“Come on, Anna!” Julie said, frustrated. “You have to stay still, he’s going to be here soon!”
“I know, I know,” 19 year old Marianna grumbled. “I didn’t even want to go on this date.” Still, she closed her eyes and allowed her friend to finish applying the eyeshadow.
“Anna, you’ve got to live it up!” Julie stopped brushing and stared at Marianna. “Just because Tom broke your heart-”
“Stop.” Marianna held up a hand. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m going on this date because you set it up for me and said that if I went on it, it would be my birthday present to you. I’m not going because I want to. I want to focus on my studies and, believe it or not, I’m happy without a boyfriend.” She finished her rant and closed her eyes again. She wasn’t worried that her forceful tone had hurt Julie, Julie had known her long enough that she was used to her temper. And Julie was just that kind of person who’s too bubbly and energetic to be hurt by someone’s tone.
“Fine.” Julie dropped the topic and continued to work on her makeup in silence. Marie knew she wouldn’t stay silent for long though. And sure enough, Julie started chattering away in her usual, bright tone again.
“You know, you might actually like this guy and want to go steady with him. His profile seemed interesting. I was tempted to ask him out myself, but I thought you two would be more compatible and I’m already going steady with Michael as you already know. Michael is the perfect guy for me.” Julie paused for breath.
“I don’t know if we’re compatible or not because you wouldn’t tell me anything about him except his name and age,” Marianna complained.
Julie ignored her comment and stepped back. “There you’re perfect. You look like an angel.” She surveyed her critically. “Though I think…” She snatched a bobby pin from Marianna’s dresser and stabbed it into her curls.
“Ouch!” Marianna flinched away. “You drove it right into my skull, Julie.”
“Oops, sorry.” Julie pulled it out and inserted it back in, more gently this time. “There. Look at how beautiful you look!” She swivelled Marianna’s chair towards her dresser mirror.
Marianna gaped at her reflection. Her light, hazel brown hair was up in her normal ponytail but was curled. Julie had kept her makeup simple with just a hint of pale pink eyeshadow that matched her summer dress perfectly.
“Wow, Julie! I may not want to go on this date, but I could have you do my hair and makeup every day!” She laughed. “Thank you for helping me get ready. I really appreciate it.”
Julie smiled. “No problem. I enjoyed it and in a way, you’re helping me. After all, I am majoring in cosmetology.”
Marianna opened her mouth to respond when she heard a knock on the door.
“Oh, that must be Keon!” Julie jumped up and ran out of Marianna’s room to open the door. Marianna heard Julie greet the person at the door warmly. It’s weird she’s being so friendly with a stranger. But then, that’s just Julie’s personality. Marianna got up and walked to her and Julie’s living room. She saw Julie standing in the doorway talking with her boyfriend, Michael.
“Michael!” Marianna greeted him fondly. The three of them had been best friends since elementary school and Michael was like a big brother to Marianna.
“Hey there, Anna,” Michael said in his deep voice. “I heard you had a blind date and thought I should come and make sure this guy’s good enough for you.” His eyes twinkled mischievously.
Marianna gave Michael a light punch in the arm. “You might scare him away.” They all laughed. Indeed, with his tall and wide 6’7 frame, he could be intimidating to anyone who didn’t know him well.
“He should be here any minute. Why don’t we sit down until he arrives?” Julie asked, gesturing to the couches.
“Sounds good.” Marianna took the armchair while Michael and Julie sat on the pale pink loveseat.
They sat in awkward silence for a bit, then Julie finally broke it. “So… how have you been, Michael?”
“Fine, I’ve been working hard on the farm, the usual.” He shrugged. “Dad’s close to retiring, but wants to make sure that I can handle the farm without him.” He winked at Julie. “Mom’s been telling me to get married, and soon.”
Marianna watched Julie’s cheeks turn pink and she looked down. Michael squeezed her arm and kissed her on the top of her head. Marianna felt a twinge of jealousy watching them. I long for a love like that. She thought, then caught herself. No. No, I don’t. I’m happy by myself. I don’t need a guy to make me happy. I can dedicate myself to learning to teach and graduate top of my class. I can live happily ever after with just myself and my future students. But even she had a hard time believing that.
She snapped back to reality and listened to Michael and Julie talk for a bit before realizing that Keon should have arrived already.
“Julie.” She broke into the conversation. “When did Keon say he would be here to pick me up?”
“5:30, why?” Julie glanced at the wall clock and gasped. “Anna! It’s almost 6! Where is he?”
“You think I know?” Marianna couldn’t keep the venom from her voice. “I don’t know anything about the guy except what you told me, I don’t even have his number!” She knew she was being unfair to Julie, but she had gotten dressed up for a date she didn’t want and now the guy didn’t even show up!
Julie looked down at the shaggy white rug. “I’m sorry, Anna.” She swallowed and it was clear she was fighting back tears.
Marianna frowned but softened her tone a bit. “I’m going to get changed into casual clothes, maybe we can still go out to dinner as a group?” She gave Julie a small half-smile.
“Alright.” Julie looked up and Marianna saw that her smile had returned.
Marianna headed down the dimly-lit hall to her bedroom. She had just opened the door when she heard Julie calling her. What does Julie want? She turned and headed back up the hall.
Julie turned the corner and Marianna almost ran straight into her. “Anna! Come on! He’s here!” She whisper screamed, tugging her towards the living room of their apartment.
“What? Who?”
“Keon!” Julie gave her a shove and Marianna saw a man talking with Michael.
Marianna stumbled, then caught herself and looked up. The guy wasn’t too handsome, but he wasn’t ugly either. She would say he was slightly above average. He looked to be about 6’4 and had dirty blond hair. His eyes were green and stubble covered the lower part of his face.
“Hello, are you Marianna?” He asked, turning towards her.
“Yes, that’s me. And you’re Keon, right?”
“Yep.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Keon looked down at the young woman standing before him. She’s beautiful. He surveyed her. Her light, hazel brown hair was perfectly curled and she had beautiful, deep blue eyes. Not that he cared much about outside appearances. He knew from experience that women could be beautiful on the outside, but vicious and ugly on the inside. He didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.
“Shall we go?” He asked Marianna.
She looked like she debated with herself before finally answering. “Sure.”
He held the door open and let her go out ahead of him.
“Have a fun time!” He heard her friend call from the doorway.
They walked down 3 flights of stairs before exiting the apartment. They reached his truck and he opened the door for her. She got in and he walked around to get in the driver’s seat.
“So, I thought we would go to Simmer Down. My friend owns it and he makes great food.”
“Sure, that sounds fine.”
“Alright.” He turned on the radio and pulled out of the parking spot. This date seemed like it would go just fine.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Marianna sat tense in the passenger seat. She noticed that Keon hadn’t apologized for being 30 minutes late and didn’t try to break the awkward silence now. She frowned. She couldn’t imagine why she had ever accepted this date. No matter how much she owed Julie, she shouldn’t have gone. It hadn’t gotten off to a great start and it could only get worse. She sighed and stared out the window at the passing scenery. She was already counting down the minutes until this date was over.

