Weekly #2 7/16/2022

Word count: 1072 words

Words written by me: 827 words

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Part 1, Fake Crime:

Fire Sets Ablaze the SWC Headquarters, Three Injured and Arson Likely the Cause

Late last night, a fire burned down most of the SWC headquarters. 3 were injured in these flames, all of which are leaders at SWC. It is suspected that arson is the cause. The fire likely started on the east side and quickly spread to the west. There are There also seem to be markings of explosions within the ruins. Investigators are on the case and are asking any witnesses to proclaim what they saw last night. Suspects are also being held in custody. SWC Host, Birdi, says that she will make sure to get the building repaired as soon as possible.
Our reporter, Lily, was on the scene, as soon as they could. “The building was mostly burnt down already when I got there,” she claims, “Seeing the bright sirens blare around the once beautiful building was worrying.” A witness, though rightfully startled, was more than happy to share what they saw. “I was just leaving after leaving my daily with the leaders for the points to be added when an explosion went off! I was fine, other than possibly my ears –they hurt–, I was a block away. I frantically went to call the police.” Lincoln informed. We later met with Jasmine, who was devastated by what had happened. Jasmine revealed, “From the flames, I saw two feminine silhouettes. It seemed like they were wearing capes that had flames on them. There were hoods up, but I think I saw longer hair on one. It might have been the smoke that got to me, but that's what I recall.” Local investigator, JoJo, is hot on the trail. The only place in town where capes are made and sold like those is at 73rd Dream. JoJo went to interview local designer, Ayid, earlier this morning. “Actually, the capes you described were bought yesterday. Many of them were bought, actually. Fire-themed items aren't the rarest and I'm sure I've sold many more over the past month.” Ayid responded, “I believe there was an event going on?” It appeared that there was a gathering discussing the matters of hot and cold items, that most of the youth of the town were involved in.
Celes, Sofi, Peachii, and Alba were brought in for investigation. “I want to know why I'm being pinned for this crime!” Celes demanded, “I had to come back early from my mission for this; what a waste of time.” After further investigation, Investigator JoJo announced that Celes was innocent. Sofi was half asleep when she was brought in. “Can I just go back to bed?” she asked. Security cameras showed that Sofi has not gone in or out of her room for the past two days. “I've been up working on my writing… or something like that-” Sofi managed to say before she dozed off again. Peachi was seen playing with fire earlier in the week, which made her a key suspect. “It's only a little hobby. Not anything to worry about,” they defended. Peachi is still being held for questioning. The arsonist of this town, Alba, was an obvious suspect. “It couldn't have been me,” Alba giggled, playfully, “At that time, I was out with Sini. Playing some games, you know.” Sini confirmed that they were together that night. Alba has not yet been released from custody.
Reporter Heather had the opportunity to ask Birdi and Robin, the hosts of SWC, some questions about this tragic event.
Heather: How do you two feel about SWC headquarters being burned down? It must be a shock.
Birdi: Oh dear… Alba did it again? Or was it a stray camper hoping to follow in her footsteps… either way, it's a lot of work to get it all back up and working again, and I feel kind of salty. We've done it before, though, so we should be able to do it again.
Robin: Adding onto that, I don’t appreciate the loss of my cookies, but I’m quite proud that our very own headquarters were subject to arson!
Heather: Hm… okay. Onto the next question, what is your next plan of action to solve this problem?
Robin: To be honest, I'm not sure, because I can't begin to understand how this could have happened. I think that removing the box of free matches outside the building could be a good first step.
Birdi: Hire people to clean up the damage and rebuild the main cabin and let them take care of it. SWC's pockets are overflowing with money anyway. Definitely.
Heather: The free matches might just be a slight problem. And finally, how long do you think it's going to take for the officials to figure out the perpetrators and what will you do with them?
Robin: I hope the officials find the perpetrators soon! I would really like to give them our ‘Arson of the Year’ award. We also sort of need them to pay for the damage, so that'd be good too—
Birdi: Not too long, hopefully, but I wouldn't know. I'm not entirely sure of how long it takes to identify an arson culprit, but maybe the security cameras caught them? Maybe they were burned too though. I have no clue. Oh, and as for what I'll do with them, we'll probably have to rehabilitate them and convince them of the faults in Alba's teachings (which will be quite tiring, but oh well).
Heather: Thank you for coming to this interview with me.
Birdi: Thank you for having us.
Robin: Likewise.
Moss, Dawn, and Rae were found victims, and thankfully the only victims, of this crime. They were said to be doing some late-night point adding when the incident occurred. “I can’t believe this happened!” Moss exclaimed, “I’m not that hurt, not like Rae, but I don’t know why anyone would do this!” Dawn had a similar reaction to Moss. “Who would want to commit arson?” she asked, “On the SWC headquarters, I mean. There are plenty of reasons why SWC-ers would want to commit arson.” Rae was injured the most, with a broken leg and a mild burn. “We really need to stop giving away free packs of matches,” she advised.
The case of who exactly did this crime isn’t solved yet. It seems to be more complicated than officials first thought after getting a call, which claimed the opposite of what some of our information at the moment. JoJo and other investigators are still looking into this matter.

(to be continued in my writing comp entry…)

Weekly #3 7/16/2022

Word count: 214 words

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Part 4, Comic:

Title- Life of an SWC-er
Subtitle- The Morning of Cabin Wars

Panel 1: “Cabin Wars- At 12 AM UTC”
CAMPER enthusiastically looks at their computer screen.
CAMPER: Who should I attack first?

Panel 2: “Time is Write!- At 12:13 AM UTC”
CAMPER quickly typing away at their computer.
CAMPER, excitedly: Someone finally decided to war us!

Panel 3: “Bedtime- At 3 AM UTC”
CAMPER closes their computer, yawning.

Panel 4: “Oh no…- At 3:12 AM UTC”
CAMPER lies in bed, their eyes wide open.
CAMPER's thoughts: What should I do? DO I sleep? DO I not sleep? Is my cabin okay? Did anyone betray us? Did we lose that last war? Who's active? Is anyone active at all? I'm confused!

Panel 5: “Sound asleep- At 4 AM UTC”
CAMPER is sleeping on their computer. The room is dark and their computer screen is on.

Panel 6: “Are you okay?- At 10:54 AM UTC”
CAMPER's MOM looks at them worriedly.
MOM: Are you okay?
Drowsy CAMPER: Yeah, I'll be in my room…

Panel 7: “Anxiety- At 11 AM UTC”
CAMPER frantically checks their computer.
CAMPER: I hope I didn't miss much. Did we lose any wars yet? Who decided to betray us? Are there a lot of people active? How could I sleep 7 hours???

A Siren’s Song for the Sea

written and edited by goose (graceobrien13)

1411 words in total (excluding title)

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A siren sings to the sea.

The sea is only so eager to listen to gentility.

But, when a siren nears the rocks that border a coast, tossed around by the waves, the simplest of songs becomes dangerous.

'Danger is satisfying,' a certain siren ponders as he glides up to a rock, slinging his arm up and over the moist surface. Danger is a thrill stampeding through his body. It is pure adrenaline.

Perhaps that is because he is not the one who is in danger.

He observes as a person walks along the beach, kicking rocks out of the way. She is traditionally attired, with a checkered black-and-white shirt and a black hat positioned jauntily on her head. The skull on the hat wards him off no more than the appearance of a land-borne creature does.

The captain ambles down to the swash, her boots leaving thick imprints in the sand. Glancing up to lock eyes with the siren, she seems unprepared, though the faintest echo of a smile twitches at the corner of her mouth. Eventually, she cups her hands around her mouth and hollers: “Stop singing, your song isn’t pretty.”

“I’m glad that an esteemed critic, such as yourself, has taken it upon herself to tell me the ins and outs of music.” He observes casually as the captain wades towards him. She spreads out her palms so as to prevent herself from toppling into the sea: being dignified is everything when confronting a siren.

She doesn’t flinch at his words. “It’s a pleasure. Now, my crew can focus and stop throwing glances over the side of the boat, where they can’t hear you shriek.”

“A pirate,” he notes, offering her a hand. She declines it, though not without a sparkle in her eye.

“A good one, mind you. Not the type to fall for a siren’s song.”

Just as he is about to reply, she retracts, shaking her head and pointing some way down the beach.
“My crew needs me,” she tells the siren, while sliding her shoes on and brushing away at some of her golden mane. “Probably so they realize that the ringing in their ears has stopped.”

“You’re so pleasant, an absolute wonder to speak to,” he calls after her, but she doesn’t even turn around. He didn’t expect her to.

Now, he is a siren singing to the waves, and the waves wail their disappointment.

──────────────────

A ship has set sail on a gold-painted sea, blurred by the gentle strokes of the departing sun. The crew exchange jovial greetings. Two of the experienced pirates bustle around the helm, tending to the wheel and certifying that the course is a beeline for land. Multiple other crew members gather around the anchor while conducting stories about monsters from the ocean and their haunts. Strutting around, their captain is watching and assisting them all, and that captain hesitates at the starboard side of the ship. Of course, there is a lilting melody being orchestrated down below.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“But you do like this one more, I can see it on your face.”

It is hard to look at his face. From afar, it looks cherubic and innocent, with dark eternally-wet hair falling into his eyes and deep irises that follow you. It is a face to be displayed as a bust in a museum, a side-attraction which would gather plenty of stolen glances. She doesn’t look directly at him as she knows that a siren has multiple ways to allure and beguile a passing ship’s crew, and looks are one of them.

He opens his mouth and begins warbling again, drumming his fingers against the hull of a boat.

The singing makes her crew cease in their work. She banishes all of them down to the cabins, her heart fluttering in her chest with an irregular beat. To prevent herself from hearing, listening, following, she articulates from the deck.

“It’s not a musical masterpiece, and it is definitely not a lyrical one.”
After a moment, the eventual answer floats back, “Your instincts think otherwise.”

Her hands are splayed along the banister as she inhales. Arrogance is not a trait she is familiar with.

“My instincts would like to punch you in your face.”
“What can you do that compares in any way to my talent?”

She does not insult his supposed talent this time. She pauses, and every second is like a slap to her face.

“I can control my crew.” the captain mumbles, but the words are thrown down to the siren and he is dignified enough not to snort.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I can too.” he answers dryly, before waving a hand at her and slinking into the waves.

Prey, prey, prey; the sea chants with every stroke that takes him further out to sea.

She doesn’t retaliate. She sinks down onto the ground and wonders why a siren had to be the one to point that out.

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The sea comes before anything else. That is the one truth that is true to both the captain and the siren. It is the bittersweet truth.

Sirens, myths to those who don’t seek them out actively, belong to the sea. They are willing prisoners.

Captains, strong forces in a world of revolving good and evil, choose the sea over land every minute of life. They are the chosen dwellers of the seven seas.

When a pirate captain is trudging along the shore, kicking rocks into the ocean, there is no cause to worry. She doesn’t want to harm.

When a siren is seen gliding seamlessly through the foam of the waves, crooning a song dedicated to his home, there is cause to worry. He is looking for his prey.

The captain drapes herself near the water, her toes curled to stop the waves from dragging them into the depths. Her crewmates are far away, faint silhouettes in the unity of the universe. If only she could hear their compliments and cheers. If only she could see that behind the mask of a crewmate, they are her friends. If only she had known that ahead of time.

The siren has reached the shore. He watches her before he runs his palm through the sand, shells collecting and digging into his damp skin.

“What do your instincts think now?” he asks tenderly.

“They confuse me.” She meets his gaze, working her fingers through her waterfall of cascading hair.

“It won’t last long.” Forever is not such a long time, when life changes in an instant.

The captain doesn’t think she can last another change.

“I’m leaving you and your instincts.” the siren tells her, and she shrugs.

“Very well.”

“No reaction?”

“Do you deserve one?”

He tips his head, then shakes it reluctantly. “I suppose I don’t. My song got you into this internal mess to begin with.”
“It’s external, too.” Her laugh is an echo of its former glory. “Confliction is not my favorite part of life, in all honesty.”

“So, let me help.”

In the distance, surging water breaks over the horizon.

A captain sighs at the shore as a siren extends his hand to her for the second time. She accepts it, with a curtsey, as he pulls her into the water, spinning her in meandering circles.

Skipping through the ocean, squealing at the bite of ice on her thighs, the foam of ripples encircling her and tugging her underneath the water, the captain doesn’t feel as if she has to show initiative. She is just a helpless soul guided along by the glory of the ocean. As she is ducked for what seems like the thirtieth time, she resurfaces to hear the crooning of a sea shanty, and then the siren takes hold of her hand and swims out to sea.

Helpless. A captain is helpless against a siren’s pull.

Or, in particular, this captain is helpless and this siren is strong.

