I flip through the channels, but they’re all still reporting on the Disaster. I’m tired of hearing about it. Just once, could I have a normal day? A day to be a kid? A day where I don’t have to worry about the evil dictator that’s taken over the world?
I guess not, because I’m a member of the team that’s going to stop him.
I shouldn’t even be writing this down. The Dictator has eyes and ears everywhere; he’s probably watching me write this. He probably knows everything I do, from the moment I get up to the moment I fall asleep at night. And he watches as we sleep - I learned that the hard way the one time I tried to sneak out at night and ended up setting off the block’s alarm sirens.
The Dictator thinks he’s controlling us. I’ve been paid to be his “informant,” joining the rebel groups and giving the Dictator information on them. The joke’s on him - I’m helping the rebel groups, not the other way around.
It wasn’t always this way. Before, I believed every lie that came out of the Dictator’s mouth. In schools and activities, my ears were trained to accept every word of his as the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Now, just looking at him on the television makes me want to puke.
The Dictator is giving a (probably pre-written) speech about an embassy on our borders that exploded yesterday. He attributes the explosion to our “enemy territories.” I have to choke back a laugh at that - it’s obvious that this explosion was entirely set up by the Dictator and his government. Anything to expand his rule; anything to “bring order and justice to the wilderness.” I’m sure the wilderness is doing just fine, thanks.
When I attend the secret meetings, make hushed calls on my burner phone, and take a different route home each day, I do it with the hope that someday my work will make a difference. But looking at the television, seeing the extent of the Dictator’s control over his people (who are cheering on-screen), I am faced with the reminder that it’s all for nothing. There’s a certain hopelessness in having your enemy be the most powerful person in your world, and even then - he’s just a pawn in someone else’s game. If he dies, another, equally slimy Dictator will take his place, hand-picked by the Dictator’s Dictator. If my team succeeds, the Dictator’s Dictator will have us all executed before we can even celebrate winning.
This is why I hate seeing the news about the Disaster - it fills me with hopelessness. That’s the Dictator’s goal after all, and I hate it. He controls us and subdues us by taking away our hope. But in a world as messed up as this, hope is the only thing one can do.

Star: Hello there esteemed Goose! May I ask you which animal you’re confident you could take down in a fight?
Goose: That's a tough question. {rubs hand together} I think if we're talking about predatorial animals, I could probably take down a cat or maybe a rat, if I was really vicious about it. I'm generally horrible at anything violence-wise, so I don't think I'd exactly be the hardest thing to fight. I could also probably hug a dog hard enough to make it pass out, but that would be incredibly sad, so I'll probably be trying not to do that. {laughs awkwardly}.
Star: Hm, and perhaps what your least favorite smell is?
My least favourite smell is probably the smell of any chemical. They always smell really horrific and strong, and off-putting, too. Chlorine from pools kind of describes this – it's just overwhelming and takes away from the whole experience. I also don't like the smell of some types of food – normally boiling vegetables, though it depends on the type of vegetables. Sometimes I love the smell of food – it depends on my mood, my current opinion on the food cooking and the space of the room. I don't think they should make a difference, but for some reason it does for me.
{grins} Thank you for your excellent responses! Now, ah, let’s see, what music do you believe should be played in everybody’s wedding?
Indie music, if you're looking for (the best) genre. {laughs} It can show a wide range of emotions and fits in with nearly any theme or idea. However, if we're looking for a song. I think it depends on the people being married! Songs like ‘I Know A Place’ by chevy are really sweet and I can imagine them being played at a wedding. It depends, though!
(251 words)

Goose: Greetings, incredible Star! May I perhaps ask you what animal you insist is the best, and why?
Star: Hmm, that’s hard! {pause} While it’s not my favorite animal (though it’s very close), I do believe the dog is the best animal. There’s such a huge selection of dogs, too, so there’s a type of dog for everybody! They’re beloved parts of many families, providing entertainment and comfort for everyone! They’re not just excellent pets, either — they can do an incredible amount of jobs that help keep humans safe, like being guide dogs, therapy dogs, and police dogs, to name a few!
Goose: Excellent answer! I love dogs, too. Um, {pause} do you think water is actually wet?
Star: {laughs} I’m passionate about this topic for no real reason. I don’t think water is wet. The definition of ‘wet’ is “covered or saturated with water or another liquid”. That definition doesn’t apply toward water itself — it applies towards living things or objects, if that makes sense? Water itself isn’t wet, water is what makes you wet. If I have water on me, it’s not the water that’s wet, it’s me. Sure, you cannot be wet without water, but the water itself cannot be wet since it is he substance that turns you wet in the first place. Just like how fire isn’t on fire — fire catches other things on fire, not itself. I believe that that logic applies to water as well. So, uh, yeah, that’s my conclusion!
(214 words)

