Weekly #4
PATHS TAKEN: 9-2, 5-2, 82-3, 6-4, 4-2, 102-1, 1-5, 3-1, 2-3, 7-3 | SABOTAGE RESULTS: 5- S;6- S;4- S;2- S;7- F, 9- F, 3- S;8- S;1- S | ENDING: good

Story:
Begin Story, keeping it around 100 words.
The white, foamy waves crashed against the jagged rocks. A rocky coastline stretched for miles on either side. Ocean mist swirled in the air, as she breathed the salty, tangy air. The sea had always been a place of solace for Mari—a place she could come to on overwhelming days. As she stood against the salty breeze and thundering waves, she let the ocean’s callings wash over her. A flurry of thoughts from the past few days escaped her, for the sea always had a way of bringing out the negative thoughts. Feeling as if a giant weight had been lifted over her, Mari sat down on the bare, rocky soil, gazing out at the horizon. An endless expanse of blue lay before her, for this was the ocean. This was the body she had lived by her entire life.
This was her home.
(144 words)
—
All along, the person you trusted most, your favorite cousin, is actually the very force you are working against. Write for 8 minutes in which the antagonist is actually part of the main character’s family.
Just then, a messenger ran up to Mari, startling her from her thoughts. He looked flustered and panting, as if he had been running,
“Princess!” he panted. “Come quick! There’s been an unexpected discovery—something about the enemies!”
Mari, sighed, as she was reminded once again of the reality of her life. She was a princess of the royal family, and as a princess, was obliged to follow her royal duties. Whatever that meant. Slowly, she got up and followed the messenger back to the castle. He seemed to be in a hurry, and Mari had to take long strides just to keep up with him.
What’s going on? She wondered. Why is everyone in such a hurry?
Mari was led into the palace, escorted by her guards. She was then taken into a wide, ornately decorated room. She knew this place—it was where members of the royal family gathered for meetings.
Meetings, Mari grumbled to herself, distastefully.
When Mari entered the room, it seemed as if everyone else had already arrived. Only, this meeting was nothing like she had imagined it to be. Everywhere she looked, family members were pacing around and arguing. They appeared to be distressed. She spotted her parents, the King and Queen, at the head of the room, talking in low whispers. Mari walked over to them and cleared her throat.
“What’s going on?” she pressed.
Her parents finally seemed to notice her standing there. Her mother was fidgeting with her fingers, the way she always did when she was stressed.
The King cleared his throat and called attention to everyone in the room. For once, the room was silent.
“First things first,” the King said. “Our spies have collected information on the enemy group, and we have found their leader.”
Everyone murmured grimly, leaving Mari confused. Did they know something she didn’t know?
“It has been quite shocking to us to hear that their leader—” He paused, as if it were too painful to go on. “Their leader is Toby.”
Everyone in the room gasped in distress. Some broke into tears, while others started arguing again.
Now, Mari understood why everyone was so upset. The leader of the very enemy group that had been plaguing the empire for years, was Toby—her cousin.
(377 words)
One of the characters doesn’t feel genuine, like they have ulterior motives. In 200 words, a character reveals one of their main motives is to gain something. How does this character reveal this and how do the other characters act?
Slowly, relatives began to shuffle out of the room. The shocking news of Toby’s betrayal had cast a sober mood over everyone in the room. After all, no one had suspected that Toby, a trusted member of the royal family, had been part of such an immense betrayal.
Mari’s parents remained grim and silent. As soon as everyone left, they began talking in hushed whispers, as if Mari were invisible.
She coughed, causing both of her parents to turn their heads. “What’s the public going to think once they find out?” Mari asked. She couldn’t imagine the public’s response to this betrayal as anything but outrage.
“We will tell them,” the King replies firmly. “The public deserves to know the truth.”
Mari suspected there was more to this—an ulterior motive her father had in mind. If there was anything she had learned from her diplomacy lessons, it was that one should always be willing to deceive, especially if it means protecting one’s own public image. Yes, it sounded treacherous, but that was the reality of politics. It was why she so despised her role as princess, knowing that someday, the throne would be hers.
Lie, after lie, after lie, Mari thought wretchedly. I hate politics.
And so, Mari proceeded out the room, with plans of heading to her favorite spot. The same spot she had been standing at before all of this mayhem had so rudely interrupted her day. She was walking down the elaborately carpeted hallways, when she heard shouting coming from the room. It was the room Mari had just left.
Pausing to press an ear to the wall, Mari listened intently.
Her father’s deep voice boomed. “It doesn’t matter!” he raged. “We’ll tell them what they want to hear!”
“But it isn’t right!” Mother argued. “Lying to the public? What happens if they find out?”
My father’s voice quieted. “It’s better to tell them something than to tell them nothing. We’ll tell them that we caught the leader, but we won’t tell them that it was Toby.”
After that, their voices quieted into inaudible whispers. Mari stood pressed against the wall, feeling sick.
(356 words)
Subgenres: choose one of the (fantasy) subgenres and include elements of the subgenre in the story. (I chose Urban Fantasy)
Feeling the need for fresh air, Mari burst through the front gates. She felt the sudden urge to do something—anything but sitting still. Specifically, Mari felt the urge to get away from the palace. An escape plan was already forming in her head.
I’ll go to the city, Mari thought determinedly. In truth, she had no idea what she was doing, but the idea of staying at the palace any longer made her want to scream. It’s towering, stone walls loomed forlornly over her, threateningly. Mari closed her eyes. So many bad memories had been made here; she just needed to escape.
And that was how she found herself ditching her guards and slipping through the side gates. Luckily, she was wearing an inconspicuous outfit of a hoodie and jeans. She slipped her hood over her and lowered her head, continuing in a brisk pace.
Just keep walking, Mari thought, as she hurried along the street on which the palace was located. Don’t look up.
Finally, Mari rounded the corner, letting the palace disappear behind her. She let out a sigh of relief, but her apprehension soon returned as she approached the waterbus station. She hoped no one would notice her.
As Mari boarded the waterbus, which ran on a network of canals to the city, she faced towards the window the entire time, in an attempt to obscure her face.
The waterbus approached the downtown district. Huge, gleaming buildings with clear glass panes added a modern, sparkling touch to the city. It was quite beautiful actually—much unlike her old, archaic castle, which had been in the family for generations. All around her, people milled about. But the most shocking part of the city was the fact that people were using their powers in public. Mari felt a twinge of jealousy. Members of the royal family were forbidden from using their magic in public, as fear it would create too much attention. You mustn't give the public a reason to scrutinize us, her father had once replied. It’s like willingly feeding the beast that will lead to your own demise. And that was that. End of discussion.
The downtown district was a diverse, magical place. Here, she saw people of all different races, skin tones, dress, and hairstyles. They were laughing with friends, chatting on smartphones, and shopping for goods. Once again, Mari felt a twinge of jealousy at their freedom, especially when compared to her own, restricted life.
(409 words)
Write for 5 minutes, in which a setting provides an aspect of safety and comfort to your character.
Still, Mari felt a sense of calm being in the bustling city. It was not quite the same as the sea, for there was much commotion and noise, but she felt a sense of belonging. After all, she blended in perfectly with the diverse crowd. There were at least five other people on the street who were wearing similar outfits. With this peace of mind, and confidence that she wouldn’t be noticed, Mari made her way down the sidewalk. Like everything else in downtown, it was gleaming, as if it had just been scrubbed. Then she noticed a sign that said “Self-Cleaning Sidewalk!” That sign made her smile. A magical sidewalk? Cool! Mari passed shops of every single type. Here in this city, one could find anything. Bookstores filled with flying books. Grocery stores with self-growing produce. Magical restaurants run by robots. She was amazed with this modern, innovative technology. It was so unlike her traditional, old-fashioned lifestyle—where magic was strictly prohibited and flashy, shiny tech was seen as improper. Mari let herself be enveloped by the crowd and the bustle of the city, for this was a magical place indeed.
(191 words)
You rub your eyes, but everything in your fantastical world is gone. You look around and wonder, was this all a dream? Write at least 200 words, where all the events in your story up to this point have all been a dream.
Suddenly, everything around her began to warp. Buildings twisted and blurred, creating a distorting image. The ground shook, as people began to disappear. Startled, Mari spun around. Everything around her was distorted. The sidewalk, which had once been so perfectly spotless, was now a patch of grass. What? The bookstore had turned into a rickety theater. All around her, the city began to fall out of focus. As Mari tried to take another step, she had the weird sensation of falling. Then everything went blank.
Mari?
Hello?
It’s time to get ready!
Distant voices floated around the room. Eyes fluttering open, Mari awoke to a brightly lit room. Light was streaming through the curtainless windows. Mari blinked a few times. This room…it was her room. She looked around at the pearly white furniture, with blue accent colors. Yep. This was definitely her room.
That’s when realization finally dawned on Mari. Living inside a palace and escaping to the city…it had all been a dream. She almost laughed at the stupidity of it. Me? A princess?
Mari’s mom peeked her head through the door. She frowned when she saw Mari still in bed. “Come on, Mari! You’re going to be late for school!”
School. It’s funny how much a single word can jolt you back to reality. A stiff, boring reality. Sighing, Mari climbed out of bed and began to get dressed. She trudged downstairs to grab a quick bite before heading out the door.
Here we go again.
(248 words)
Do you ever remember an event in the past, and wish you could experience it once again? For 250 words, write a scene in which your character feels a sudden burst of nostalgia, and this mood is carried through the rest of the story.
As Mari walked to school, she let the cool, salty, sea breeze wash over her. At least that was one thing that hadn’t changed from her dream. The tangy air evoked a sense of nostalgia in her; she held so many good memories of the sea. And because she had nothing else to do on her walk, she let the memories wash over her.
A younger Mari bounded across the sand. Her short legs struggled to keep up with her father. Laughing, she ran into his arms. Instead of hugging her back, her father picked Mari up and dunked her in the ocean. Mari emerged, sputtering and bubbling with laughter. She loved being in the ocean, and the cooling, soothing water. The rest of the day proceeded in a long string of water fights, sand castle-building, and lit up faces.
Mari felt a pang in her heart, looking back at all the good times. This younger Mari had been so carefree and joyful. What ever happened to her?
Of course, Mari knew why. That was before she had discovered her powers. Before a huge burden had been pressed on her. As an oracle, Mari had one of the rarest magical talents in all of Maricor. Yes, it was a gift, but in some ways it was also a curse. Having such a powerful ability meant living up to high expectations. Some days, Mari wished she could go back to being that innocent little girl on the beach, undisturbed and jovial. With a pang of regret, she realized that this would probably never be possible. Her life was not the same as it had been seven years ago, as much as she longed for it to be.
Still, the stubborn flame inside her, dared to disagree. But I can try, she thought determinedly. Part of her was not willing to let go of the past. Perhaps, Mari would never be the same, blithe girl. But she could learn to relax—to live—a little. And so, with newborn resolution, Mari resolved to make an effort. Letting the thoughts of her younger self flow through her mind, Mari continued on her walk with a new spring in her step.
(365 words)
Include elements of the genre fantasy, fairy tales, or myth into your writing.
As Mari continued her walk, the sprawling white campus soon came into view. Rolling green hills and a vast white building dotted the cliffside overlooking the sea. The Institute was an elite university located in Maricor, the capital city of the Navien Empire. As a child of commoners, Mari would not have been granted acceptance into this prestigious school if it hadn’t been for her exceptionally rare ability. Here, scholars from all around the Navien Empire gathered to study and master their rare abilities. The school seemed daunting at first, and Mari was hesitant to attend such an elite university. But as one of the few oracles of her generation, she felt obliged to go; choosing not to would have seemed selfish.
Mari walked through the front entrance and up the stone path, on her way to her first class—A History of Oracles. Personally, Mari thought this class was rather boring. Her instructor, Mr. Grayson talked in a slow, monotonous voice. Worse yet, this class was two hours long; apparently oracle-history was “rich and embedded with history.”
As Mari walked across the campus, she saw people practicing their powers—lighting flames in their hands or shapeshifting into different animals. Here at the Institute, the practice of magic was strongly encouraged, as it was the only time students got to practice their abilities. Outside of the Institute, developing students were strictly prohibited from using their powers in public, due to the unpredictable natures of these powers.
(244 words)
Check the Main Cabin to see your cabin’s ranking! Then, find the cabin with the opposite ranking of yours and ask them for a writing prompt!
Prompt: write something about losing something
Mari was just about to enter the classroom building when she realized she was missing something. Her textbook.
Great.
She had dropped her backpack off at the lockers, near the front gates.
Which meant…
It was all the way on the other side of the campus. Mari sighed, realizing that she had to go back. She retraced her steps all the way across the lawn to the student lockers. By now, it was already 9 o’clock; her first class had already started. Quickening her pace, Mari hurried inside the room. Like all the buildings at the Institute, this one was pristine and grand. It looked nothing like a locker room, with high, domed ceilings and “lockers” big enough to store five backpacks. The lockers themselves were laced with magic. Each locker was capable of forming a special connection with the owner, so that they opened upon request of the owner. No other person was capable of breaching this locker—even the telepaths, who were skilled at forming mental connections.
Mari stood in front of the colored glass door and focused. She was still trying to get used to opening her locker, especially because it required lots of mental strength. After a few tries, the door clicked. Mari snatched her bag eagerly and tore through the contents. There was her lunch, a few returned papers, some folders, and…
Wait—
There was nothing else. Panicking, Mari emptied her bag onto the ground, searching every nook for that missing textbook. It wasn’t there.
Now, Mari racked her brain, trying to think where she had last seen her textbook. She silently wished that it was just at home, and not lost.
That was a loan, too! she groaned internally. By now, it was 9:07 a.m. and Mari was late for class. She realized she had no choice but to show up with no textbook. Hopefully, Mr. Grayson wouldn’t be too mad.
I hope it isn’t lost, she thought grimly as she walked back up the hill.
(333 words)
The “Chekhov's Gun” principle is when all elements you incorporate serve a purpose later on. Incorporate this principle into your writing for at least 300 words.
As Mari trudged back up the hill, her eyes wandered to the students practicing on the grass. One of them was levitating apples with her mind.
Telekinesis, Mari thought. Yet the student’s power wasn't what stood out to her. She looked older, and taller than all of the other kids. In fact, she looked like an adult.
This struck Mari as odd. She was used to seeing students at the Institute who were much younger. The woman wasn’t wearing the traditional teachers’ uniform either, so Mari knew she wasn’t a teacher. Mari dismissed the thought. She had to get to class.
Mari burst through the classroom at exactly 9:12 a.m. Her professor, Mr. Grayson, looked up from his desk.
“Oh. You’re here.” He didn’t even acknowledge that Mari was late, he just motioned to a stack of worksheets on the desk. “Read pages 578 to 605, then answer the questions.”
Mari shifted nervously. “Actually, sir, I don’t have my book with me.”
Mr. Grayson simply blinked at her. “Oh?”
“I think I left it at home.” This was not entirely true. Mari was not exactly sure where she left it, but she figured Mr. Grayson did not need to know that.
He sighed. “Very well. Go to the Book Room to check out another one.”
Mari headed down the hall to the library, a vast room with walnut bookcases and velvet carpets. She greeted the librarian, a strict, middle-aged woman with hair knotted in an intricate bun, who directed Mari to the loan section. Mari then walked up to another desk, in a different wing of the library. To her surprise, it was the same woman from earlier—the one she’d seen on the lawn. The woman looked up from her work and smiled warmly. “Hello! How may I help you?”
Mari only stood, gaping. She finally blurted out, “Are you a student here?”
The woman raised her eyebrows. “Yes, I volunteer here.”
“I saw you on the lawn, practicing your magic this morning,” Mari blurted yet again. She instantly scolded herself. Shut up, Mari.
The woman sighed. “Yes, I get a lot of odd looks from many people, because I’m an adult student. I discovered my powers late, that’s all.”
Mari could tell this was a touchy subject for the woman. She instantly regretted mentioning the subject, and hurried to apologize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
The woman nodded in acknowledgement. Feeling the need to ease the tension, Mari volunteered, “My name’s Mari.”
This time, the woman smiled. “Nice to meet you, Mari. My name is Layla.”
Mari then proceeded to ask for the Oracle History textbook. Layla didn’t even get up from her seat. With a wave of her hands, she dislodged a book from the shelf and floated it over towards Mari. It landed with a thud in Mari’s hands. She stood, impressed. “Wow!”
Layla shrugged, though there was a proud glint in her eyes.
(492 words)
For the next fifteen minutes, work on one of your characters and describe what makes them so special. Explore both their motivations and fears, what drives them to do the things they do?
Layla’s demonstration left Mari thinking about her own powers. Layla was so controlled and calm, it made her envious. Why couldn’t she be excelling? As an oracle, she still struggled to read simple, near-future events. Her own instructor had even called her a “slow-learner” almost in a disdainful tone. Nearly every night, Mari woke up in a cold sweat from nightmares. Failure after failure after failure was enough to bring a person down. But not Mari.
Deep down, the stubborn side of Mari refused to give up. In fact, every discouragement only seemed to feed her inner flame, urging her to do better. After all, Mari liked to believe had been helping. Slowly, over the past few months, she was making progress—gaining better accuracy in her readings. Yes, it was slow progress, but with every vision, the more empowered she felt. She was an oracle—one of the few oracles of her generation. It’s a gift, she told herself firmly, whenever she felt like falling down the rabbit hole of despair. It’s a gift, she repeated, over and over to herself.
And slowly, Mari was beginning to believe it.
—
After a long day at school, Mari walked down to the port, where her parents were working. Her parents were both of lower status, being fish merchants. It made her angry whenever people ridiculed her at school, just because she was the daughter of commoners. “So what?” Mari snapped back. She was so sick of being seen as inferior to anyone else. Just because she wasn’t an elite didn’t make her any less special. Heck, I have the rarest talent in the entire Institute, Mari told herself. Why do I care about what those stuck-up elite kids think? And yet, Mari did care. Every single scornful look made Mari bubble with self-doubt and unease. What if she didn’t belong?
And so, her viewpoint constantly swung back and forth, between motivation and doubt. In the end however, strength took over. Seeing her parents work long hard hours, backs hunched over at fishing nets made her feel overwhelmingly sad. Mari was determined not to let herself follow the same, hard lifestyle. In the end, it was her parents that truly motivated her. I’ll make you proud, she thought, fiercely.
Letting the cool ocean breeze ruffle blow past her hair—uplifting her—Mari squared her shoulders with determination and let the crashing sounds of the ocean carry her.
(401 words)
In 500 words, nicely tie up loose ends and finish your story with a happy ending.
Mari approached the port, where merchants were setting up stalls for tomorrow’s weekly fish market. Remembering her promise to be cheerful, Mari remembered to put a spring in her step and a smile on her face. After all, nothing pleased her more than the merchant community she had grown up among. She recognized every face by name.
“Hello Dawson!” Mari called, waving.
The elderly man smiled, wrinkles forming around his eyes. “Hello, Mari! Working hard in school, eh?”
Mari nodded confidently. And then she realized, she did feel confident. Her cheerfulness was not only a mask, but an embodiment. Huh, Mari thought. Maybe I am more like my old self than I thought.
Walking up to her parents, she pulled her mother in a strong embrace. She smelled strongly of fish—the unfortunate side effect of working at the ports—but Mari didn’t mind. Fish reminded her of the ocean, and she had become somewhat immune to the pungent smell.
“Hi, Mari,” Mother said, tiredly. Mari could spot the fatigue in her body, with the dark circles around her eyes and her slow, sluggish movements. Mari felt a pang of sympathy for her mother. Rushing in to help, Mari forced her mother to sit and take a rest. “Let me take over. You look beat.”
Her mother gratefully accepted the break, and went to sit on a nearby crate. Meanwhile, Mari’s father was holding up considerably better. He was humming cheerfully as he untangled fishing nets. “Hello, Mari!” his big voice boomed. Mari grinned. Her father’s energized attitude was always refreshing.
She then set to work untangling nets with her father. She let the commotion of the port drown out in an energized buzz. The atmosphere, especially with the sea in the background, was always comforting to Mari. In a way, the port had become her home away from home. After Mari had helped out for a few hours, her parents urged her to go home.
“You’ve done enough, honey,” her mother said, taking over.
“Your mother is right,” her father said firmly.
After much insistent arguing, Mari was finally forced from her work. “Go home, now,” both of her parents chorused. Mari sighed, realizing it was no use. She trudged back along the port, squeezing through crowds of merchants and laborers.
“Goodbye, Dawson,” Mari called as she left the port.
On her walk home, Mari’s mind was a buzz of thoughts. The commotion of her life was finally starting to catch up to her, and Mari realized how tired she was. She remembered that morning, and the nostalgia she had felt when looking back at old memories. That morning had seemed so long ago.
Mari remembered meeting Layla, and being impressed by her powers. It made her doubt her own capability, but after much internal arguing back and forth, Mari had finally convinced herself that she was special.
As Mari stopped to look at the sunset, she was once again reminded by the serenity of the ocean. Streaks of pink and orange dotted the sky, and the sunlight cast a glow on the smooth sea. The ocean, at least, was one thing in Mari’s life that hadn’t changed. She remembered running along the shore, as a happy carefree girl. The ocean had been by her side for as long as she could remember.
Taking a deep breath, she let its soothing murmur and salty breeze encompass her.
(566 words)