daily. march 24
202 words

“The dog got out again.”
“It’s getting dark, we need to stop.”
“How can we search in the rain?”
“Time to sleep.”
“Come down for breakfast!”
“We need to find Sandy.”
“The park’s empty.”
“No sign on the roads.”
“We’re leaving, we only have a couple hours to pack.”
“Let me get out of the car! I didn’t search there yet.”
“We need to get gas.”
“How much longer?”
“The hotel closed…”
“Why are we stopping?”
“Can’t I use the blanket?”
“She’s lost without her. We should go back.”
“Come on! If we don’t get here, it’s nowhere.”
“Mom, why are we sleeping in the woods?”
“Here, I snagged some food.”
“Why is Dad gone for the whole day?”
“Did you get the cardboard and a marker?”
“My back hurts from the rocks on the floor. I can’t sleep.”
“What’s this?”
“We need to do a better job of this. She’s getting closer.”
“Why can’t you stay with me, Dad?”
“No luck today.”
“I’m hungry, are there any chips?”
“Try again tomorrow.”
“We can’t keep doing this.”
“Mom, I want food. Not stale crackers.”
“The Deli’s never watched.”
“I snuck in through the window.”
“I thought you said there weren’t any snacks?”

‘in a twisted nightmare.’
writing competition entry
833 words

I’ve always felt like someone was controlling my life, but it wasn’t me. It’s like having a toy, but when you instruct it to do one thing, it doesn’t listen. It’s like you’re missing a sensor, a big sign that says “hey, I’m in charge!” or an array of buttons labeling what each one does. Imagine that a mini version of yourself has the power to decide your actions based on your thoughts, but the larger version of yourself is taking over, and that panel of buttons suddenly stops working.
That’s how my life went, in simple terms. Someone was always there to monitor me and change my mind, no matter what I thought was right. That was my mother, who basically had every second of my unimportant life planned, written, and told. I was constantly steered away from the things I enjoyed and was forced to sit, study, be good, and don’t question anything. Not ever, not at all. It would cause my parents to lose control of themselves, in a way. Asking why we had something for dinner, or why it was raining though no one said it would. It was like they were a ticking time bomb, ready to explode whenever the curious part of their child started to come out.
It became easier just to not talk at all. From the age six on, I had learned that wondering about our world only led to anger and panic from my mother and father. I knew that I needed to behave, because you learn fairly quickly that you should keep your mouth shut if you don’t want your parents to become psychos.
I never figured out if they had some mental disorder or were simply paranoid, or maybe blackmailed or threatened. All I knew was that it was scary. I was so young, but I couldn’t feel relaxed when I was supposed to comfort my guardians so they didn’t boil over. Thus, I couldn’t talk about my problems, about my wonders, about school or the ways of teaching. I couldn’t question how the government was run or how my bacon was cooked.
So this lead to me being closed in; mysterious. I wasn’t even their daughter anymore; at least, there weren’t any characteristics that proved it. I was just a shy girl, afraid of what monsters my father and especially my mother would turn into. It was a literal nightmare.
Except it wasn’t real.
Everything I knew was a plain lie, covered up by the smooth demands of children to not ask, to not wonder.
And what good did that do for me? For my friends that I used to have?
My family was a nervous wreck. I was always torn in two, stressed and having to remind my father to pay the bills, to sweep the floor and to prepare dinner constantly. Several days I went to bed hungry, too scared of the outcome. Too scared of the cloud of rage that would follow them if I asked for something to eat.
So I began to take over the job they had dismissed.
I had no choice—I couldn’t let them starve, and I couldn’t sit around, waiting for them to wake up from their daze. And yet I still could not make my own decisions. It was like my mother would suddenly jolt awake, eyes and mouth wide from terror as she screeched at me whenever I went near the door. I would have to remind her I was going to school, but it would take minutes to calm her down and reassure nothing was out of the ordinary.