I've never travelled before. At least, not to this extent, with swooping glaciated valleys and autumn trees bearing crisp golden leaves. It's almost hard to imagine that across the world, the reverse is happening: new buds of spring spreading gentle petals to the sun. This is different from any other form of travelling: this is an adventure, a new emotion, a collection of memories being made. It is almost impossible to describe, but at the same time it is all I want to describe.
The travelling itself has taken place in a great many methods: flight, train, sea, but in the end it is still travelling and it is still the most glorious thing I've ever done. Nothing else has compared to it, and that's my thoughts as I sit out on this deck and stare out onto the beautiful valley falling away below me.
I never appreciated travelling before this – it seems almost silly, looking back at it now – but I always thought of it as a thing for people to do when they're tired and bored and want to relax. This isn't relaxing, this is learning, and this is appreciating the beauty that nature surrounds us with constantly. Maybe finding the time to look up and appreciate it is the challenge in itself? After all, now that I'm out here and living, it isn't taking any effort whatsoever for me to enjoy nature, whereas it took so much effort to be here. So much planning and talking, angry phone calls where agents hung up on me every so often. It's simply peaceful here, and it's all I ever thought I'd see – and more. I never imagined to be able to see the horizon so clearly behind the dips of the mountains, or the gentle ripple of the river from the chalet. I never imagined to feel so complete.
(310 words – Goose)

It’s a little funny. One would think that obtaining the perfect career or the perfect family or the perfect living situation would be what completes a person — and, I guess, for some people it does. But not for everyone — or, me at least. Completion is dirt under my feet, the birds singing in the trees, and the fresh scent of pines. I don’t know why, exactly, but I think it has something to do with the everlasting cycle of nature. The leaves die, the creeks stop bubbling, the sun is obscured by clouds. And yet, the world goes on. From the fallen leaves come flowers. The dried creek makes room for holes and burrows for rabbits and squirrels. The clouds bring rain, healing nature’s wounds of drought. In the past few days I’ve learned that with death comes birth. Maybe not right away, maybe it’s hard to see through the agony of loss, maybe it’s a far off blessing that you won’t get to experience, but — but it’s there. It’s out there, far off in the mountains, behind the clouds, under a pile of dirt. The thought of it is reassuring, at least to me, knowing that whatever happens, nature will continue its eternal cycle. So I travel. I stock up memories of breathtaking mountains and oceans and forests, so when devastation hits, maybe I’ll remember the way the biting winds of winter make way for the gentle heat of spring. When everything goes wrong, and if or when I am but a brittle shell of everything I dreamed and hoped I would be, I won’t be hopeless. The world is not ending. After all, flower seeds are still buried in the ground, little critters are still tucked into fallen trees, and the sun, even though I cannot see it, is still in the sky.
(308 words – Star)

There was a man who lived only

With the voices in his head

They learnt to grow together

United, born and bred

One day, the man decided

That the people in his city

Didn’t appreciate him enough,

The voices cried for pity.

He wandered for a day and night

Until he found a wood

Here he looked up at the stars,

Among the grass he stood

The stars, they twinkled joyfully

In the way that all stars do

But he took it as a sign

That he had to follow through

So he trudged throughout the woods again

Desperate for any hope

And on his trail, he found a simple

Way to learn to cope

He focused on the wild, he did

And ignored all the trees

And all the manmade habits

Though they made him halt and freeze

Eventually, he came upon

A clearing filled with plants

Hopping ladybugs and crickets,

Even though it was left to chance

He looked around the clearing,

With his face creased in a frown

“But voices,” He explained,

“Is this a replacement for my town?”