Total Word Count: 4,126

Daily #28 7/27/2022 EDT

Word count: 326

It is apparent that I am part of Real-fi Restaurant. But, it comes as no surprise to anyone that Fairy Tales Trails is by far the best cabin there is. From the incredible leaders to the nearly immaculate storyline, everyone is begging to be in Fairy Tales. The faction idea for the word count groups isn't the most original idea there is, but having the campers change factions to fit the storyline, truly takes dedication on both ends. The leaders have obviously put in the time and effort to sustain this cabin to the best of their abilities.
But, we all know that the credit doesn't go to just the leaders alone. The campers also have put in a tremendous amount of work to do their part on the interactive storyline. The dedication that the campers of Fairy Tales have put in is inspiring and we should truly strive to be like them. They are so active and we can all applaud them for what they bring to the overall SWC experience. The top-notch quality of their writing and the sheer amount of writing they do is incredible and it will be known throughout SWC history.
All in all, Fairy Tales is the best cabin there is. The amazing leaders and the dedicated campers are above all else. The delicate storyline and original spins make this an interesting cabin to take part in. The new spin that takes familiar fairy tales with deep dark secrets to discover creates suspense, and a longing to want to know more. The cabin system the leaders have created is particular to this cabin alone, Fairy Tales Trails. It is truly fascinating to see how the leaders manipulate their campers so that they will land on top.

But all of the exaggerations aside, the Fairy Tales team has truly created an amazing space in which their campers can thrive and have to go with the flow in a really creative way.

Daily
7/28/2022
402 words

(Author’s Note: I believe Thriller is ultimately the superior cabin, in any SWC session, but everything I said here still applies and makes Fairy Tales an awesome cabin <3)

The superior cabin to all other cabins in the session of SWC July 2022 is Fairy Tales, formally known as the “Fairy-Tale Trails”, led by Vi, Sandy, and Hop. I will proceed to back this up with a gathering of evidence that speaks as to the reasons why Fairy Tales is superior.

Before we begin with the points, I must state that the ranking of cabins in the SWC Main Cabin has no effect on the superiority of said cabins. However, in regards to Fairy Tales’ activity levels and total points, I assert that Fairy Tales’ campers have been steadily working hard in order to climb these rankings.

Fairy Tales has an epic theme. It has multiple factions (word count groups), the exciting option of swapping factions in order to allow its campers to switch things up slightly, beautiful design work that accurately conveys the mood and tone of the storyline. In other evidence around the Fairy Tale Trails’ theme and storyline, the introduction in the description captures the reader’s attention and shows that Fairy Tales is a cabin that can be themed in many different, unique ways. I applaud the leaders for this ingenious theme.

The activity levels of Fairy Tales are relatively high and campers work hard to keep their cabin’s standing. They are consistently active and excited to participate in the storyline, in dailies and weeklies, etcetera. The matching profile pictures are also very well done and clearly set the Fairy Tales campers apart from other campers this session.

Finally, Fairy Tales has a multitude of projects dedicated to it, including Fairy Tales lore, a prompt generator, projects on camper reactions to SWC events, and much more. All of this gives Fairy Tales a welcoming and community-like atmosphere that I believe is not replicated quite like that in any other cabin.

Besides, I personally have led Fairy Tales before, and I have also led with Vi, and I can truthfully state that the two are incredible on their own and even more amazing together. Fairy Tales is just on another level, there’s no comparing it to any other cabin.

Hence, based on this evidence, we can come to the logical conclusion that Fairy Tales is the best cabin this session.

SWC DAILY #28! +600 POINTS FOR FAIRY TALES, 351 WORDS!
There are many reasons why Thriller is the most superior cabin in the July 2022 Scratch Writing Camp session. With it’s breathtaking imagery, amazing teamwork, suspiciously good strategies, and a great environment for growing writers, there is no doubt that Thriller is the best cabin. I will be presenting evidence to prove this unanimous point.
One reason why Thriller is the most superior cabin is because of their teamwork. If you take a quick peek inside of the spectacular cabin, you will see campers motivating each other, and leaders encouraging everyone to write to their fullest potential. The Thriller campers are very active and engaged in their cabin, and they work hard. They create amazing strategies with each other, which results in them climbing up the leaderboard.
Another reason why Thriller is the best cabin is because of their storyline. Thriller has a unique storyline that keeps their campers engaged and attentive. The storyline also helps increase activity levels, which then increases their total points. Their spectacular storyline is built off of riddles, reality, and rifts. With their original idea of making a dream like storyline, their campers will be engrossed in the story, and will want to know more by the end of the session. Their storyline also fits their genre, and gives off just the right vibe.
The last reason why Thriller is the best cabin is because they have so many great projects and resources for their campers to use. If you take another quick peek into the cabin, you will notice that there is a lot of projects that build on the storyline of the cabin and help the campers reach their writing goals. This is, then again another one of the reasons why Thriller rises up the leaderboard. They have personalized projects and things that you can use to help you excel as a growing writer. It can help the Thriller campers feel special and appreciated.
Overall, Thriller is an amazing cabin, and the way that it builds a supporting environment and storyline for campers makes it the best cabin in this Scratch Writing Camp session.

word war - july 27
words: 264
warred: @22shock
status: lost

In Elevenation, there is a street called Main Street. It is in Towntown and located at the intersection that nobody uses, where the streets that are known as Main Street and Jones Street cross. Nobody comes to Main Street anymore, not after strange things began happening around the now-empty road. Once, a child and a friend went down main street and came back with tales of an infinite Rift that seemed to nver end. Another time, a teenagera nd their adult parent came and left with a story of a ghost haunting an Arcade that was filled with neon lights, and after that a safety inspector expecting hallucinatory gases came back with a tale of a strange Maze filled with deities and shards of a tree. The inspector sent after them came back saying that the printing press would be invaded, but the real printing press was never broken into and never would be. Another inspector came by, and by this time the road was gaining a large following on the Internet. The inspector left with a tale of a Republic with magical simulations that you could open and use to enter another person’s world and alter events, and more and more people came and came. They left with tales of a Faire that had some mysterious vanishing gifts, a Forest with supernatural creatures, an amusement Park with a strange mystery, a Lodge with geodes, and much more. Then, disaster struck at the street known as Main Street- somebody went down the road at night and didn’t come back. The authorities then shut down

daily 28th • thriller awesomeness • 309 words

The Thriller Rift is the best SWC cabin. Why, you might ask? Well, Thriller's activities are carefully planned and the leaders are so friendly. The few times I've visited the cabin, there's so much joy, chaos, and laughs, like changing the name to “Sour Watermelon Candy” or adding a sign to the thumbnail saying “Down with Myth and their tyranny”.

It's obvious that the leaders (Birdi, Moonlit, and Kit) spent a long time organizing all these little funs or easter eggs. They all are super dedicated and are at the top of the leaderboard, meaning that their campers are motivated, not to mention there are interesting writing challenges for the campers to complete.

Now let's talk about each one of their leaders.

Birdi: Birdi is just amazing. The only word I could possibly think to describe her is… bright? She is always happy and can make you laugh. Plus she made Thriller cookies, Thriller wallpapers, Thriller banners and more Thriller merch. It's honestly so cool.

Moonlit: Moonlit is so fun to talk with. She knows how to wiggle her toes. She warred everyone at the second cabin wars. But she's awesome so I don't hate her for that. Also she was on every time the shields were down? That's dedication.

Kit: I admittedly did not talk to Kit much this session, but I remember all the fun we had in March. Plus the SWC parodies studio from last session. Kit you're amazing and you've worked so hard with Moonlit and Birdi to create an incredible cabin.

If I wasn't co-leading, it's a fact that I would put Thriller as a cabin preference in my camper sign up. The amazing leader team plus the interesting lore and storyline make for the perfect cabin, if I do say so myself.

In conclusion, Thriller is awesome and you should not censor it. (;>)

Weekly IV - 7.24.22 - 7.30.22
Historical Fiction Cabin || phoceanic
SusWC
Total word count: 3,301 / 1,300
Total writing minute count: 38+
Total reading, listening to music, relaxing, and creativity minute count: 50+
Points: 5,000

Intro: (106 / 100 words)
|| story begins ||

In the bright sunlight, Storm is forced to squint his eyes or keep his gaze down at the dull, gray sidewalk. His left arm rests on the park bench’s armrest as he taps his right foot aimlessly. The occasional breeze rustles his messy, ink-black hair and ripples his white t-shirt. Since it is not quite summer yet, the warm glow of sunlight on his face feels great and not too humid. One might even consider it to be “perfect weather.”
Minutes pass as the few clouds overhead continue to drift past, he remains there, not really waiting, but simply being subject to nature and its beauty.

Host room - 5 minutes; 99 words
|| flock of birds ||

Storm shields some of the sunlight with a flat hand above his forehead and looks up, where a flock of birds soars above. Through the glaring sunlight and his near-nonexistent knowledge of birds, he cannot tell what species they are. Already, the flock of birds — there were about ten of them in the flock — were disappearing into the distance, with their calls and squawks fading away as well.
Storm had to wonder what it was like, being able to see the world from that high, but only having a short point of view once they were on the ground.

