t/w: punishment by death, a bit of torture (if you count hallucinations as torture) and prison

Corvus

My mind is a dreamy haze of chaos and confusion. Bright kaleidoscope-like lights fill up my vision, swamping me in an ocean of colors that give me a massive headache.

Reds, oranges, greens, bits of yellow, I see them all.

As fast as it started, I’m awake.

I’m only faintly aware of my surroundings. I understand I’m locked away in Corvus, the notorious prison where people are sent for breaking the most dangerous laws in the empire. One that can end in one punishment, one that represents the meaning of Corvus: death.

I have no idea how long I've been here nor do I know how long I’ve got left. Time sort of blurs together when you’re either answering questions or forced into submission and have to deal with the terror of the many nightmares that comes along with the drugs.

This place is obviously cursed, cursed to punish those who need to, cursed to forever put us in misery. Obviously Corvus was designed like that, everything that was essential to life was made to torture you.

Yet neither do my loved ones nor the judges that sent me here know that I'm innocent. I don’t deserve to be trapped in this nightmare.

Any drinkable water would be infested with poisons to the point where it isn’t drinkable at all. The food is enchanted with curses that eat at your insides. Your sleep is haunted since nightmares lurk every corner. Even walking is cursed. In the occasional walks that happen when you’re moved, whether to questioning or a new cell, seem to take forever and your legs will feel beat and d3ad by the time you reach the end- of course, the guards don’t feel any of that pain.

I can tell my time in the empire is coming to an end. Whenever I see a guard or noble walking, they look at me with pity. They know that my time in this world will be cut short soon.

I know it's soon. I can hear the voices of workers that manage the prison.

“So close. Soon. Then we don’t have to deal with her.” they say.

For a while, I continue the routine that I’ve gotten used to. Wake up. Eat. Stay in the cell, hallucinating. Sleep. And repeat. It sort of reminds me of the shirts I’ve seen humans wear- but instead of ‘stay in cell’ it would be replaced with ‘gaming’ or some other human hobby. Staying in prison is NOT a hobby.

At first I didn’t notice it, but then I felt the pangs of hunger. Usually this never happens. The guards always managed to keep me fed before I felt hungry. With a sickening feeling I realized what it meant. Today’s the day. Today’s the day I die. All because I was at the wrong place at the wrong time. They probably didn’t think it was worth it, feeding someone who’ll die anyways.

I was escorted to a small room. It held a chair, which I was strapped to, a table which my chair was facing, held the judges who had sent me here, and the bleachers.

On the bleachers was a small crowd of people who had meant something to me in my life. My parents, my sister, my best friend, and the worst of all, Master.

I didn’t bother looking at him. The last time I had seen him was when I was proved guilty- since when they condemned me to this prison and punishment. The last time I had seen him, his face was a combination of disappointment- the worst feeling to have to witness. An ache in my heart spread through me.

I kept my head down and listened silently to the judge who spoke, “The time has come for the disposal of Faye Aesthra. Those who’ve gathered have represented something about her life.”


The judge speaking looked at the small crowd, “Each one of you here are here to reflect the achievements in young Aesthra’s life.”

“We have Lord and Lady Aesthra here to represent love. The love shown to Faye. We have friendship to show that Faye has made a difference in someone’s life and vice versa represented by her best friend young Callum Woodson. And then we have her Master. Master Belis, regime of knowledge. Master Belis represents the learning she did near the end of her life.”

The judge cleared his throat and a guard came rushing from the doorway I had entered. With him, he brought a small flask. He walked towards me and lifted my mouth. I held my mouth open firmly as the bitter liquid streamed down my throat.

Immediately I entered a land of horror. Monsters appeared everywhere I turned. Loud sounds roared in my ears- like nails scratching a chalkboard. I get goosebumps all over. Soon the scene around me spun, getting faster and faster each second. Nausea flared from inside of me. My body ached with exhaustion, hunger, and something sharp coming from my stomach. They probably thought exploding myself was the best way for me to go. Darkness crowded my vision as I felt heat rising up from around me. Sweat trailed down my back. Then as quick as it started, a light trickles in. Flushing and pushing away the darkness. I open my eyes and see that the world is burning around me. I’m dead. This must be h3ll.

Then I realized, I was still… alive. My hands were still tied, but the ropes were charred and I was able to pull them free. Everything felt real like I wasn’t a spirit wandering the underworld. I rubbed my wrists, which were sore and had rug burns from where the rope had been tied. I ignored the pain and started coughing thanks to new pain- the smoke that I was inhaling. I covered my nose and mouth with my shirt and realized with glee that I was free!

Happy, I searched the room, looking around me for an exit. Everyone had deserted the room once the fire started.

Ignoring the raging flames slashing at my body, I raced through the room, searching for the exit. A cold hand gripped my arm, sending a flash through my body. The air around me shimmers and shifts and I realize that I’m teleporting. Probably some guard found me and was bringing me to a new prison I thought with despair.

Instead, I’m in a cave. A group of cloaked figures surround me in a circle.

One steps forward and speaks with a crisp accent, “Greetings Faye. Welcome to the Order of Justice. We recruit people, young and old, who have been wrongfully condemned. Would you like to join our order?”


(1135 words )

Main cabin daily 19 - symbolism
November 18, 2022

I got a lamp representing the concept that ignorance is bliss

The lamp sat on a table. The table was in a room in an attic in a house, and the house was in a town where it was always raining. The lamp had a light bulb, but nobody knew if it really worked, and nobody bothered to turn it on. And so the lamp just sat there, its shade collecting dust, as the tabletop and the attic floor and the house also collected dust.

The lamp had been bought on a whim at a local antique store, by a family with lots of money to spare but not enough spare time to pay any attention to the lamp. So it got shoved into the attic, where it still sits today. When the family moved out, the lamp was left there, and a new family moved in. They saw the lamp, admired its beauty for a moment, and left the attic.

Nobody had ever turned the lamp on. They hadn’t even touched its switch, or plugged in the cord. The lamp didn’t mind. It didn’t even feel lonely. It didn’t know a life other than the one it lived, and because of that, it didn’t want anything else. It was happy in its uneventful world, and secretly hoped to itself that nobody would ever bother to turn it on, because that would change a lot of things. The lamp did not find change necessary; not in a world where everything it knew was fine as it was.