Sweet berry bushes blushing

Boasting beautiful scarlet red

And the caterwauling calling of

The voices in his head

Guided him to the nascent swamp

Where bushes grow with grass

He tried to hide, to no surprise,

His love for the morass

But joy can come from differences,

Of ideas or of success,

And here inside the swamp he found

That he’d settle for what’s less

He set up camp among the green

With leaves he stole from trees

And tied his tent with the string he took

From a spider’s web with ease

The voices in his head, they spoke,

And screamed in cacophony

Yet now he found, that if he tried,

He could ignore them easily

He made his home from the stolen parts

Of other’s homes and worlds

Still, he found it pleasant

Til’ he dived for sparkling pearls

There, down on the seabed

Where the seagrass had always grown

The man realised that even if

He talked, he’d be alone

So, the voices in his head, they tried

To warn him to go cautiously

“Leaving was for a reason,

And if you go back, don’t you see?

Everything we’ve ever done would

Be thrown away carelessly,”

But he’d learnt to not listen

To the voices in his head

So, he packed his things and bid adieu

To the place he’d put is bed.

When he returned, the people

Welcomed him back with open arms

But the voices in his head were gone

And he was quite alarmed

The buzzing silence crept around,

Cushioned him all day

Still, during the night, without the light

Nobody else would stay

The voices in his head, they left

Departed on that day

Where they’d been, an empty space

Was left in disarray

(475 words and it took me 3:04 to read aloud <3)

Roses

{verse 1}
when we first met, I couldn't keep my eyes off of you
cause you were a dream, and now then you came true
since when have I written songs about you?

{pre-chorus}
do you like me? I don't know
would it hurt just to let it show?

{chorus}
rose garden, the leaves don't know what's in store
your thorns hardly ever prick me anymore
but where they did, my arms are still raw and sore

{verse 2}
the scent of your skin and how it mixes in with mine
if I'm allowed to think, I'm thinking overtime
and if I wandered would I ever roam your mind?
isn't it crazy that we're almost intertwined

{pre-chorus}
so do you like me? I really don't know
would it hurt you just to let it show
another garden, more pondering in the light
I don't know if I could ever say goodnight

{chorus}
rose garden, the leaves don't know what's in store
your thorns hardly ever prick me anymore
but where they did, my arms are still raw and sore

{bridge}
another message, unanswered, every time
another wish, shattered, say goodbye
another whisper, the trees all shake and bend
another answer, confused, make amends
another dubious grin from a friend
another way that I could make this end

{chorus}
rose garden, the leaves don't know what's in store
your thorns hardly ever prick me anymore
but where they did, my arms are still raw and sore
rose garden, the leaves don't know what's in store
your thorns hardly ever prick me anymore
but where they did, my arms are still raw and sore
(where they did, arms are still raw and sore)

(271 words)

Daily For November 13th and 14th
Word Count:

Table of Contents

Part 1- Partner @Clementine_Blue

Clems- 215 words
Mine- WIP

Kate]: Hello! First question, what is your opinion on mangoes? Would you eat a mango flavored cookie?

Clem]: I love mangoes! I'm too chicken to eat more than one at a time, though, because {giggles} they stimulate the bowels {bursts into laughter}. I would eat a mango flavored cookie. Maybe. I'll generally eat anything you put in front of me unless it's garlic. Bleh.

Kate]: {smiles} Great! Next question. Do you have a green thumb or a brown thumb? Have you ever killed a plant before?

Clem]: I mean, not that I know of? {scratches head} I've only really ever had one plant though. My fourth grade teacher gave everyone in our class a tree {giggles}. Keep in mind, this is the same teacher that used to call me “girlfriend” in a non-ironic way. She literally gave twenty kids packages with baby trees in them. Maybe I should have been concerned for her sanity.

Kate]: I think you should have {nods} Alright; Do you have any pets? If so, tell me a bit about them! If not, what’s your dream pet?

Clem]: No, I've never had pets {frowns}. I love animals, though. I would love to have cats. My friend has cats; I remember one time we were at a sleepover at her house and the cats kept coming into her room but couldn't get out. Since I was the only one awake, I had to keep getting up to let them out. It was the most adorable thing {smiles at the memory}.

Kate]: That’s adorable! {smiles} To end this off, what’s a fun fact about you?

Clem]: A fun fact about me… hm. {Scrunches face} I have super bad vision. I'm almost legally blind without my glasses {laughs}. It's kind of sad, actually.