Exhausted. She is exhausted when they reach the rocks, an iron fist clamped around her wrist, pulling her up onto bare gray. The woman curls into herself, massaging her numb legs. She does not know what else to do.

The siren sings a couple of notes, then leans onto the rocks, pressing his individual fingers into the crevices. “I’m sorry,” he tells her, but he isn’t, not in the grand scheme of things.

As the siren swims away, the captain thinks she hears the waves whisper;

prey,

prey,

prey.

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I loved writing this piece. I really did. the characters broke me inside, though, because in my mind they were the same characters as the ones I based them off of and they were quite stubborn pfft. anyway! thank you Bakie, Elfie, Alex and Summer for critiquing, your input was so useful <3 also, this is the first session I've asked for critique because I was incredibly insecure the other three sessions, so that's cool I have my own character growth now!

Main Informational Article - Fake Politician
825 words

Deceggtion or eggquality?
Raw Egg’s journey to power

It’s a tranquil afternoon in Port Goog. You’ll find most of its citizens taking a walk around Yolkstone Park or frying on Chalaza Beach, enjoying the brilliant sunbeams from far above.

Not so Raw Egg.

Over the past few months, Raw Egg’s campaign for Presidegg (read: Dictator) of The Shell has taken off. Frenzied supporteggs scramble to find a spot in Raw Egg’s rallies; posters of the candidate are plastered all across Egg City, our country’s famous capital. In the midst of this frenzy, some might ask themselves - what’s the big deal? What’s so special about Raw Egg? Worry not: We at Shell News Network are here to find out.

“It’s just wonderful”, posits Aunt Eggma, who tends to the Feather Garden in Yolkstone Park. “Raw Egg’s shell is so…shiny, and so sophisticated, and….oh look, my thoughts are getting all scrambled!!”

Similar sentiments to that of Aunt Eggma echo across the city. Swooning fried eggs, impressed poached eggs, even some of the hard-boiled ones seem to have softened up - Raw Egg appears to be a hero, a figurehead for us all to admire. Unless?

“Special? There’s nothing special there,” says old lifegguard Eggie. “It’s preposterous, having Raw Egg’s shell all over for anyone to look at. Young eggs these days have no common decency! You know, back in ye olden days, only properly hard boiled eggs like myself were allowed to run. And it was right that way! I thought our country was collapsing when our first soft boiled egg was elected…but that was nothing against Raw Egg!”

While Eggie’s eggist stance is no doubt outdated, his concerns strike a chord with much of the city’s hard-boiled population. Intrigued, we turn to the egg itself: Raw Egg.
We find Raw Egg amongst a geggle of baby eggs, handing out modelling raw eggs to all of them. “I’m teaching them Eggalitarianism,” Raw Egg explains benevolently. “It’s my campaign motto! Eggalitarianism, eggquality, eggquity. The cornerstone of any egg’s joy in life. Be you poached, fried, soft-boiled, or hard-boiled - we all started out as raw eggs.”

Raw Egg’s speech is compelling, we must admit. All of it is even more astounding in eggson, Raw Egg’s shiny shell looming above us as though designed to impress - it’s the shell of a true leader. But what, then, of old Eggie’s tirade?

“I prefer to see things sunny side up in that regard,” Raw Egg opines nonchalantly. “I will help everyone, the underprivilegged and the overprivilegged. They will all become unprivilegged! Even the hardcore eggists will come to see that eggalitarianism is only the way we can achieve true happineggs.” A snicker. “They may pegg me for an amateur, but I am no such egg. You know what sets me apart from the other Presideggs?”

Raw Egg pauses (for impact). “I’m fair. Eggoism is a concept entirely unknown to me. See these little baby eggs? They’re learning right now that the eggquitable distribution of property is the only way. As one Frieggerick Eggels said,” - a charming grin seems to spread across Raw Egg’s shiny shell - “freedom is the recognition of necessity. And it is absolutely necessary that I become the dictat- I mean, Presidegg - of this fabulous nation.”

Upon being asked how Raw Egg aims to claim the Presideggcy, Raw Egg shrugs. “Have you seen the eggs? I have enough support to become Presidegg five times over. And if not…well…the means justify the eggs. No wait. The other way around. Anyway, that. I will definitely, totally, I mean I would never commit ileggal voter fraud. Those who vote against me…they might simply disinteggrate. Into thin air. Woosh. Never eggxisted.”

Our team laughs at this obvious quip. On to more serious matters - what of the national flag?
Raw Egg chuckles. “Outdated…at best. My new design is here - come, come,” Raw Egg gestures, leading us into Raw Egg’s office. A huge, majestic piece of cloth hangs above Raw Egg’s desk: crimson red, with the famous motto written in a shining gold across it. The corners are crested with egg-like shapes, and a faint outline of a map of The Shell can be seen from the other side. It’s…beautiful.

Our team is left stunned by Raw Egg’s plans. Perhaps the young city eggs are right - Raw Egg is exactly what this country needs. A shiny shell but a raw interior. Eggalitarianism, eggquality, eggquity: what a motto! We even hear some of the youths penning a song to go with those wise words.

As Raw Egg said, there is almost no one who would vote against this campaign. With a modern new red flag design and an alliterative motto, no one can beat Raw Egg’s charm.

On our way back to our office, we thank our consultants and tell Aunt Eggma all about our encounter with Raw Egg. (She faints.) We meant to thank Eggie, too, but he seems to have vanished into thin air…

Miscellaneous - Obituary
215 words

Eggie the Egg was a valued member of our community. He will be dearly missed by many eggs - though mostly the hard-boiled ones - for his engagement in the community’s politics and his multiple unsuccessful attempts to become mayor of the undefined area near Yolkstone Park. From birth, Eggie the Egg was respected as one of the strongest, most bold voices in our community. He would always grumpily help the hard-boiled eggs (no one else) out with any chores and, one rare time, could be seen dancing the tango in the town square. His life was the total opposite of his untimely disappearance: not at all mysterious, quite shallow, and unbelievably boring. His values never changed from birth to death, and surely still have not. Eggie was the constant we needed in our community; every day, after leaving work, we could count on him being at the street corner, handing out the pamphlets he eagerly wrote himself. He spent so much time on those pamphlets, we would all take one from him out of sympathy, and (given that you were a hard-boiled egg) he would crack a slight, crooked grin at you.
Rest in pieces, Eggie. You were not necessarily a light in our community, but you were…there?. We will attempt not to forget you.

Scratchtopia Times
All of this is FICTION and made for the second SWC weekly. I decided that it would be fun to write it like Scratch was a city, but I based some of the topics off of actual Scratch updates and features. Also this is really badly written, I started this the day that it was due so it’s not well written at all.

Article One: Scratch Writing Camp Cabins
Scratch Writing Camp, a camp that’s been going on for several years at this point has grown into quite a popular triannual Scratch event. Here in Scratchtopia, fifteen separate cabins are set up and hundreds of people participate in this stunning event. However, Scratch has not yet made it official, much to the dismay of the campers and leaders of the cabins. Rather than having the camp as an official event, the setup is left to the Scratchers.
The fifteen cabins, which consist of Mythology, Thriller, Adventure, Science Fiction, Historical Fiction, Script, Non Fiction, Horror, Fairy Tales, Fantasy, Fan Fiction, Mystery, Poetry, Realistic Fiction and Dystopian are all named after genres of books or writing.
In Scratchtopia the cabin designs reflect the genre and are all uniquely decorated and designed. So, we had one of our top reporters, go in and take a look at each of the cabin designs.
The cabins listed below are in the order of what place they are in at the time of writing this.
To start, Mythology. Myth Maze, as the cabin is called, has a twisting loop of walls which lead to different dimensions in the multiverse which includes the various groups which the cabin is sorted into and even to the Main Cabin.
Next is Thriller, the endless pit, the abyss. The Thriller Rift is a complicated and mysterious cabin where the campers float around in endless darkness before finding the doors to the main cabin, challenges and all in between.
Following Thriller we have Adventure Parks, a wooden building surrounded by roller coasters and rides galore. The rangers, or leaders, of the cabin are introduced after you exit the bus which takes you to begin your journey of SWC.
And now, the Science Fiction Hacking Ring- a group of unfathomable and powerful programmers controlling the government both online and offline. The cabin is mysterious and dimly lit, with screens and holograms in every corner and campers rushing to finish the challenges at every moment.
In addition, we have the Historical Fiction Renaissance Fair. The cabin is (as you may guess) somewhat old-fashioned with a small bustling town within SWC. The town includes things like the Town Center, ranking boards, and even a food hub!
Next is Script! The cabin, taking inspiration from Romeo and Juliet, the Shakespear play, is a tiny village with sweeping curtains and majestic lounges where writers of all ages can write in mystical gardens.
What’s more we have Non Fiction Press, a printing factory with flying papers, a neat, but chaotic place where they may just be printing this for Scratchtopia Times. The halls are easy to navigate, with comfortable barracks for the campers to sleep.
Following that is Horror Arcade, a creepy and sketchy place in the dark alleyway in between Non-Fi Press and Fairy Tale Trails. The arcade is dimly lit and cheaply painted, but the experience that you will have there is unforgettable. The games there include laser tag, an assortment of arcade games and writing challenges that you will never, ever forget.
Next is Fairy Tale Trails, a stunning castle where the lines of good and evil blur together until you are unsure who you are even talking to- and what they might do to you. The castle has majestic paintings, swirling staircases, balconies and banisters that only belong in story books.
Thereafter is Fantasy, a coven of magic and royalty where witches and priestesses linger, begging you, enchanting you to write. Candles light the way as you walk through the shadows of the trees that seem that they could eat you alive. But they won’t. Most likely.
Next is the Fan Fiction Republic, three towering skyscrapers full of government hackers, peacekeepers, and spies. The conditions of the Republic look nice from the outside, but you must work in order to get in and stay there. The campers live in lofts which they rarely see as they work to hunt down anomalies.
After that is Mystery Shore, where a monster seems to be haunting the bay. The campers live, carve, protect, write and spy in the trees trying to spot any clue of this so-called ‘monster’ while also doing all they can to stay on top of SWC.
Now you can hike up the Poetry Mountain Lodge, a warm and comfortable place- or so it seems. The peak of Mount Epic is thousands of kilometers high and nearly always in terrible climbing conditions. One you reach the lodge however, you will find tons of writers, poets and authors just like you!
Next is the Realistic Fiction Restaurant. The restaurant has a bustling atmosphere with delicious foods and delicacies and places to write everywhere you go! They seem to be welcoming, except of course to their enemies whom they will war without question.
And finally we have Dystopian cabin! The Dystopian cabin is a castle in the sky, surrounded by puffy white clouds and dozens of writers. It can get rather cold that high in the sky, but the castle features fireplaces in many of the rooms to warm you up!

And those are all of the Scratch Writing Camp cabins! There is, of course, the Main Cabin (which is pretty much your average camp cabin, except with cookies and comfy writing chairs everywhere) and the sibling studios and other things like that, but that is, unfortunately, all I have for this article!



Article Two: Restaurant Review
Written by a Fictional Person

A close friend of mine recently told me about this new restaurant in Scratchtopia and told me I should review it for the newspaper. Me, loving food and judging people, immediately agreed to go and write a review on this brand new restaurant. So without further ado, let’s get into it!

The restaurant, Bonum Popina, is located near Scratch Central, close to Explorer’s Way and the Forum Express. From the outside, the restaurant has a modern look, with floor to ceiling windows and an elevator to get to each floor. It looked nice, however it wasn’t the homey-restaurant look I usually go for. I step inside the door into a beautiful cafe-style entryway. Dozens of people mill around, sipping tea or coffee or eating.
A waiter immediately guides me to the elevator and brings me to my seat on the second floor. I inspected the seat, which sat at a round one person table. The table had a white marble top and a small section of condiments at the side of it. The seat was of the same style, with a white base and gold accents along the sides. It had a stunning view of Scratchtopia and I could even see studios in the distance, where hundreds of Scratchers, young and old, were sharing their projects with the world.
After just a few moments, a different waiter arrives and shows me the menu, which was quite long, but had a nice design on it. I order a chai tea latte and the waiter leaves, leaving me to look at the menu.
The menu was nice, though a little cluttered, I must say. I decided to order a vanilla waffle with scrambled eggs and sausage on the side. Bonum Popina did offer quite a few options of food and I resolved to come back and try a different meal if everything went well today.
When the waiter comes back with my tea latte, just a few minutes later, I tell him my order and he leaves again. I taste my chai tea latte and am pleasantly delighted at how it tastes. It was the perfect temperature and it had the perfect amount of cream in it.
I decide to inspect the room and see how the rest of the place looks. The rest of the room is beautifully furnished with elegant couches and chandeliers. There’s about a dozen people up here eating and about four more waiting for their food. I was delighted to see a fireplace, which added to the homey look, which I loved.
About fifteen minutes later my food arrived and I was finally able to dig into my meal. I was excited to find that I could get free refills of my tea latte, which I asked about when my waiter arrived with my food.
The waffle was delicious, warm and had just the right amount of vanilla. It was fluffy on the inside, but had that perfect crunch on the inside, like the waffle from my dreams. It was, in one word, yummy. There were topping options of chocolate, whipped cream, syrup and several more, which was delightful. I was unfortunately not able to finish it, as I still had my eggs and sausage to eat as well before I got too full.
The eggs were decent, not nearly as good as the waffle, but just like your typical restaurant eggs. They were a little plain and got cold quickly, but were fine nonetheless.
And finally, the sausages. The sausages were fine, a little bit too greasy for my taste, but they stayed hot and went well with the waffle.
Once I finished my food, I thanked the waiter and left, leaving a generous tip at my seat.