The lamp felt safe in its stable life, and took comfort in the fact that nothing was going to ever be any different. Sure, there was a whole big world outside of the table in the attic of the house, but the lamp didn’t know anything about that, and it was fine with that. Deep down, the lamp was afraid of what would happen if somebody turned it on. Would it be hot? Bright? Would it burn off the security blanket of dust that had been there as long as anyone could remember? …Would it even turn on? Or just flicker and flash, or not even do anything at all…

The lamp was scared of what it didn’t know, so it didn’t bother to find out. On the rare occasion where somebody came to the attic, it made itself unremarkable and nondescript, avoiding the eyes of anyone who came near. If the lamp always lived in darkness, it couldn’t be burned by its light.

But then again.
If it lived in darkness, would anyone ever know how bright it could be?

427 words

MC DAILY 19- Symbolism

A flower that represents emptiness? Best starter ever!

In Layla's Floral Emporium, the stalls were overcrowded with blooming flowers in every shape, size and colour. From large butter-coloured lilies to tiny bright pink wildflowers, anyone who walked in was sure to find a flower that spoke to them.

No-one really noticed the tiny daisy at the back, though. No-one really cared about it.

Perhaps it was the way that its browning petals drooped as if it didn't have a purpose in life anymore? Or the fact that its stalk was dry and shrivelled up despite the fact it had sprinklers spraying fresh, cooling water on it 12 hours a day? Maybe it was the fact that it was hidden away underneath several bright, blooming flowers that were too beautiful to even consider the thought of bending back the perfect green stalks to look underneath.
The only person who noticed it at all, in fact, was a teenage girl with a black hoodie on and long hair that she frantically pulled over her eyes, as if she was trying to hide away. Red rimmed her eyes as she gazed at the flowers, stifling a sob.
That was when she noticed the small, brown, wilted daisy that many people had passed and neglected to noticed. She pushed away the huge, colourful flowers masking it - they're just flowers, don't throw a tantrum about it, she thought - and stared at the daisy, caressing its petals for a few minutes before walking away.

How strange. Possibly she and the daisy both had something in common. They were both broken-hearted, after all.

258 words!

https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/642678/?page=1#post-6749799

I did the Eisenhower's Matrix and Pareto Analysis, I'd rather not share them though <3 The total word count was 60.

– – –

(Comments are not counted in word count)

“all these ideas are so creative oh my (/pos) anWYAYS here's a prompt! make a world/character based off a certain group of things, like months, colors or seasons. as an add-on, think of an adjective and use that adjective as a kind of core for the characters/world”
~ https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/32408801/comments/#comments-203451188

“Ooh, this is interesting :0 Adding on, maybe try setting the weather to the current weather for you too, like what someone said a few comments below ^^”
~ https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/32408801/comments/#comments-203453063

“As an add-on, try to incorporate a flashback/scene from the character's past into the story maybe :0”
~ https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/32408801/comments/#comments-203453193

“Add on, something is stopping the character from doing the action!”
~ https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/32408801/comments/#comments-203555000

– – –

(Checklist is not counted in word count)

Checklist:
• Sleep early/earlier
• Drink at least six glasses of water each day
• Turn electronics off for a while
• Listen to music

Sleeping! Sleep is something we NEED in our everyday lives. Sleep affects our physical health, and in most cases, our mental health too. Not getting enough sleep can make us feel terrible and stressed, so it’s important to have a good rest! (Ooh, that rhymed.)

There are tons of benefits for sleeping: less stress, less tiredness, reduced chance of getting certain health problems, no or less weight gain, and overall just making us feel better, to name a few. If we don’t sleep, our mental and physical health can decrease.

We should sleep for around 8 hours a day. Sleeping for too little can still make us feel tired, however sleeping for too long a lot can have some bad effects too. Try to balance your sleep.

It’s good to have a consistent sleep schedule too! Sleeping at 9am one day and then 11am the next day is not ideal haha.

I understand that it may be hard to convince yourself to sleep early (trust me, I’ve been there), so attempt taking small steps first if you’re struggling to have a good sleep schedule. For example, try to sleep 5-10 minutes earlier each day. Try not to stay up all night watching videos, writing, drawing or something else haha. If you’re having difficulty sleeping, there are many techniques and suggestions on sleeping easier, so consider checking them out!

If anyone is actually reading this, I hope this helped in some way! Have a good day, and remember to take care of yourself.

Section 1 Word Count: 60
Section 2 Word Count: 0
Section 3 Word Count: 252
Total Word Count: 312

Why Spreading Appreciation is Important
SWC Weekly!! (289 words)

The value of spreading affection is severely underestimated. The action is not perpetuated enough in our day-to-day life. I understand — yes, it may be difficult or possibly even awkward to tell someone you appreciate them. But you must try to find as many excuses to show people your appreciation as you can. A very special one is coming up, and that is Thanksgiving. Give your thanks. You can do this very easily by starting off with a ‘Happy thanksgiving’ and then letting people know you appreciate them. It’s just as valuable in text or in writing as it is in person, so just do whatever works for you. But do it. Gratitude is so important, and actually communicating that gratitude can be extremely rewarding.

This Thanksgiving, I plan to send messages to each of my friends that detail a memory I have with them and their qualities that I am thankful for. I also plan to thank my teachers for all that they’ve done this year. Especially when you’re busy, checking in with your friends and letting them know how much they mean to you can be really special to them. Another really easy way to start is saying ‘I was just thinking about how there isn’t enough appreciation shown to others in general, so just wanted to let you know I appreciate you’ and elaborating on that. I can tell you as a receiver of a similar message a few years ago around Thanksgiving break really made the holiday special for me, and I still remember it to this day. So I’d say this simple act is far more important than it may seem, and you should definitely take the time to spread gratitude and affection this Thanksgiving.

My hands were frostbitten, I watched as the pale white color drained out of my fingers, slowly transforming to a pale purple. I reached out into the cloak of mist that wrapped the area, I felt the warmth of his hands, I held them in mine. I dragged myself over the snowy landscape, his fingers wrapping around my numb hands. I saw as the mist got thicker, I heard the clink of his heels against the thin sheet of ice that stretched out for miles, clink clink clink. I couldn't walk more, but his hands gripped mine, and pulled me behind him. I felt as his hands got colder and colder, until he left mine. I stumbled down, my feet had given away. My breath was nothing more than a white fog, that shivered out of my mouth. I watched him turn around, his eyes glowing red against the never ending fog. His frostbitten lips twisted into a cruel smile, his hands ran through my hair as he whispered
“Can't wait till when you die”
He walked off, my legs felt nonexistent, I couldn't process anything. Had I fallen in love with the wrong man? I hoped he would come back, to walk me through my home, and to someplace… warmer. But he didn't, did he really want me to die? I trusted him, what just happened?
I was a mime, I offered him a rose. He softly took it from my hands, only to give me back the thorns. My clothes painted in black and white, to represent the bittersweet love I had experienced. I placed out my nimble hands, gripping the invisible rope of life, I had held on to it all my life, he had helped me pull it, the same way he pulled me through the snow. Only to leave me stranded on even colder ice.
Snowflakes dropped down in front of me, I couldn't move, I felt myself shivering as my back gave away. My body fell onto the ice, I let out a muffled cry as the ice under my crack. I drowned, so deep into the water. I am a mime, I lived my life in black and white till he showed me another color, a color too dull to exist. I got trapped in the invisible box I created, I tried to entertain him, but I was left gasping for oxygen, wishing he was still here. Why? he just betrayed me, you know why? I loved him, and a love that developed over years, couldn't be demolished that easy, I wish. I hate him, but i'll always love him.