Kate]: Oh- {awkwardly laughs} Well that’s all my questions for today, adiós! {waves goodbye}

Bi-Fi In-Cabin Dailies

Table of Contents

11/14/22:

I reach for the remote controller and switch on the TV, After everything that's happened I really just need to catch a break. I snuggle up in a throw blanket and curl up my body into a little ball, turning my head so that it's resting on the arm of my armchair. Despite my efforts, a chill still runs down my spine as a gust of wind shakes the entire house. Still shivering, I reluctantly get up and examine the windows. Realizing I still have one open, I quickly close and lock it before going back to my armchair. Now I really need a good TV show to watch. I turn on the first channel and see precisely the thing I've been trying to forget. A large volcano erupting. I can see the hot magma dripping down the volcano at a steady pace. I can see the smoke that's formed that in some ways is even more dangerous than the actual magma. I close my eyes and thank god that I don't live anywhere near the eruption. I also pray to god that my family will be okay. They live in the town closest to where the eruption was. I've been calling them nonstop and they've yet to pick up. I consider calling them again but decide I don't want to feed my anxiety and switch to the next channel. Again, I see the volcano. I quickly switch to the next channel and the next, but it's no use. They were all focused on the eruption. I switch off the TV and try not to cry. I wipe my eyes with my sleeve and drag my blanket upstairs. I lay down, relieved at the familiarity of my bed. I would have thought that I never would have been able to sleep after the stress and anxiety the day had brought, but to my surprise, I found myself quite exhausted. Maybe this is what I needed. I bundle up in my blanket and close my eyes. It feels that almost immediately I drift off into a much-needed sleep. (347 Words)

Part 1
{Iris} Hello, Willow! <3 I'm so glad I'm finally getting the chance to interview you and getting to know you better. Here are a few questions you can answer:
- opinions on pineapple pizza?
- why mangoes are the superior fruit?
- who's your favourite author?

{Willow} “I'll start with the first question. Pineapple on pizza, yum. I rather like it, I have no clue what the fuss is with it on pizza. Like I don't get why people are complaining about it when they put marshmallows, chocolate and lollies on their pizzas. It's honestly really confusing. Anyway, I love to eat pineapple on pizza, I normally have it when I am not eating another pizza, you see, I am not a picky eater in any sort of way. I will eat anything.”

{Willow} “Moving on, mangoes- why wouldn't they be the superior fruit?! Sorry, excuse my outburst. In my opinion, mangoes will always be the superior fruit, for many reasons. One, they are a famous SWC icon. Two, in Australia they taste so good, especially in season. Three, they just are. I mean they just are. It is what it is. That is why mangoes are superior.

{Willow} ”Final question, sadness. Oh ok! My favourite author, I would have to say is Suzanne Collins, she is the author of my all-time favourite novel the Hunger Games. I read this book when I was 9 years old, I know I was way too young, but I got tired of princes saving princesses, I wanted a female protagonist, someone who didn't take excuses from others. Suzanne Collins gave that to me, she changed my life."

(228 words for the parts with willow at the start)

Iris's Part: Unavailable

Part 2

{Iris} I'm grounded in my room for a week. This is how it all started. My Mom asked me to babysit my unruly little brother, Tommy since Mom and Dad were doing out on their anniversary for lunch followed by a cup of tea. At first I was adamant not to but then Dad offered me 10 pounds for it and I couldn't help refusing. I'd spent my last scrap of pocket money on the latest keeper of the lost cities book and didn't have enough money to buy the purse I wanted to give my friend, Ellen for her 14th birthday. I'm not a greedy person at heart, but knowing that it could spark Ellen's happiness changed everything. Tommy always got in trouble everywhere he went so this time I made sure he wouldn't disturb me or make any trouble. I went with him to the mall and left him in the Skyscraper Park where he could play and go on rides. Cheerfully thinking how well everything was going as I planned, I went to Starbucks and ordered a Chocolate Latte and a blueberry muffin and enjoyed it while reading a cliffhanger in the keeper of the lost cities book. I sat there peacefully for three whole hours and didn't realise that time went so quickly. It was almost time for Mom and Dad to come pick us up! I quickly packed my book, payed the bill and rushed over to Skyscraper's park. Firstly, the security guard didn't let me in for apparently I lost my payment slip for the park. Then, after calling the manager and checking the receipts online, they finally let me in which was by the time I was in a complete state of panic. If Mom and Dad found out that I hadn't properly babysit Tommy I'd be in huge trouble. I frantically searched around for Tommy, but somehow he was nowhere to be seen in the entire play area.