So in conclusion? I would rate the restaurant Bonum Popina four out of five stars. The customer service was excellent and I was able to get my food in just a few minutes after ordering, unlike some restaurants in town. The place was clean, though that may just be because it just opened. The menu was a little cluttered and hard to read, but the food was really exquisite. The waffles were by far my favorite part of the meal and the chai tea latte I got was really worth the price, and it was great to get a free refill of it when I finished it. The eggs and sausage were good as well, though not as phonamanal as the waffle and latte were. The design of the restaurant could be overlooked, but once you look closer, it is worth going to. I will definitely be coming to this restaurant again, maybe next time for dinner or lunch.

(NOT REAL) If you liked this review, check out my review website where I post weekly reviews from the best (and worst) restaurants in Scratchtopia. If you would like a review on your restaurant then email me. Who knows? Yours might just be one of my favorites.



Article Three: The Latest Gossip
Written by Another Fictional Reporter

In case you haven’t heard, there’s been some fishy things going around Scratchtopia. From the latest breakups to rumors that would make you gasp, I, a fictional reporter, has it all! Today we have a breakup from two of Scratch’s most beloved mascots!

Giga and Nano recently broke up after a terrible fight last Saturday night. These beloved mascots had enough and decided to call quits on their relationship.
In case you don’t know, Giga and Nano are two of Scratchtopia’s most iconic celebrities. Giga is a small grey creature with red hair covering her, pointy ears and an adorable tuft of hair on her head. Nano on the other hand, is also a grey creature with grey hair and round ears on the sides of his head. Since April, the two lovebirds have been dating.
But just this morning, I received a tip that they decided to break up. Apparently Nano had been hanging out with Tera (another Scratchtopia celebrity) a bit too often for Giga’s liking.
“Giga’s always been a bit of a jealous type,” Gobo, a friend of Giga’s, says. “Don’t tell her I said this, and she’s lovely of course, but she never trusts Nano completely.”
“Of course I won’t tell!” I say, while proceeding to type all of this up for the newspaper.
According to a neighbor, Giga left the house this morning, and didn’t come back. Is she as through with the relationship as we all think? Let’s find out.
According to his social media status Nano is currently single. He’s not with Tera yet, at least not officially.
When questioned about the matter, Tera said, “Giga and Nano are both really nice. They make a pretty cute couple.”
“And what do you think about Nano, specifically?” the reporter had asked.
“He’s nice.” Tera said, though unable to hide her blushing cheeks.
After interviewing Tera, we were eager to get Nano and Giga’s perspective on the topic, but were only, unfortunately, able to get Nano’s. Giga refused to be questioned.
“Me and Giga just had enough,” he said. “I don’t know why the press cares so much, but we decided to just end it. The relationship.” he clarifies.
“What about Tera?” the reporter asked.
“What about Tera?” Nano responded.
“Well, is it true that you broke up because of her?” the reporter said, unable to keep it formal.
“Of course not,” Nano says, denying the obvious. “Tera is just a friend.”
Well Nano, they’re always ‘just a friend’, until they become even more…
As I said before, Giga refused to be interviewed on the topic saying on her studio, which was filled with all of her followers, I’d rather not talk to strangers about my relationship status, thanks.
Her followers and fans were a mix of supportive and angry. Many were supportive of her decision not to address it, while others craved the drama and were insulted that she refused to tell them.
So what do you think? Do you think that Giga and Nano are officially over? Or are they going to make it work? If so, let us know on the newspaper's website and remember to stay updated on life with Scratchtopia Times.



Article Four: Advertisements

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***None of what I wrote was real. Everything is a work of fiction, including all of the prices, reporters and most of the characters.



Word Count:
Part One: 907 words
Part Two: 837 words
Part Three: 544 words
Part Four: 247 words
Total (including titles, transitions and introduction paragraphs): 2624 words

Daily 16 (300 words)
Leah sat in the room with her friend, wearing her purple hoodie she always wore with great fashion. She also wore her iconic black leggings and shoes, and wore a bored expression on her face. Her brown hair (which was shaped in a bob cut) was oddly neat today - something that didn’t happen often. She wore a golden necklace around her neck.
“What’s that?” her friend asked curiously, pointing at the necklace.
“Ah,” Leah began. “Shall I tell you a story?”
“Yes!” her friend exclaimed. She claimed to love stories. “Tell me about it now!”
The sides of Leah’s mouth twitched. “Sure, if you’re not too bored of cats.”
“CATS!” her friend shouted excitedly, making Leah embarrassed.
“Shut—” Leah waved a hand in front of her friend to make her stop speaking.
Her friend suddenly sat still, on the edge of her seat.
“Tell me, then!”
“Alright, alright,” Leah said. She rolled her eyes. “One day, there was a lonely and lost kitten on the street.”
“Aww!” her friend gushed.
“It was so lonely that I decided to bring it home.”
“That’s not like you at all,” her friend remarked, straightening up. “I know you would have not picked it up and carried it home - you would just leave it there.”
“Well, life is surprising,” Leah smiled. “Anyways, we raised it, fed it milk, and then once it was nursed back to health someone adopted the little cat.”
“Aww! How cute!” her friend said. “That’s so nice of you!”
“I was five back then.” Leah said stiffly, without moving from her seat.
“Oh.” her friend replied. “Well, you were nice back when you were five!”
Leah sniffed. “Yeah, about right.”
“What’s that necklace for, then?” her friend asked.
“Ah,” Leah said with a smile. “Shall I tell you another story?”

Daily 16
345 words

So how do I do this again? Ohh I remember. My name is Toya Estell Veins and I have three annoying sisters whom I’m responsible for taking care of. Great awesome. My story started in harsh winter in Rimarba my hometown which tecnecliy isn't a town anymore or a place. I was
only a twelve-year-old kid back then. A kid who didn't have anything to worry about except for beating his opponents and being first. My mother was a great woman who took care of us and sheltered us in the harsh place called the rimbrea. But I had to leave the comfort of being a child and grow up early. Every day we started a rimbrea the days became longer and more difficult to pass. The sun barely showed in the sky and the snow which froze us was our only guest. My mother knew that we couldn't survive the days there. Those who lived in rimbrea were hidden from the world and the world hide from them. My mother, did everything she could on our darkest and coldest days in rimbrea to get us out of there. We did one day but then she wasn't with us. Being the oldest sibling I had to take care of my sisters and give them hope. A great man named Shanse and his sister TogaArya took us in. Great people. They thought me the way of the great and trained me to become one of them. I did one day. Ok, how many words did I pass? 256. Now I stand in the great kingdom of Lasanga as their leader and hope. I am truly in dept of their kindness but even they couldn't make sisters less annoying. I was their favorite because of that. I made some friends along the way whom I’m disappointed to say are a lot more annoying than they could be. That's it of the story and take that I made some things up along the way I mean who am I to trust you to guard my secrets?

daily - july 16
words: 435

“So, tell me a two-and-a-half minute moment that changed your life. Then, you can go,” Aqelian could vaguely hear someone saying. The room, a dizzying shade of bright pink with lime green accents moving around it, was fading in and out of her view like everything else.
“Well,” Aqelian began. She took a deep breath and swallowed. “I think a really important moment in my life was when the Choosing happened. It was a sunny day- though it was always sunny around the Academy-, but we didn’t expect that that day would be when the time ran out.
“I had just come back from the… It was a test, though I don’t remember what it was for, and I was going to tell one of my classmates, Darenil, that it was his turn to take the test, but I came in and I saw that everyone was crowded around the Listener.
“The classroom only had two Listeners, but really only one was operational since the other one’s line had been cut and the teachers hadn’t fixed it yet. Everyone was crowded around the one that worked, and I could just barely hear that the previous Timekeeper’s turn had ended and that the Staff was beginning the process of choosing the next one.
“I recall that there were people who had been talking, but everyone quieted once they found out that the next Timekeeper was being chosen. It was the purpose of our lives- join the government, help the world- that had been drilled into our minds by our teachers. I just remember thinking in my head, it won’t be me. It won’t be any of us in this room. I don’t think any of us could possibly handle it.
“And then the announcer stopped talking and started reading the words appearing around the Staff as it narrowed down the list of candidates. It started getting closer and closer to where we were, and I was just hoping that it was the school across from us.”
Aqelian paused. “…And, well, I think you can figure out what happened next. I got somehow selected, and now we’re here. Wherever here is.”
Just as soon as she finished her story, the room vanished and she was back in her office. Everything was clear again; she could see each detail in her surroundings, just like before. It was a normal night, and she was pretty sure that the room had just been a dream.
But had she looked behind her, she would have noticed the open window and person fleeing the scene. Maybe it wasn’t a dream after all.

WEEKLY 2:
Wordcount: 2460
Horror Cabin
Time taken: Exactly 4 hours

Part 1: Main Informational Article (810 words, Politics):

There’s a race in Politics, the President of the United States needs to be decided on. This year’s candidates include Kim Hawke of the Democrats, and Jeremy Sing of the Republicans, along with Timothy Back of the green party and Ether Wren of the independent party.
Kim Hawke has plans to lower gun violence in the U.S. claiming, quote, “Not another child, a child’s parent, a child’s grandparent, will have to live in fear every day they send their children off to school. I will make it my mission for everyone to be safe from guns, and tighten our policy that clearly no one else has decided to handle.” Kim Hawke has an upcoming speech in Los Angeles, California on July 20th, 2022. She is currently being viewed positively by the community, and has a reputation for being a powerful and able minded young senator of Illinois. Powerful male figures have lashed out against her, calling her young and naive, presumably because they would not accept a woman in office. Hawke has not addressed her haters.

President Jermey Sing of the Republicans makes promises to lower taxes and gas prices, and will be revealing his big plan on July 29th 2022 at Washington D.C. He remains mostly a mysterious figure, not doing much even during his term, but appears to be well-known by his colleagues, quote Nelson Nicks, “Mr. Sing has great plans for this country and these people, I’ve seen it myself. He’s going to shape America into a better place to live altogether.” Jeremy Sing has supporters on their toes, but it’ll just be a matter of time before we see his popularity skyrocket or plummet. Stay tuned on 123 News, or Channel 8 on T.V. and set your alarms.

Timothy Back has had the most speeches so far in the race, an astonishing twenty one. He is very open about his ideas for affordable housing, with his slogan already decided on “Back to affordable housing!” He says, quote, “My father, and my father’s father, and my grandfather’s father never had to deal with as much hardship as we do today with housing. But if you elect me as president, America, I will change that! Your voices will be heard!” Back promises demands to be met within a year and a half of his presidency, but due to being so open, he’s received critique from reporters, and is described as foolish.

Ether Wren’s take on global warming and climate change is bold, unique, and slightly dangerous. As he puts it, “You know that Climate Change is wrong, but you don’t act on it! With me as your president, I vow to be that movement to help Climate Change, to slow down carbon emissions and waste, oil rigs and much more. Just you wait, America. Every house will have solar panels and wind turbines by the time my term is over!” His plan for “An eco friendly-everything”, while there are some helpful benefits, It’s costly, and many people express their doubt that he will be able to hold up the economy with that kind of plan. Climate Change specialist Henry Trall talks with the press about how much materials it would take to build so many solar panels and wind turbines, the risks, and the room problems. “While Wren’s take seems good, it’s just got too many flaws,” says one former supporter. Wren has been silent as of recently, and we plan to see how he responds to the press next week.

Daymond Fletcher, Independent, is another candidate for this year. Fletcher is a 27 year old singer from New Jersey, with 108.3 Million followers on Scratchgram. He gained popularity in 2018 with his hit single, “Fly Away.” which got 987 million views on ScratchTube as of 2022. He appears to have no other motive other than crossing ‘president of the united states’ off his bucket list. He tweeted, “If you make me president, I’ll make Fly Away the national anthem.” He was met with an uproar of eccentric fans and unhappy candidates. Timothy Back briefly mentioned in an interview that he was not a fan of Fletcher’s but his granddaughter was. Troy Blov, a Canadian rapper, tweeted his reply, “I’ll be with you brother.” But the initial hype has died down, and it looks like Fletcher will have to wait another four years.