This is a great piece! I think you captured the mood of fear and unbelief really well. Also you displayed the original love well, showing that the character did once love this person. You really show how the character is blinded by her love of the man, not seeing how he was manipulating her and had harmful intentions. I enjoyed reading this and your imagination and creativity really shown with whatever symbolism prompt generated for you! The way you described things in the story were really great, the icy fear of death approaching as she falls into the water and her last thoughts fade away. One part was slightly grammatically confusing, this part: “I saw as the mist got thicker, I heard the clink of his heels…” etc. It sounds like that when she sees the mist get thicker she suddenly hears his heels, so the “as” shouldn't be there. Just “I saw the mist got thicker”. There should be an “and” before “his hands ran through my hair”, which means remove the comma from the second part of the sentence. Sorry if that sounds confusing. But the story and dramatic sense throughout it is so cool, great work I liked the ending a lot. This person really felt pain and was disturbed by her “love”, but she still felt affection through that, which really displayed how blinded she was. Amazing piece! <3

19th November Daily, Symbolism
(468 words)
Write about a robot that represents the concept of acceptances

“Buzz, buzz”. I looked around, wondering what some is that. I saw a mouse-shaped robot with blue eyes. The other peoples and robots walked away from it, disgusted. Feeling curious, I walked towards the robot. “Beware! This is the former robot of Mr. Ink's son, who knows if it’s still dangerous? Or maybe…. A weird, sad one?”, A kid that is around my age shouted. He has black curly hair, and some peoples near him started laughing. “Hey! Leave it alone!”, I ran and shouted. “Pfft. Whatever”, The kid said and walked away, still laughing. “Hey. Are you okay?” I asked, leaning down to the robot. “N-no… They all have been messing with me… They won't s-stop…”, The poor robot sobbed. “Well, I'm Anne. They should've seen how cute you are”, I whispered softly. “It doesn't matter. They'll never accept me”, The robot answered. “I-i'm…. I'm Pounce by the way”, The robot said slowly. “It's alright. I'll be with you, accept you. No matter what”, I whispered. “Promise?”, Pounce's voice sounded hopeful. “Promise.”
Third of December. I walked down the stairs, and called for Pounce. “Where are you?”, I shouted when it didn't answer. “Here”, Pounce suddenly showed up, panting (in a robot styled way). “Let's go. We don't want to be late”, I shouted while running. Pounce tries to catch up to me. “Nice robot, Anne”, A boy called. I looked and saw a boy with black curly hair. The same boy that I saw when I first met Pounce. “You”, I hissed. “Well don't be rude. I'm not here to do things like those old days. I got to admit, it is pretty cute.” He smiled. “Say sorry to Pounce”, I answered ignoring his smile. “Alright, alright, fine. Sorry for being a not really nice guy back then”, He said, a bit hesitating. “I'm Henry by the way”, He quickly added. “Were in the same school. That's how I know your name”, Henry Said before I could ask anything. “Anyways… It seems like your little friend has a little problem. Pounce could enter the robot contest, and everyone will accept it for who it is”, Henry suggested. “Great idea!”, I answered happily.
A week has passed since I meet Henry. Pounce has been practicing really hard for the competition. “You got this. Good luck, champ”, Henry whispered. Pounce went on the stage with me, and we perform all of our tricks. It turns out Pounce got number one on the contest. After everyone realized who Pounce is, they hesitate a bit. But seeing me and Henry play with Pounce, they finally accept it. Deep in my heart, I'm really happy that Pounce, a former robot of a thief's son, got accepted in the robot community. And I know deep in henry's heart he felt the same.

I found your writing very amusing, it was so entertaining and funny. I also found that I could hear the audience actually laughing while I read this, the way you wrote this really helps create an image in the reader’s brain and I find it pretty hilarious to visualise the daily team having fun adventures, I applaud you
*audience applauds*
A really small detail I found was that in the sentence ‘*Birdi rushes into the room through the door*’ , I feel the ‘through the door’ is a bit unnecessary, unless there was the possibility of birdi entering through the 4th wall or the window, which is very likely. This is a really tiny detail I put my eye to, but I would positively love to see this as an actual tv show, this truly made my day.
One thing I have to point out is the format in which this was written, it could have been done in a sort of story way, but I find it much better in the play script sort of style, which makes it much more television like, this is truly a masterpiece and I am in awe. I shall be waiting for regular continuations so that I can cure my reading slump.
I also have sort of a question, in the part of the piece where you state ‘*audience: applause and cheering greets her*’ I guess the * sort of suggests that it is an action performed by the audience, but the format shows that is is a dialogue? I’m terribly sorry if i’m confused, but I read this as sort of a narration where the audience says that applause and cheering greets her. Maybe it could be phrased like ‘*cheers and applause*’ or something else!
I could barely find anything to critique, it was truly spectacular and beguiling and I really hope to read more of this, my new favourite!
*wave applauds before exiting*

Critiqaire for @AbbieB1266

Compared to Norla’s own mob of tangles, Jenna could be a princess. Oh wait. She was. Jenna, princess of Alira. Meanwhile, Norla got to be the extra princess. Their backup if her precious sister couldn’t do it. Well more if her precious sister died, because Jenna couldn’t fail. Norla tried not to be bitter. Tried. She tried to do everything. Sit perfectly like her sister. Stand as straight as the stone slabs of the castle. It didn’t matter. She was never right. No one had really cared about Norla. Except Jenna. That made it ten times harder to hate her. Or just disagree. Or just anything.

This contributes extremely well to Norla's character development! I love how you accentuated how Nora tried so hard to be just as good as her sister, and how hard it is to be bitter towards her.