Host room II (to @ceebee) - 271 words
|| 5 reasons for Scratch Team appreciation ||

Hello! For Scratch Writing Camp, I was asking to write five reasons why I appreciate a Scratch Team member.
1. You deal with a lot every day. I can only imagine getting thousands of messages every day and having to narrow them down to only the important and non-spam messages / comments.
2. You put forth your best effort into Scratch. You create projects and answer questions or comments to the best of your ability for new and veteran Scratchers alike, so as to create as little confusion as possible.
3. You are accepting. I know it is in the Scratch Community Guidelines to be accepting of everybody on Scratch, but it is easier to ignore that for some people. You, on the other hand, show and lead by example what it really means to be accepting of others, no matter their differences.
4. You are friendly. This one sounds simple, but it really is a reason why I appreciate Scratch Team members like you. I can imagine it can be frustrating or annoying to get the same, albeit genuine, questions every day. It’s Scratch Team members like you who strive to go out and be amicable in whatever you do.
5. You have to deal with the not-so-great things in Scratch. I’m sure you have to deal with reported comments, projects, profiles, et cetera, every day. For me, that would put a lot of stress on me, even if I only had to deal with it for a day. Even if you don’t have to deal with that kind of stuff, that’s why I still have a lot of appreciation for Scratch Team members like you.

Rooftop - 8 minutes; 160 words
|| family member is antagonist ||

Shockingly, as Storm returns his gaze forward, he finds his older brother standing in front of him.
“Hannibal?” Storm splutters, brows creasing in confusion.
Hannibal nods, his navy-blue cap dimming his face. “Hello, Storm.”
“I— I haven’t seen you in a while.” Storm’s hands trembled in nervousness; he wasn’t even sure why he was nervous. His older brother didn’t scare him anymore, right? Right?
“Almost four hundred days,” Hannibal agrees.
“Why?” Storm is almost afraid to know the answer.
“I killed your girlfriend,” he answers darkly.
Storm cannot figure out his brother’s tone, but it doesn’t matter too much as he leaps up from the chair and stares into his eyes. He was glad he had grown as much as he had, or else it wouldn’t be too intimidating.
“You did WHAT?!” Storm yelled in Hannibal’s face.
“I’m sorry. It’s called—”
Storm simply punched Hannibal in the gut. “You’re sorry? You wait all this time to say those two words?!”

Rooftop II (to @ghostdolphin) - 60 words
|| 10 reasons for appreciation ||

1. You never gave up when life threw insurmountable things at you
2. You taught me to only do things I love
3. You are patient
4. You are a great person to be around
5. You are funny
6. You learned from your mistakes
7. You are humble
8. You taught me to celebrate the small victories
9. You have the desire to win
10. You take the initiative

Dining hall - 5 minutes; 134 words
|| real-fi element ||

“Look, give me time to explain,” Hannibal tried, staggering backward and holding his stomach with an arm.
“It sounds like you don’t regret it. At all!” Storm shouts, no doubt causing a commotion for the nearby park-enjoyers.
“I do. I said that I am sorry,” Hannibal said, still wrenching from Storm’s hit.
Storm walked up to his staggering brother and slapped him hard across the face. “Don’t pretend I don’t know that she was killed by a drunk driver.”
“I’m not! I’m telling you it was an honest mistake!” Hannibal argued, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to win this argument.
“Honest? Come on, man. You could’ve told me earlier,” Storm hissed, shoving him, almost sending Hannibal to the ground. “You had your lie for more than a year before telling the truth.”

Bulletin board - 10 minutes; 192 words
|| incorporate cabin member in story ||

“Hey, hey, hey!” someone interjects, making both Storm and Hannibal turn towards the sound.
She looked a bit scared of the two brothers but continued attempting to calm the pair.
“Who are you?” Storm asked, his voice cooling a little.
“Call me Goose. May I ask what your names are?” She settled her hands beside her, calming herself down a bit.
“I’m Storm. This is my older brother Hannibal,” he explained.
“Those are wonderful names. It’s a pleasure to meet you two. I just don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Goose said, doing her best to smile.
“Too late for that,” the brothers said in unison. They exchanged quick glances before looking back at Goose.
“I have every reason to be upset, Goose. I appreciate you trying to intervene. It’s really personal, so…” Storm trailed off, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.
“Is there no way I can help?” Goose asked.
Storm sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’ve done enough already. Thank you.”
“Hit me again,” Hannibal dared, showing Goose that the conflict was not yet over. “Hit me all you want. You won’t get her back and you won’t forgive me.”

Throne room - 319/300 words
|| flashback ||

Storm was already lost. He saw the surroundings of his apartment, the kitchen table in front of him, his blank phone loosely in his hands, the dim light above him, his small room off to the right, and the kitchen appliances off to the left.
“You seem happy today, Storm,” his mother said, placing a comforting hand on his left shoulder.
He smiled. “Yeah. Things are going really well with Twilight.”
“I’m happy to hear that. How long have you been together? Six months?” she asked.
“Just about. Who’s keeping track?” Storm chuckled lightheartedly as his phone vibrated in his hand. “A call…?”
The name on his phone belonged to the mother of Twilight.
Storm stiffened and his heart accelerated to twice the speed. It’s nothing, he told himself, nothing to worry about.
“Hello? This is Storm.” He was already sweating. And it was winter.
“Storm! Oh my goodness! I’m so sorry… She— my daughter— she’s gone!”
“Gone?” Storm swallows a nervous breath. “As in, missing?”
“No!” Inconsolable crying can be heard from the other end. “There was a car accident and— she’s not with us anymore…”

Storm drops his phone. It clatters to the ground but remains on the line.
No.
This is not real.
Wake me up.
“Mother, please wake me up,” Storm demands.
“I’m sorry. I’m really, really, sorry.”
Being a single mother, she can relate to her son’s situation quite well.
“No!” he shouts, slamming his fists on the table. “NO!”
Storm’s mother goes down to her knees and hugs him warmly, whispering apologies and crying herself.
Storm’s tears fall freely, no sniffling, no resisting. “She was everything I ever wanted… What did I ever do to deserve this?”
He slowly picks up his phone on the ground, thanks Twilight’s mother, and hangs up.
Storm grimly taps the screen, and a picture of Twilight and him together on a park bench glows back at him.

Throne room II - 50 words
|| 5 most proud achievements ||
1. Writing something that I’m proud of (sea of slabs)
2. Composing something that I’m proud of (divergence)
3. Swimming 200 butterfly a total of 16 times in swim meets
4. Being in the 99.5th percentile in the world for rated chess puzzles
5. Being able to play some of Chopin’s most difficult etudes

Daily team room - 305 words
|| 10 minutes of speed writing ||
First 5 minutes:
Storm is suddenly brought back to the present. He is visibly disoriented, frustrated, and sorrowful.
“I don’t care if you don’t forgive me,” Hannibal said to a blank-eyed Storm.
“I never will. Why should I? You took a life. You spent the last year of your life in jail. You’re out of college too. Not because you have no money anymore, but because you took a life. I said it twice, and I’ll say it again. You took a life,” Storm said mournfully, his eyes nearly brimming with tears again.
Hannibal turned his back on him and started walking away. “I know. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness or your love. I know I messed up. I know I should’ve called you when I was in jail. I’m sorry that I’m not the perfect older brother you thought I was.”

Last 5 minutes:
Storm ran up and in front of Hannibal, stopping him in his tracks. “I don’t want your pity. Not from you.”
“Storm—”
Storm then swiftly interrupted Hannibal after one word. “Look, I don’t think you understand me. I don’t think you will ever understand me. You don’t know what it feels like to be the failure I am. Everything I tried, I failed at. Hobbies, sports, you name it. Until I met Twilight. She made me feel special. That I had a meaning in this meaningless world. You didn’t just take away the life of your younger brother’s girlfriend. You took away something much more, something intangible that cannot be fixed with some condolences. Now, you can continue to walk away, ignoring the fact that you took away more than a life, or you can realize what you have done.”
Hannibal shoved Storm out of his way in frustration. “I’ve been trying to apologize for the last ten minutes. What more can I do?!”

Basement - 395/250 words
|| nostalgia ||

As Goose looked onward, not intervening nor deserting the two, Storm steered Hannibal back to the wooden park bench he was at.
“Sit down,” Storm ordered. Hannibal did.
“Listen, man, whatever you—”
Interrupting Hannibal again, Storm continued, “I was a nobody. I had little friends. I wasn’t very close to anybody. You were in college. I dragged myself through my sophomore year of high school with my pathetic jokes and low self-esteem.
I will never forget the day that Twilight came to my locker, asking for my tutorship.”

“Me?” Storm asked, ludicrous. “You’re asking for my help?”
“You don’t have to accept my offer if you won’t want to,” Twilight answered, fidgeting with her backpack strap.
“No, no, I’m going to accept your offer,” Storm said, a smile crawling along his face. “Um, that’s a yes. Sorry that I’m being really vague right now.”
Twilight forced a chuckle. “It’s alright.”

“I— I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Storm,” Hannibal admitted.
Storm glared at him in return. “At first, it was just math. We only talked about math. I would throw in one of my occasional terrible jokes, she would fake laugh, and I would pretend that I was okay.
A year later, she told me. She told me the one thing I was both aspiring for and anxious for.”

“You know, I don’t even need your help that much anymore,” Twilight admitted.
“Oh, really?” Storm said in mock surprise. “You don’t need me anymore?”
Twilight barked a laugh, a genuine one, a smile blossoming on her. “I never said that. I don’t need your help. I still need you, though.”
“Aww, how nice of you. Now, why should I believe you?” Storm asked playfully, pretending to think.
“You really are one desperate person,” Twilight muttered, scoffing at him.
“Was that not what I looked like before I met you? All I wanted was to succeed in something because I’ve been a failure all my life.”
Twilight put an arm around him. “Storm. I was kidding. You’re a great person. Your jokes, your help, your leadership— You’re not a failure.”
Storm sighed. “I don’t want you to feel bad, but I would rather hear the truth than to hear those made-up words.”
“They’re not made-up. They’re real. Straight from here.” Twilight pointed to her heart. “I love you. More than you can ever imagine.”

Workshop room - 174 words
|| sci-fi incorporation ||

Storm stops talking for a moment; Goose takes advantage of this and politely interrupts him. “Storm!”
Noticing that it was Goose talking, he adjusts his speaking tone to be more gentle. “Yes?”
“I don’t know about Hannibal, but– how do I explain this? I saw the scene you were talking about. It was like I was there. Like time-travel almost, and I time-traveled to that scene you were explaining. Very odd, but very cool; it was almost as if it was one of my story ideas,” Goose explained in awe, using her hands to gesture vividly.
“Same here,” Hannibal said, nodding, “I saw the scene too. And I swear it wasn’t just my imagination. I saw both– the one where you first talked to Twilight, and the last one where you talked to her in our dining room.”
This makes Storm stop. “What? Y’all are trolling me. Distracting me. And I don’t appreciate it.”
“No! Look, I swear! If I could screen-record my brain’s footage, you would believe me,” Hannibal insists. Goose nods enthusiastically.

Other SWC rooms - 272/200 words
|| sense of belonging ||

“Listen!” Storm hissed. “I—”
“Storm,” Hannibal interrupted, putting a hand up. “Stop. Just for a moment. Hear me out. I'm sure you’re convinced that I will never understand how important she was to you. No offense or disrespect, this is why I don’t get super close to anyone. You get connected to them, and when they’re gone, you lose yourself too. No disrespect, I swear. For the billionth time, I know I made a mistake. I’m sorry. I should’ve gotten more jail time. I have almost no money now, but money can’t buy happiness, right?” He took a short moment to collect himself. “It was the first time I drank. And you can bet my life that that’ll be the last. I got desperate. Like any twenty-one-year-old is in college. My friends got my stupid brain to take that swig. I was dumb enough to convince myself that I could drive home still.”
Looking at the ground, he continued, “Admittedly, it was more than a swig. I just couldn’t take one. It was late and I drove home. Or at least tried to. Now I have no money, no friends, and I’m out of college. I ruined my younger brother, I’m living on minimum wage, and I don’t know if I can see my mother again.”
Storm was speechless.
“I only went to the party to fit in, Storm. You know how we’re ‘different,’ from where we’re from. I needed that sense of belonging; I’m sure you know what that is. I’m sorry, man. Don’t forgive me. If there was a way to reverse it, I would, any day of the week.”

Boring rooms - 295/200 words
|| transported into other world ||

Storm was just beginning to process his older brother’s words when he got up from the park bench and attempted to leave for the second time. He took a tentative step towards Hannibal, who was quickly walking away. Oddly, when his foot hit the ground, everything flashed in a blur around him and disappeared.
Wait, a dream? he wondered.
That hope quickly vanished as his surroundings appeared around him. It was not the park.
He was placed on a balcony overlooking some steep, snow-capped mountains. The air was cooler, and it bit on his exposed skin. Turning around, he notices that the balcony belongs to an apartment eerily similar to his own. The door to the balcony was closed, and the windows looking in was tinted. He was trapped somewhere he didn’t know.
Storm’s heart began to hammer and he hopelessly peered through the dim window. A screeching call forced him to turn around with a jolt, and soon enough, he was face-to-face with a … bird?
Storm muttered some choice four-letter words and said, “This is one crazy dream.”
The bird tilted its head and hopped next to him. In a flash, a human appeared — someone who looked way too close to his brother.
After saying more four-letter words and admitting, “I want to throw up.”
“Please don’t,” the mysterious figure said. “I don’t feel like cleaning this balcony. Also, may I ask, who are you?”
“My name is Storm. I don’t know how I got here and I want to go home,” Storm pleaded.
“Storm? Well, nice to meet you, I guess. That sounds like an Air Constituent name, but I would’ve known you by now.”
“What?” Storm looked at him in utter confusion.
“You’re new here,” Buzzard realized, “Incredible. Welcome to Elementum.”

Boring rooms II - 529/500
|| story end ||

“No!” Storm yelled. “Can I go back to Earth?”
“Sorry, sorry. I should explain,” Buzzard said, adjusting his sky-blue cap before resting his hands in his gray sweatshirt with a bird design in the center. Despite his choice of wearing a sweatshirt, he wore sea-blue shorts that had a familiar design to Storm. “You are in a parallel world right now. Here, the year is 8836, and Earth dissolved into nothingness due to climate change several millennia ago. So, the Founders took some humans with them and moved here. At first, Elementum wasn’t perfect. My younger brother, Phoenix, and I sought to fix the problem to make the continent less of a dystopia and more of a utopia. Incredibly long story short, there was a fight and I lost him. However, the remaining Ambassadors decided to finally change Elementum for the better, and here I am.”
Soon thereafter, Storm was whisked away once again, except he couldn’t move or talk. Just listen.
“This is a Visual Flashback. Don’t worry, I’m still here,” Buzzard explained calmly.

Phoenix cried out in pain as feathers ripped from his body fell to the ground and exposed his flesh. Blood trickled nearly everywhere imaginable.
“Phoenix!” Buzzard cried. “Don’t transform! You won’t be able to handle it!” He was aching but was in a better condition than Phoenix was.
Phoenix just yelled in agony, writhing on the ground.
Buzzard glanced from the dead Ambassadors on the ground beside his younger brother to the imprisoned Ambassadors against the wall. “See?” he told the locked-up Ambassadors. “Is this what Elementum is all about? Isn’t it supposed to be better than Earth?”
The government building had its roof dismantled, and the walls barely stood up on their own. Calling it a mess would give it an injustice.