(325 words)


{Willow} My heart was racing. My eyes glanced from child to child, Tommy was nowhere to be seen. I was stressed, it was worse than losing my notes on the day of the exam. Way worse. Where was he? I was nearly in tears. I sprinted from one side of the play area to the other. Scanning the crowd of children who were climbing the playground equipment. My hand were shaking in fear as I reached into my bag to find my phone, I wasn't sure if it was because I had too much caffeine, or how I was scared that Tommy ran away. I struggled to hold my tears in as I punched in the password to my phone. I couldn't think of anyone to contact, and I certainly didn't want to call my parents. But is was my only choice. Great. I called them and heard the frustrated voices screaming through the speakers. I was surely grounded. Why did Tommy have to be so annoying?!? I sat under a tree, hands still shaking in fear. Waiting for my parents to arrive, my eyes remained fixated on the play area. Some lady saw me under the tree and came over to help, she calmed me down and together we searched for Tommy. Soon I heard my parents screaming out my name, great, the hurricane has arrived. Tears flooded my cheeks as the lady pulled Tommy out from a tunnel in the play area. I was relieved, and so were my parents. But I knew I would be heading into the eye of the storm at home. I sat in the car in silence. Not one word was spoken. Tommy was sent off to his room to think about his actions, and what happened to me you may ask? Well, I can say I didn't sleep that night. That is the story of how I was grounded.

(316 words)

Part 3
(412 words)

 My path, it was right in front of me //
Winding thought the trees //
The dirt loosened after every step I took .//
Gripping my lantern tight in my hand //
I saw the outlines of the towering trees ahead of me, //
and animals peering through the branches of the trees // 
The dirt path was guiding me //
No, //
It was instructing me on where to go. //
I must learn to discover new things, //
to paint my own path. //

I take a deep breath in, // 
as I hold the lantern in front of me. //
I decide to create my own path. //
Not following the one I was told to. //
To be different and independent. //
To do what I was taught growing up. //

I push the thick branches aside, //
stepping in puddles of mud, and holes in the ground. //
Noises echoed in my earss //
As I struggled to make my way through. //
Just like how life has it's struggles //
I found it hard to progress. //

But now it was getting to me, //
it was scaring me. //
I know I didn't have anyone here to rely on //
Just like how I wouldn't always have someone with me //
I must learn to be independent. //
To do what I was taught growing up. //

I continued creating my path. //
Making sure no one could get hurt, //
If they did choose to follow the path. //
I had now gained many scratches, //
From the twigs and branches, //
brushing against my face. // (1:37)

The scratches were like anchors holding me down //
The stinging pain sending shocks down my body //
I must learn to live with this. //
As I will suffer from pain in life. //
It is definite. //
Now I must learn to put up with it. //
To do what I was taught growing up. //

(break)

I could see the other side. //
It was still far, //
But I was proud to have come this far. //
Now I was up to that area where the bugs would come //
Each bug bit me, //
injecting some of their venom into my bloodstream //

(break)

The bites weren't bothering me. //
If I can deal with scratches. //
Bites will not bother me. //
I have learnt, //
I have now reflected on what I was taught. // (2:25)

I am here //
Proudness. //
I reached my goal //
Not letting anyone tell me what to do. //
I have painted my own path //
Independent, Strong, Suffering //
Learning, Growing, Sharing. //
Loving, Teaching, Happiness, //
I have reached to end. // (pause - 3-4 secs )
My light is now out. //

Part 4

Theme: Loss
Mood: Sad
Person: 1st
Tense: Past/Present/
Imagery:
Events: Death of a friend, impact
Potential lyrics:

Working title: Nightshade

Verse 1:
I've been crying, every night
since you left me.
I know, I know
it wasn't intentionally.

You didn't deserve to go,
to leave these earthly plains,
You were my friend, not a foe,
Every memory of you is fading

Pre-chorus:
Standing in a field of flowers, butterflies in the air,
flowers are now poison, killing you.
I never got to say goodbye.