“Sorry sis, I burnt something.” It was Jenna. She indeed had burnt something. Norla got out of her cot and went over to where her older sister stood in front of the fire.
—
“No, we need to save our food.” Her perfect sister was smart too. Unfortunately, her sister was right-if they were stuck in this ridiculous bunker, food would have to last. The bunker was a precaution. Apparently some anonymous source said they were in danger. Again.

This is vague character development for Jenna. Norla sees her as ‘perfect’, and I'm assuming she will notice it more later on but now, Norla's ignorance of this characterizes her as oblivious to this. It also accentuates her low self-esteem. I feel like you really developed Nora well with these details, but you could have shown a little more of Jenna's imperfections, in my opinion.

Other than being hot, stuffy, and at the same time freezing at night, it was boring. Her perfect sister was boring, the stone walls were boring, the lack of nobles to annoy was boring. About that, the snobby nobles were always commenting on her impoliteness. Which is partially why she quit trying. If people didn’t expect anything but the worst, that's what they saw and got. Norla had long since decided that those nobles needed to be put in their place. She had competed in boy activities, slouched, rolled her eyes, thrown tantrums that were usually fake, and ignored their greetings.

I love how you accentuated Norla's personality here! In fact, it makes it even better that she originally tried to be someone she was not, and then showed her true colors. It shows the adventurous and reckless side to Norla.

Overall, the first chapter of your series develops Norla really well, but you could have accentuated Jenna's personality a bit better. The chapter is also slightly vague. I am not sure if these were your intentions with this chapter. If it was, good job with the mysterious aspect to the chapter! You don't reveal if Jenna is a hybrid like Nora, although with the details I assume not or she is hiding her wings.

november 19 daily
A robot that represents the concept of nervousness…

Twitching and glitching, an old, dusty robot lay on the side of a street, awaiting it's master, as it had been for years and years. He had never come, and the robot was losing hope. That is, until Anastasia came along. Anastasia was a girl like no other, with long, wavy brown hair sweeping her waist, and eyes of caramel. People adored Anastasia and her lovely self, and she was very kind-hearted and passionate as well. So, as you might assume, Anastasia happened to walk past the old robot and took pity on him, all alone in the world. So, Anastasia and her family took him in! “What is your name, dear robot?” Anastasia asked. “My name is Bleep-Blorp.” The robot replied. Mostly, Bleep-Blorp just hung out with Anastasia when she came back from school and played games with her. But other days he painted, drew, did math problems, and tried to keep up with what Anastasia was working on in school. Eventually, Anastasia said, “Bleep-Blorp, I've been talking to my parents, and since you like my schoolwork so much, and my parents say it is all right, how would you like to come to school with me?” “Really?” Bleep-Blorp said, “wow!!! Thank you so much Anastasia! I can't wait!” A few weeks later, Bleep-Blorp began his first day of school, at Anastasia's school, Pumpkin High Middle (added some festivity!). Bleep-Blorp was scared and shaky, for he didn't know if kids at school would accept a robot like him. Anastasia hooked her arm through his, and they walked into school. The second he walked in, Bleep-Blorp wished he hadn't. All of the kids stopped and pointed, whispered, and stared. Bleep-Blorp ran, crying to the bathroom. He sat in the stall for what seemed like forever until Anastasia came to check on him. “Bleep-Blorp?” Anastasia asked, “Are you alright?” “No” Bleep-Blorp replied, “When I came in, everyone was laughing and pointing and whispering, and I got so scared. They hate me Anastasia, really!” Anastasia laughed kindly, “They don't hate you, so get that right out of your head! I was talking with my friends, and classmates, and they were talking about how awesome you were! They were staring and whispering because you are so incredible, Bleep-Blorp! You don't need to worry.” Bleep-Blorp sniffed, and said, “Really? You really mean it?” “Yes, of course!” Anastasia said, “You are incredible, Bleep-Blorp. Don't let anyone change that. Now come on, we've got a class to get to!” Bleep-Blorp smiled as wide as his robot face could smile, and they walked off to their next class, ready to start a new era in Bleep-Blorp's life.

total words: 440 words

Daily 19: 543 words


That day, the day before my birthday, my friend gave me a napkin.

I wondered why she had done that, or what that stain on it was. All I know is that she had me a napkin, and what had happened the past few days before.

“Chloe!!” She runs up behind me on a Monday. She doubles over to catch her breath, and she stands right up again. “Sorry I was late! I overslept!”
“Staying up all night trying to catch up with that geography homework?” I say conversationally.
“yeah!” She grins. “Who knew Geography would be so hard this term!”

We smiled and both of us skipped into school.

Later that day, the new girl Jenny, the girl we made friends with, joined us at the rec, eating a packet of breadsticks and drinking flavoured water, as she always did. “Hi, Nikki!” She waves at my friend. Jenny completely ignored me; I stayed silent.
“Hi, Jenny!” my friend said, “Can I have some of your breadsticks?”
“Sure!” Jenny says and offers my friend a breadstick.
“Can I have a breadstick?” I peep. Jenny turns to me and frowns.
“Uhm-” She peered down at her packet., “I don't think I have any left… um…. sorry… what's your name?”

“Um, Chloe,” I replied awkwardly. I stick my hands in my pocket and shuffle my feet. “And it's okay.

Tuesday my friend didn't come and get me at the school gates.
”Where were you?“ I ask her at the rec. She shrugs.
”I was early, remember? Oh look, it's Jenny,“ She waves over to Jenny who had just come out of the canteen. ”Hi, Jenny! How's it going?“
”Hi, Jenny!“ I echoed.
Jenny only looks in my friend's direction. ”Hi, Nikki! I got some strawberry laces for the two of us today.“ She offers a whole packet from her lunch bag and my friend and Nikki tuck into some.
I try to creep closer.

”Um, may I have some of those as well?“ I whisper to Jenny. She turns to me and scowls.
”I think this is reserved for me and my friend alone. Get lost.“ She spat. She links her arms with my friend and sniffs. My friend shrugs apologetically.
And the two of them walk away, leaving me standing dumbfounded.

On Wednesday and Thursday, Jenny couldn't talk to me. On Wednesday she tried to walk over to me, but Jenny would then drag her back (not literally) and start whispering in her ear and pointing subtly at me. I sat alone at lunches, with no one to share my snacks with.