Overall, the votes seem to be focused on Kim Hawke and Jeremy Sing. It’s still too early to tell which one of them might be in office leading our nation. Jeremy Sing remains in the public’s eyes as “One of the most boring presidents of all time.” Last year he helped with homelessness slightly, but so far, he hasn’t done much good in his four year term. “Kim Hawke may have the upper hand,” Eddie Lyon, a powerful press figure says.


Part 2: Main Opinion Article (829 words, Book Opinion):

I’ll be talking to you about the series: Keeper of the Lost Cities by Shannon Messenger. (Major spoilers ahead for all books.)

Let’s begin with the characters, starting with the main character, Sophie Foster.
Sophie Foster is problematic. She’s oblivious, runs off without thinking, and gets all the boys. The main focus of kotlc is the magical world and saving it from the neverseen, your classic person vs. person, or good vs. evil. But Sophie being liked by Fitz Vacker, Keefe Sencen, and Dex Dizznee (whom she turned down after kissing), just makes the books seem like a bad focus on teen romance. I was invested into the story before it became the infamous Fitzphie vs. Sokeefe/Team Foster-Keefe. All elves also have blue eyes, and Sophie complains about her brown ones. Is this really what Shannon messenger wants to teach kids? That being different is bad, or specifically brown eyes are bad?

I thought the plot was actually interesting when they talked about Sophie living with the humans, and breaking the age-old barrier between elves and humans, as elves had cut their ties off because of their belief that humans are evil, and reckless. But no, it’s just the evil old neverseen. More on Sophie, she’s too much of a Mary sue. She has 5 powers as of now, one that no other elf even has! She has incredibly Telepathy, (which is supposed to be rare, even though like five characters are confirmed to have it), she’s an Inflictor (can cure broken minds, one of the worst things to happen to elves, debatably worse than death, or inflict pain, which is just op period), a Teleporter (self-explanatory), a Polyglot (she brought an entire species (Alicorns) from extinction and can speak all languages in the world, go figure), and Enhancing, which is super useful to all her friends, if she’s with Biana Vacker, Biana can turn everyone touching her invisible. Oh, did I mention that we have two books to go and she also has a nearly impenetrable mind? And her mentor, Tiergan, says that she has the potential to be one of the strongest Keepers they’ve ever seen. Alden Vacker also praises her about every twenty seconds about how great she is. Oh her first year, sophie even wins a splotching tournament, even though she’s never played it before, and performs one of the HARDEST moves, a brain push, ever. Can we just stop with what she can do now? I enjoy a good Mary Sue but Sophie is on a whole different level of out of hand.

Now, let’s talk about the world itself. The writing is great, and the worldbuilding is a nice floral and crystal, shining fantasy world. But if you scratch the surface, there are some cultural things that are… less than Ideal. First of all, we HAVE to talk about representation. Kotlc’s main character is blond with brown eyes and white skin. The main love interests have blue eyes, blond hair, and white skin, while the other one has blue eyes, brown hair, and white skin. Do you see the problem here? They’re mostly just white skin, which is horrible representation, in which we don’t even get a dark skinned character until Wylie, Maruca, and Emery, side characters. Also, we haven’t seen any confirmed LGBTQ+ characters either! How are members of the LGBTQ+ community supposed to feel represented? If you identify as non-binary, you can’t see yourself in any of them. It’s just so problematic.

There’s another problem with elves, one right by our noses. Shannon describes elves as being “naturally beautiful”, which apparently means none of them have freckles or different body types, and this is almost a direct quote from the book, but she also says that “elves are like movie stars in the human world” which again, trash representation. This is pretty much saying that you need white skin, and a skinny body to be “beautiful”, and just, no.The matchmaking system is even worse. It picks and chooses who you can love, and wowie, it assigns all female elves male suitors, and male elves female suitors, which is just so, so, problematic. I am also going to point out that elves are immortal by age, and their minds “can’t cope with violence well” (which can cause their mind to break), creating a passive world. They don’t even seem to be affected by weather at all. No thunder, no rain, no nothing, just clear skies. Fantastic.

Dex Dizznee, Sophie’s friend and cousin (not by blood) gets ignored, even though he prepares all of the gadgets and is one of the smartest minds in the kotlc universe. Sophie tosses him away in favor for her other circle, and Dex never gets to go on missions. I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned to the Neverseen out of anger.

Overall, this book series is great on the surface, but it doesn’t take long to find some things that are horrible about it.


Part 3: Column (511 words Arts and Style):

Let’s catch you up on the latest trends and style!

In huge news, the game Fall Guys came out free on June 21st, and made a comeback, amassing over 47,000 viewers on Twitch. More people than ever are flooding into it, but it’s clearly not as large of a sensation as Among Us.

Speaking of more gaming, the Minecraft Youtube star Alexander “Technoblade” has tragically passed due to sarcoma, a kind of cancer. He was 23 when he died, and his father released a video “So long nerds” on June 30th. Since then, that video is the most popular video on his channel, with 73 million views as of July 16th, 2022. Hypixel, a server that he made videos on, dedicated a monument to him where players could pay their respects by writing a message in a book. Simon Hypixel, the owner of the server, tweeted that he would be printing out all of the notes and mailing it to Technoblade’s family. Other youtubers have said their goodbyes and paid their respects to him through videos.

The Hermitcraft server, one of the most popular in all of the Minecraft community, has updated to 1.19, and the border has been removed.

The Sims 4 has released a new High School extension pack.

Artfight has begun as of July 1st! In artfight, users can create their own characters, join teams, and attack the opposing team by drawing their characters. This year’s theme is Bloom vs. Wither, with team Wither currently in the lead, but not by much. Artfight ends July 31st, and any questions can be asked in the official artfight discord server, found on artfight.com.

Brawl Stars has released a new season! Season 13 features Otis, the new chromatic Brawler, and is themed “Deep Sea Brawl.” When completing all levels of the paid brawl pass, players will receive a skin for Otis, called Pharaotis (themed like an egyptian pharaoh). New skins include Sharktooth Colt, Octo Fang, and Coral Belle. Random Mode and Hunters are two new game modes added. Random Mode assigns players to a random game (Bounty, Gem Grab, Hot Zone, Knock Out, or Brawl Ball). Hunters is styled like Solo Showdown, but ends when one player has 6 kills, and you are assigned placement based on your number of kills before the game ends.

In the K-pop community, BTS star J-Hope released his single “Arson” under Hybe Labels. The video holds 13 million views on its first day.
Stranger things Season 4, part 2 came out on July 1st, 2022, with a 5th season confirmed.

On the beloved Billboard Hot 100, “As it Was” by Harry Styles still remains #1, But “About **** Time” By Lizzo (#2) is quickly catching up. Stranger Things absolutely skyrockets the popularity of “Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)” by Kate Bush up into #4. “First Class” by Jack Harlow gets demoted to #3 (formerly #2), but still remains increasingly popular among young fans.

We’ll be back with more trends next week, so stay tuned on the Arts and Style Column!


Part 4: Other (310 words, Awards):

For our Scratch Times, we challenged thinkers from ages 7 - 10 to submit the most delicious descriptions they could think of. We partnered with a local restaurant, Serenity Now, to make the dishes come to life. They are available until August 15th.

For our Appetizers:

“Spicy Mozzarella Sticks” by Caleb Blanche. ‘Silky smooth fried cheese sticks rolled in crumbly bread crumbs and infused with piquant vermillion peppers.’

“Steak and Cheese Egg Rolls” by Marissa Dyke. ‘The gooey goodness of steak and cheese wrapped in a crunchy fried shell.’

“Shrimp Dumplings with Lemongrass” by Ian Lemoore. ‘Soft dumplings filled with flamingo pink shrimp and minty-lemony lemongrass.'

For our Entrees:

“Veggie Pizza” by Suko Ling. ‘Mouthwatering, rich, tangy feta cheese pizza topped with tart sun dried tomatoes and emerald green spinach.’

“Mac and Cheese with Bacon Bits” by Sophie Donald. ‘Gooey cheese in chewy noodles sprinkled with crispy bacon bits.’

(Our grand prize winner) “Special Sauce Hamburger” by Dylan Tran. ‘A gigantic, juicy beef patty with crunchy lettuce, stringy mozzarella cheese, creamy golden kewpie mayo, and juicy garnet red tomatoes sandwiched between two fluffy buns.’

For our Drinks:

“Mint Lemonade” by Sarah Welding. ‘Pungent lemons blended with refreshing emerald mint leaves and crisp cold ice.’

“Mango Passionfruit Soda” by Ruby Jones. ‘An effervescent drink, featuring syrupy sweet mango and passionfruit.’

“Non-Alcoholic Spiced Sangria Mocktail” by Jade Mitchell. ‘Black tea infused with fiery species and scarlet fruit juice.’

For our Desserts:

(Our runner up) “Nutella Swirl Cheesecake” by Walter Booke. ‘Enormous, sweet and slightly tangy cheesecake squares swirled with creamy nutella on a crunchy crushed oreo bottom.’

“Honey Pistachio Ice Cream” by Erica Williams. ‘Sweet, lucious ice cream with crunchy, nutty hazel pistachios.’

“Churros with chocolate peanut butter sauce” by Carlos Toledo. ‘Chewy sugary classic churros dipped in rich dark chocolate peanut butter sauce in a cup.’

Congratulations to all of the Winners.

Weekly #2 - Newspaper
2383 words total


Part 1: Fake Crime
814 words
BREAKING NEWS: SWC HOSTS ACCUSED OF KIDNAPPING
On the 14th of July, a camper who has requested to remain anonymous made a claim that the Hosts have been kidnapping campers and hiding them in a secret office in the woods surrounding SWC. This office was previously unknown and The SWC Post has been unable to confirm or deny its existence.
The camper in question told the Post that they were playing hide and seek in the Main Cabin when they found it. “I was hiding in the broom closet on the second floor when I fell into… something,” they said.
The Post sent Luna Zapalac and Alba Alocasia, two firey reporters, to investigate the broom closet. When they returned, they said that all they found in the closet were brooms. “If there is some truth behind the camper’s claims, the Hosts have done a good job covering it up,” Zapalac reported.
Claims have previously been made of the Hosts commiting crimes against campers and leaders, but none have ever been proven. A few of the accusers even became Hosts themselves, leading to speculation that they had been bribed.
The camper described the Hosts’ secret office for the Post. They said it was “surrounded by dark woods” and that there were screams coming from inside.
When asked for comment, Honey immediately answered, “It’s sound effects!” before Birdi interrupted them, saying, “We decline to comment.”
The camper also informed the Post that there were curtains over the windows, so they couldn’t look in. When asked how they got back to the Main Cabin, they said they didn’t remember. “Maybe the Hosts knocked me out and brought me back here themselves,” they suggested.
UPDATE JULY 15:
On July 15th, Vi Violet visited the broom closet. Violet is a camper at SWC who is experienced in investigating crimes. She told us that she reported her findings to us almost immediately after. “I moved around some of the brooms,” she said, “and there it was! A swirling blue and pink portal in the ground. I stuck only my head in and found myself in the woods outside a shed. It’s very rickety and old. I stuck my phone through to take a picture and the camera couldn’t pick up anything, but I did notice that I had fantastic service — 5 bars!”
Luna Zapalac investigated a map of internet access across the globe, but it appeared that there was no internet within a 50 mile radius of SWC. However, it does make sense that the Hosts would have good internet at any office of theirs. It was previously unknown where the Hosts had their meetings, so it almost seems like everything is fitting together.
UPDATE JULY 16:
Alba Alocasia returned to the broom closet to investigate Vi Violet’s claims yesterday, the 15th. When she did not return, The SWC Post performed an extensive search of the woods surrounding SWC. They feared that she may have been kidnapped. However, before she could found in the woods, she returned to the front steps of the Main Cabin. She told the Post, “I found the portal in the broom closet and went through it. I ended up in the middle of the woods, but there was no shed. I went back to the portal, but the door to the broom closet must have shut while I was gone, because I was locked inside. There’s no handle on the inside of the door. I banged on the door, but no one answered, so I went back through the portal and wandered through the woods until I returned here.”
Alocasia speculated that the Hosts had read our news article and moved their office and the kidnapped campers to a new location.
UPDATE JULY 17:
Vi Violet emailed us to point out that Alba Alocasia is a former Host and may be involved in the crime. She speculated that Alocasia is an accomplice to the Hosts and is lying about what she found. Upon receiving this email, The SWC Post sent Luna Zapalac with Vi Violet to the broom closet to investigate. The two investigators brought cell phones and walkie talkies and were in contact with reporters at The Post’s headquarters the entire time. As they went through the portal, there was a loud beeping through the walkie talkies, but it stopped as soon as they were in the woods. The walkie talkies were out of range, but they called us and the call was recorded. They found a shed and sent photos to the Post over email. There were sounds of screaming as the anonymous camper had claimed. They opened the door, which had been left unlocked — presumably because the Hosts expected that the investigation would end after Alba Alocasia’s report. All that they found were the Hosts sitting around a table and some speakers playing screaming sounds. They presume that no one was kidnapped.