Storm was back on the balcony. Buzzard stood in front of him, displaying Phoenix’s contorted bird body in Storm’s vision.
“It was entirely possible to live forever on this continent. It comes with such irony that Phoenix couldn’t be reborn in reincarnation,” Buzzard explained. “Somehow, after Hurricane revoked Immortality from everyone, I was still left with it. I realized that it was because he wanted me to live forever with the grief of my dead brother on my back.”
“Wait a second—” Storm realized.
“Yes. I’m Hannibal in this parallel universe, and Phoenix is you.” Buzzard removed the image of Phoenix’s phoenix from Storm’s vision.
“I’m dead,” Storm said.
“I looked through your parallel universe, and I saw that something unfortunate happened to you a year ago. I’m sorry. But that’s why I’m here. I brought you here so I could tell you that yelling at everyone you love isn’t going to change the past. I had to learn that lesson, too.” Buzzard looks at Storm apologetically. “Phoenix was closer than a brother to me, and I understand how Twilight was close to you.”
Storm was having trouble keeping up.
“I want you to take two things away from this,” Buzzard continued. “First, my name is Buzzard. Second, you can’t fret about the past when you’re too busy screwing it up in the present. Sorry for taking your time, Storm. Goodbye.”

(accidental post avhgfvbnhgf, i accidentally posted on my alt, pls ignore)

weekly 4 done for thriller! 3377 words (i think)

PATHS TAKEN: 4-2, 1-3, 5-3, 2-1, 7-2, 102-1, 81-1, 3-1, 6-2, 9-1 | SABOTAGE RESULTS: 9- S;7- F, 1- S;4- S;6- F, 8- S;5- S;2- S;3- F | ENDING: neutral

certificate proof: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/717617605/

Begin a story, any way you like, but keep it close to 100 words.

The mountain view had always been amazing, but today it was especially striking. The green meadows below shimmered with dew, the clouds in the sky had moved from blocking the sun, and the sun was finally shining. The heat warmed her back, and she sat down on a rocky ledge, eating a pack of chips. “A new day,” she told herself. “One that doesn't show rain.” She had been overjoyed to see the sun that morning after a week or so of heavy rain. After packing up her old tent, she started hiking up, taking a break every few minutes. She was raised to do this. - 106 words

You look around and wonder, is this all a dream? Write at least 200 words, where all the events in your world up to this point have been a dream.

Today was a good day as she had made some progress up the mountain. She was tired, of course, and wanted to stop every few minutes. The heat felt like carrying the sun on her back. But to test her skills, she ran for a few meters and nearly collapsed. Even though walking in the rain had been a pain, the sun was much more exhausting now that she was used to the cold. Glad that it was night, she set up her tent in a small but sturdy area, studied the stars for a moment and dozed off, still fully dressed and not in her sleeping bag.
I woke up.
Wait. What.
I?
Glancing down at my familiar pyjamas and taking in my surroundings, I was shocked. I felt like a cold bucket of water had been dumped on my head.
Was that a dream?
No. It felt so clearly real. I was her.
But I don't know her name.
I shivered in confusion and fear, sliding off my bed. My cat was meowing at the door, begging to be let in.
I acted for the whole day, pretending that this strange this didn't happen to me.
But my thoughts kept coming back.
Was that a dream? - 208 words

(my sabotage was to stop working on the weekly and read something for 10 minutes)

For this activity, you will write for 5 minutes, incorporating features of Dystopian, Sci-fi or Thriller into your writing.

Was that a dream?
Was that a dream?
Around and around went the thoughts. I was scared that it would happen again that night.
At 8 pm sharp, I climbed into bed and threw my bed sheets over me, trying not to drift off to sleep. But soon enough I did.
I opened my eyes. Green was around me.
What?
In the distance came a loud roar and I quickly followed my instincts, deciding to dive into a bush. The branches pricked my face and I closed my eyes, wishing to be out of this thing. It didn't work.
Of course, it doesn't, I thought to myself bitterly. Not until I wake up.
I rocked myself back and forth, trying to think.
A strange question struck me.
Why am I still me?
In the other dream, I was a different person. Someone I didn't know the name of.
Weird.
My gut told me to peek outside, and when I did I saw a terrifying sight.
A dinosaur - 167 words (I wrote so slow sob)

(my sabotage was to write a list of ten awesome things about a person who has impacted your life and give it to them, I wrote this on a piece of paper so no proof. it was 31 words)

In these 200 words, a character reveals that attention is one of their main motives. How does your character explain themselves or justify their behaviour?

A dinosaur was 3 meters away from my face. I stood there, frozen with horror, as it slowly turned. Before seeing my face, the dinosaur suddenly disappeared. I gasped as a voice said from my left, “Finally. Someone who realises what I do. ”
Her.
It was her.
The hiking kid.
The one with fiery red hair, hiker books, a purple backpack and green camouflage clothes.
I turned, hoping to see someone else, but who I saw was definitely her. Her eyebrows arched.
“Welcome to the time of dinosaurs. Before we begin, I should mention that I made this place and you should thank me for doing this.” Her chest puffed out in pride and her voice had a boastful tone to it. I nodded.
“Now do you have a problem with that?”
I could tell that one of her motives was attention. She craved attention.
“But-” I started. I couldn't stand any boasters.
“Good,” she replied, not waiting for me to finish. “You should pay as much attention to me as I need, by the way. I haven't talked to anyone in over 3000 years.”
“3000 years?” I sputtered.
“Yes. I'm powerful to have survived through all of that, don't you think?”
“If you say so.” - 206 words

(sabotage was to take a 15 min nap or do nothing for 15 min, I took a nap)

Write 300 words where the narrator breaks the fourth wall for a short amount of time.

Now, reader, if you're reading my story right now, you're probably confused. Let me tell you something. I was confused too, so we're on the same road.
I walked along the pathway of stones with her. She was chattering the whole time as I rolled my eyes and yawned. How did she have so much energy?
Looking out for dinosaurs, I heard her say,
“Did you know that I created the world?”
I burst into laughter, somehow shocked and amused at the same time.
“You're kidding.”
As I met her ice-cold eyes, I realised.
She wasn't kidding.
“Are you a god or something?”
She growled.
“No. Stupid humans and their theories. They don't pay any attention to me. I should be worldwide famous. But the father doesn't let me do that. Pah!”
Something felt weird about that sentence.
I shrugged it off. You should too.
Don't you think she boasts a lot? She's grumpy too. Must be from all those years not talking.
I looked up. The sun was nearly down.
“Shouldn't we sleep soon?”
She huffed, muttering under her breath. I caught something like this - why is it her?
I can't survive without sleep. How can she?
Or can I?
Was I an alien or something?
Do you think I'm an alien?
Why is she not talking to me?
Around and around the questions went.
“Is this some sort of dreamscape?” I asked, hoping to get an answer.
“The father won't let me tell you.”
Then I caught it.
“The father? Who's the father?”
“None of your business.”
I felt sleepy.
“Can we lie down? I need to rest.”
“Fine.”
As my back hit the grass, I wondered about all the strange things today.
There hadn't been any more dinosaurs in sight, so I decided to fall asleep, trusting that she would keep me safe.
Black overwhelmed me. I fell.
Now I have one last question for you.
Do you think that was a dream? - 326 words

(my sabotage was to stop working on the weekly and do something creative for 15 minutes. I did a doodle)

write as fast as you can for 5 minutes, take a 5-minute break and write fast again for 5 minutes, you can edit your writing later.

First 5 min sprint: (this is edited)
I woke up in bed. Of course. Now I was sure of something. That was a dream. Standing up and looking at my mirror, I noticed something wrong. I had fiery red hair. The same as the hiker girl.
Confusedly, my brain started to run wild. How?
For a few minutes, I was on my bed, clutching my head and groaning.
As my brain adjusted I remembered a few things.
One, I did have red hair.
Two, I love hiking.
Three, one of my main motives was attention.
I sat up in bed, dazed. Was the person in my dream a copy of me?
Why hadn't I connected the dots earlier?
I didn't know I was so annoying, with all the boasting.
Well, I thought to myself sarcastically, this dream sure taught me a lesson.
But why would I have weird dreams like that? Plus, I don't have powers. the girl in my dreams made a dinosaur disappear.
I immediately wanted to know more.
Pulling myself to the pillow, I grabbed my soft toy and hugged it, trying to sleep and dream.
I needed more information. - 186 words, I suck at speed typing

For my 5 minute break, I added to my doodle from earlier

second 5 min sprint: (this is also edited)
I was falling.
Everything was black.
Just as I opened my eyes, everything spun.
And spun.
And spun.
The dizziness was nothing like I had ever felt before.
It finally stopped, and I fell to the ground, closing my eyes and trying to calm my mind.
When I could think again, I opened my eyes.
I looked down at the ground.
Wait, there was… no ground.
I was kneeling on nothing.
Standing up, I looked around.
What I saw was unbelievable.
I saw a swirl of black and blue. I saw a few small glowing spots of yellow. I saw a white and purple thing spread out across and under me.
“Welcome to the multiverse. You wanted to be here, didn't you?” a voice startled me.
It was me.
My clone.
“Yeah, I'm your clone.”
“Can you… read my mind?” I asked, shocked.
“In the multiverse, I can.”
“But… this is a galaxy.”
“Humans. Again. You see, the galaxy is the multiverse.”
She furrowed her brow.
“Well, what are we going to do here?”
“You wanted answers. So I'm giving answers.”
Seeing the look on my face she added, “That's - 190 words

(my sabotage was to look at abstract art or listen to music for 10 minutes. I did both)

for 250 words, your character feels a sudden burst of nostalgia.

”That's… not what I was expecting.“ she shuddered.
”My brain?“
”Yeah…“ she reached forward and tapped on my head lightly.
That simple movement brought back an army of memories. A wave of nostalgia hit me, and I smiled as my brain scanned through the memories. Some were simple, like my father lightly tapping on my head and laughing, or my cat waking me up by batting my forehead, and others were more in-depth.
This brought a bubbly, yet melancholy feeling into my mind.
”Hello?“
A voice broke through my thoughts.
”Yeah?“ I said only half listening. I was in good spirits.
”Are you listening?“
I shook my head absentmindedly and grinned at her. She sighed.
”Should've never done that,“ she muttered under her breath.
A sudden faint cry came into my ears. She jumped up, tugging me along as she raced through the galaxy.
”Why are you panicking?“
”The father.“
As we ran, my legs got tired. I began falling behind her, but she kept yelling at me for something. I don't remember. The happiness was too much.
”Did you know that nostalgia is stronger in this place? Well, it feels stronger,“ I babbled to myself.
At long last, she screeched to a stop.
A dark lump was in front of her.
”Father?“ she said. ”Father, answer me!“
The dark shape didn't talk.
”Why?“
The shape turned around and for a moment I was shocked.
He was my father.
My father, who d*ed a year ago.
Nostalgia stabbed me again, much stronger this time, and I started to cry like her.
Then he spoke.
”Finally. You're home at last.“ - 269 words

(sabotage: thank at least 3 people in swc for everything they do. I thanked Birdi (44 words), Moonlit (55 words) and Kit (55 words). Overall was 154 words)

Incorporate a character from your character's favourite fandom into your story. Write at least 300 words

”What do you mean?“ I asked, confused.
”This is our home.“ He waved his arms around.
”The multiverse?“
”No, child. The whole world.“
I stared at him silently.
It was her who spoke up.
”What he means is you're not human. You're… well, we don't have a name for it. That's why we look the same. He is our father. The father. The creator of many things. But then he was too drained, so he created me. I made most of the world. And now my powers are fading, so he sired you. You are the next creator of the universe. Why else would you think I have powers? Look, kid, you're getting yours soon. But for now…“
She snapped her fingers and I heard a small pop. In front of me suddenly appeared a small figure. One of my favourite fandom characters, Moon. I gasped, my mouth hanging open. She glanced swiftly up at me, probably reading my mind, and spread her wings out to fly. But before she could rise into the air, she snapped her fingers and Moon disappeared.
”Want another one?“ she asked me, amused. I snapped my mouth shut and shook my head, too embarrassed to respond. Despite my response, she snapped her fingers again. Out of the air came Sophie. She stumbled, being her clumsy self and looked around. Her face contained so many expressions I could hardly read them all: shock, amazement, anger, surprise, confusion, bewilderment and puzzlement. On her shoulder sat Iggy, who flew about as Sophie fell to her knees, probably feeling dizzy with fear. I laughed. Then she snapped her fingers again and Sophie, along with Iggy, was gone.
”See? Powers are fun.“
I nodded, suddenly overtaken by all the times I read and read and read about those characters.
”When am I going to get mine?“ I asked, with half a smile on my face.
”When you're ready. First, you need to be prepared.“ - 325 words

(sabotage was to come up with 5 ways to appreciate a scratch team member and send it to them, I did ceebee, 70 words)

write for 10 minutes with a prompt from a person in the cabin with an opposite ranking
prompt from Avacac12078: Mangoes are overflowing where you live

”What do you mean by prepared?“ I asked.
”Well, you need to see the real world more. See all the problems and how to solve them.“ She sighed. ”I had the energy to create the world, humans and give them ideas and creativity. But I can't solve all their problems.“
She checked her wristwatch and sighed.
”You must go now.“
She took my hand and walked to my right, leaving the father. A few minutes later, a black swirling oval thing that was floating came into sight.
”Step in there,“ she commanded me. ”You'll go back to earth.“
I obeyed her, stepped in, and felt the same dizzying rush as when I arrived. Closing my eyes, I sank into the feeling, letting it carry back.
I awoke.
And all day, I searched for problems. Problems, problems and problems.
I saw sickness.
I saw hunger.
I saw fear.
I saw anger.
I knew what to fix.
Over a few days, I had normal dreams.
I was grateful for them.
Until one night, she came back.
The moment I fell asleep, I fell into something squishy. And soft.
Standing up, I saw that I landed in… mangoes.
Soft, squishy ones.
More mangoes were piled on the ground, covering everything.
I didn't notice her standing there until she talked.
”How did you know mangoes were my favourite fruit?“ I grinned.
She shook her head at me.
”No time for small talk. Snap your fingers.“
I obeyed, half-hoping nothing would happen. Mangoes suddenly fell out of the sky. They bonked my head before piling up with the other mangoes.
”Has my magic already developed?“ I asked, drawing in a sharp breath.
”Not really. This is the training ground, where you'll learn to manage your powers.“ she - 292 words

(my sabotage was to write a list of 5 achievements I'm proud of, +32 words)

”Not really. This is the training ground, where you'll learn to manage your powers,“ she said with a proud look on her face. ”I trained here. You're training here. Many others will train here, too.“
”But… mangoes?“ I asked with an amused look on my face.
She groaned. ”Let's get a move on.“
I glanced at her expression. She had… no expression.
”Our magic is not dangerous. Not at all. It can do anything, too,“ she started, ”Have you seen any problems so far?“
”Yes,“ I answered, holding out a sheet of paper. She grabbed it and took a look. ”Great.“
She snapped her fingers and suddenly all the mangoes disappeared. They turned into a flock of birds. Some were flying up high, some were perched on the sudden trees and most were sitting on the ground.
”We're using them as people.“
”Wait- why? Won't any get hurt?“
”No. Of course not, why do you even care about - 158 words

(sabotage was to eat something or drink water in small sips for 5 minutes, I drank water)

Write for 8 minutes, making sure a character the main character thought was dead, is actually alive

“No. Of course not, why do you even care about birds,” she scoffed.
“Of course, she had to, my darling,” came a voice from the corner. I spun, thinking that there would be another person like the father. But what I saw was hard for me to process.
“Wait, you're alive?” I gasped, barely shoving the words out of my mouth.
It was my mother.
The person who'd gone missing a year ago.
The person who I thought was dead.
“Of course she's alive. No parents of children like us die.” she mocked.
“Don't be hard on her, my girl.” My mother, no - the mother rushed over.
“Why didn't you introduce me to her earlier?” I asked her.
“Oh, it wasn't that important. She doesn't have powers, even though she's immortal.”
“I'm confused.”
And I was. This thing didn't make sense. I couldn't fit it inside my brain.
“Anyway, as I was saying, we'll use these birds as humans to train…” she trailed off like nothing ever happened.
I was still staring at the mother, taking in her every look. She looked much… less tired.
“Are you paying attention?” she elbowed me.
“What's your name? I can't keep thinking of you as she,” I said, annoyed.
“It's… Alexia. The same as - 211 words

Leave your story unresolved with a cliffhanger. Write 500 words to end your story.