I was still trapped, hopeless, with two maniacs as caretakers that stared at the wall for hours on end, drooling and unblinking.
It only seemed to get worse. It didn’t help that they would be startled awake more easily, asking questions of their own that clearly weren’t forbidden for them. Why was it only me that couldn’t wonder, when they asked so many of me? Did they not realize how they had failed to raise me in this miserable life?
I was only twelve, but I was on the verge of tears and insanity at every turn—by the end of the day, or when I dreaded the start of another one. I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t put this in my past. I was stuck in this loop of waking up, making breakfast, not being able to fix my parents. All this time, and I hadn’t mentioned a thing to anyone else. I kept it inside, and there was definitely something holding me back when I tried. My voice would catch, and I’d start coughing, or I would suddenly forget what I wanted to say, remembering it just as I turned away.
There were no openings to figure out more.
No way out.
No one to look to for help.
The world was a dull mass of unanswered queries mounting up that no one ever acknowledged.
That no one ever noticed.

thank you so much for reading! this piece of writing was also used in the 2nd weekly, but edited slightly. I might have written something entirely different, but this will have to do since I have roughly 35 minutes left to turn this in. :)
a special thanks to @seasiide (jade) for helping me out a bit & critiquing my word choices and sentence structure!

a bit of context for this one, it’s inspired by The Maze Runner by James Dashner, a dystopian novel about a group of people that live in the Glade, an almost simulated world that was set up as a test facility to figure out the extraordinariness of the people they put into it—teenage boys. but aside from that intriguing plot, this story was sort of based on a simulated world, and the character hints at finally understanding that her world was never real at all. this excerpt is of her retelling a story, and of the struggles she went through with parents that probably aren’t even hers.
let’s pretend I didn’t just come up with this now, but enough of me dragging this out! less than 20 minutes to get this in… ;)

“Hey, Blue,” they say.
I look up from my spot on the floor to see Kane standing in the sunlight. They’re leaning confidently against the hangar door as if this were a relaxing vacation instead of a bloody war. I like the way Kane calls me by my callsign, Blue, instead of Ramira, my real name.
“Hey, Kane,” I respond. I slide out from under the Y-Wing and push my goggles up onto my forehead. “What are you doing in my hangar?”
“We both know you’re the best mechanic the Rebellion has.”
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” I say, “what do you want?”
I’m lucky that my dark skin doesn’t show blushing. I’m crushing on Kane hard and don’t want it to seem more obvious than it already is.
Kane cuts to the chase. “Can you make my X-Wing faster?”
I can, but it’s illegal.
Of course, the entire Rebellion is illegal, and the Empire’s laws are bad laws; and if laws are bad, they deserve to be broken. This life philosophy has gotten me to where I am today, and I’m still alive. So, I technically can make Kane’s X-Wing faster.
“That depends,” I say. It really doesn’t, but I’m hoping to draw out our conversation a little longer.
“On what?”
“On if you have any spare sparkers with you. I need a few to fix up this old girl.” I pat the side of my Y-Wing, then wince as a panel falls off the engine. I guess I should’ve been more gentle.
“There’s one on my toolcart,” Kane proposes, “and it’s yours… if you soup up Calendula first.”
Calendula is what they call their X-Wing. It’s a cool name. But it’s kind of a bad idea to get attached to an X-Wing if you crash it at least once a week, like Kane does. They’re the textbook definition of a hotshot - insanely good at piloting, but reckless and risky. I love it.
“Fine,” I say, and follow him out the entry.
_______