Part 2: Restaurant Review
838 words
Yesterday, I visited the SWC Diner. The food and service were impeccable. At first, I was unsure what the experience would be like. The restaurant is mostly hidden — it’s in the basement of the Main Cabin. Most people eat in the dining hall, so I assumed that it would be neglected and the food would not be as good. However, the food was far better than what I’ve eaten in the dining hall! It’s a wonder the restaurant isn’t more crowded. I was greeted by a flock of parrots and robins, which led me to the table. I thought that they would then call a human server, but instead, they revealed that each table had a bird translation device. The birds squawked into the silvery orb, which then spoke in a robotic voice. They asked me what I would like to order, and I asked to see the menu. The menu contained a variety of options, from Stir-fried Sini, to Bakie Cake. The birds assured me that no Sinis or Bakies were harmed in the making of these meals. I ordered the non-fiction french fries and the script salad. For a drink, I ordered hydration water.
The non-fiction french fries are much like normal french fries. The only difference is that they have facts grilled onto each one. The writing is surprisingly legible! From my meal, I learned much about the history of SWC. The most interesting were about Betrayals - an element of Cabin Wars from March 2021 - and the effects of COVID-19 and quarantine on SWC, which really allowed me to reflect on my time spent writing. The non-fiction french fries also come with three sauces. The first is called Spice-Fi, which tastes like chili peppers and hot sauce. It was a bit too spicy for my taste, but I’m sure it’s perfect for those who enjoy spicy food! The second was my favorite. It was called Adventure Aioli, and it tasted like garlic. I asked for a second bowl of it when I ran out, and the birds brought it to me, free of charge! The third was also very good. It was called Dysto-pie-cream. It was sweat, like whipped cream, but the texture of a berry pie filling. The sweetness contrasted with the salty fries perfectly. My only critique of the fries is that you can’t choose which sauces you get. Other than that, they were perfect!
The script salad allows for much more personalization. It comes on lettuce no matter what, but everything else is personalizable! You are allowed to choose two dressings, one from the list of Blitzbane dressings and the other from the list of Emerson dressings. The Blitzblane dressings are more savory, while the Emerson dressings are sweeter. I also was allowed to choose six toppings from a very long list. I chose Contemporary Croutons, Dystopian Dried Fruit, Poetry Grilled Pineapple, Mystery Mozzarella, Real-Fi Grated Cheddar, and a side of more fries. The fries didn’t come with sauces this time, but I had leftover sauces from the first order. The fries are also very flavorful, so they would be fine without sauces. The salad was delicious — definitely one of the best that I have ever had in all my (two) days as a restaurant reviewer. It had a great mix of sweet and savory flavors, and I loved the apricot sauce.
The hydration water was the most hydrating that I’ve ever had! It was cold and fresh and it came in a cup with a paper twisty straw.
The birds cleared my dishes and brought me the dessert menu. I ordered Honey cakes and Icy cream. The birds made sure to mention that they were completely vegetarian. The Honey cakes were extremely sweet because they were soaked in Honey. They were very sticky as well, but the birds brought me many napkins. The Icy cream had many flavors. First, it tsated like chocolate, and then like vanilla. Then it tasted like mango! It was very cold — almost too cold, but not quite! It was certainly a magical experience. I ate a bite of the Honey cakes and Icy cream together, and the Icy cream became a certain flavor that I couldn’t quite identify. However, it went perfectly with the Honey cakes, so I can’t object. When I asked the birds how the flavor-changing Icy cream works, they didn’t know. More birds kept coming out from the kitchen to try to explain, but the translator wouldn’t translate some of hte worsd they were sayiing. It will forever be a mystery to humanity how the birds made ice cream that can change flavor.
I also loved the atmosphere of the SWC diner. They played mostly instrumental music, including piano covers of Alba Alocasia’s songs by Zai Polarbear, two of my favorite artists! The music wasn’t too loud and I could hear myself think, unlike a certain restaurant that I recently reviewed! The lights slowly changed color, making the entire restaurant rainbow. Overall, I loved the SWC Diner and would give it 5 stars.


Part 3: Advice Column
531 words
Question from @Isauree, paraphrased by me
Dear Sawyer,
I’ve been buying many mangoes for years, but recently they’ve started shrinking before I can eat them! Help?
With sadness, hunger, and disappointment,
Mango Lover

Dear Mango Lover,

I too love mangoes and I deeply empathize with your struggles. When this happened to me several years back, I had no idea what to do! I turned to google for help, but there was nothing. Then I turned to duck duck go, and there was also nothing! I was forced to wait it out. But in these past years, I have vowed to make sure that no one ever has to go through my struggles. I have conducted hundreds of hours of research and writtens tens of thousands of words of reports. Here are my findings.
First, make sure you are being kind to your mangoes. Mangoes are sensitive fruits, and any insults will cause them to shrink and become sour. I’m sure you’ve realized that if you’ve eaten them after they’ve shrunk. You may think that this sounds like an easy fix, but you must be very aware of what you are saying anywhere near the mangoes. They have absolutely amazing hearing, and can hear from a mile away. I’d recommend contacting your neighboring cabins and reminding them to be respectful of mangoes so that other people can enjoy them. You must also be careful to not act as if it is the mangoes’ fault that they are shrinking. It is an involuntary response, and complaining about it can cause them to think that they are bad mangoes and that something is wrong with them.
It is also possible that one of the neighboring cabins is trying to sabotage your cabin’s mango eating. Sometimes, my research is used for evil, and SWCers will whisper into their enemies’ cabins at night with insults to mangoes. This especially happens when cabin wars are coming up because everyone knows that mangoes help with writing motivation and make you type faster. Did this problem start right before cabin wars?
Another problem could be the amount of sleep inside your cabin. When people are staying up too late to write, the mangoes want to stay up as well to support them. However, this is very unhealthy for mangoes and causes them to shrink. They rely heavily on sleep and, in an ideal world, would sleep up to 16 hours a day — that’s almost as much as a koala! Talk to your cabin mates and make sure that they are taking good care of themselves. It’s also important that the mangoes know that you are drinking enough water and brushing your teeth. Not drinking enough water causes mangoes to secrete their water because they think that you don’t have access to enough. They are very caring fruits who will do anything to help you survive. Although mangoes do not have teeth to brush, they do start to turn into toothpaste for you and your cabin mates to use if you are not brushing your teeth enough.
I hope that your mango problems are resolved soon and wish you and the mangoes the very best! Please do contact me again if the problem worsens.
Sincerely,
Sawyer

Part 4: Advertisement
200 words
Join SWC today! We have mangoes, writing motivation, and so much more! All of our campers say that joining SWC gave them a sense of community with their fellow writers and their writing improved so much. Some people have been participating in SWC for five years! That’s how awesome it is! It can even help you improve in school. Many SWCers are good at essay writing and can give you tips! If you apply for leader, you will get practice applying for real world positions! We also have excellently targeted ads that won’t only be seen by people who are already participating in SWC! SWC gives you many life skills, including leadership skills, self motivation, and consistency! We are also very nice and do not pressure you to do things! We just want to have fun! The Hosts are very nice and friendly and will answer all your questions! Also, the fourth weekly is the coolest! You won’t regret doing it, and you will have lots of fun. We sing fun songs about SWC and write cool fanfiction! Join us today to improve your writing and make friends! We are awesome and cool and all of our members say so!

Weekly #2 7/16/2022

Word count: 595 words

Words written by me: 503 words

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Part 3, Advice:

Hello! Welcome back to Heidi Helps, an advice column. I, Heidi, will be answering 4 questions about SWC, from mangoes to schedules. If anything, I’m here to help.

Question 1: Everyone at SWC camp has MOD (Mango obsession disorder)! Should I be worried? - Anastasia_limanapa
This is a valid concern, but don't be worried! MOD is completely normal, especially in this camp! It comes from the deep love of SWC and mangoes. It is an obsessive disorder, but we highly encourage it! From mango fests to mango trees and mango people, it's almost weird if you aren't diagnosed with Mango Obsessive Disorder. I applaud you if you aren’t diagnosed already. Personally, I highly dislike the name as you can see it says ‘disorder’. It is not a disorder at all, as it motivates SWC-ers, but I'm not the mental health doctor here and aren't qualified to be one.

Question 2: I woke up today and realised that my whole room had been mangofied (meaning mangle accessories all the good stuff) should I turn it back? - SugarN_Milk
It's fine that your schedule is busy. Find ways in your schedule that you are able to help. This could mean writing during your free time during classes or just working a bit extra harder on your assignments. Every literary word you write counts! Remember that you don't have to write every day or check in all the time for SWC. If you have extra time one day, see if you can work on the daily. Plans can change or get canceled, so always be ready to help out! If you don’t think you can help, then you aren’t going to be prepared to help. If you are truly busy during the SWC session, it might also be better to just drop out. You wouldn’t want to add extra stress on top of your already busy schedule.

Question 3: AHH! My schedule is so busy that I barely have time to help my team in SWC? What should I do? - Emma201112y
I guess that this depends on your own preferences. If you are an SWC-er, you will understand the importance of mangoes. In a way, this is also a way to transform your room into a pure spirit of SWC. I would suggest that you keep it, in some way or another. If you want to revert it back to its old form, go for it! Just don’t let the mango accessories go to waste. I bet that you could get a lot of money if you sell it to another mango fanatic SWC-er. There are plenty of other ways that you can use it or customize it for your preferences, just play around and make it yours! In the end, it is your decision, so make the most of it!

Question 4: i am a single daughter, raising my mango. how do i talk to her about grapefruits? she's already interested in them… - wxtrmlxn-
This is a true and tricky dilemma… There are many ways to go about it. If you aren’t sure where to start, ask your parents or mentors of yours how to go about this. They had to go through it too, so they are bound to have some advice. When you talk to your mango, be sure to be clear and straight to the point. You never know how mangoes can take unclear things and twist your words, you know? If anything, being a single mom probably means that you are close to your mango. Don’t let this be the chance to pull you apart.

Weekly #2 7/16/2022

Word count: 800

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Part 2, Movie Review:

paragraph 4 has some spoilers, but that's it :>

Captain America: The First Avenger is the origin story of Steve Rogers, more commonly known as Captain America. This movie stars Chris Evans, Hayley Atwell, Sebastian Stan, Hugo Weaving, Dominic Cooper, and Tommy Lee Jones. It takes place in 1941, during World War II, mostly in New York. It's an action-adventure that thrills you and shows how the mighty hero came from humble beginnings.
The movie begins with Steve Rogers (Chris Evans). Not Captain America, nothing sugar-coated, just Steve. He repeatedly tried to join the military but gets rejected each time, because of his size and health conditions. Even though he continues to get no's, he keeps trying. This pays off when he gets accepted into the military. He is put into an experimental program that transforms him into ‘Captain America’, as people know him. He is used to promote freedom and justice, but not in the ideal idea he had in mind. Captain America goes on to fight the forces of the Nazis and HYDRA with Bucky Barnes (Sebastian Stan) and Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell).
I really enjoyed this movie for a lot of reasons. Firstly, it shows how not all big heroes come from big places. For example, Iron Man came from a privileged life and became a revered hero. For Captain America, not so much. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He was once what people would have considered the opposite of a hero. He was beaten up regularly and was thought of poorly. It shows how everyone can grow into something great, not just those who are privileged and fortunate. In a way, it motivates and stresses how anyone can become great if they are truly invested and have a goal they want to reach. Secondly, it gives you a back story of the big hero. It doesn't just go from his as a regular man too, Captain America but his life before then. It shows /how/ he got bullied, /why/ he believes in the things he does, and how he will /not stop/ until he accomplishes his goals. Third, it focuses on minor details. You hear the background noises and you brush it off. Later, you realize, that it played a part in how the characters acted. The writers didn't only focus on telling a story but on presenting a life.
I also like the movie because it is a stand-alone movie in a way. You don't need to worry about having any prior knowledge about Marvel or the Avengers at all. Knowing about a series or franchise always helps you to understand more, but it isn't a movie that you need to watch the prior movies to fully understand what is happening. I do also think that this movie is a crucial event that sets up a bit of what to expect in how the rest of the storyline is going to play out. It helps you understand not only Captain America as a character, but the world that Marvel is placed in a bit more. In a way, it sorta brought what I knew of Marvel back into a full circle, showing how each of the different parts fit together.
One thing that I personally thought was a bit unnecessary was the romance between Steve and Peggy. I mean, it does make the end a bit sadder and affects some minor points in the story, as well as how Steve reacts later on. I do think that overall, it feels a bit forced in a way? I think that the movie could have gone well and maybe a bit better if the whole romance aspect wasn't involved. It doesn't play a crucial part, but I do understand why the writers may have wanted to add it in. It's a subtle romance and romance is a popular genre that would possibly make some viewers enjoy it more. But in my particular case, I felt it wasn't the best. Maybe if it was executed in a different way I would have liked it. That is something that we will never know. I do understand how that relationship affected and will continue to affect Steve later on, especially as he gets to adjust and adapt to the new world that he is in.
All in all, I did really enjoy this movie. From the great acting and the writing, I was really invested in watching it and was hooked. I do also like how the writers made a movie to show how a young man became a national hero. It wasn't perfect, but it was raw and true to how Captain America is. Not only was it a backstory, but also a starting point for where the rest of the franchise branches off on. I think that that is what is truly inspiring and touching.