Chorus:
Beautiful but deadly,
I never felt this pain, it hurts love.
A plane in sky, looks so harmless can't you see?
A curse is placed on you and me.
Poisoned, Poisoned Nightshade.
Beautiful but deadly.

Verse 2:
Flowers bloom and they fall,
like trees leave and then they're gone.
But you weren't supposed to disappear like that.
Why not temporary, it's been so long.

Since you have been gone.
Every memory, they're not coming back to me.
THe poisons travelling through blood stream.
Look what it did to me.

Pre-chorus:
Standing in a field of snakes, nothing left here,
all the beauty is gone, all that's left is tears.
How to mend the wounds I was given.

Chorus:
Beautiful but deadly,
I never felt this pain, it hurts love.
A plane in sky, looks so harmless can't you see?
A curse is placed on you and me.
Poisoned, Poisoned Nightshade.
Beautiful but deadly.

Bridge
Nineteenth of the twelfth in 2021
Everything came crashing down x3
Nineteenth of the twelfth in 2021
Nearly a year ago,
the damage was done.

Pre-chorus:
Standing in a empty landscape, nothing left here,
all the beauty is gone, non-existent memories
How do I remove the pain I was given

Chorus;
Beautiful but deadly,
I never felt this pain, it hurts, love.
A plane in the sky, looks so harmless can't you see?
A curse is placed on you and me.
Poisoned, Poisoned Nightshade.
Beautiful but deadly.

Poisoned, Poisoned Nightshade
Death, Sadness and grief.
Poisoned, Poisoned Nightshade,
Beautiful but deadly.

(308 words)

(For any of you wondering, this song is based on real-life events. You may be able to figure out the date this happened. My friend Lavinia, and her brother, and her father died in a plane crash. It was them and their pilot. This happened only days before Christmas, in fact their mum was wrapping presents when she was informed about this. I was in tears when I found out, she was such a good friend. She had left to go on holiday, for her brother's birthday (ninth). So the crash happened far from where I lived, making it worse for their family. She also was quite a good friend, she was more of a family friend as she didn't go to school with me. But I miss her very much. If you want to know more about how to search up: Redcliffe plane crash on the nineteenth of December - it may say four dead.)

LETS GET STARTED

Characters-

@Icebunny11 - Ava
@puppycutest - Jojo
@SussyLegWarmers- - Aeo
@fluffyjujunicorn - JC
@Dawn_Camps - Dawn

400 words from an interview transcript with a partner, with at least 200 words written by you

a monologue written with a partner, with at least 300 words written by you

By me, Bee:

I don’t want to open my eyes.

I already know what I’ll see, if I do — I’ll see those shadowy figures that lurk around every corner. Behind every one of the tall pale trees. In each reflection where the snow has melted. Rough shapes of people… but not really people. Not really people at all.

I can’t help but wondering, why me? Why must they pursue me through the dark and the cold? My screaming, drowned and diffused in the snow, cannot ward them away, nor can I outrun them. Why must it be I, trapped in this nightmarish realm — this endless, shadowy forest.

I don’t have an answer. I am all alone.
All alone, except for the presence of my own thoughts.

By Brave:

I want to know.

I've been hating all this time. Hesitating. Waiting for a miracle to save me from the endless nightmare I'm forced into.
I used to come here when the world closed in and got so small that I couldn't breath. I'd come here and reflect on the empty feeling of staying alive.
The empty — endless — feeling of being drowned in my own anxiety.

Me:

It was strangely comforting. For a while. But…

It slipped away from me. Out of my control. And now I’m stuck. Trapped. Suspended in this limbo. Like one of those nightmares I’d always had, where I’m running — I don’t know what from, but I know I’m terrified of it — and then I just can’t run anymore. The air grows thick and heavy, and it’s an effort to push through it.
Except I think this nightmare must be real. And it scares me. It scares me so much.

I just want to go home.

I’ve always said that, even when I am at home. I suppose that sometimes home can be more of a time, or a situation, than a place. But I mean it this time. I just want to go home.

Brave:

The shadow figures that lurk around the dark, gloomy forest. This thing; it suffocates me. It drowns me. It harms me. It breaks me. It's simply a whirlwind of chaos that closes in on me — there’s no light at the end of the tunnel.

I need to escape.

Obtuse minutes are counted down. Fast and shallow breaths are taken. A new, harmful disaster has risen.