”It's… Alexia. The same as yours.“
I frowned.
”There's nothing big about it, okay? I'm trying to teach you a lesson!“ Alexia screamed impatiently.
”With that note, I'll leave,“ the mother whispered to me.
She teleported away.
”Before we start, can I ask a few questions?“ I asked her.
”Fine,“ she groaned. ”But make it snappy.“
”Are you a clone of me?“
”No. You're a clone of me.“
I felt dizzy.
”What am I here for? Do I have a purpose?“
”You're here to make everything better.“
I didn't realise that I was on the ground. One of the birds flew by, twittering.
”Get up.“
As I got to my feet, I wanted to get out of this place.
”You can't get out. Not until you've finished training.“
”So, I'll stay asleep forever?“
”No. We don't sleep.“
”Okay…“
I needed to get out. I wanted to return to my normal life and forget about this. I didn't want to have powers.
”You can't,“ Alexia repeated. ”You can't without powers.“
”I guess I'll follow you then.“
She walked over and scooped up a bird. Unlike most birds, it didn't struggle.
”Our magic is simple. You just think of what you need. No verbal commands needed.“
The bird suddenly turned into a lion.
”It's better to use verbal commands at first though, otherwise your thoughts might run wild and you'd do a bunch of dangerous things. You're here to learn how to keep your thoughts in check.“
”Wait, didn't you say you didn't have any magic left?“
”I still need some to teach you, don't I?“
I sensed a spark of annoyance and decided not to ask further.
”Now, do me a favour and stop making your brain go wild.“
I closed my eyes, concentrated and cleared my head. Every time a random thought came in, I pushed it away and blocked it out.
”Good. Now concentrate on one thing.“
”What thing?“ I asked, opening one eye to see her.
”The first spell you'd like to do. It should be something small. Here, see if you can turn this bird into something.“ She handed me a bird and I took it wearily.
Clearing my head again, I concentrated on turning the bird bigger. I imagined the picture. It was quite amusing, thinking of a humongous bird.
”Snap your fingers.“
Snap!
I slowly opened my eyes. The bird was still standing on my hand, but it was growing increasingly heavy. By the time I had the sense to drop it, it was nearly as big as my head.
”Try to stop it and shrink it!“ she yelled.
I repeated the procedure, focusing on the bird as if it was the only thing on earth.
It shrank quickly.
Alexia's smile was ginormous.
”You're the first one in centuries!“
I ducked my head.
”Yeah. I guess so.“
”She doesn't need any more attention,“ she mumbled to herself. ”She can get them now. I know that she can do things with bigger objects…“
Finally, she looked up.
”Come on. Let's go."
Off we went, through the walls and into my uncertain future. - 516 words

Daily 28:357 words


Recently, Thriller had become one of our allies to our worst enemies. That is mainly because of the ongoing battle in the top bits of the leaderboard, but enemies and conflict aside, I have to admit, Thriller is a pretty cool cabin.

First of all, thriller, as a genre in general, is super interesting and such a fun thing to read. It is quite an alike horror in some ways, but it also has elements of adventure and is normally the type to leave you in suspense and excitement then have you sleeping with the lights on. It is full of chills yet adventurous and ambitious themes, and for a cabin to relate to all of those elements certainly makes an epic cabin.

second of all, their theme is spectacular, Aside from Thriller's legendary mascot Harry the capybara, the whole sense of the Rift and its storyline. I haven't looked around t lot, but I could see that the Rift has surprising and amazing elements to its storyline that completely immerses campers into becoming more into the whole theme and makes their SWC session experience a whole level better.

And, as we all know, it's not easy to be so close to being at the top of the leaderboard and only two spots away. thriller, with its amazing leaders, work so hard every single day of this month writing and taking part in so many activities to ensure that they will gain many points. This level of determination and dedication I must applaud as a Myth camper. Steadily every day they are motivated by the leaders to work hard and have so much fun along the way. I mean, Harry the capybara is by far an amazing cheerleader alongside Myth's mascot George the unicorn. Thriller has the best sense of humor and it's a joy to have them throw mangoes at our cabin every day and organise protests with the slogan: #STOPMYTHTYRANNY (Although we will never!!!!)

In conclusion, I say that Thriller is an overall impressive and awesome cabin and although we Mythians will never stop our tyranny, they will carry on until they reach the top.

༺═─── daily 28 ───═༻

writing about mystery

༺═── word count; 323 ──═༻

Today I present you an essay about Mystery! Mystery is such a cool cabin. I love the idea, the storyline and in-cabin points: as someone who has been stalking all fifteen cabins all session, I can say that Mystery's storyline looks amazing. I also genuinely adore the aesthetic they have going on, the pixel art works so well for thumbnails. The profile pictures as well – they look absolutely fabulous! You guys do not deserve to be so low down on the leader-board – despite us being enemies, your cabin is awesome and I definitely am supporting you guys from afar.

All personal opinions aside, it is now time for me to explain why Mystery in general is the best. Mystery as a genre may be one of my favourites: it is a wonderful, diverse genre with so many different paths you could tread down or explore during writing. Mystery is wonderful to read and keeps you at the edge of your seat, fixating on the plotline, which is exactly what all other genres strive for. Additionally, all other cabins tend to using elements of mystery in their storylines, which shows just how popular the genre is and how underappreciated Mystery (as a cabin) is.

Faer, Viv, Jia and Pendragon are all wonderful people and I'm sure they've done their best to make Mystery the wonderful cabin it is today, so all the campers sorted into Mystery are extremely lucky. I love the idea for the game and the gifting calendar: the amount of work you have all put into this cabin is astonishing and very admirable. I hope that Mystery turns out well overall this session and that everyone who is a part of it had a lot of fun this July, as you deserve it! Mystery is a cool, cool cabin (as I have already emphasised) and they have been great enemies and I'm sure they have been great allies for some, too.

Why is myth the best cabin? (I do not think so and I hate this daily but pointss) Here we go over some points on why myth is the best cabin (They're ALL fake, don't worry)
First of all, myth has got some amazing leaders and co-leaders who motivate campers and a wonderful mascot called George the Unicorn, and that mascot is wonderful because unicorns are wonderful, and George is supportive too.
The campers are hard working too, and the amount of weeklies and dailies and the time taken to complete them is absolutely dumbfounding and astonishing. Aaaand, they've got robin. (Robin is so dead nowadays though that's absolute brilliance).
Their storyline is really amazing too (I guess?) and they're crazy (A LOT) and I like crazy people! They all are really dedicated to Scratch Writing Camp too, and they're always trying their best (to make others suffer and then they laugh at them) to win!
More on their storyline, it sounds fun and captivating (I suppose so?) and everyone in myth is friendly and excited.
The myth campers are optimistic and dedicated, and they take part in activities too. Out of all the other cabins, they're the most optimistic and fun-to-be-with cabin.
Yes, myth is a lovely cabin, with wonderful leaders that motivate their cabin members, campers that work very hard towards Scratch Writing Camp and help their cabin score many points. The amount of weeklies they provide us is also very exceptional, and they're super fun to be with. Oh, and I forgot the co leaders. The co-leaders, Robin and Re, are also wonderful people, like moss. And also, their mascot, George the unicorn is wonderful because the idea of being or having a unicorn is wonderful, because unicorns are lovely creatures. They're a lovely cabin and they deserve second place, because first place is fantasy's (:<!

Weekly #4
PATHS TAKEN: 4-1, 5-1, 6-2, 102-2, 2-1, 1-3, 3-1, 9-1, 81-1, 7-2 | SABOTAGE RESULTS: 2- S;9- F, 4- S;7- F, 5- F, 3- S;1- F, 6- S;8- S | ENDING: neutral
Words: 2735
Thanks to @airfairy934 for my prompt ^^



I stare straight ahead, my panicked thoughts a whirlpool in my head. All I can hear is the thumping of a hundred heartbeats, a hundred streamlined breaths. And hundreds of eyes stare forwards at the stage, waiting, whatever is going to happen. Our sight fixated on the only small lit area, giving that small spotlighted stage a beguiling sense of importance, and us a… real sense of insignificance. We’re just the army. We have no power, no choice. We’re as good as slaves. Sure, we get paid, we get given the title of ‘civil servant’, but we pay without lives and our minds. No amount of money can give those back to us.


“We are here today to reveal a secret. Something that will change all of our lives. In our midst we have someone different. Someone… special. More important and more powerful, you could say, than myself, than any of my superiors.” The general smiles mysteriously, “Will Ella Castell - 8JH66D - please join me on the stage.” My heart sinks, and it beats on overdrive. They must have found out what I’ve done. This must be a trick, some cruel way to punish me. They’re going to kill me… But I have to play along. I put one foot in front of another as I feel all eyes looking right at me. I step up onto the stage. “You are the One.” Gasps echo throughout the dark chamber. “You are our leader, our deity. You are the One, the God. And I - I am the Announcer.” His lips curl into a twisted smile, “We, together, are your new Gods, citizens. We are your deities. Of course,” he laughs,” I am only the servant of Ms. Castell. Of course.” I freeze, realising what’s going on, what he has just said I am - a… a deity. I shake my head, a start to shake, realising what this all means. What a deity has to do: what I have to do. Then, I smile.


I made them think this. Oh, of course I did. The Announcer has to do what the One says, so good thing I read all the prophecies. Good thing I knew…

“The One has almighty power over all others
They kill and lie and they are right in doing so
They are discovered for their ‘crimes’
And must be forgiven
Or the prosecutor will die too.
Trust the One.”

I smile at the General, feeling his gaze flit around my face. Oh, he’s always been out to get me, to complete the collection of crimes against the people I love. And I guess he’s ruined - or ended - all of their lives now so I’m his last target. But I knew that all along and now I finally - finally, after years and years of waiting and wishing - have what I wanted. Revenge is what I’ve always wanted. “Thank you for revealing this, my servant.” I whisper, my lips so close to his ear I could almost bite through it. And as he turns to me, his eyes flash with recognition. He knows that murderous, angry look of revenge in my eyes. The horror in his delights me. I am going to give him a taste of his own medicine… show him what he did to me and my family.


All of a sudden, I hear the melancholy wails of a flock of crows, their wings beating. Panic courses through me as I realise, as everyone else must, that crows are a symbol of an imposter. And in the middle of a secret subterraneous complex… This isn’t good. The black mob curls and twists, straight towards me… And envelopes the general. They carry him away, his tortured screams merging with theirs. But as for me - I am unscathed, to my suprise. Before I realise: if the crows carry away imposters, then does that mean I’m not an imposter? Does that mean I really am a deity? I really am the One? Or is my life such a lie than even the crows believe me?



As I think, the darkness seems to thicken. Sure, it was already dark, but now… the brooding blackness seems to wither away to emptiness, writhing and curling like an army. Sentinel shadows lurk in amongst the pure, pitch black. As I concentrate, the darkness looks like crow feathers, as if my lie is so big that the crows will haunt me… Killing me wouldn’t be enough pain, they have to torture me instead.
The noise of the crows seems to rise to a crescendo before changing into the voice of the general laughing maniacally. The ground seems to shake as I hear the ominous grumble of thunder above. I look towards the crowd. All I can see is the whites of their eyes. Glowing, glimmering, glittering. Then changing to deep black as they start to chant in time to the screaming of the crows and the laughing of the general. The rumbling of the ground and the sky far above accompany it. And then, it all stops.
Deafening silence echoes, and the darkness and the silence are choking me. Claustrophobia sets in and I’m being strangled and constrained and I can’t breathe. I don’t know if I can see or hear or not… I don’t know anything. And then that stops too and my mind and body are completely numb.
But the silence is punctured by a ringing heartbeat. Echoing, a heartbeat like a drumbeat counting down to… something. And then a bell rings far above, with a crack of lightning. But then nothing.




This is as good as any moment, I guess, to tell you something that nobody else knows - I am the One. I pretend, I manipulate my thoughts, but I am. I’ve always known it, but my life is still just a web of lies…
And just a note: the general is my worst enemy. He killed everyone who cares. So don’t get too empathetic or his ghost might come for you.
Anyway, you might be sitting, reading this and thinking that I’m evil. Or mad. Or you might just be confused as to whether I’m the ‘hero’ or the ‘villain’ of the story. I’m neither, I’m just a minor character. Well, that’s what I tell myself. But really, I’m not a hero or villain - I’m a god. The god. So it depends: do you think the god in this story is making good things happen or bad things? What do you think? And is what you think honest or not..? Do you care what I think? Do you even trust me?
You’d be right not to. Honestly. No trick here. Because half of my thoughts have been fake. But I’ll tell the absolute, complete truth from now on, I promise you.
And as for the weird things that are going on… life is weird. The world is weird. But of course, you know that, unless you don’t even live in the same world as me. Nevertheless, I hope that someday, someplace, someone will find this record and will discover my story because someone has to know how messed up this organisation, this society, is. And people like the general and his bosses shouldn’t be allowed to do what they do to us, to mess up our brains and break us in every way possible and then dispose of us. I hope you can change it. Anyway -




The lightning cracks again, and I imagine the electric moonlight ripping the sky in two far, far above. Then I realise that all this anger and fear building up inside of me is because of the bosses, the generals… the government. It’s all because of them. They let this happen to the world. They let us destroy everything, and each other, then when things got out of control, they just imprisoned us all underground. That’s not how people would’ve imagined it 100 years ago when they tried to stop climate change. Nobody thought we’d be terrorised by the government down in our underground tunnels. It’s horrible. It’s torture. And it’s all the government’s fault.




