
The lights are dim and flickering, and I have to squint to see anything in the murky darkness. But maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s better not having to see their faces. Not having to look someone in the eye right before you kill them.
I can’t think like this. I know they’re ready to die to protect our future.
But I can’t help thinking-
I’m not the right person for this. How can they trust me with their lives this way? I’ll only let them down. I can’t do this-
I slow my fast, panicked breathing. If the Enemy hears a sound, it’s all over. I remind myself, again, of the importance of this mission. And how important it is that I lead it successfully. How important it is that I don’t let the fear of casualties stop me; one life in exchange for winning the war is a choice my superiors would make in an instant.
Then why can’t I do it?
My gaze sweeps over the Soldier’s crouching around me. Five members of Unit 9112, all of them thoroughly trained for combat in the years the Rebellion spent in hiding. They’re restless, waiting for my signal. If only they could realise I don’t have the courage, the strength, the determination that they do. That if one more person died because of me-
It would break me.

“Soldier Fourteen?”
I can feel myself shaking, my heart pounding inside my chest. My hands slick with sweat, my Blaster slips out of my fingertips, landing with a thud on the ground. Like the thud the bodies make when they fall to earth, haloed in red light.
I feel sick.
“Soldier Fourteen?”
I look up. “Y-yes?” My voice trembles.
“When Commander yells the signal, we run. Got it?”
I nod, and my brother’s stern eyes soften. “It’s going to be alright, Fourteen.”
I can’t make myself smile back. “But, An-”
He interrupts me. “That is my name no longer. My name is Soldier Fifteen now.”
We do not have the privilege of names anymore. We are only Soldiers, and we are known by our Numbers.
Sometimes I wish it was different. That the war had never started, that we would never have had to hide underground in the Rebellion’s stronghold.
Sometimes I wish I could see the sky one last time.
But a jagged knife cuts into my thoughts, a voice screaming into my helmet, and suddenly I cannot breathe, a chill squeezing at my heart.
5
I remember how I used to stay up at night to peer at the stars out my window, back when the night sky wasn’t obscured with clouds of smoke from burning cities.
4
I remember how Mother had been so proud of us, fighting for our freedom.
3
But I am not strong like my brothers. They will make it out of this, I am sure. But I don’t know if I will.
2
If today is my last day alive-
NOW!
And suddenly we’re running, surrounded by shouts and screams and flashes of light that burn like fire behind my eyes, and I claw at my throat trying to breathe through the smoke but I don’t look where I’m going and I feel myself plummeting, plummeting towards a beam of red, red, red light-
And I fall into my brothers arms, moments before he flings me to the ground, to safety, and I wait for someone to catch him, too-
but no-one comes.

-

It had been six months since that day. I thought I couldn’t get more torn apart than I already was. I was wrong. Every day the grief rips another piece from my heart.
I enter the small, circular room, my head bowed.
My voice is quiet. “You asked for me?”
The woman seated behind the desk nods, curtly.
“The High Commander of the Southern Units thinks it is time for… an upgrade.”
“An upgrade?” I gulp. Am I going to be replaced? They can’t. This is all I have left, and they know it.
“You are aware of the Commander of Unit 9112’s death?” she asks.
I nod.
“You are the one to replace her.”
“I- I can’t! I don’t know how!”
The woman pursed her lips.
“The High Commander does not want to be disappointed.”

-

If only the High Commander could see me now, I think miserably as I stand at the back of the room, trying to disappear into the shadows. How disappointed he would be in me.
“If we target their Tech Room we could disable their Blasters and Trackers and gather our forces for the final move-”
“But how could we break into their stronghold? They have auto-security sensors that fire Paralyser Blasts randomly as soon as heat is detected in the hallways-”
“But I’m sure our Soldier’s could make it, they would be willing-”
“We have to think of some way they wouldn’t be able to detect us dropping off the forces straight into their stronghold, though-”
“They could hide in a supply room until they’re ready. They never go into those-”
“It’ll be heavily guarded-”
“-but worth it if we had a chance to disable the Hexagons.”
I was nothing but an unwanted presence in these strategy talks. To me the idea of breaking into the Enemy’s stronghold was impossible, but I didn’t speak up. No-one needed my opinions. All my opinions did was get people killed.
“Commander of 9112?”
I looked up, startled.
“We have chosen your Unit to attempt the mission.”
“Sure?” I was hesitant. They couldn’t mean the mission to disable the Hexagons. They would pick a-
“It would require going into combat-”
I was panicking. “I don’t know how-”
A harsh, cold voice spoke. The woman that first told me I would be a Commander.
“Then find out.”