When will this torture end?

Fear is rushing through my body, my heart is freezing of despair, and cold shivers run down my spine. Please… I need to wake up from this nightmare.
Except… my eyes are wide open.
I'm not asleep.

Me:

I cast my mind back to when my life was more than this. It all seems like a blurred dream, now. Nothing but a hazy memory. Like I’ve been here a lifetime; but I know I haven’t. I know there was more, once.

I can smell strawberries.

I can see a sunset.

Like a painting filled with swirls of pink and orange, it stretches across the sky, over the endless fields of strawberries — the strawberries that I’m picking. I can feel it now. I’m putting them in my wicker basket. And I’m laughing, my head thrown back to the sky.

I want to reach out and touch it. To grasp it with both hands, to step within it. It hurts so much, more than anything this forest could do to me. It hurts so much, to be able to see everything in my mind and just not be able to go there. Ever again.

Brave:

The thought of going back to something I love — Would it ever be possible?
This was once a night terror — Now, more real than my own shredded flesh and beating heart.

I'm one step away from falling down, into the abyss of my consciousness. Am I awake or dreaming? Alive or dead? Human or Ghost? A nightmare or reality mocking me? I can't tell the difference anymore…

The forest was dense. The night was dark. Horror was in the scene. I was trapped in that nightmare. Shaking. Trembling. Terrified. Afraid. Scared. This nightmare didn't only happen once. The same nightmares that wrap their evil hands around my soul, trying to pull me deep within a world ruled by fright. My eyelids slightly trembled, fluttering open. And I'm here again. Same old situation, yet another night in pain, stuck in this fake-like simulation.
What a world.

Spoken word poem, minimum of 3 minutes long

How?

How can the absence of something hurt so much?
Unlike a nail through your palm,
Or a slug eating your flowers,
You cannot remove the absence of something
It is not so easy to remedy

You can pull the nail from your skin
And pick off the slug
And it will hurt
But what causes the hurt?
For it is not the object itself,
It is the hole in your hand, the absence of your roses
That it leaves behind

How can you replace what made you whole?
You can try to fill yourself with other things
But they will never fit quite right
They may slip away from you
And shatter on the ground

You can stitch the hole in yourself up
And you will look whole from the outside
But inside, it still remains
You are still hollow
Sometimes the stitches may come undone
And your emptiness will be exposed

You can try to mend yourself
To build yourself back up
And you’ll get by —
But the absence of something,

Can never truly be fixed.

And perhaps this is the reason that everyone seems to want something different —
That when you’re breaking,
Everyone seems to think that you’re not breaking properly
You’re broken too much. Weak. Pathetic. Just get better!
You’re not broken enough. Heartless. Psychopath. Did you even care?

Perhaps, the fact that there is no real answer
That there will never be a real answer
A real way to fill the gaping hole
That seems to gradually wear and tatter at the edges
Is the very reason that everyone seems to grasp so desperately for one

But maybe,
Maybe it’s just that you don’t understand
Maybe you just don’t get it
Maybe you need help: an explanation
You see, when someone is ripped apart
When someone is shattered
Strewn across the ground where they stand,
When someone can barely gather the pieces of themselves
When they cannot even begin to put them back together

They don’t want your words.

They don’t want to know the bitter taste that pours from your lips when you speak.
They don’t want lies.
They don’t want your pity, either.
And they don’t want your advice.

When they can barely keep their chin above the water in between the waves,
When someone tries to cling on to the rocks,
Trying to climb back on the shore
Don’t pull them back in because they didn’t drown properly
Don’t stand there, telling them how easy it is to swim

How, when someone is being drowned, broken, crushed
Can they escape?
How can they even stay alive?