And suddenly I can’t bear it. I run, I sprint towards the woods, my feet slapping against the packed earth. Of course, it’s not really a forest, but it’s the best we have. My heart is beating in time to my footsteps and my breathing, all accelerating as I panic and run. Just run. As fast as my body will let me. Until I stop. I can’t keep running and hiding and lying. I sit down, my legs unable to carry my weight, and close my eyes as I rock myself back and forth on the ground.
When I open my eyes, the first thing I see is green. Then I realise that you can’t see colours in the darkness. So I’m not in the darkness, which means I’m somewhere else. Funny thing is, everything looks the same except for the colour that has suddenly flooded into my world. A crisp blue sky, emerald trees… It’s all beautiful. So beautiful. My heart fills with a warmth I haven’t felt in who knows how long as I stare at the jewel-like landscape surrounding me. And as the colours fill my eyesight, emotions fill my heart - warmth and joy and nostalgia. I remember the colours, I almost forgot, but I remember. I don’t know what’s happened, but maybe… I’m in a different world.



But across from me…
It can’t be…
I see the heads of two girls, one with the same deep chestnut hair as me, and one with fiery curls. My sisters. But… The general killed them.
I guess not in this world. I guess here they’re still alive. And whatever sense of joy I thought I felt at seeing the colours is doubled, tripled, quadrupled, right in that instant. I suddenly understand what happiness is and that not seeing my family for all these years meant I hadn’t felt this purely beautiful feeling since their supposed death. I call out, “Soph… Nat…” as my smile widens. They turn their heads, their eyes wide with tears and excitement, before running towards me. Tears spill from my eyes as we laugh and hug together. Together.



After what feels like years worth of hugs are restored, I look up. All around me are people hugging and crying just like us. Sitting on a hill across from us sits a girl with dark hair braided across her shoulder clutching a smaller, blonde girl. “You scared me to death, Prim!” The older girl whispers. I recognise her as Katniss from my favourite book from what seems like decades ago… it takes all my strength not to call out in excitement, but I tap my sisters’ arms, pointing. They grin. All around me are families, friends and lovers reunited - characters from all sorts of stories, and just ordinary people like me who might have their own story one day. I relax, lying back on the soft moss. I sigh as I survey everyone around. Everyone seems so happy, yet behind every tear-filled eye is the ghost of trauma. You can tell by the way they smile, the way they cry and the way they sit, that nobody here has had this sort of happiness for a very long time. I reach over for Sophie’s hand, and stroke my hand through Nat’s red hair. I glance over at Katniss and Prim, and see them smiling back at me with recognition. Of course - Katniss knows what it’s like to lose a sister. Well, two in my case.
I look around, just checking if the general is around. Thankfully, he isn’t.
As I look back, I see Katniss in front of me. “Losing two sisters… Just one for me, and that almost destroyed me. You must be very strong. I’m sorry for what you had to go through.”
I smile, “To you too.” And we share a smile that only two people who have both lost and found their families can know.



I sit back down, smiling, absorbing the warmth of the sunlight into me, and realise how lucky I am right now. But despite this, everything that’s happened to me recently is weighing down my soul and I know that it might be a while until I can be really, truly happy again. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover, but this is worth it. Even if I had to live in fear for years, getting my sisters back might just be worth the price I had to pay. This love is more important than anything else, than any fear or pain or anger, I guess.
And I know why I’m here, in the field of storybook characters. Because I have my own story, because I’m the One and I’ve been through so much to get this happiness. And just because I’m a deity, it doesn’t mean my life is perfect and it doesn’t mean I’ve learnt to control anything yet. But this love beats the pain.



Unless the pain comes back.
Unless - there he is. The general. Smirking on the outside, his eyes telling a different, lonelier story. And my heart drops. All the happiness evaporates from my mind. Memories flash in my sisters’ eyes, horrible, traumatising memories. Memories of their deaths.
“He killed me.” I hear Sophie whisper, her voice trembling, almost non-existent. It was so frail. She shuddered looking at him, before looking at me pleadingly. As if I could help. But I can’t do anything, even if I am a deity.
His eyes meet mine, and a smile - though fear lurks behind it - creeps onto his lips. He beckons me over.
“I’m sorry, Ella. I’m so sorry for what I did. The idea, the concept of everlasting power… it was too much for me. I became addicted, obsessed with the thought, so much I couldn’t let go of the thought. It’s frightening, really… What the idea of being important can do to people - what it did to me… I’m a murderer, aren’t I? That’s not something I can forget easily. But, alas, it happened… And now we’re here, aren’t we. And you are the One, Ella, you really are. It’s your power, not mine, and that’s what I didn’t realise before. I’m so sorry. It’s not excusable or forgivable what I did, but everything’s fine now. It doesn’t matter what happened anymore because everyone else is happy now, aren’t you? You’re all reunited with the people you want to see, the people you mourned… But me? I’m just as miserable as ever. That loneliness was what made me do what I did. I just wish I could be with the people I miss. You’re the only person who can fulfil that wish, but I don’t expect you to: why would you? I killed your family and ruined your life.”

I nod, thinking of everything he did to me. Why should I do anything for him?
To forgive him. To stop him doing what he did again. To protect myself and my family.
So I close my eyes tight and wish. I imagine him smiling and hugging people, I imagine him finally content.

“Thank you, Ella, thank you so much.” He smiles, as two people appear either side of him. One man, tall and broad, tattooed from head to toe, the exact stereotypical image of someone you don’t want to mess with. He almost seemed to be growling. The other was a woman: tall and slim with long hair and red lips. Her expression is even more terrifying, that of a sly predator ready for a kill.They both look at him with their identical eyes. He stares back, and I suddenly see the resemblance between them all. I realise, in that sudden moment, what I have done in bringing them back. And I realise that I’ve made the worst mistake of my life.

“Kill her. Kill her and I become the One.” He commands. They reach towards my throat. “Kill her and I get her power.”

daily 28?
word count: 395
cabin used - thriller

If a weary and lonely traveler might stop to rest at the humble abode of Scratch Writing Camp, they may find interest in the leaderboards, which display which cabins currently bear the highest amount of points. When a simple weary traveler sets his eyes on these rankings, they may find themself thinking that the cabin known as Mythology is clearly the superior cabin. But this lonely traveler happens to be wrong. In this amazing argumentative article, I will present to you, the traveler, information on why if you look closer, Thriller is truly the better cabin, and will ultimately come out far above all others.
Sincerely, a real person
Now first of all, as you may notice very quickly, the Thriller cabin is in third place, far above many other cabins. Although it many not hold as many points as the Mythology {and Adventure} cabin above it, its campers are very dedicated to reclaiming their rightful place on top from Mythology's evil usurpers. Additionally, according to inside information I, being so special, received about point adding, most of the points which seem to so rightfully belong to the Mythology cabin are, in reality, just results of the blackmail and blasphemy of Mythology's evil leaders, and the schemes of it's even worse mascot, George the Unicorn. I have tried several times to warn the other cabins of this horrible truth, but nobody has yet listened to me, or maybe they are simply hiding the truth. One day, I will reveal it to all, and Thriller will rise back up!
Secondly, if the traveler looks yet a bit closer, they will see that Thriller's dedicated and well-meaning leaders are not the only ones helping the cabin rise to the top. They are actually being assisted by their benevolent mascot, Harry the Capybara, who is dedicated to helping out Thriller's campers and motivating them to write. On the other hand, Mythology has to resort to blackmail and schemes, and its mascot is far from well-meaning.
Now, with the facts presented to you, there is no use arguing. Clearly, Thriller is the better, cleaner, more motivated, and ultimately superior cabin. With its motivated campers who will continue to add points, and its kind, agile mascot who motivates campers and wins in mango fights against other mascots, it is obvious that in the end, Thriller will come out far on top.

daily :>
word count: 313
enemy cabin: {USUALLY CENSORED WORD INCOMING} /j ‘fOeTrY’

Now, picture this my friend. A human.. a heart broken- betrayed human, weeping near the cold, winter sidewalks of December. Now, they'd like to be in a warm space and let out their feelings to someone- just to make their heart ache lessen and heal. This person then spots a building.. a tall, welcoming building. That's SWC (stay with me here.) As they walk into the camp space, they have a choice to walk into any cabin they'd like. Any cabin. Now, which cabin would you choose if you were this person? Likely not some fan-fi revolutionary war, eh? gosh this is so painful ;-; Now, I would choose the fO- sorry, ‘POETRY lodge.’ Why do you ask? Well, the Poetry Lodge is indeed a quiet, special place that will always reside in a special part of all of our hearts. The poetry lodge is filled with many of the kindest scratchers on scratch, and they will help you with anything you need at free of cost. They are also very hardworking and passionate people, and are climbing up the leader board of SWC each day, doing a better job than any other cabin! To be a true camper at the fOeTrY Poetry Lodge, you must be tact-full, dedicated, have an indomitable spirit, and work well in groups/teams with your peers. The Poetry Cabin is an all in all “ideal” cabin.

Although only slightly above mediocre with their cabin points, the Poetry cabin WILL RISE- I'M SURE OF IT! The campers, co's, and leader of this cabin work with dignity and a good attitude that will reach them to great places. I'm sure the poetry cabin can rise up and defeat the others, and be victorious just as they had last year! ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY banana DEITY OF POETRY!!!

:teary eyes: /hj /lh passage

Alright. *dramatic inhale*

As you can see above, fOeTrY is indeed an amazing cabin. No seriously- the poetry cabin has done amazing things and has even more AMAZING LEADERS AND CAMPERS!! i think this is the moment i should add a ‘but’ to my on-going rant. BUTTTTT, fan-fi's better! ;D HAH, TAKE THAT! Now, as a debater, I am fully aware that wherever you may go in this world, you can't state anything without backing it up with proof so that it's more believable! But hey- I DOOOO have proof. For one thing, fan-fi's just simply more epikly EPIK than any other cabin because like- fan-fi. I mean- heyyy, we have this whole revolutionary war going on between two sides, a fully pre-organized PLOT LIST with DATES that lists everything that'll happen in our cabin. WITH SCHEDULES AND SHARP TIMINGSSSSS!!! Not just that, have you seen our main cabin thumbnail!? Without even knowing our plot or introduction, the thumbnail itself is super colorful and gives you this rush of adrenaline and excitement the moment you glance at it! Our setting is LITERALLY a UTOPIAN REPUBLIC with leaders, rebeling sides, characterized campers, and overall a fun almost game-like environment! And GUESS WHAT. We worship a god, we have a whole ‘nother universe set up JUST. FOR. OUR. CABIN. I mean, our most superior duck deity surely deserves it’s own paragraph!

The Fan-fi Duck Deity : The Fan-fi Duck Deity is indeed the most prestigious, OG rubber duck you'll ever find. We worship this beloved duck by changing its armor and attire every single day, alternating between platinum armor and cotton, or golden armor and the finest silk. The duck deity accepts all of our offerings, big or small, as long as it's from the heart, and had made a special top-secret aquaintanceship (i can't spell) with the mango lord not long ago! The epikly EPIK duck deity looks over us with its ducky charm, and gives us its blessings every time we procrastinate on dailies and weeklies and begin questioning life.

Don't mind me fan-girl squealing right now, but DID YOU KNOW THAT the EPIK Fan-fi Republic is led by PRESIDENT WARI (aka. Wari the Great aka. Wari the EPIK aka. Wari the most superior aka. Wari) !?!?! Yeah well, that immediately makes us super superior haha. DID YOU ALSO KNOW that the EPIKLY EPIK Fan-fi Republic was ALSO co-led by THE MOST SUPERIOR CO-LEADERS IN THE UNIVERSE- KATIE AND WILLOW ?? ??

Ya well, these leaders deserve their own paragraphs of recognition as well! (you go gurls :>)

WARI THE EPIKLY EPIK : President Wari, leader of the Fan-fi Republic's Government stands proudly, being effortlessly epikly epik as she always is. Sometimes her genius ideas make me question whether the duck deity should really be more superior than her.. slayyy queen <3

THE EPIK CO'S THAT SHALL DESTRUCT EVERY SINGLE ENEMY CABIN AND PROVE THAT FAN-FI IS SUPERIOR Katie and Willow, both the rebel leaders of the Fan-fi republic are two confident gals that are also always very effortlessly epikly epik and smart and cool and epikly epikly epikly epikly epikly epik (did I mention that they were epik yet?)<33

I think by now I have very thoroughly explained why the Fan-fi Republic is indeed more superior than our rival /lh fOetRy Foedge

I shall now take a short nap as writing about fOetRy was quite draining :<

Bye-Bye

July 28th Daily
Science-Fiction is one of the best camps in all of Scratch Writing Camp. First of all, the science fiction genre is a really cool one. I personally love mixes of fantasy and science fiction together, but science fiction by itself is also great. Futuristic stories and robots taking over the world are just really cool concepts, and I like that the genre is based on things that might happen. Moving on, the hacking ring has a beautiful aesthetic, with long green strings of code and glitchy images. It really adds mystery and a cool vibe to their cabin. The storyline also has a really cool and mysterious vibe. The story is based on a girl going missing, and a group of hackers trying to uncover what happened to her. Another interesting aspect of the science fiction cabin is that they are hostile neutrals with everyone. This would allow them to get warred by everyone, and while this may be overwhelming, it would also allow them to get lots and lots of points, which seems to have helped them since they are currently in 6th place. Something else that I found cool was all the in-cabin activities in Science Fiction. They “hack” by playing different games or doing activities, which helps them figure out the mystery. On a final note, I just want to appreciate the Science Fiction campers. They are hard workers that earn lots of points for their wonderful cabin. Writing lots of words to encourage their cabin, working hard on dailies and weeklies, and overall being hardworking and dedicated. These are the kinds of things that make Science Fiction stand out, and that put them in 6th place. Great job, and I hope you can continue to keep working and rise to the top. You all definitely deserve it. (303 words)

SWC Weekly Four
Total Word Count: 4062
Submission Code (screenshot found on the first slide of this project https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/717739177/)
PATHS TAKEN: 4-3, 3-1, 2-2, 1-3, 102-3, 7-6, 5-2, 82-3, 9-3, 6-2 | SABOTAGE RESULTS: 9- F, 3- F, 4- S;8- S;7- S;6- S;5- F, 2- S;1- S | ENDING: neutral
Begin a story with close to 100 words (92 words)
“Hey Kel, can I ask you a question really quickly?” Sunny asks me, peering over me from the top bunk, chuckling while they speak.
Hesitant, I respond, “What's up?” hoping that they don't notice my irrefutable doubt. I mean, you can’t really blame me. It’s Sunny that we’re talking about, not George Washington.
“So, you know how Alterson has that huge Farmers Market every other Weekend? Well, I’ve been wanting to go for a really long time and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me today.” Sunny explained rather confidently.
The Boring Rooms: Rec Room (775 words)
Extra Challenge: Send thanks to ST member - completed
I, on the other hand, was freaking out. “The Alterson Farmers Market? Are you crazy? I mean, it’s 13 miles away! We would have to take the bus to get there, and you know Carmen wouldn’t approve of that. Plus, we agreed to go fishing in the river with Finn today. It’s a no.”
“Oh come on! It’ll be fun. Just think of all the cool things we’ll see! And don’t worry about Finn, I already talked to her about it and she wants to come too! As long as we go tomorrow of course.” Sunny tries to reason with me. Ugh, I should have known that he’d ask Finn to come along. God, he probably already invited Arin and Shay too!
“Okay, but what about Carmen?” I ask him, knowing that being in a lot of trouble would be an understatement if she found out.
Sunny retorts “Carmen Shmarmen alright, who cares? It’s not like she’s gonna find out. Even if she does, what’s the worst that could happen?” they pause for a moment, think about what they’ve just said, probably regretting it. “You know what? Don’t answer that.”
“Sunny—” I start rejecting him before he cuts me off.
“Kel please, for me. And if not for me, for Finn, and Arin, and Shay. Don’t let us down.” They say, practically begging me to come along with them to the market.
I sigh, “You know what? Fine, I’ll go.” I tell Sunny, giving in to their pleading.
“Thank you so much! You won’t regret this, I promise!” Sunny thanks me, running across the hall to Finn and Shay’s room to tell them the good news.