-

My eyes narrow in the darkness. I listen intently, focused.
“Now.”
My scream into the headpiece echoes, reverberating through the supply room as my Unit launches into action, running out into the open as blasts of green light rain down around us. Soldier Two is hit and I hold in a scream as he hits the ground, repeating it’s just a paralyser it’s just a paralyser IT’SJUSTAPARALYSER- over and over in my head. Sirens are blaring, matching the rhythm of our feet slamming into the floor as we sprint through the hallway, bursts of light bouncing off the walls as we frantically try to dodge them.
I see a flash shooting towards me and I dive out of the way as the red stream of light sails on above my head, crashing into the wall behind me. Red? My heart stops. They know we’re here.
I scream something into the headpiece, dropping low to the ground as another Red Blast whistles past me. “Get down! They’re aiming to kill-” My words are amplified by the helmet, rising into a shriek.
Kill Kill Kill KILL-
“But I thought-” Soldier Five grabs Soldier Two and drags his prone form out of the way of another Blast.
“It doesn’t matter what you thought!” Soldier Three yells. “Just get out of here!”
It’s too late when I see the Red Blast shooting across the hallway, aimed straight for Soldier Five. I reach out. I feel myself shattering inside. She’ll die. She’ll die because of how I failed.
Again.
They put their trust in me. But they shouldn’t have. All I do is fail. After all they’ve been through, they’ll die right here, right now, because of all my mistakes.
I can’t let them die like this.
Maybe I have a chance to save them after all.

The moment seems to last a thousand years. The Red Blast flashes and sparks, a beautiful arc of fire and ruin. I throw myself in front of Soldier Five before she even knows what’s happening.
And I fall to the ground
my vision clouded
by sparks and flickers of red
red
red
like stars in the night sky
before it all turns to
darkness.

-

SCIENTISTS DISCOVER NEW SQUIRREL-FISH SPECIES!

Scientists studying a coral reef off the coast of Australia were bamboozled when a fish with a round head and a furry tail came swimming towards them. They abandoned the reef and took pictures of this fascinating creature instead. After careful examination, this creature had been given a name. Read on to find out more!
The team of scientists who discovered this unusual fish were, in fact, still training. When they finished their mission, they showed the pictures to their boss, who was also flabbergasted. He sent them off to a research centre who identified and named the species. The name decided was squirrel-fish, as it reflects the animal’s looks and behaviour.
The squirrel-fish has the round, hard head of a squirrel with its little ears poking up but the body of a smooth silverfish. Its tail is grey and furry, just like the Eastern grey squirrel, which originated in America. It measures approximately twenty centimetres from tail to head. The animal lives in reefs where it can use its sharp front teeth, that are just like a squirrel’s, to munch through the coral. It also eats small fish occasionally, although it is mainly a herbivore.
The question that was budding scientists the most is : How did this animal come to be? A squirrel and a fish would unlikely never meet - or so we thought! Almost at once, a genetic research centre from India owned up and said this was a creature that had been made using specific cloning techniques. Whilst the conductor of the animal’s test was a little embarrassed to say that the creature had escaped from the lab, the rest of the world was amazed by the creature and demanded for more knowledge on its creation. Due to the nature of secrecy, that knowledge has been denied, but around the world more people are now attempting to crossbreed more species than ever before.
However, the nature of these species is unknown. They could damage the ecosystem, for example, the squirrel-fish could eat lots of the coral, so the other fish cannot hide from predators. We also have no idea how these species will reproduce - and, indeed, if there is more than one of these creatures. If the squirrel-fish are unable to breed, they will die out. However, if that does happen, not all hope is lost. We might still be able to make new animals based on more similar animals, where they are both mammals, or both birds.
So - watch out! Perhaps soon we will be sorting the argument over cats and dogs and getting a new cat-dog we all love? Who knows, maybe there will be humans crossbred with some other animal? The future depends on these scientists.