On Friday, Nikki finally went to talk to me.
”It's your birthday tomorrow.“ She grumbles, with a snickering Jenny by her side. ”But of course, it's Jenny's as well.“
”Really?“ I ask, trying to sound chirpy. ”That's nice!“
Jenny scoffs. ”No. It's just you trying to steal my spotlight.“
”I'll give you a birthday present though, so be grateful. “Nikki continues gloomily. She tosses a napkin at my face. ”Happy birthday. It's got strawberry lace on it.“
I peel the dirty napkin off my face. ”Thank y-“ I try to say.
”Get lost." Said Nikki and Jenny simultaneously. They link arms with each other, and walk away, leaving me lost and broken.

Write about a napkin meaning denial!

NickName - Ava
Content - November 19th Daily
Word Count - 635/400
Topic - Represent a weed as in mourning
Cabin - Thriller

LET'S GET STARTED

It had only been a week since Mirana had passed.
No, it had already been a week. Yet no one seemed to be happy anymore.

Mirana was the light and hope of our village. With her kind blue eyes, she could cheer up anyone. And when that horrible man came that day, we knew something felt wrong. We shouldn't have let him come in. We shouldn't have let any city folks into our village. Into our home. But Mirana, being so kind, held the doors wide open for them.
Apparently, over the last month, our village has become quite famous. After our builder, Guiler made that beautiful statue, we've gone world famous somehow. We worship the greek gods. Guiler made a statue of Demeter, and we were blessed with fertility and good crops. A helicopter had flown over us two days after the building of the great statue. A curious figure stood at the edge of the helicopter, one hand holding the rail connected to a gap in the wall of the helicopter, and the other holding a camera. Goodness knows how. Wasn't he scared he might fall? And why was there a gap in the helicopter? Wasn't that dangerous? City folks, I swear…

The statue blew up on the internet, and when the tourists flocked, our village head let the praise get to his, well, head. He let them in, and that was where the problem started. When the man saw Mirana, he tried to take her away for some reason. Mirana kicked and flailed, and suddenly she bit him. The man let her go tumbling, and Mirana… broke her head…

I sobbed, recollecting the activities. I sat at our beach, my knees pressed closely towards me, trying to envision anything which could have changed the outcome. The waves washed in, and I watched as the crabs quickly ran around. Today was the day we were going to burn her (guys I'm Hindu ok-). Her body would go back to nature from where she came from. It almost seemed as if Mirana was created by mother nature herself. Her beautiful long dark hair, her soothing voice, her pretty smile, and those wonderful blue eyes. I had dark hair up to my shoulders, brown eyes, and got constantly teased.
I could never be like my sister.

This time, the waves reached me. They slightly wet my pants, and something floated to me.
A weed.
I looked at it curiously. It wasn't like any other plants I had seen out here. What was a weed doing in the sea? And it was marvelously beautiful by weed standards.
I picked it up in my hand as the village conch sounded. I walked to the middle of the village. The head had been demoted, and my aunt had been elected as the new head. She picked up Mirana on a handmade stretcher with the help of my father, my mother, and her husband. New tears flooded my eyes as they placed her on the ground and got the flame ready. They covered her with a cloth.
I signaled them to stop. They jerked back before the flame could touch the cloth. I ran to Mirana's body and struggled to look at her helpless face. I kissed her forehead and placed the weed on her chest. An extraordinary weed with an extraordinary sister.
The torch bearers gave me a confused look, but I just shook my head and signaled them to go on, not trying to stop the tears from falling down my cheeks.

The whole village mourned in complete silence as the cloth caught flame. For fifteen minutes we sat there, watching the flames cover every corner of the white sheet before it died out.

I put my face in my hands and rolled into a ball.
Never would I be able to look at a weed again.

Daily for the 19th!

write about a necklace that stands for the concept of desire.

t/w: drowning

My eyes shined as I glanced greedily at the necklace.

The necklace was a thing of pure beauty, with 3 shiny red rubies sitting proudly at the center. Pearls adorned the neckline, wrapping around the necklace. The necklace itself stood on a small pedestal sheltered by a glass display window.

I tapped the glass eagerly. I wanted that necklace. I stood up straight, smoothed my gown, and prepared my pouty face.

“Daddy! Can you please please please get me that necklace!?” I whined.

My dad, a 57 year old Lord, glanced at the necklace, his eyes bulged as he saw the price, “Darling, why ever would you want something so… expensive. You have similar jewelry already, and one's that are much more extravagant.”

I sniffled, and put my hands on my hips, "But there's something about this that just makes me need it. Please?!? It's my birthday in a week anyways, think of this as one of birthday gifts crossed off the already long list!“

He eyed the piece, ”For something so expensive it could even be fake! Who knows? Maybe it's cursed.“

I gave him a look, ”Why would anyone curse a necklace?"

I kept begging him till he finally agreed.

The shopkeeper had recognized us as the owner of the Manor that stood at the top of a cliff, he then told us a rather strange story:

Our manor overlooked the Florian sea, named after a sea explorer of the olden times, Captain Florian sailed the vast sea that no one dared to. His greatest discovery was not the lands and islands he found while exploring, or the treasure that awaited him in the glistening waters of the ocean, but a living creature itself, a mermaid.

Legend has it that that mermaid, was the last of her kind. Legend also has it that Captain Florian and the mermaid soon fell in love, but war in the captain's homeland had caused him to go back and leave his loved one to protect his people. As a goodbye gift, the mermaid had given him something to remember her by. A gift that will soon bring him back to her once the war ended. But he never came back, he was soon killed in battle. The mermaid, heartbroken, made sure the seas never stayed calm again. She blamed humanity for the death of her loved one. Any salior who dared to cross the ocean would be dead by the time their ship left the bay. Their ship would be caught in an enchanted storm and pulled into the darkest depths of the ocean. The mermaid never was seen again, all that was left of her, was the so called ‘storm’.

The story was quite chilling, I had been told of it since I was a child, I had obviously thought it was just a child's tale. I've been to the sea many times and never once has my ship sunk. This was incontrovertible proof that the story was in fact just a story.

When we got home, I ran to my room and searched through the bags of stuff the butler had brought into my room. I quickly found the necklace.

In glee, I put it on and admired myself in the mirror.

| nightfall

I watched from the sea, the full moon had arisen, but its light didn't please me. I was waiting. I waited and waited till I saw a bright red glow moving across the beach.

The brilliant light got closer and closer, till I could tell it was in the sea itself. Finally, I could take a look at my catch.

A girl this time. She was young, probably of marriage age, she featured nice long blond curls and wore a beautiful night gown. I smiled, this girl will be missed. Currently she was asleep, sleep swimming towards me. I snapped my fingers to wake her.

| At sea

I'm drowning. My lungs fill with water. I look around me desperately and scream under the water. There in front of me was a ugly mermaid. Her hair was mangled, her skin was pruned from being in the water for too long, and her smile. It was a smile full of glee and satisfaction.