“I cannot believe that we’re doing this.” I state to Arin as we sit down on the bus.
“Hey, don’t stress it. Just think of it as an adventure.” Arin says, trying to comfort me.
“An adventure?” I ask him, not understanding how he’s so calm about this. “We could be eating cold leftovers for a month if we get caught! An entire month! That’s over four weeks.”
Arin chuckles to himself, “I think I got that wrong on a test once.”
“What?” I asked him, not sure what he was talking about.
“That the average month was over four weeks. I answered five weeks instead. Man, second grade me could not count.” He remarked, as if that has to with anything.
“That’s not the point.” I exclaimed, quite frustrated that no one was even thinking about the consequences.
“Hey, lets quit talking about this, and talk about something else. For example, we’re already over half-way there! Man, time really does fly, huh?”
I take a deep breath and reply “Yeah, it really does.”

“Oh god, what do you think they’re even doing in there?” Shay asks, surprisingly concerned. Finn and Sunny look at each other and I know what’s going to happen next.
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Finn smirked as she and Sunny ducked under the yellow caution tape and ran into the white tent covering where the Alterson Farmers Market should be.
“Wait! Don’t go in there!” Arin yells running after them with Shay. Now it’s just me. I look up towards the sky, take a deep breath, and walk into the tent.
The second I walk in I am bombarded with clouds of smoke so thick that I can barely see my friends. Thankfully, no one else is here, or else I might’ve had a heart attack. I scrunch up my face in disgust, the smoke smells like puke. Speaking of puke, I might puke if I inhale this stuff for much longer, it’s seriously so hard to breathe in here.
“Kel! Get over here!” I hear Finn shouting at me.
“On my way!” I holler back, changing from a walk to a jog. “Did you guys find anything?” I ask them since I was a bit late to the party.
“No,” Sunny speaks while lightly coughing “but we’ve all agreed that we should exit out the other end just in case we do see anything. Oh, and we’re leaving right now so that we don’t contract pneumonia.”
“That seems smart, let’s go.” I agree with them, besides, this place doesn’t really sit right with me. I begin walking towards the exit with Finn and Shay because, of course, Finn and Sunny have already decided to run off. Suddenly, we hear a scream of bloody murder coming from just outside of the tent, it was Sunny. We begin to sprint over towards the tent’s barriers, and open the curtain to reveal something that sent chills all the way down my spine, another dimension.
Workshops: Fantasy: (394 words)
Extra Challenge: 5 achievements: Completed
“What do we do?” Shay frantically asks us, even though we have no clue either. God do I hope we can go back, this place is giving me major bad vibes. I mean everything about it is just… eerie. The grass was dead and patchy despite the dark clouds looming over us, the tent that let us in here was all tattered and rusted, and the birds made these awful, ear-piercing noises which were more like screams or cries for help. God, now thinking about it eeri doesn’t even begin to describe this place.
“Hey! Who are you?” A man-like creature shouts from the distance. They’d seem human if it didn’t look like they were turned inside out. He starts running towards us and we retreat back into the tent, especially since it’s now clear that he has a weapon of some sort. We started running towards the exit, but the tent was way more clouded with smoke, we could barely see each other. Still, we run forward trying to find the exit and hopefully get out of this god-forsaken hell hole.
“Guys, I found it!” I can hear Sunny shouting through the smog. We all run towards him, thankfully able to see the glimpse of the faint moonlight shining through the exit. Everyone’s out except for me, but when I begin to walk out I feel a tug on my leg and fall to the ground.
“Help me!” I practically yell from my place on the ground, I am not going back. I start kicking and trying to crawl away from his tight grasp on my ankle.
“Kel!” Arin yells, and starts trying to pull me away from him along with everyone else. The thing pulling me back, is not letting go, but losing his grip. I begin kicking as hard as I can and BAM I hit him right in the face, making him let go. I launched into the air, since my friends were still pulling when I let go and sweet victory, we were back. I looked down at my ankle and it was covered in blood, thankfully not mine though. I guess I was right about that thing, it was inside out.
Just as we’re all starting to catch our breaths, Sunny asks us a question that I couldn’t even begin to answer. “What in the hell was that?”
Bulletin Board: Rankings (178 words)
Extra Challenge: Read for 10 mins - completed
It’s almost 2:00 A.M. now which means that Carmen and everyone else has noticed that we’re missing. Time must pass slower in that other world because we were only in the for five to ten minutes max. Either way, we’re walking back to Rosemary’s which is going to be difficult considering the distance. God, I just want this day to end already. I mean, I’m tired, my ankle hurts, and we just experienced whatever that was. I don’t really want to think about it. But, what else can I do? The only person who would start a conversation right now is Sunny and he has his headphones in. Of course, it might not be the most cheerful conversation considering the circumstances, but I wouldn’t imagine anything else right now. Part of me wants to stop and camp out on the streets for the night, but we’re only 5 miles away at this point and the longer it takes to get back, the more trouble we’ll be in. I just can't wait to get back into bed.
Throne Room: Ghost Throne (303 words)
Extra Challenge: Eat or Drink water for 5 minutes - completed
As I’m walking, I start thinking back to this morning, before Sunny even mentioned the Farmer’s Market at all. I was up really early or rather stayed up really late either way it was past midnight. I remember just chilling in my bed, having a good time. I was writing thank you notes to the summer teachers since it’s already a week until actual school starts. I was especially thankful for Miss Katchadourian since she allowed me to sneak food into my room after-hours and she let me pet her cat, Toffee. Trust me, that is a big deal. Only me and Sunny are allowed and it’s awesome! Man, I hope I don’t give Toffee any bad vibes after this. At around 2:30 A.M. I was just finishing the note and all of a sudden I… felt something. It was just a huge offputting feeling that something was horribly wrong. And it wasn’t just that feeling you get when there’s a random sound or something falls over onto the floor in the middle of the night, this was very different. It felt as though something was going to happen that would change the course of my life well, forever. It felt like my life was at risk for major change or something poetic like that. Originally I thought that it was just the sleep deprivation, but now I’m really not so sure. I might be completely crazy when I say this, but maybe it was a sign or something. Maybe if I had listened to it none of this would've ever happened. I could’ve probably kept them from going if I tried hard enough. God, why do I always do this? Why don’t I just listen to my gut? Man, if only I had known back then, I would’ve never gone.
Dining Room: Table Three (Dystopian, Sci-fi, Thriller) 201 words
Extra Challenge: Do something creative for 15 mins - completed
Finally, after hours of walking we’ve made it back to Rosemary’s. I feel like I’m about to pass out or just flat out die on the spot. I look over to my left and see something terrible, there’s a man leaning against the fence posts, his head dripping with blood. At first, I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, it couldn’t be real.
I had to be hallucinating for all of the walking, but I still had to ask “Hey Sunny, do you see that man over there?”
Sunny replies “No, I don’t see anything. Has all the walking gotten to you?”
“Yeah, probably. I don’t see him anymore.” I lied, I can definitely still see him. You know, You’d think that I’ve already dealt with enough weird stuff today, but apparently not. Maybe that smoke was toxic or something, made us see some weird stuff. This is just too far to be real, right? It can’t be. We shouldn’t have gone into the tent, there was caution tape for christ’s sake! I just want to wake up from whatever nightmare I’m having right now. I mean, is that too much to ask? Honestly at this point, I’m not so sure.
Memory Book: Compiling Room (358 words)
My palms start sweating as we walk into the building. What bleak punishment are we going to receive after this? Definitely more than cold leftovers. Maybe we’ll be expelled! God knows that I can’t be expelled, my parents will kill me! My hands are trembling as we walk towards the front desk. Slowly and shaking, I press the bell on the desk and anxiously wait to be screamed at by god knows who, probably everyone. I mean, Miss Katchadourian will hate me after this, everyone will! God, if I didn’t know how to hold back my tears I would be bawling right now. Too bad I didn’t teach myself how to control my breathing, but thanks to circumstances I can blame that on dust. I hope they don’t ban us from going out on the weekends or ban us from going outside at all. God, I just want to run away. I don’t want to be here right now, it’s an embarrassing situation. Can’t I just leave? I want to leave. I need to leave. I can’t get in trouble. But, then I’ll get my friends in even more trouble for losing me. They wouldn’t abandon me, so I shouldn’t abandon them. Plus, I would get caught anyways and that would be way worse. It’s a stupid idea to run off, I’ve made that clear, but why do I want to do it so bad? What’s wrong with me? You know what? No. I’m not doing this, not right now. I need to just… not care. Just be chill, you know? It’s harder than it sounds but maybe if I just tell myself to cool off, I’ll do it. Fake it till you make it right? I don’t want to question everything right now, I’m too exhausted and distraught. It would be better to not think at all. Just don’t think. Well, that just doesn’t make sense, doesn’t? I mean how could I forget how to think? I should just—
“Rachel, get Carmen! The missing kids are here!” I can hear the woman behind the counter yell to someone in the backroom. I guess there’s no escaping now.
Daily Team Room: Lio (318 words)
Extra Challenge: Music for ten mins (completed)
This ended up being kinda inaccurate lol
since I can't put in photos (cuz my computer hates me and I wrote this on paper) here's a project I posted on my alt that has the photos I took:
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/717739177/
Library (562 words)
Extra Challenge: 5 reasons you appreciate (completed)
They brought in the cops at 6 in the morning. They brought the cops in, at 6 in the freaking morning! When will this hell end? Not even that! Right now we’re going to the police station in one of those cop vans that they put criminals in. We didn’t even do anything wrong! It was a missing persons report. It feels like we’ve been sitting here for hours, stuck in the miserable cold of early morning. I look down towards the floor and see Sunny laying there sound asleep, his thick blonde hair covering his face almost completely. I look to my right and see Arin half-asleep, trying to rest his head on his shoulder. Finally I look across from me to see Finn asleep laying in Shay’s lap. Shay is reading a book that she was able to smuggle onto the van. I couldn’t see it too well in the dark, but I was able to make out the title Crying in H Mart by Michelle Zauner. I wonder how they could be so calm in these circumstances. It could be true that they’re not and just pretending to be lulled, but you really can never know. All of a sudden, the van comes to a very abrupt stop and I know that we’ve arrived. Shay wakes up Finn, I wake up Sunny, and Arin wakes up himself. Steadily, we walk inside the huge office building, which I guess is supposed to be a police station. Once we get in, we’re brought inside an office room and the door is locked behind us so we can’t run out.
“So, why were you missing today?” The cop inquired.
“We wanted to go to the Alterson Farmers Market because it seemed, well fun. So, we hopped on the bus and went there. Then we found out it was closed off, so we went back to Rosemary’s and got lost. Really, we meant no harm.” Arin explained to the officer.
The cop asked us another question “Did you by chance go inside the closed off area?”
Sunny responds stuttering “Well, yeah but only for like, ten minutes..”
“Did you exit out the other side?” The cop asks, a very serious look on his face.
Sunny once again answers “Well yeah. but like I said only for like ten minutes.”
“Shoot.” the cop mutters underneath his breath and calls someone on the phone “Hey sharol? Yeah, it's like we thought, they went through. Alright, I’ll send them over.” he sighs and looks at us, exceptionally tired and exasperated. “Okay look, I know what you saw on the other end of that portal alright? The truth is I’m not a real cop, I just had to bring you here so that my boss wouldn’t get mad if some meddling humans saw what happened. Now, the thing is that we can’t let you out, now that you know. We aren’t going to kill you or nothing, you could be of use to us. You know what it’s like on Earth. You can sleep here for now, but in eight hours we’re sending you to Yang Berkuasa.”
“Wait!” I yell at the so-called cop. but he’s already left..
“I found the pillows and blankets.” Finn remarks, probably trying to make the best out of the situation. I on the other hand am convinced that we are doomed.
Gardens: Candy Land (211)
Extra Challenge:: Relax for 15, completed
It’s 3:00 p.m. now, and saying that I’m scared is quite the understatement. I'm the 5th one awake, so I’m kind of late to whatever party that seems to be happening right now.
“Kel, get over here!” Finn practically shouts at me.
“What?” I ask, not in the mood to get up right now.
“Sunny doesn’t believe us. He thinks he’s getting pranked or something.” Arin replies.
“What does that even mean?” I ask them, wondering if I was the one getting pranked.
“Sunny lost all of his memory before going into the tent. I think that maybe the smoke messed with his brain or something.” Finn reports. Oh Sunny, why must you always end up in situations like this? I walk over towards the group and sit down right next to Sunny who’s in the middle.
“Listen, I know that this seems wildly unbelievable, in fact I haven’t even began to process what happened, but you need to believe us. Maybe not now, but soon alright.” Sunny looks down into his lap and is about to say something when the “policemen” come into the room.
“Come with us, now. And no funny business alright? I don’t want to kill you like I did my ex-wife. We’re leaving now.”
Aviary: (83 words)
The drive to Yang Berkuasa isn’t too long, but it was very odd. On the way I saw a flock of birds, odd birds. Birds that should be alive. They all had thick, black feathers and bright yellow beaks, except for the ones without heads and the ones who’s feathers and/or beaks were covered in blood. I ignored it though, maybe the dust was just really weird and messed me up like it did to Sunny, or at least I hope so.
Leave the story unresolved with a cliffhanger (587 words)
We’re crossing the bridge to YB when all of a sudden something hit the van with a loud BANG and we fell off the bridge into the water. Thankfully the water was shallowish and we were all able to get out of the van. But man, my legs felt like they were on fire. We couldn’t quite reach the ledge of the river, it was too high up. To our delight, some people at YB were able to get us out. And it was odd, scary. They got us out with the water. One of the girls that came to help us was powerful, she could control the water with her mind! It was one of the greatest and most terrifying things I had ever seen in my life. She brought us up one by one, starting with the “cops'' and then going to Sunny, then Shay, then Arin, then me. Finn was the last one going up and while she was being brought up, something happened. Something awful. At peak height, a crow landed on top of the girl’s head, pulling her hair. It must have scared the girl so much that she lost control. She lost control of the water and she dropped Finn. I screamed. We all did, but no amount of screaming could’ve saved her. We all watched har fall back in, head first into the water, knocking her out. You could see the blood spread in the water, turning the section dark red. We all just stood there for a moment, before the water girl jumped in to attempt to save her. We all knew that Finn was already gone. When the girl got back up to land, we could see that Finn’s head got practically cut in half, her blood still pouring out everywhere. We looked away, not wanting to look at the horrific sight. How could this have happened? I didn’t realize it at first, but I was crying. Bawling. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were before any of this sci-fi magical stuff happened. That’s when I heard it. When I heard her, Finn. I knew it was impossible, for Finn to still be alive, but I couldn’t stand it not being true so I turned around and what do you know? It was her.
“Finn?” I stuttered in disbelief.
“You can… see me?” Finn looked at me shocked?
“What are you doing man?” Sunny looked at me, his eyes puffy.
“I’m talking to Finn, she’s right here!” I told them. How could they not have noticed? Then, they all started looking at me weird. Except for a man that I’ve just now noticed that was here.
“Kel… Finn’s dead.” Shay told me, as if I was a toddler or something.
“That is true, Kel. your friend is dead.” The unknown man told me.
“No, no. That can’t be true. I just saw her!” I practically shouted to them.
“And that is also true Kel,” the man said as he was taking a card out of his pocket. “Hi, I’m Mr. Carmel, and I’m the head director here at Yang berkuasa. You Kel, are going to be staying in Lodge 6, the paranormal. Sounds fun right? Well, let's not put our time to waste and go down there! I need to introduce you. Follow me!” Talk about being insensitive And I’m still confused, can I… see dead people? The answer is obviously no, right? Finn has to be alive, and I’m gonna prove it.