Kane’s X-Wing and the surrounding area is in a state of perpetual chaos. To be fair, this whole rebellion is chaos; however, I do not appreciate stumbling over the pile of bolts Kane left on the floor.
“So what exactly is it that you want?”
“I was wondering if you could make my engines a little more powerful. I could do this myself in theory, but I don’t want to lose any maneuverability.”
I think for a minute, visualizing the inner workings of Calendula in my head. I fly through tangles of wires, close-to-overloaded weapons systems, and thick layers of carbon scoring until I formulate a plan.
“Pass me that welder and I’ll get to work.”
_______

Time passes funny when I’m in my zone. I’m not sure if it’s been hours or seconds when Hera walks in. Hera Syndulla is the leader of Phoenix Squadron, the group Kane flies in. Hera is a living legend, and I don’t know whether or not she approves of me being Blue Leader. I’m confident in my piloting skills, but if Hera wasn’t, I don’t think I’d ever go in my cockpit again.
“What’s going on in here?” she asks.
Kane grins. “Blue is making my X-Wing faster!” Their enthusiasm is infectious. Just hearing them so excited is making a smile spread across my grease-streaked face.
Hera doesn’t seem to share the sentiment. “And what important life-support system is Ramira bypassing to make this happen?”
Kane seems scared by this question. I, however, am not. “None, actually,” I say, not passing up the chance to flex my mechanical prowess. “None that weren’t already bypassed.”
I can’t tell if Hera is amused or annoyed. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she says, and walks out. I’m not worried. I know what I’m doing. I think.
_______

“Are you almost done?” Kane shifts impatiently on their feet like a young child waiting for a new toy.
“Patience,” I say. “We’ll get there.”
I tighten one last screw and slide the underbelly panel back into place. Poking my arm into the engine compartment, I do a bit of contortion until I find the conduit I’m looking for. I pull it out of the snarl of mismatched wires and hold it up to the sunlight.
“This is it,” I say.
“What is what?” Kane asks. For someone who loves Calendula as much as they do, they don’t seem to spend much time with maintenance and upkeep. Probably because they know I’ll just fix it as I go out of habit.
“This,” I say with a flourish, “is the final part in the ‘Make-Kane-Go-Insanely-Fast’ puzzle. We just need one more thing-” I stop talking as I dig around in my utility belt. Finding what I’m looking for, I triumphantly pull out a tiny vial with an even tinier drop of shiny blue liquid inside.
Kane’s eyes widen. “Is that…”
“Coaxium. The purest refined coaxium that the Rebellion has to offer. And possibly the last they’ll have to offer in a long time.” I snagged the coaxium off of one of our anonymous suppliers the last time they came in with a shipment. Most of the coaxium went to the larger transport ships, and this - a little more than a microgram - is all I have.
Kane is stunned. “You’re using that for me?”
I smile. “Only the best for Calendula.” I take a tiny pipette, and with the steadiest of hands, squeeze the droplet into the conduit. It lights up blue. I stick the conduit back into its nest of wires and close up the panel. Wiping my oily hands on my pants, I turn to Kane.
“You should be good to go. Just don’t push it too fast at first.”
I hear a message over the intercom. “Blue, Gold, and Phoenix squadrons please come to the briefing room, please.”
I whirl around to Kane. “Or… maybe not.”
Kane grins even more maniacally. “Oh, this’ll be fun,” he says.
I’m a little scared for what’s going to happen next.
_______