There is no real answer

But please understand

There is no wrong way to survive

a song based on Alba's flower project with at least two verses, a chorus repeated at least twice, a bridge, and at least 250 words long

Better ✿

(Verse 1)

Sometimes I think it’s never getting better
Nothing comes but snow on snow
Every time I think I’ve found the answer
The universe tells me no, no, no

(Pre-chorus)

But when the sun shines on the grass
Then I think I know

(Chorus)

Now I see the snowdrops come
Pushing through the dirt
All my worries melt away
Nothing left to hurt

(Verse 2)

Again I start to doubt myself
Where is the birdsong gone?
Everything disappears now
And I think my life is done

(Pre-chorus)

But when the sun shines on the grass
I can leap forwards, and run

(Chorus)

Now I see the snowdrops come
Pushing through the dirt
All my worries melt away
Nothing left to hurt

(Verse 3)

I wonder if I’m better yet
Or at least if I’ll be better soon
I don’t wanna fall again
I‘ll at least last the afternoon

(Pre-chorus)

But when the sun shines on the grass
I think I know the tune

(Chorus)

Now I see the snowdrops come
Pushing through the dirt
All my worries melt away
Nothing left to hurt

(Bridge)

Snowdrops, keys, locks
I’d be running through the sky
Snowdrops, keys, locks
My tears are red when I cry

Snowdrops, keys, locks
I’ll go out in style
Snowdrops, keys, locks
If only for a while

(Pre-chorus)

But when the sun shines on the grass,
I finally can smile

(Chorus)

Now I see the snowdrops come
Pushing through the dirt
All my worries melt away
Nothing left to hurt

(Chorus repeat)

Now I see the snowdrops come
Pushing through the dirt
All my worries melt away
Nothing left to hurt

Nothing left to hurt

Nothing left to hurt

Nothing

I’m nothing

(End)

11/13 (421 words): Welcome to the second bidaily of this session! The ever-stunning Starr has granted us with a workshop on humor, which can be found here: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/747563700/ We'll be putting a spin on the iconic daily as we know it- using what you've learned from the humour workshop, write 400 words of a SWC fanfiction in the form of a comedic skit/script! This'll earn you 300 points- remember you have 2 days to complete this daily. We hope you'll have fun with this one!

Two people stand on a stage. There are no decorations, only a bright spotlight on the two. They are both wearing white t-shirts and dark jeans. TORI HISCAL, the person on the left, has a leather jacket and a cowboy hat. Her hair is in two braids. ZARI BRO, the person on the right, has multiple piercings and a pair of sunglasses pushed on top of their head. The whole stage is giving “low-budget school theatre production.”

Tori: I just don’t get it, Zari. This isn’t how it was supposed to end!

Zari: (rolls eyes) I mean, not every story is going to end up with the hero riding off into the sunset. Personally, I hate horses.

Tori, exasperated: There you go again! Making it about you! You always monopolize every conversation, and turn every normal outing into something utterly bizarre.

Zari: But- (stutters) That’s not fair to me. When have I ever done that?

Tori: (laughs derisively) The haunted house, homecoming, the ski weekend, the horseback riding-

Zari, defensively: The horseback riding wasn’t my fault! I seriously didn’t know horses defecate that much!

Tori: You interrupted me - the cave tour, the museum visits, the geocache, the winter formal, the writers’ retreat-

Zari: How was I supposed to know that cabin was haunted? I thought it would be fun. Creativity-inducing. (flips hair) Romantic. I guess I was wrong.

Tori: the amusement park, the music festival- and don’t even try to argue, you knew someone had been murdered there and deliberately wanted to go there anyway- (counts things she's said) I’m running out of fingers! That says something, Zari!

Zari: Look, maybe you’re right. Clearly we’re not meant to be. You love to preserve history. I love to throw slugs at statues of historical figures. But I really wanted to connect with you, and a lot of those things I thought you’d enjoy. That cabin was at a historical state park. The horseback riding - and I offered to do that with you even though I don’t like horses - was in a Civil War battleground. The music festival was celebrating old-time music. I’ve really tried, in my own way, and it hurts that you don’t see that, Tori.

Tori, quieter: You’re right. I wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry. I do love spending time with you, and even with all your chaotic tendencies, you are the most important person in my world. Try again?

Zari: Try again.

The two hug each other and start to walk off-stage, slowly.

Tori: But those slugs were really uncalled for.

Zari: They were funny! Thomas Jefferson loved slugs!

Tori: (sighs) Here we go again…

this was so fun to write, and I owe credit to three amazing SWC-ers. First: @Luna-Lovegood-LOL, for coming up with the genius cabin names. Second and third: @xc-egg and @Rey_venclaw for the whole ‘bi-fi and hi-fi were dating at one point’ thing, which I played off of for this skit. It's a breakup scene between Zari (bi-fi) and Tori (hi-fi). Enjoy!