Fourth weekly

Code: PATHS TAKEN: 4-2, 2-2, 5-2, 1-3, 3-2, 101-4, 6-4, 7-5, 82-3, 9-1 | SABOTAGE RESULTS: 8- F, 2- F, 4- S;6- S;5- F, 1- S;9- F, 3- S;7- S | ENDING: neutral
Words: 2463
Writing:
Snow fell in flurries, coating the ground in a thick layer of icing.
Light glowed cheerily through the window, and if you pressed your face up against the glass, you could briefly see the tree, decked out in its finest, before the glass fogged over and the miracle was gone.
And not everyone who stopped to marvel at the cozy Christmas scene was human.
A small black cat, fur dark against the ground, jumped onto the windowsill, wanting in. But his family was in bed, and the door was locked.
He watched the tree, his little nose smushed up against the glass. His attention, his entire being, was focused on one little twinkling light.
He sat there for a good while, sitting so still he could’ve been mistaken for yet another Christmas decoration, the warm glow washing over his black pelt.

The cold remained, but the tree and all its twinkling lights were gone. Blinking, the little black cat felt the weight of snow upon his back, but it was not the not the clean, white snow of his dream. Instead, it was dirty and half-melted, forming an icy slush where it had been trod over by many pairs of feet.
Two icy-cold hands reached for the cat, stroking his damp fur.
“Morning, Ribbon,” said a boy, smiling at him. His freckled face was flushed, and his red hair had actual icicles in it.
The cat meowed and tried to wriggle away, but the boy caught hold of the tattered bow around his neck.
“Say, Ribbon, wanna come live with me? I bet you’d like it lots better than sleeping here in this alley. You could have milk and fish and whatever else you wanted. Momma, she loves cats, and she’d pamper you to death, just about.”
The black cat hissed at him.
Shrugging, the boy stood.
“All right then. But think about the offer, will you? It’s awfully tough to be a stray in this kind of weather.”
Ribbon made no reply, watching the boy balefully until he was out of sight.

He was sitting on the windowsill again, watching the twinkling lights.
Suddenly, one of the stockings, laden with treats, fell off the hook and into the fire that was dancing merrily in the hearth.
The cat was the only one who saw the stocking catch fire, the only one who watched as it spread slowly towards the tree.
The branches were soon aflame, the twinkling lights drowned out by the light of the fire.
It was no longer a cheery fire, keeping the house aglow with warmth, but a hungry one, seeking to consume and devour.
The furniture caught fire next, and soon all the cat could see were flames. Entranced, he didn’t move a muscle.
The family within slept on, undisturbed.
The cat snapped out of his trance and began yowling, hoping to wake his owners in time to save them, but the glass window in front of him and the crackle of the flames swallowed his warning cries.
He leaped down from the windowsill, circling the house, hoping to find a way in. But the doors were shut fast, and the windows were all closed tightly.
Still hopefully, he sat on the frozen doorstep and howled with all his might, but not a soul heard.
Finally, he gave up, hopping onto the windowsill again to see if his family had woken yet.
The flames had roared into the other rooms now, and the black cat’s sharp ears heard the wail of the baby as it woke, unable to breath in the choking smoke.
He felt sorry for the baby, even though it had annoyed him to no end.
He was also angry at the humans. Didn’t they know better than to invite fire into their homes? Every sensible animal knew fire was to be avoided at all costs.

The little black cat shook himself, shoving the memories aside.
He wandered the streets for a while, occasionally stopping to scratch at a door and meow plaintively to be let in. A few opened the door and gave him some scraps, but wouldn’t let him in.
The little black cat ate the scraps, but he still longed to enter the house and be warm for once. The cold had settled into his very bones, and no amount of fur could keep him warm.
He didn’t have the strength to go on, so he curled up in the snow, wriggling in as far as he could. It settled over him like a blanket, surprisingly warm.
He wanted a family, a home, good food. He wanted a place to call his own.
He was tired of living in the streets, as he had been since his family and their house burned down, becoming nothing but ashes in the wind.
The black cat decided he hated Christmas. It held nothing for him but cold and bad memories.
Sighing a little cat sigh, he settled into sleep, hoping to dream of a time when he had everything.
All he wanted was to have it back.

There was another thing about living on the streets.
The other cats.
A group of them surrounded him now.
The little cat eyed them, standing defensively over the bowl of scraps he’d just been given.
The cats advanced, hissing.
The black cat stood his ground, but he began to doubt. This group of cats practically ruled the city streets, living off of their stolen gains. All cats lived in fear of them, and those foolish enough not to were soon dealt with.
The little cat decided it would be better to give up his food than be torn into tiny pieces, so after one last hateful glare, he vanished to find a better place to be.

Dragging his paws through the snow, the black cat finally fell over. He could see the house right in front of him, but couldn’t bring himself to rise and walk those final few steps.
He closed his eyes, sure that this was the end.
Then footsteps crunched through the icy slush and stopped in front of him.
“Hey there. I’m Luka,” the girl said, scooping him up. He was too weak to protest, instead laying limply in her arms.
“Well, aren’t you a mess?” the girl said. “Let’s get you cleaned up a bit, huh?”
The house was warm, and the little cat recovered enough to lap a dish of milk. He looked around the room with wide eyes.
There were cozy chairs, perfect for napping on, scattered about the living room, and the tree had plenty of sparkling ornaments to play with.
There was a dog curled under the tree, but he was old and didn’t seem to be dangerous. The black cat eyed him suspiciously for a moment, then turned back to his milk. He could easily outrun the dog if he needed too.
The girl came back in, smiling.
“Hi, buddy! Are you feeling better now?”

The small black cat stayed for several days with the girl.
He felt better than he had in ages, his fur groomed and gleaming.
But there was a restless feeling, a feeling that this was not where he belonged.
He hopped up onto the windowsill, gazing out at the snow beyond.
Suddenly he stiffened.
There in the new-fallen snow were two cats.
One of them was part of the group that ruled over the city streets. The other was a young cat, hardly more than a kitten.
He watched as the older cat fought with the younger one.
Suddenly, in one fluid motion, he leaped down from the windowsill and went outside through the dog door.
The older cat snarled at him, momentarily distracted.
The small black cat flew at her with a scream of rage, his claws meeting fur.
The older cat reared back and began to scratch at him without mercy, but he had the satisfaction of seeing the younger cat flee to safety.
He wondered momentarily about his impulse to save the younger cat.
It wasn’t as though it benefited him to be beaten up by the older cat.
Finally, the dog came out and scared the cat away. The black cat followed him back inside, licking his wounds. There was a new nick in his ear, and the dirty bow around his neck had been torn away.
He began to wash himself, stroking his ears with one little black paw, then stretched and curled up into a small ball of fur.

He woke much later, and the house was still and quiet.
He jumped onto the couch, the soft fabric cool against his paws. He settled onto a nearby pillow and began playing with one of the tassels decorating it.
Moonlight streamed in from the window, illuminating the room in a soft glow. The little black cat yawned and stretched before leaping down to continue roaming the house. The carpet was soft, and the cold floor was a bit of a shock to his paws as he entered the kitchen. But even the chilly tiles were comforting, a reminder that whenever he wished, he could go back to sleep in a warm corner, and not have to worry about where his next meal was coming from.
He began to purr.

Luka smiled at the black cat, sitting tranquilly on her bed. “Guess what, Coal,” she said, bouncing onto her bed beside him. “I’ve been hired as a babysitter! Course, you won’t see much of me now, but it’s great news for me!”
She began stroking his back, and he purred gratefully, rolling over on his belly.
Luka laughed. “Silly cat. I’m not falling for that trick.”
The black cat blinked at her, a purr still vibrating in his throat.

The little cat began exploring outdoors more often as Luka was away more and more.
He was wandering the streets as he had done so often before when he saw someone he thought he’d never see again.
A lady was walking through the crowd. He couldn’t see much of her, and there was an unfamiliar burn scar across her face, but he still recognized her.
His old mistress.
Wriggling through the sea of people, he struggled to keep up with her. Several times, legs and feet blocked his view, and he thought he had lost her before she reappeared.
She went into a store, and he waited patiently outside, watching the door for what felt like a very long time. Rain began to fall from the skies, melting the snow and soaking his fur.
Still he waited.
Finally, his mistress emerged from the store, carrying heavy bags. He leaped forward, but there were more humans blocking his way.
Frustrated, he wove through them, trying desperately to follow her with his eyes.
She was so close, and yet so far.
Eventually, the streets began to clear as it began raining more heavily. The black cat caught up to his mistress, purring and rubbing against her legs.
“Well,” she said. “You’re a friendly one, aren’t you?”
He stared into her eyes, and watched as recognition spread across her face.
“You couldn’t be…Jasper?”
He purred in response, rubbing his little head against her harder.
Slowly, she smiled.

The little black cat entered through the dog door.
Luka looked up, smiling.
“Hi, Coal. Where have you been, huh? You’re all wet.”
The cat jumped onto her lap and licked her chin.
Luka stroked his soft fur.
“Hey, buddy,” she said.
He let her pet him for a little while, then wriggled back to the floor.
Luka glanced at him. “Going so soon?” she asked.
The little cat blinked in reply, then vanished around a corner.
Luka stared after him for a long moment.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d almost think he was saying goodbye,” she said.
The black cat roamed around the rest of the house one last time, bidding farewell. He batted the tassel of his favorite pillow, drank from his water bowl, and sniffed the dog. He raised his old head blearily and licked the cat’s face with his wet tongue, but for once the cat didn’t shy away, hissing.
The old dog really hadn’t been so bad, after all.
He looked around one last time before exiting through the dog door.
His mistress was waiting outside, watching as he bounded up to her, twining around her legs affectionately.
“You seem to have a good home here, Jasper,” she said, looking at the house. “You don’t have to come with me, you know. You can stay here. There isn’t much to come home to, not for me. The fire took everything. I've been living with my sister and her family, but I’m moving to an apartment of my own soon. It won't be very big, and it won’t have this lovely yard. You sure you want to come, Jasper?”
The black cat purred harder, staring into her eyes with adoration. He was saying as plainly as he could that his home was with her and no one else.
She smiled down at him, her fingertips brushing over his fur. He shivered with delight.
“You sound pretty certain, boy. You know, I thought you had been lost too when the fire came. But cats have nine lives, don’t they? I reckon you still had some to spare.”
She glanced over her shoulder one last time at the house he had left.
“It’s an awfully nice house,” she said quietly.
The little black cat walked ahead of her, meowing impatiently.
She turned to him.
“I nearly forgot, Jasper. It’s Christmas tomorrow. You’re the best Christmas present I could have.”
He flicked his tail.
They began walking together down the street, chatting like old friends, the cat’s tail high in the air.
The cat thought of all the people who had influenced his life. There was his family, and then the little boy with icicles in his hair, and Luka, and now his mistress. It had come around in a complete circle.
He thought of his old house, and that long-ago Christmas night. He thought of his days living in the streets under the oppression of the city cats.
He thought of how the red-headed boy’s fingers had felt–cold but gentle.
He thought of Luka, and her kind words. He thought of the old dog who didn’t mind when he snuggled against him for warmth.
He thought of how the cheery glow of fire could turn into a raging, hungry monster.
He thought of his mistress.
She stopped in front of a big building with many doors, and they climbed up a flight of stairs.
He could hardly wait to explore his new home, his real home, where he belonged.
“Here we are!” she announced cheerfully, and opened the door.
His eyes widened in surprise.

Main Cabin Daily 7/28
627 words

Ever since Scratch Writing Camp began, the cabins have been fighting over who’s the best. Over time they grew and changed, leading us to the fifteen cabins we have now, but the battle is still on. This half-a-decade feud never ends— but for this session of July 2022, it’s not a difficult question to answer. Thriller Cabin is easily the best cabin of the session. Now, I know that the Thriller antis may disagree, but there’s really no denying it.

First and foremost are the people spearheading the cabin’s success; Birdi, Moonlit, and Kit. As someone who has (co)led seven sessions, I know how hard it is to have an active and effective leading team— but this month I’ve seen all of them around camp constantly. Birdi balances leading with everything she does as a host. Moonlit is constantly adding points in the main cabin in addition to supporting her own. Kit is so encouraging toward all of the Thriller campers, keeping the cabin’s morale up. Despite Thriller being my own cabin’s enemy, I find myself impressed and I can’t help but root for them.

It’s also important to take into account Thriller’s theme, the Rift. It’s an astoundingly creative idea, with well-rounded supplemental activities that really add a lot to the cabin. The storyline is something that all of the campers can get interested in. Noting that the activities and sense of community in a cabin is what really makes the experience, I think we can say that the campers of Thriller have had a very enjoyable session and one to remember. What can really classify a cabin as the “best” if not by how the campers, the core of the cabin, went through their month?

In addition to this, Thriller utilized a cabin wars technique that’s difficult to pull off— I know that well because I, too, did it last year. It requires dedication, perseverance, and most of all, speed. They sent a whopping sixty-five wars total (I see you Moonlit), thirty-nine of which were in the second bout. In that same day, they received and completed ten wars from other cabins.

We also can’t overlook their success overall; they’ve spent most of camp in third or second place and stole Mythology’s first place for a short amount of time. Out of fifteen cabins, this is no easy feat. Their campers have been consistently active, adding words and points, and among their ranks are some very strong writers as well. All factors considered, they would easily have a shot at winning the session. Although winning isn’t what makes a cabin the “best”, it does showcase their strength and abilities.

Lastly, what makes Thriller the best cabin is the enjoyable rivalry they share with Myth. Cabin rivalries like these can be what makes a session so iconic; I know I’ll always remember July 2022 as the month that we fought to the death with Thriller. This competitiveness, and the switch we made with them from allies to enemies, is what allows me to write this essay about Thriller right now with more than double the word count that was required. I wouldn’t be half as excited about this session without the interaction between our two cabins.

All in all, Thriller July 2022 really is an incredible cabin. Although I’m cheering for Myth the whole way, I won’t be half mad if Thriller comes out on top at the end of the session. They’re kind and supportive of each other, impressively determined, and very formidable opponents. I’m proud to be their enemy and I’ll be even prouder when they slide into an unfulfilling second place.

Love you all— good luck!

And don’t forget that this essay just gave Myth 1227 more points to beat you with.