Main Cabin Daily 7/16
302 words

I was just getting to the bottom of the mountain. That part of the mountain, anyway— we were all high up compared to the royal city by the coast. But Axel’s wagon was rolling along like it always did. We were in a rush, because I had woken up late. Everyone who sold at the market was sitting in the back, just like me, and they were all on edge. It made sense. If they couldn’t sell everything, or at least most of their goods, they might not be able to eat for the rest of the week. That included me, too. We knew that if we got there late we’d miss the rush.
Just as we rolled into Lower Aiselle, just maybe five minute’s wagon ride from the market, I saw a little boy standing out front of a house. He was crying, knees skinned badly, his mother standing next to him. She looked worried, and I felt bad immediately. Most of the families around here didn’t have their own medical supplies, and there was no way she could have afforded a whole first aid kit by the looks of it. “Stop the wagon,” I said to Axel, and he complied.
“Please don’t take too long…” he replied, trailing off uncertainly.
I paused. It was a twenty minute’s walk from here to the market. Could I risk it? “Go on ahead. I’ll be there later.”
The mother looked at me. “No, it’s okay, you can go, I can’t pay you—”
I smiled at her. “It’s alright. I don’t want you walking for forty minutes to the market and back for medical supplies. I just want to help.”
“Are you sure?”
The wagon was already rolling away, Axel’s horses trotting merrily across the rough terrain. “Yeah, of course. Now, let me see…”

July 16th daily I will fix this—

The rope.
It slipped, again, through my fingers.
So I reached for it.
And pulled it up, until the frayed edges met my hand.
And I could almost feel my seven-year-old self’s hands on the rope, holding it at the same time I did as she slid down to go explore the world that had nothing to give her.
I had gotten a little close to the edge, and the sparkly white eyes of the world peered up at me, glazed in a new layer of ice from the frozen rain that had collapsed down in the night. Over the glassy ground walked a few passersby and all looked familiar even though I legally could not speak a word to them.
Except for one.
She looked up from the ground, where her pale green boots crunched the snow and dead brush. And her wide eyes met mine, and for a second I wondered if she was going to come over and strike up a conversation.
The next second, I was falling.
I’m still not sure how such a thing happened. But the ledge slipped out from under me and the rope thrashed in my hands. I’d been on the second story—if I couldn’t hold onto the rope for long enough, my seven-year-old self’s worst nightmare would suddenly flash into reality in front of me and then—
And then the rope.
Slipped, again, through my fingers.
And I didn’t have time to let the scream that swirled inside me escape my lips. I was about eleven feet in the air at that point and whatever was about to happen was probably severe. So my eyelids flickered closed and I stared into the deep dusty night. Rays of light tried to shine through, but they failed.
And then I felt someone steady me, and I was standing on my feet, which were pressed into the snow. And I opened my eyes and there were my navy blue boots and their mint green ones. It was the girl from across the street.
And I studied her for a brief moment—the rivulets of light swirling around her cheeks and the dusty-rose pink of her face. But something else struck me.
Her eyes.
Icy blue like lakes. Glassy, cracked by pain.
Frozen.
And she opened her mouth to speak.
“Are you o—“ Desperate clouds of fear fluttered across her vision and she ran away, just as I could see the ice melting in her eyes. She muttered something to herself as she padded far down the street, which sounded like the words “I’m not doing this again,” over and over and over.
I looked down to see a vibrant blue butterfly at my feet, the type that only flew through the peaks of Delmonta. With a shudder at the thought, I picked it up.
On it was a name: Emmalyn.
And a date: May 20th.

I’d only been there for a little over two minutes—the rope, the fall, the girl, probably Emmalyn—but the question hung onto me like I had hung onto that rope before she’d—saved my life, maybe. She’d saved my life, but as I’d stared at those cracked icy blue lakes, like the Cracked Lake that also reminded me of Delmonta, I’d wondered what her own life was like, and if maybe she was waiting for someone like me, someone who saw that exact pain of lifelessness and understood it and hated it and strived to fix it.
Because I cared, about this girl I hadn’t spoken to. I wondered if maybe I could be the one to heal the cracks.

Daily 17
837 words

“I want to go home,” whined Maisie for the tenth time. She and her mom had only been at the supermarket for fifteen minutes, but Maisie was already determined to leave and play video games.
“Fine,” snapped her mom. “If you're that bored, go outside and check out the flower display or something. But don't leave the area, okay?”
“Okaaay,” Maisie groaned, shuffling out the grocery store's sliding doors. She skimmed over each pot of flowers: yellow, pink, white, pink again. At least staring at flowers was slightly more interesting than staring at vegetables, but it was nothing compared to playing Breath of the Wild. She looked at more flowers: blue, orange, pink and glowing– Wait! Why was that one glowing?
Maisie touched one of the tiny pink petals. Suddenly she felt a pressure on her fingertip, like something was yanking her inside the flower. It pulled harder and harder until her feet left the ground and everything became a dizzy blur and when she regained her balance, she was standing somewhere completely different from where she was a few seconds ago. She had somehow ended up in a grassy flowered valley in the middle of a tall purple mountain range.
“What the heck was that?” she muttered to herself.
She was answered with a cry of, “Aaah! A human!” However, looking around, Maisie didn't find anyone who could have said that, until she glanced down. At her feet was a tiny person trying to run away into the bushes.
“Hey, little… thing! Wait!” Maisie called. “I'm not dangerous! I literally just got here, and I'm kinda confused, so can you help me?”
The creature stopped and looked up at her skeptically. “First off, I'm a fairy. There's no such thing as a non-dangerous human, and I have no way to help you. Bye.”
“Wait! Is there someone who does know how to help me?”
“Yeah, maybe our all-powerful queen, but that still doesn't solve the issue of having a giant stompy human lumbering around our city. We're having enough problems with crows as it is.”
“Come on!” pleaded Maisie. “Can't you just bring your queen out here to talk to me? I won't move, so then I won't destroy anything.”
“It is extremely difficult to get the queen to leave the city without planning in advance, but as an advisor, I will try. Stay there and don't move a muscle. You've already crushed a perfectly good patch of grass.”
“Thanks so much… uh…”
“Leif,” responded the fairy.
Maisie waited, trying not to move. Now she had time to wrap her mind around what had just happened. She'd just touched a magic flower, been pulled through what was probably a magic portal, had a conversation with a fairy, and was now going to meet their queen. And her mom might still be at the grocery store, not knowing where she was!
Just then, a fairy came flying out of the bushes, dressed in golden flower petals with a wreath on her head. “Human, meet the queen,” said Leif, flying beside her.
“It's Maisie,” she corrected. “Uh, Your Majesty, I just touched this flower portal thing and somehow I ended up here, so I was wondering, is there a way to get back to where I was?”
“There is a way, but it uses a lot of magical energy that I don't give out to just anyone,” said the queen. “If you help us fairies with a problem, I will return the favor by sending you home.”
“What problem?” Maisie wondered.
“Recently, crows have been attacking our city, eating citizens and destroying homes, and we fairies are not big enough to scare them away. Can you drive them away?”
“Yeah, I think so. I'll need materials, though.”
“We are at your service. What exactly do you need?”
Maisie thought for a moment. “Lots of fabric, long sticks or poles, string, something to draw with, and I'll need to use some grass as stuffing. This might take a while, but it's pretty effective.”
“Leif, order those materials from the supply fairies,” commanded the queen.
Soon, everything Maisie asked for was flown out to her, and she got to work sewing and stuffing. The fairies supplied her with freshly picked berries as she worked. For the final detail, she used the ink the fairies had given her to draw on a scary looking face on top. Then she stood back and admired her handiwork. A scarecrow, almost as tall as she was, stared back at her. Considering the quickness of the project, it looked pretty good. She stood her scarcrow next to the large patch of bushes which, the queen had said, covered the fairies' city.
When the queen saw that Maisie was done, she flew out to congratulate her.
“Well done, Maisie. I owe you a great deal of gratitude for saving our city. You may even stay here, if you would like, to be our official protector.”
“Thanks, but for now,” replied Maisie, “I want to go home.”

Oooh this was a fun daily!! Enjoy my strange story xDD

“The weather's nice today,” I say, staring upwards.
The sky is cloudless and perfectly blue. The sun hovers above my sister and I, its light perfect to read by.
I stretch out on the hammock, turning a page of my book. The story is just getting interesting—the princess is off to fight the dragon—when my sister nudges me.
“Do you hear that?” she asks. I sense worry in her voice; this is rare. She usually keeps control of her emotions.
“What?” I sit up, reluctantly setting my book next to me.
“Listen.”
I close my eyes, tune my ears in to the world. And then I hear it. A soft rumble comes from the distance, almost like faraway thunder.
I squint towards where the noise is coming from. A single cloud floats there, far in the distance, but easy to see across the wide, rolling plains of our farm. Tiny pinpricks of light shoot up and down from it.
“A storm?” I ask my sister. She was always scared of them.
She nods. “It's nothing. I'm sorry.”
I sigh. “It's alright.” I turn back to my book, instantly immersed back into its world.
***
A few minutes later, the sun has dimmed. I have to squint to see the pages.
Then, the first drop of rain comes. It drips down, landing on the side of my face and rolling down my cheek. As if that first drop was a test run, hundreds more droplets flood down from the skies, and the pages of my book are soaked.
Already sopping wet, I launch myself out of the hammock, grabbing my sister's hand and running towards the house. We make it inside, then turn to each other and laugh.
After being out in the rain for only seconds, our hair is soaked, and our faded clothes are speckled with drops.
Our laughter quickly stops as the first strike comes. The scalding bang shakes the earth, and I stagger to stay standing. We look at each other. My sister's eyes are wild, and suddenly the rain isn't so funny any more.
I beckon to her, and we head to her bedroom. In times like these, the best thing to do is simply to sleep through the storm.
I close the door, leaving her to change out of her wet clothes and get into bed. The rushing of ocean waves comes from inside the room, indicating that she has turned on her nighttime sounds.
I tiptoe to the window, my footsteps punctuated by another of those house-rattling bangs. Peering outside, my eyes widen. The farm is riddled with streaks of white lightning, tens of them seeming to hit the ground around us at once.
I quickly pull the curtains closed. In all my years here, I have never seen a storm as violent as this one. If each of those booms coming from outside were accompanied with an equally devastating lightning strike, something is sure to be set on fire, despite the rain pouring down outside.
Quiet steps sound from next to me, and I turn to see my sister, clutching her favorite stuffed rabbit by one ear.
“What's happening?” she asks in a small voice.
I try to seem nonchalant, though my heart is racing, and I'm sure she's perceptive enough to see through the act. “Nothing, really. I'm just glad we got inside when we did.”
She nods, but I can tell she doesn't believe me.
“Now, why don't we get you to bed?” I say, putting on a smile.
She nods again, and we walk together back to her room. I tuck her in, settling into the chair next to her bed for a while. As the storm rages on outside, I turn up the ocean sounds; I know they comfort her.
When I'm sure she's asleep, I turn to her window. Again, I pull the curtains aside, peeking through.
The storm is just as bad as it was an hour ago. Bolts of lightning singe the crops, and if I squint, I think I can make out several fires flickering among the raindrops.
***
The storm lasts for a year.
We make it through, somehow, like we always do. By the time the lightning has stopped, the clouds have moved on, we have grown used to them, used to the constant cracks of thunder in the background.
One day, though, light shines through the tightly shut curtains. It's brighter than I remember, and so I shield my eyes from its glare. My sister, though, comes running from her room, the smile lighting her face still brighter than the sun.
I pull the curtains open, letting light fall through, its ripples spreading across the wooden floor.
“It looks like the weather's going to be nice today,” I smile.