She lunged at me and I tried to break away from her firm grip. We battled in the water, but I knew it was a lost cause. I was losing breath. My lungs were burning from the salty water.

The mermaid lunged at my neck and I heard a loud pop. She pushed me into the darkness of the deep sea. A floated down- giving up. I took one last look at her- in her hands was my necklace.

I stopped trying. I let the water drown me. Yet in my last moments of life I remembered something.

The shopkeeper's legend.

–

I had fun with this daily tho I think I sort of rushed at the last minute since it was getting long so I have no idea if there are any grammar mistakes or scenes that don't make sense :')

11/19 (547 words): Metaphors and symbolism are common literary devices, but they can become quite a cliche. Fire for destruction, roses for love, light for hope, some symbols can be overused to the point they seem uncreative. To circumvent this cliche, visit this project ( https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/756858370/ ), and generate a random object and a concept that that object should symbolize in your writing. The harder it is to draw a connection between your concept and object, the better! 400 words for 400 points, and an additional 100 points for sharing your writing.

I got: a cassette tape that represents the concept of romantic love.
Peter Quill fanfic time >)
(ignore the fact that i completely ruined gamora)

“Gamora!”
The sound of crashing boxes soon followed.
“Where’s my cassette tape?!”
“Your what?!” I yelled back.
What in the world is a cassette tape? I wondered.
Peter Quill stepped out of a closet and brushed back his brown hair. The action, however, caused even more boxes to come falling down. Despite his attempts to fix his hair, it remained ruffled, and his light brown eyes flickered with annoyance. He looked fairly disheveled with his loose, dark red jacket and sideways-slanted belt. He flashed a weary grin as he held the boxes back so that they wouldn’t spill out onto the spaceship floor.
“My cassette tape,” he stated, as if nothing had happened.
I blinked.
“You know,” he added, grunting, “the thing I always carry around with me.”
“I’m not following.”
Peter sighed. “The thing that has the music I play.”
My eyes widened. “Oh, that thing!”
Peter held the boxes with one hand to ran one down his face, which made the boxes he were holding back finally spill. He yelped as he was swept along with the boxes, making him slide across the floor as though he was caught in an ocean’s current.
Grunting, he dusted himself off and stood up.
“So,” he said. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Do you happen to know where it is?”
I paused, thinking. “Nope.”
Peter sighed. “It’s been gone ever since Drax, Mantis, and Nebula left to get… something. Do you think they might have it?”
I shrugged. “Even if they did, I don’t think they’d know what you were talking about.”
Peter sat down into a nearby bench, his shoulders slumped. “My mother gave it to me.”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll find it soon.”
He pushed away my hand and scoffed. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Suddenly, his eyes brightened, and he straightened his posture. “Anyways, we have that dance you should be preparing for.”
He waved his finger at me as he said it.
“What do you mean?” I said, setting my hands on my hips defensively.
“Well, you’re not the best dancer.”
“Take that back, Quill!”
We chased each other around the spaceship, sprinting and hiding as we laughed. It soon became a game that resembled hide and seek, and somehow we ended on top of each other.
We stayed there for a while, feeling the rise and fall of our chests as we grinned.
I was the first to break the silence and moved away.
“That was…”
Peter grinned. “Fun?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “Fun.”
Peter’s eyes locked onto something behind me, and his smile grew.
“There’s the cassette tape!”
I turned and saw the cassette tape lying and the floor near us.
Peter went over to it and grabbed it.
“Huh,” he said. “I thought I looked everywhere for this.”
Suddenly, we heard the famialir sound of the spaceship’s gate opening.
“That must be Drax, Nebula, and Mantis,” I said.
Peter left the cassette tape and helped me up.
As we went to greet them, I stopped and looked back at the cassette tape. It was still lying there, in the same spot, of course; it would be alarming if it wasn’t.
The light caught on it, making it sparkle.
It almost looked like it was smiling.

Inevitable, a scrapped writing comp entry
(An excerpt from my NaNoWriMo, 1982 words)

TW: VIOLENCE, DEATH

Lynn

My father had trained me to f!ght at the age of five, but even after twelve more tireless years of training, I was never prepared for what lay ahead of me.
I crouched behind a flipped table, gxn cocked and bxllets whistling past my ears. The rhythmic banging of bxllets and my heavy breathing sounded almost like a song, one that I knew all too well. It was so familiar it was almost comforting as I tried to calm my rapidly increasing heart rate. As I risked a glance past the table, a bxllet narrowly missed my head, so I decided that it would be better to stay put. I looked to the sky and leaned against the table.
This is what I get for going on a mission before the ball, I thought, annoyed.
Sighing, I blew a strand of hair out of my face and turned to face the bxttle in front of me. I quickly a!med at the closest guy and f!red, before swiftly moving back into the safety of the table. The sound of a sharp inhale and the thud of him falling to the ground signaled that my mark had been true.
I eyed my surroundings, searching to see if anyone was creeping up on me. When the coast was clear, I rolled to the right, whipped out my p!stol, and shot before moving to a spot behind a nearby pillar.
Alert, I whipped my head around and scanned the vicinity for the sign of more threats. My breath caught when I heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching from somewhere behind me. I turned to face them, but before I could even reach for my p!stol’s trigger, my assailant hit me on the head with the butt of their gxn. I yelped and crumpled to the cold, hard pavement. The last thing I saw was the stranger’s smug smirk before everything faded to black.

“…Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” a voice whispered.
The words sounded as though the speaker was moving back and forth, each word’s syllables changing in volume constantly.
I felt someone grab my limp body and gently place me into their arms. My head lolled back and forth as the person walked, their pace slow and steady as they carried me.
After a while, I felt myself gradually getting lulled to sleep, mesmerized with the soft intakes and exhales of their breathing and the way their shoes echoed across the pavement with each step.

“Princess,” a voice said. It sounded faint, as though the speaker was far away.
I groaned and tried to remember what had happened a few moments before, but I could barely think.
“Princess, can you hear me?”
This time it was slightly louder, the words more distinct and articulate.
“Lynn,” the voice said, more demanding now, “wake up!”
My eyes fluttered open, and I struggled to sit up.
“What?” I muttered groggily as I rubbed my weary eyes.
After blinking repeatedly for a while, I opened my eyes and squinted at the bright sunlight. I stared through the small crevice in my eyes at the figure in front of me. I could easily tell that it was my best friend and guard, Harry Maude, with his characteristic messy, strawberry blonde hair and honey brown eyes. He looked distinguished wearing a black suit and tie with matching slacks.
“Oh, finally,” he said, relieved. “The ball starts in less than five minutes! You have to get ready!”