In the briefing room, Hera - or, I should call her General Syndulla now that we’re in a meeting - explains the plan.
“There’s an Imperial plant in the mid-rim/outer-rim border planets, and our intel tells us that it’s manufacturing weapons of mass destruction. If it sends out shipments to the local forces, we could be annihilated like -” she snaps her fingers to prove the point - “that. And we do not want that to happen.”
The whole room nods.
“But,” the General says, “our intel has also informed us that the weapons plant is updating their security systems today. This means that, for a short window of time, their security will be down. I plan to use that window to sneak in and blow the plant to pieces.”
The idea of explosions has Kane looking like their birthday came early. I should probably be up front, seeing as I am Blue leader, but I prefer it in the back of the room. I smile as well. I’m not as excitable as Kane, that’s for sure, but I do like the idea of blowing things up.
Hera claps her hands to cut out the chatter. She continues, “using some volatile concoctions whipped up by the amazing Ms. Wren, Blue Squadron will be the bombardiers. Gold Squadron will guard the perimeter, and Phoenix Squadron will keep the TIEs away from the Y-Wings. I will lead Phoenix and Gold, and Ramira here will lead Blue.”
She gestures toward me, and I glow with barely-concealed pride. This is the first time that the General has positively mentioned me in public.
“We leave in twenty. Don’t mess up.”
_______

We exit hyperspace and arrive at a small, mostly-uninhabited planet. From what I can see, it is mostly rocks and brush and doesn’t have much water. A perfect place for a formerly-secret weapons plant. Hera counts down the seconds until the reboot starts, and we go in for the kill.
“Good luck out there, Blue,” Kane says to me through the intercom.
“Same to you, Kane,” I reply. “Have fun testing out your new and improved ride.”
_______

“Bombs away!” I shout victoriously as I drop yet another payload down on the manufacturing complex. All through the air around me, I can hear my squadron doing the same.
“Woo-hoo!” Kane shouts as they streak through the sky at impossibly high speeds. They’re certainly enjoying themself.
And I am, too.
I exhale in triumph. It looks like we’ve won.
But just as I think that to myself, I hear the scream of death flying over me. The TIEs have arrived.
“Gold Squadron, Phoenix Squadron,” I warn, “we have company.”
_______

The fight heats up as my group continues to wreak havoc. The TIEs try to stop us, but our wingmen are just too fast. The Imps that aren’t destroyed by Kane and their chaotic, joyous flight are snagged by Hera and the others.
But then I hear a heart-rending crash through the intercom.
“I’m hit!” someone screams.
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach. “Kane!”
It’s true. I look out my viewport and see Kane’s newly souped-up X-Wing spiraling downward. Some TIE’s lucky shot has sliced Calendula’s left wing clear off.
“Blue 2, take over for a minute,” I say, my breath quick and shallow.
I fly over to the rocky hill where Kane has crashed and land my Y-Wing. I’m moving too quickly to have caution while landing, and I can hear some of the landing supports bending under me. Normally, I would care, but the panic I feel has my mind muddled.
“Kane! Kane!” I shout hoarsely.
I stumble over to where their ship has crashed and pop open the viewport.
It’s as I had feared: Kane is slumping over, lifeless in the cockpit that gave them so much joy.
My shouts turn to whispers. “No…”

Tears are running down my face now, and I don’t even bother trying to stop them. Kane is gone. They’re gone.
Somehow, I was under the impression that Kane would live forever. They were so full of life! Nothing scared them, ever. But I was so wrong…
I lean my head against their chest. I had always dreamed that someday, after the war, I would tell them that I loved them. I thought we’d have all the time in the galaxy. And now they’re gone. My quiet hiccups are now full-on sobs. Why didn’t I tell them? Why didn’t I tell them?
A quiet thrumming pulls me from my grief. If I weren’t so in tune with Calendula, I wouldn’t have noticed it. I pull open the engine panel to see the coaxium-filled conduit steadily shining.
I look over the hill and see a data terminal, somehow remaining after all the destruction.
Slowly but surely, an idea begins to form.

I run over to the terminal and press a few buttons. Sure enough, it still works. I plug a jump drive into its input jack and wait for the contacts to light up.
Once the drive is connected, I quickly bypass the security. Fingers flying over the touchpad, I download every single data file the plant has. Blueprints, programs, worker counts; it all goes on the drive. I tap my foot impatiently as I wait for it all to load.
After what seems like forever, the green diode lights up. Done. I eject the jump drive, and while I’m still there, type in one last command.

I run back to my Y-Wing. I drag Kane into the cockpit with me, hoping to give them a proper burial when we get back to the base. I take off as fast as I possibly can and turn around in the air just in time to see the self-destruct activate.
As the remainder of the plant goes up in flames, a look of grim resolve takes the place of the anger and grief.

For Kane.

Part One:

Character 1
age range 40-60
Ambivert




Character 2
age range 1-10
Extrovert




Background
Dark Red
Forest Green