July 17th Daily

Word Count: 700

Now I realize, it’s all because I met her.
I never really knew this kind of friendship before. This talk to you everyday, plan for the future, laugh until you cry kind of friendship. But I did now, and it was all because I had met her.
It was a hot, late summer’s day when she had turned to me with a smile and introduced herself. There was something about that smile, I didn’t know what it was, but I knew I wanted to get to know this girl better, become friends with her.
Now, around a year later, I’m laughing my head off, tears streaming down my face, her by my side. I can’t believe I was lucky enough to befriend someone like her.

For a long time, this has been the only kind of friendship I’ve know. This argue everyday, fear for the future, stress until you cry kind of friendship. This was my life now, and it was all because I met her.
Sometimes I almost can’t remember that day when she’d caught me with her smile. That bright, everything is fun, come on and laugh with me smile. It wasn’t long after that day that I reached a point where I felt like I could easily trust her with my life. I felt safe with her, and she came to look out for me. She was a kind, funny, thoughtful person, and I looked forward to getting to hang out with her more then anything, because I knew no matter what we did, it would always be fun. I wonder where that girl went.
Now, over three years later, all that has changed. I’d give absolutely anything to go back to those days, but I’m starting to realize we’ll never be able to. I can hardly remember how things used to be, hardly remember how she used to be. Sometimes I don’t even know who she is anymore.
All of these changes have lead us to right now. I’m laying on my floor, tears streaming down my face, her on the other end of the phone. I never thought I befriended someone like her.
My currently wrecked emotional state it clear, even through the phone.
I think I’m scaring her.
But it’s not my fault. I couldn’t control this. I wouldn’t even be like this if she hadn’t pushed me to this point.
She starts trying to calm me down. At least, I think that’s what she’s doing.
It’s not really working.
At least she’s trying, I guess? Or is she? Is she actually trying to calm me down for my sake, or her own? Is the whole thing just another piece of drama for her to gossip about later? Is this horrible night how she’s finding excitement, be it at my expense?
She hangs up then, saying she needs to check something, but she’ll be right back. I mutter something that hopefully vaguely resembles “Okay.”
And then I’m left with silence, the hard tile of my floor cold and smooth against my cheek, the grout rough. She never should have left me alone like this, especially since she was the reason I was in this state. I never would have left her, had the roles been reversed.
But then again, I never would have done anything to let the roles be reversed. I never would have caused her to be in such a state.
I’m feeling lightheaded, my vision attempting to go black. I know I need to slow my breathing down, but I can’t.
I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.
My head is spinning as I try to separate my fears, the truth, and the multiple lies she has sprinkled into the confusing mix. I don’t know what to believe anymore, I only know that I’m scared. Like, seriously scared. My worst fear, a fear I never should have been made to have, was staring me right in the face. And the worst part was, I didn’t even know for sure if it was actually there, or just a lie.
I never knew what a panic attack felt like before this, but I do now.
Now I realize, it’s all because I met her.

Brainstorming:
• The setting is in the cold northern region - 1
• There’s war between tribes
• It is ruled my an emperor overseeing the whole area - 3
• No one can enter or exit unless all elements lift the border together - 2
• Covered by an impenetrable mist - 4
• A glacier that stops death - 9
• A soft aesthetic
• Extreme use of magic by tribal leaders
• 3 elements, 3 tribes (Fire, water, earth) - 4
• Usually just eat seafood, or traded goods
• Black bear as a symbol of death - 8
• Blacksmiths as the most important career -5
• They make thousands of weapons in the blacksmith workshops
• They trade clothes for a bit of the glacier
• They are constantly at war with the other realms
• No elections for leader, if anyone could challenge the emperor and win, they became owner of the crown -6
• They only want wealth
• They see the Sun once in a year -10
• Only the earth people can create plant life. - 7
(I used the points marked with numbers)

In the far north, lies the meltwater kingdom. Surrounded by an enchanted mist that creates a border for the kingdom, which is ruled by an emperor. Here, the emperors are not elected, or succeeded, the one mighty enough to challenge the emperor was always the next in line. To fight the emperor, or surrounding tribes during war, the people harnessed their emotions into magic. The people here could harness the power to generate fire, stop or create water, or create plant life on the frozen earth beneath them. The earth people were usually depended on for plants, the water people were depended on for seafood, and the people of fire were depended on to cook. Fire was always considered most important, as they could generate light, the kingdom only saw the Sun once a year, and needed light at the other times too. While the people of these elements had their jobs to use their powers to help the country to rise, blacksmiths were the most important and wealthy citizens due to their exceptional skill in making weapons for the kingdom to use during war. The kingdom relied heavily on beliefs for their wars, if the emperor dreamed of a black bear, no one would dare to take down the mist and step into war, as it was a sign of death. To stop the bad omen of the black bear, the emperor was given a bit of melted water from the glacier that was said to stop death.


Narrative:
I was one of the fire mages in Aerith, the rumoured kingdom in the far north that was told to yield magic. I was the daughter of the almighty emperor, I always wanted to be an emperor, but to do that I would be betraying and disarming my own father. I believed myself to weak to do that, so I had spent years training in combat since I was 5. Now, at the age of 15 I only have 3 years to go till I can challenge my father and win over his thrown. I loves Aerith a lot, it was my home. I was known widely throughout all tribes, sometimes as an enemy, otherwise I was known as a hero. Blacksmiths had been teaching me about the art of creating weapons, I had crafted my own in fire, water and wind. Helped by the most renowned and wealthy blacksmith in our kingdom. My weapon was unbreakable, but I was not allowed to go into was with the other tribes due to being 15. The elders usually share their wisdom on war and techniques of combat with me, and the generals of the fire army told me about how to perfectly yield a sword. My upbringing wasn’t too sophisticated, I lived in a tiny wooden hut with the army chief for earth, which is probably the reason I wasn’t allowed into tribal wars. On one side, I was a fire mage, on the second, I was adored by all the tribal leaders and the third reason was I was as close to the earth tribe chief as a daughter is to her father. I wasn’t allowed to ever see my father, only people challenging the emperor can go into his castle and come out. Otherwise, not even his family is allowed to see him, I don’t want to see him and he doesn’t even know if i’ve made it through the wars and the cold. Speaking of the cold, it was an amazing thing to be a fire mage here, we only saw the Sun lift once a year, the date changing every next year. Usually, we just woke up to the magnificent light of the sun spreading across the sky. The power of the sun also lifted the mystified border that protected us, causing thousands of other realms to come marching into our huge kingdom for battle, the one time all tribes united together.


Part 2
What kind of magic is used in your world? - In my character’s world, elemental magic is used. The three elements are fire, water and earth. The people with fire can point their fingers at something and light a fire easily. The people of water can start new rivers or stop the flowing of water and the people of earth can control and grow nature. This is all balanced and everyone has their own jobs to perform to thank the magic this land had given to them, which meant they had thousands of laws to abide.


How is the magic in the world used in the character’s everyday lives? What are the different abilities?
In the character’s every day life as a fire mage, she is called by other tribe leaders to start fires. She also has he job to light fire on all the sites of the blacksmiths so they have light, and start huge fires in the places requiring heat. The abilities are creating fire, radiating warmth for fire mages, the water mages can start rivers whenever someone is in need for water. The earth mages can grow plants to eat at specific farming areas.


What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments? The laws of the kingdom are
- Every child must take a test, if they pass, they shall be trained for becoming blacksmith immediately.
- Magic must only be used for the specific jobs (growing plants, cooking, catching seafood)
- Children who are too young to join the tribes in war must not use magic strictly, unless they have not yet found out their element
- Brutal use of magic during war is not permitted, it must be used safely.
- Wars can only be started for small disputes.


What is an important symbol of your world?
An important symbol of this realm was a glacier. In the snowy kingdom there were thousands of glaciers, but one that had water dripping out of it that people thought of as elixir that could stop death. If any bad omens were seen around or dreamed of, a drink of the melted ice from the glacier was given to the person who saw the omen, this was said to protect them from certain death. This glacier was worshipped, many other realms often tried to war the kingdom for their glacier that could stop death.


What is the origin of your magic?
The origin of the magic is quite mysterious. Ever since the ancestors inhabited the place, a mist appeared and covered their kingdom. The oldest ancestor suddenly was able to create fire, water and plants. The three children of hers got these powers separately, which lead to more magic in the societies. It was soon proven everyone had unique magic sourced my the mist, and the child of a fire mage could have powers of water too. It wasn't genetic, but a unique power gifted to the people who lived in the kingdom.


How can your world’s magic aid character development?
The magic is important for character development, as it shows her feelings towards other elements and really helps build her empathizing and fierce personality. The magic of fire inside her shows her warm and sometimes hot personality, and shows how she radiates light and is helpful to all elemental tribes and believes in using all her power for the greater good. While it is only a small part in her personality trait, her magic still defines some important characteristics she has.


How common is magic, and are all characters aware they possess it?
Magic is extremely common, those born outside the realm do not posses magic even if they were bought up in the kingdom. Every child recognizes their magic before the age of 10, unless they do not wish to and do not try. Even if they don't try, the tribal leaders can easily recognize the magic in them. People trained to be blacksmiths do not usually use magic, thus they might not be aware they posses it due to being cut off from others who might be able to recognize it.


How can you ensure the magic in your story is realistic, and is written as a normalized part of your world?
Hints of magic is shown all around the realm, the use of the elements of the real world (fire, water and earth) can show the magic as realistic. Although, it isn't really. It is actually unbelievable, people of other realms only hear stories about the ice land surrounded by mist. Some venture to find it, some think of it as stories. The magic however is real in this world. It is normalized in the world due to use of magic for their everyday chores etc.


What is a folk tale you have heard that involves magic, and how can you take inspiration from that tale?
I don’t remember the name, but I heard a tale that involved people of a place getting magic after service to the gods, which they could lose if they did not use the power wisely. I took inspiration from this, by using the ‘only people of a specific place get the magical abilities’. They don’t lose their power, but will be prevented from using it and be jailed if they do not use their powers wisely, in my character’s realm.


What are the limitations of your world’s magic?
While characters can use magic to create fire, water and plants, none of those are magic. They are merely things created by magic. So if it was cold, the fire created by a fire mage would go away, even if it’s magic. No water mage was strong enough to stop a huge flood, and no person with ability to create and grow plants could ensure the plants didn’t die, unless they found an area with suitable conditions for growth. These are the only limitations.


How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)?
Magic in the kingdom is viewed as normal, but not exactly boring. How they see magic is the role they play in the society, for example, a person who trains people on magic control would see it as a fascinating part of their life while someone who does not use magic, and has been attacked by it might see it as a curse. Moreover, magic is a wide-used element in this realm and is normal, as all people born there have it.


Compared to our modern society, what do the characters do differently in your world, now that magic is incorporated?
Here, they wouldn’t use matches to light fire, glasses to drink water or even plant seeds to grow plants. All with the twist of a finger, they could do everything in this realm. The people with powers needed to only snap their fingers to assemble a fire, water or plants. They also have a different way of punishments for criminals, they do not execute, or hit. They don’t even jail- but they throw the criminal out of the kingdom. Straight into the unforgiving blizzards. And they cannot enter back, as they cannot penetrate the mist without three people of different elements.


Are there any sensations the characters feel when they are using magic? Describe these sensations using their five senses.
Fire mages would smell burnt coal, feel their blood rushing and feel their fingertips being extremely hot as they conjure a fire, water mages would feel a tingling sensation in their fingertips as they do anything, and would hear sounds of fountains. While earth mages would hear tweeting of birds and feel mud or soil on their hands as they pulled plants into the fields. Their tastes would change as per their power, and as per the situation too. They would not see anything but what they or doing, or else their magic wouldn’t work.


Describe the popular infrastructure in your world.
The blacksmith workshops are the most popular and well built infrastructure in this realm. People here are not trained to build or do anything of the sort, only some people who are able to nail together wood or tie a strong not are appointed as builders. People from other realms were welcomed in to re-build the king’s palace at a new area. The palaces were nice, but the structure and design of the blacksmith workshops were spacious, had good storage and a good feel while working. Making people want to visit these workshops more.


How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn)?
There are no schools, all children learn from their parents at a young age, and at the age of 10 there is a test taken by the elder. The test has questions on crafting and forging weapons, strategies of war and usage of magic. Anyone good at the war section was trained in combat in special training facilities, kids with good knowledge on weapons trained to be a blacksmith and anyone good at usage of magic was sent to the elders of their clan for knowledge on law, to become a future court member for the king.


What happens when magic gets out of control in your world?
When and if magic would get out of control, other elements would come and attempt to counter the magic. For example, if a water mage had set a huge flood upon the kingdom, an equally powerful mage of fire would evaporate it with a strong blast of heat. If the plants would grow too big, fire would burn them down. And if fire was out of control, water would have to set a huge rush of water upon the fire. The king did not do anything about these matters, this was left to the elders of the tribes.