Harry

Lynn’s eyes widened, and she jumped to her feet, suddenly awake, as I left to give her some privacy.
I shut the door and stood outside, facing the wall like a stoic castle guard, which of course, I was.
Trying to pass the time, I flipped over my wrist and checked the time on my watch. It was two minutes before the ball started.
About a minute later, a guard came and stepped towards me.
“Tell Princess Lynette she’s on in a minute,” he said, before going back towards the grand, ornate double doors that led to the ballroom and facing them.
I gave a brief knock before opening the door and popping my head inside.
“Lynn, it’s almost time!” I hissed.
“Coming!” she said as she grabbed a hair tie that was hanging in her mouth and finished doing her hair.
She was draped in a pale green, floor-length dress that complimented her eyes, and her light brown hair with blonde streaks was pulled into a messy bun. She was also wearing silk, ivory, elbow-length gloves that went well with her outfit. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, but she didn’t seem to think so; she kept rearranging the layers of her skirt and fixing her hair.
Lynn grabbed the tiara on her dresser, placed it on her head, and rushed out the door.
“Do I look okay? I wasn’t sure if-”
She suddenly stopped when a muffled voice shouted, “Princess Lynette from the kingdom of Carugo!”
Lynn took a deep breath, straightened her tiara, and walked up to the doors. I followed her, standing at her side, since she had chosen me to be her escort for the ball. Her heels clicked against the tile floor as they opened, revealing the thousands of people looking up at us. At the far end of the room, fairly conspicuous compared to the others around them, was King Roland and Queen Emeline of Carugo. I reminded myself that they were also Lynn’s father and stepmother. The queen had on a golden gown, while the king had on a matching gold suit, tie, and pants with a white undershirt.
There was a silver chandelier with golden jewels that hung above the center of the room, and red, velvet curtains that hung around the elaborate, glass windows. The light from the sunset shone through the windows, making both the chandelier and windows sparkle.
Lynn and I stepped forward and watched the crowd of people below us. We linked our arms and descended down the stairs. Lynn had a serious expression on her face, but I had known her too long and knew that deep down she was actually really nervous.
After the crowd’s attention switched from us, we dropped our arms and stood there awkwardly. Lynn was the first to look away, and in doing so, saw her parents. She looked back towards me, unsure.
“I’ll meet up with you later,” I said, nodding.
“Alright,” she said hesitantly before heading towards the king and queen.

Lynn

“What took you so long?” Harry joked as he walked towards me, his hands in his pockets.
I smiled as Harry elbowed me playfully. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really,” I replied.
“Well, I am,” he said, smirking. “Let’s go get some food.”
As I walked with Harry to the concession stand, I tried to ignore the thrashing of my skull. It felt as though someone had stabbed it with a knife and took it out again. Trust me, I knew how that felt. But I couldn’t muster the courage to tell someone. Besides, it was probably just a headache.
But even the pain wasn’t the most important thing on my mind. What was worse was the fact that I had no memory of the past few events. All I could remember was going on a mission sent by my father, and then… nothing. I was just lying in my bedroom as Harry jostled me awake.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, before wincing. I had realized too late that moving my head more than normal was a bad idea.
Unfortunately, Harry noticed and stopped walking.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed.
I wouldn’t have felt bad for lying if it wasn’t for the concerned look on his face.
Nevertheless, I said, “Yeah.”
He still looked worried, so I gave a slight smile in hopes to reassure him and kept walking. Harry didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press me and followed.
Suddenly, alarms started blaring, penetrating my train of thought. The warm, bright light of the ballroom suddenly changed to a neon red that circled the vicinity like a police siren. At first, all I saw were people screaming and running around. Women were holding their dresses up and some took off their heels, and their husbands helped escort them. Mobs of people ran towards the exits while the guards directed them. The guards gestured and pointed their hands, looking nervous but in control. I barely noticed when Harry grabbed my waist and stepped in front of me protectively.
“What’s going on?” I shouted, trying to hear myself over the noise and my head’s throbbing.
“I don’t know!” he shouted back.
That’s when I saw him.
A man, dressed in all black, stood in the center of the room. He lingered right beneath the crystal chandelier, his eyes and the gxn in his hands set on the figures in front of him: the queen and king.
I gasped and started running towards them, but Harry held me back.
“No, Lynette!” he ordered. “It’s not safe!”
“Well, they aren’t either!” I retorted.
By then, most people had gone through the exits, and the guards stood by their posts, gxns in hand.
The sight of my father stepping protectively in front of my stepmother made me wriggle out of Harry’s grasp and reach for the secret pocket on my dress that housed my p!stol. But just then, I locked eyes with my father. His expression remained emotionless, but I could see that he didn’t want me to save him.
I realized then and there that pulling out my p!stol would blow my cover.
When I was five years old, my father trained me to f!ght. I could hit the bullseye on a target every time when I was six, and I was a skilled axxaxxin at seven. When I was about eight years old, my father had married my stepmother. We welcomed her into the family, and she welcomed me. That’s when my father and I started training in secret. My father admitted that he hadn’t told my stepmother about our “special talents”, as he liked to call it, and wasn’t planning on either. So, he started training me even harder, all the way to the age of sixteen. Even now, at seventeen, he still trains me, and we practice at a secluded area in the castle daily at midnight. Every guard thinks that he takes me on a late night stroll through the garden.
Ever since my mother was mxrdered on my fourth birthday, my father had grown bitter. He thought that training me to fight would prepare me and maybe stop more innocent loved ones from suffering the same fate.
Anyways, taking out a wxapon and showing the world what I could do? Bad idea, especially with my publicity and being the future queen. It was probably what he had thought of too, but I just couldn’t leave him there to die. But I had no choice. Even he was stuck.
We were both trapped.
I dropped my hand from the hidden pocket and bit my lip.
“Fine, take me back to my room,” I said, defeated.
Harry looked surprised at the sudden attitude change. Even the aching of my head lowered for a few seconds, as if the pain was perplexed as well.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Positive,” I lied.
I looked back towards my father. He caught my gaze, held it, and nodded. He looked proud. For what, I’m not sure. I didn’t think running away from danger was something that should be celebrated, especially when you know you can fight it. And win.
I blinked away my tears and looked away.
“Let’s go,” I said.
The nearest guards beckoned towards us, moving their hands quickly as a show for us to hurry. We ran, and for once I didn’t look back.