What are some slang terms or other words used in your world that are related to magic?
Words related to magic that were most commonly used in this world are witchcraft, hex, jinx etc for magic that was dangerous of was out of control. People without real magic (those who were not born in the realm) who would pretend to do fake magic like card tricks, coin tricks or breaking the finger tricks, were called illusionists. For things that were seen as pleasant, locals used words such as alluring, enchanting. Those who could do magic, were called mages.


Does magic affect the government of your world? If so, how?
What are some noteworthy examples of problems (in your world) that characters solved with magic?
Magic does indeed affect the government of this realm. The government is made up of 3 powerful mages only. One fire, another water and the third on earth. This way, in problems, the elements could counter each other. Some problems in this world are uncontrollable floods, which would require the help of both fire and water. Another problem is disputes, sometimes the tribes fight so bad the government was sent by the king to resolve disputes. Where the clever governors used their knowledge and intelligence to solve problems.

Part 3
Hidden worlds:
I looked at the circle before me. Looking perfectly like a design against the bamboo forest, but it wasn’t. I slipped my hand carefully on top of it, taking care it didn’t go in. I pulled my hands back and folded them, my eyes shut as I walked head first into the portal that would take me to another world, the world where i’m meant to be. Where I always dreamed that I would journey true. And now my dream was going to come true, right behind the beautiful red circle.

As I looked back, I saw nothing but a forest of black trees. In front of me, a ruined city in front of me. Covered in candles, lit beautifully. They looked a bit haphazard, they weren’t in a line or pattern, they were just placed. I hovered my hand over the candle, but it wasn’t even warm. It was freezing cold, I felt a weird sense of eeriness and a chill up my spine. I touched the flame, as I did, I saw nothing but a white, empty space. This wasn’t the place I had dreamed of. I saw a beautiful place, full of magic, not this. As I finally zoned out of the emptiness, I saw a woman with a painted face standing before me, a spear in her hand. Her face contorted with rage. I watched as an army of people swarmed in a circle around me. One of the people raised their hand, finger pointed towards me. I saw a fire start around me, as the second hand raised, I was surrounded by… a cage of bones. As the third person raised their hand, I felt a searing pain in my chest, I couldn’t feel anything but numbness, I fell on my knees and closed my eyes. I was back on earth, in my world. Never again I would go in search of another place, I thought, as I slowly died.

Science fantasy:
“Hello”
“Where am I?”
“In a time travel machine”
Aisha looked around, confused. In front of her, there was no one. Yet, she could hear the cool, elegant voice of a woman in the spherical white ball kind of thing she was in. On a blank screen in front of her, she saw a number flash by, it was ‘1429’
She got surrounded by white fog, it smelled like frozen ice. She felt a cold air blow up her slim black bodysuit. Soon, she noticed two black lines on the sphere, soon a part of the time travel machine slide to the side. The steam blowed out into a desert. As she stepped out of the air conditioned time travel machine into the desert, she felt drops of sweat slide down the back of her head into the ground. She was barefoot on the extremely hot sand, her skin burning in the heat. She now regretted wearing a bodysuit while time travelling, but she hadn’t known she’d land up in a desert, so I guess that was fair. She didn’t have the slightest clue here to walk, but going somewhere was better than nothing. She turned right and started walking over the sandy dunes. She couldn’t see anything except sand, not a cactus, not even a camel. After walking for what felt like hours, she fell on the ground. Her eyes started closing slowly, she saw a bright colored thing in the distance , she couldn’t make out what it was. But her eyes closed too soon. As she opened them, well rested, she could see a man with a small beard and mustache, wearing a colorful turban in front of her. He was seated on an old fashioned carpet
“You have found me, tell me your 3 wishes” he whispered, his hands sparkling weirdly.
“”Can I… have anything?”
“Yes”
“Can you… destroy something?”
“I know what you want” he said, as his hands sparkled, his eyes closed. “It’s done”

Dystopian Fantasy:
At the feet of the dictator I lie. I watch his black robe fall down onto the ground before me, my heart pounding out of my chest and my whole body shivering with fear. A hundred, probably thousands of soldiers surrounding the room made of mirrors, all reflecting the cruel, unforgiving, half carved expression of pity on the dictator’s face as he looked down at me. He banged his stick down on the ground, as he slowly rose from his throne, still watching me, beady eyed like a hawk looking at every single move of its prey, which it will surely but slowly catch and kill. I did not know much about him, those that were ordered into his fortress never came back to tell the tale. Who know, maybe they’re enchanted? As said in rumours, this cruel man has magic on his fingertips. Power to control and destroy armies with a swish and flick of his fingers. Maybe that’s why one day he was able to take control of the whole town in less than a second. I could not help but silently weep tears, as I bowed down to him on my knees, on the glass floor of his palace.

I felt his stick pull my head up, I looked into his cold, greedy eyes.
“Up”
I quickly wiped my tears with the ragged cloth I was wearing, he looked disgusted. He lifted his finger, I saw all the soldiers vanish with a trace of purple smoke.
“You, shall be sent back to the village” he whispered, with a hint of disappointment on his face.
“Why?” I asked, foolishly. Speaking to the dictator was extremely risky, and I did it.
“You are no use to me” he said, as he snapped his fingers. I found myself on my bed again, not in his palace.

༺═─── daily 17 ───═༻

I love this daily ooh

༺═── word count; 848 ──═༻

“I will beat you.”
It's just a faint murmur from a tall figure in a midnight-black coat, but Reyna tips her head and laughs scornfully.
“In what universe?” She nears the cloaked silhouette, pointing her sword at his throat with a smirk. They swallow as she leaves hold of the sword, digging it into the ground below her feet and tossing her hair to the side. "You will never beat me. That's the funny thing about this whole situation. The desperate once-king, now-wizard, future-prisoner having to work with me, all with the hopes of winning. There is no winning. This,“ She throws her arm to the side, smirking a second time, ”This is life, my friend. Life has no winners, or losers, only people who play the game.“
Her words hover in the air as if the universe is only digesting the truth as she spits it out with fury.
”You will never beat me, and I will never beat you. Because we are even. Because we are lost souls in a calamity that we never dreamt of.“

”I will force the earth to rise, just to see you fail.“
No matter what, Adam will not let go of the hook. It has stretched along his upper arm for so long, twining along his shoulder, that it has become part of him. A tool. A necessity. There is no universe where he can let go, just because some heir to the throne needs it to fulfil a prophecy.
Reyna glances sideways at her companion, a person in a large cloak that seems to be shuddering under her intense gaze. ”I will force your hook into your arm and pluck it out again to use, if you don't assist me.“
”It's part of me.“ He begs desperately, twining his arm around the hook and its metal pipe that has weighed him down for so long and has merged into his soul. ”I can't be without it.“
”So, join us.“ The heir declares, with a arm-sweeping motion at her and her accomplice. However, Adam's eyes still dart to her sword and the little piece of shadowed fabric that is sticking out of her pocket. ”Join us, because we can give you power and introduce a world where you're not judged, my friend."
Friend. He could get used to that, just maybe.
“I'm in.” He tells them, reaching out to shake hands with his new master.
“That's great for us, and great for you, too!”

“I will break the mountain that you claim is your home.”
Sitting in a darkened cave, underneath the light of a candle, two heirs plot against the current ruler. One reaches to pluck at his harp, sending a string of notes echoing around the stalactites and stalagmites, while the other plays with her sword. She flips it back and forth between her two palms.
“I will take the light that keeps you from being alone,” The male sings, before stopping abruptly to face Reyna. “Alright, I think I'm in. You say you have recruited two others?”
“Just to fulfil the prophecy. I have polished metal from a content prisoner, and ragged cloth from a discontent freeman.”
“You're taking this prophecy seriously, I presume.”
“Do I have any other choice otherwise?”
“I suppose not.” The Second Kingdom's heir stands up, offering a hand to the First's To-Be Ruler. “I'll meet with you and them at the palace.”
“Be there on time.” Reyna warns, but with a characteristic smirk.

A bedraggled crew, prepared to take over the world, sit on the doorstep of the Great Gate. One is pacing, one leaning against the seemingly everlasting wall, one is fingering with longing a flute, and the last is not yet here.
When the heir arrives, she bows to them all in turn, then ushers them in through the gate, pointing up at the castle perched on the hill.
“That,” she tells them with satisfaction, “Is where we shall aim for. Burst into the door, leave the rest to me.”
They all nod; happiness, sadness, and maliciousness combined in a single movement.
“Very well.” Reyna smirks, throwing her arms to the sky. “We shall proceed.”

A bedraggled crew, prepared to take over the world, burst through the barren door of a castle. They take out guards deftly and silently, with a surprising amount of agility and precision for a group of untalented and untrained performers, and they make their way to the throne with little to no difficulty. The heir to the Second Kingdom watches as his mutual reveals the cloth and the metal in her pocket, and she moves swiftly up to where the ruler sits.

They watch languidly, but their eyes widen when they see the combination of the two substances that could possibly throw them in battle.
“Where did you get those?”
“Where do you think?” Reyna cries with delight, leaning in to jingle them in the ruler's face.
“You're here for the throne. You can't get that without a battle.” They stand up, flexing their fingers.
She looks thrilled. “I will beat you.”

17th Daily SWC- From the perspective of Arin’s adopted brother, Lilo, age 18 (Characters from my story)

…..Word count 767…..



“Trust me.”
This is the last thing I heard before I was shot in the stomach and thrown into the river by my own best mate. Well. I thought he was my best mate. Turns out even the people closest to you can stab you in back. I can feel the frigid earth beneath me, my stomach throbbing. I have to get home. Mom will try to kill me at first, but after a bit she’ll be fixing me up and asking what happened. My sisters will have very different reactions. Kyda will most likely whack me with the closest object she can get her hand on, meanwhile Arin, little Arin, will be clinging to me and sobbing.
I haul myself onto my feet, squinting around at my surroundings. With a wave of relief I see realise that I’m only a block away from my home. I stumble through the alley, hand pressed against the hole left by the bullet. The bullet itself is actually still in there. In the very back of my mind I am worrying that I won’t make it. But I have to, for Arin. It should be right round this corner-
My heart halts, my eyes taking in the scene before me. Rubble is lying everywhere, dust and smoke clogging my sinuses and throat. Pain courses through me as a cough wracks my lungs. A body. Its moving, but only just. I fall to my knees and find my mother, body broken. Fear and grief attacks me, followed by repetitive stabs of guilt. If I had been here I could have helped. I could have tried…
“Lilo…” she breathes. I clasp her hand, staring down at her pained face. “Lilo, the girls-“ she breaks of, halted by a bought of coughing. “-they were taken, by-“ more coughing, “HER. They’re alive. You need to find a way to rescue them. But you can’t do it alone-“
Tears fall down my face, causing tracks down my dust coated skin. I’m still tormented by the thought that I could have saved her. But relief does linger at the news that my sisters, that little Arin is alive. But they are not in a desired place. They are with HER. By the time I get to them, they won’t be the girls I knew anymore. I pull my knees to my chest and sob.
A hand seals itself over my mouth, nails digging into my skin, a bag being forced on my head, leaving me blinded. My horse voice makes basically no sound. Fear smashes over me as I struggle against unseen hands. Pain rakes down my body as I am half carried, half dragged by my captors. I kick and try and scream, which only results in my throat searing with pain. I start to panic, quickly feeling myself go light headed as I us ethe little oxygen that I have in this sack. I fight to remain conscious, still weakly struggling against the person. Black.
……………………………………………………………………………………………
I open my eyes and quickly realise that I’m strapped to a bed. Bandages rap around my middle, the blood no longer pouring from the wound. Then my eyes fall on a woman who is staring at me. I glare hard at her as she approaches.
Then I take in the room around me, the posters on the walls, the maps with wool strung across it from pins. Pictures are scattered across the room and more people are in here than I thought. My blood boils at the sight of one of them. Its him. The “friend” who shot me. I strain against my bindings, yearning to reach him, to attack him. He’s a liar. A traitor. He stopped me getting back to my family, he stopped me saving them.
“Relax,” the woman says, a demanding tone to her voice. “Just let us explain-“
“NO!” I scream, anger and grief crushing me. “He SHOT me!” I start sobbing, “He shot me and now my family is gone.”
I hate myself for crying in front of them, for showing such weakness when these monsters are looking. But the tears keep coming, and I can’t stop them. When they finally run dry the woman speaks again.
“I told him to. Well, not to shoot you, but I told him to find anyway to slow you down, or even better stop you, as you’d never have come with us otherwise.” I look up at her with red rimmed eyes. “We had nothing to do with your loss.”
I look at my friend. He smiles sadly back. Then he speaks.
“Trust me.”