The Cassette Tape, a Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic
(547 words)

“Gamora!”
The sound of crashing boxes soon followed.
“Where’s my cassette tape?!”
“Your what?!” I yelled back.
What in the world is a cassette tape? I wondered.
Peter Quill stepped out of a closet and brushed back his brown hair. The action, however, caused even more boxes to come falling down. Despite his attempts to fix his hair, it remained ruffled, and his light brown eyes flickered with annoyance. He looked fairly disheveled with his loose, dark red jacket and sideways-slanted belt. He flashed a weary grin as he held the boxes back so that they wouldn’t spill out onto the spaceship floor.
“My cassette tape,” he stated, as if nothing had happened.
I blinked.
“You know,” he added, grunting, “the thing I always carry around with me.”
“I’m not following.”
Peter sighed. “The thing that has the music I play.”
My eyes widened. “Oh, that thing!”
Peter held the boxes with one hand to ran one down his face, which made the boxes he were holding back finally spill. He yelped as he was swept along with the boxes, making him slide across the floor as though he was caught in an ocean’s current.
Grunting, he dusted himself off and stood up.
“So,” he said. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Do you happen to know where it is?”
I paused, thinking. “Nope.”
Peter sighed. “It’s been gone ever since Drax, Mantis, and Nebula left to get… something. Do you think they might have it?”
I shrugged. “Even if they did, I don’t think they’d know what you were talking about.”
Peter sat down into a nearby bench, his shoulders slumped. “My mother gave it to me.”
I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll find it soon.”
He pushed away my hand and scoffed. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Suddenly, his eyes brightened, and he straightened his posture. “Anyways, we have that dance you should be preparing for.”
He waved his finger at me as he said it.
“What do you mean?” I said, setting my hands on my hips defensively.
“Well, you’re not the best dancer.”
“Take that back, Quill!”
We chased each other around the spaceship, sprinting and hiding as we laughed. It soon became a game that resembled hide and seek, and somehow we ended on top of each other.
We stayed there for a while, feeling the rise and fall of our chests as we grinned.
I was the first to break the silence and moved away.
“That was…”
Peter grinned. “Fun?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “Fun.”
Peter’s eyes locked onto something behind me, and his smile grew.
“There’s the cassette tape!”
I turned and saw the cassette tape lying and the floor near us.
Peter went over to it and grabbed it.
“Huh,” he said. “I thought I looked everywhere for this.”
Suddenly, we heard the famialir sound of the spaceship’s gate opening.
“That must be Drax, Nebula, and Mantis,” I said.
Peter left the cassette tape and helped me up.
As we went to greet them, I stopped and looked back at the cassette tape. It was still lying there, in the same spot, of course; it would be alarming if it wasn’t.
The light caught on it, making it sparkle.
It almost looked like it was smiling.

WEEKLY THREEE WOOOOOO

Part 1 - Done! however my schedule is private </3. I did eisenhower's matrix!

Part 2 - ok, I did time Pressure. I gave dares and is waiting for some replies…

Edit: got the replies! https://scratch.mit.edu/studios/32408800/comments/#comments-203604188

Part 3 - Exercise, Read, Turn Devices Off

1) Exercise is really important for your health. Everyone knows lying on the couch watching YouTube isn't good for you. Sure, it can provide tons entertainment, but what is really good for your body?
Staying fit is an important part of life. When you huff and puff after a long round of jogging, your lungs work harder and your heart beats faster and stronger, making you more healthy and flexible. It can also distract you from a bad day. I always like to have a bike ride in the cool nature when I’m not doing so well. Exercising can help you take your mind off of things and stay healthy and strong. Reading can help you stay calm too. After a good workout you can sit back, relax, and have a nice read. The action and suspense in books can really help you cool down and fly to another world. This is especially if you have a lot of things going on.
Turning your devices off is also important to your health too. Society and social media could put stress on you, and the bright lights of a device can also hurt your eyes. If you ever close a device and look in the mirror and see that your face looks purple (this is because of your vision), you've been online too long! A device can also waste your time.. would you rather watch YouTube or do your homework and get a good grade?

DONE

November 19 daily (494 words):

Sally had always been grateful to her parents. As an only child, she had received the maximum of her parents’ love since her birth. However, after her former best friend Lilly moved away and cut off all contact with her, Sally felt terrible. She fell into a deep, dark hole of depression and could not escape. Each day was spent laying in the comfort of her twin-sized bed, curled up under the blankets. She hated the mention of school, herself, and most of all, Lilly. Not even her mother’s baked pastries nor her father’s delicious bacon could lift her mood. That wasn’t to say Sally’s parents hadn’t tried to make her feel better. In the mornings, no matter how exhausted they felt, they would hug her softly. After work, they always made sure to spend time with Sally, asking what they could do for her. Sally was extremely guilty, believing everything was her fault, so she withdrew herself even from her parents, the ones who cared the most about her. Unbeknownst to Sally, her parents had been taking care of her garden of periwinkles, daisies, and lilies. Sally had abandoned her garden because of its constant reminder of Lily. Her mother and father were worried about Sally and thought that reviving the garden would serve as a good wake-up call for her. Each week, they took turns shoveling away the weeds, dirt flying in the air. They gently poured water for the flowers to drink. The dirt became more fertile as the flowers grew healthier. The periwinkles became a vibrant purple and the daisies a pure white. Sally’s parents knew the lilies might sadden Sally, so they moved them to a small grassy area behind their backyard’s peach tree. Finally, the day came when it was time for them to surprise Sally. It was Sally’s fourteenth birthday, June 21. Her mother and father had prepared the garden so that it was in the best shape it had ever been. The garden was in its utter prime. To their delight, Sally flew out of bed, raced downstairs, and launched herself out the backyard door, her eyes filled with a new enthusiasm. Seeing the beautiful garden restored by her parents, she grinned happily and laid down on the fresh dirt next to the flowers, inhaling the sweet, fragrant scent.
“Thank you,” Sally said, smiling.
These were the first words Sally had spoken since her depression. Her parents gaped at her in disbelief, not knowing whether they were dreaming or not. She had only responded with nods or shakes of her head after Lilly left. Slowly, their faces began to show traces of their joy. They rushed to her side and laid down beside her in the dirt, laughing and crying. The flowers seemed to amplify their excitement, as Sally was hugged fervently by her parents, whose happy tears soaked into Sally’s shirt. Between them, Sally smiled sadly. She didn’t realize her parents loved her so much.