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- smalltoe
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
Daily for the 24th :)
It was July when I met you. The middle of winter; although it wasn’t too cold. Mostly raining. I was wearing a soaked-through jacket and you had a woolly hat, your glasses speckled with raindrops, yet you still stubbornly kept them on. We huddled under the shelter together, and despite the cold, despite the rain, I was warm.
It’s July again now. But it's all wrong; it's summer now. The sun is shining through threadbare clouds, but there’s no birdsong in the background, and instead of seeing towering forested hills from the window, I only see apartment buildings. We were so excited to come to America - a new place, a new start. Only it's not so great after all.
I would look forward to the days I’d see you all week when we first knew each other. I would go through the photos we took every day, a smile painted all over my face. And despite the wind, the rain, the cold of July, I treasured every moment I had with you. If I had a hard day at school, you would listen to me, you would save me. You were the strings that held me together You were my anchor.
The summer July isn’t the only thing wrong about this place - since we came here, I’ve barely heard you talk at all. And now the time’s ticking closer to the time you leave. I don’t think I can bear seeing you at the airport, bags in hand. It would break me.
July soon ended - and although it was still winter, the cold was less cold, the wind less strong, the rain no longer pouring down in sheets, reduced only to a grizzly drizzle. I stole your hat a few times; I stole your glasses too, although they didn’t fit me nearly as well as the hat did. A few days it was almost sunny. I remember one of them; we were sitting on the grass, talking. Not about anything in particular, just talking. You looked so pretty with the sun shining on your face. I wanted the moment to last forever.
Instead, I flick my phone on. It's been in my hand the whole time. But I’ve been too scared to call you.
I text you instead. A brief message, a short one. I was tempted to type out something longer, something meaningful, something you deserve. But you never did read long messages. So I only send one word.
I hope you understand how much I care, how much I’m thinking about you, how I’ve typed out nearly a hundred words before I settled on only one.
Goodbye.
(the italicized parts partly inspired by my irl life events hehe <3)
It was July when I met you. The middle of winter; although it wasn’t too cold. Mostly raining. I was wearing a soaked-through jacket and you had a woolly hat, your glasses speckled with raindrops, yet you still stubbornly kept them on. We huddled under the shelter together, and despite the cold, despite the rain, I was warm.
It’s July again now. But it's all wrong; it's summer now. The sun is shining through threadbare clouds, but there’s no birdsong in the background, and instead of seeing towering forested hills from the window, I only see apartment buildings. We were so excited to come to America - a new place, a new start. Only it's not so great after all.
I would look forward to the days I’d see you all week when we first knew each other. I would go through the photos we took every day, a smile painted all over my face. And despite the wind, the rain, the cold of July, I treasured every moment I had with you. If I had a hard day at school, you would listen to me, you would save me. You were the strings that held me together You were my anchor.
The summer July isn’t the only thing wrong about this place - since we came here, I’ve barely heard you talk at all. And now the time’s ticking closer to the time you leave. I don’t think I can bear seeing you at the airport, bags in hand. It would break me.
July soon ended - and although it was still winter, the cold was less cold, the wind less strong, the rain no longer pouring down in sheets, reduced only to a grizzly drizzle. I stole your hat a few times; I stole your glasses too, although they didn’t fit me nearly as well as the hat did. A few days it was almost sunny. I remember one of them; we were sitting on the grass, talking. Not about anything in particular, just talking. You looked so pretty with the sun shining on your face. I wanted the moment to last forever.
Instead, I flick my phone on. It's been in my hand the whole time. But I’ve been too scared to call you.
I text you instead. A brief message, a short one. I was tempted to type out something longer, something meaningful, something you deserve. But you never did read long messages. So I only send one word.
I hope you understand how much I care, how much I’m thinking about you, how I’ve typed out nearly a hundred words before I settled on only one.
Goodbye.
(the italicized parts partly inspired by my irl life events hehe <3)
ave, she/they
- cxtton-moon
-
Scratcher
24 posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
da last weekly!!!!!
submission code: Your Journey: horror, option #1, adventure, option #1, mystery, option #1, poetry, option #1, realfi, option #1, scifi, option #1, thriller, option #1, fanfi, option #1, hifi, option #1, bifi, option #1, dystopian, option #1, nonfi, option #1, folklore, option #1, script, option #1, fantasy, option #1
LET'S GET STARTED!!!!!!!!!!
to begin, 100 words - 100 words exactly!
The moment you opened the door, you regretted it. It was filled with dust, and you coughed and hacked until it went away. Light spilled through the large windows, illuminating the room. Suddenly, you gasp. This room… it was unlike any other you had ever seen. It was beautiful, exquisite, one of a kind. Enormous bookshelves covered every wall, filled up with large volumes, and encyclopedias. An old trunk lays in front of you, and you cautiously step toward it. You get down on your knees and open it, and when you look inside it, your breath is taken away.
describe somebody putting on a mask - literally or metaphorically - 150 words
This masquerade he put me in, this life I've been living - it's all a lie. He put on a mask, one that would make me think I knew who he was. My mind keeps going back to that day, when I finally took down his mask, when he finally admitted who he was. He finally showed his true self. I would never see him in the same way again. He was a killer, a fugitive. When the mask left his face, I will never again be able to look at him. Blood, scars, burns… covering his face, his sanity slowly slipping away.
write about a challenging obstacle your character has to face relating to the setting - 100 words
Jagged rocks stood all around the water, ready for whomever fell off the mountain. Rather, me. My enemies were slowly pushing closer and closer to me, and I was scared. I didn't have much time left, so I needed to make a choice: sacrifice myself, die a warrior's death, or surrender. I took a deep breath, and then chose went over my options. The vines were slowly creeping near, wrapping around my feet. I wasn't ready. Not for death. And suddenly, I didn't have to choose. Light blared from above, and suddenly, I had an entire army fighting with me.
epiphany time! your character realizes something important - 125 words
“Ah, but dear Annie, you've overlooked one terribly important clue.” The man said, seriously. “What?” Annie asked, curious. "You've overlooked why one would commit such a crime. You've overlooked such a simple idea. You've overlooked the motive.“ The man said. Annie pondered for a moment, in a way all twelve year old prodigies would, and then turned pale. ”You.“ Annie said, ”It was you. YOU committed the crime! YOU betrayed everyone!“ Annie slowly backed away, and the man laughed, and said, ”Oh Annie. There's no way out now. You may as well surrender now, and come to our side.“ ”NEVER!" Annie yelled. She ran as fast as her little legs would carry her, and then ended up back in her house, safe.
write about a character in isolation - how do they react? - 150 words
In the horribly silent room, Addy could feel her sanity slowly slipping away. She began to see stars, and the room began to blur and wave in front of her. Addy gasped for breath, and her vision slowly cleared. This isolation room was making her go crazy. They had locked her in for that exact reason. Insanity. If she didn't surrender, and give them what they wanted, they would keep her in this room until she went crazy. Addy wasn't sure who they were. She just knew she wanted to get out of there. But Addy wasn't even sure what answers they wanted! She knew nothing. She was just a young girl with big dreams. Sure, she was smart, and sure, she had gotten into a prestigious university though she was only eleven, but what did they want? Suddenly, a though dawned, on her, and Addy froze. They wanted her.
build up a happy story, and then - plot twist! - 150 words
Sitting by the fireplace, Olivia had a warm blanket wrapped around her and held a hot mug of hot cocoa. She lifted the mug to her lips, and took a long sip. She took a deep breath. She was safe now. The old couple walked over to her and sat down next to Olivia. “Thank you so much,” Olivia said, softly, “You've been so kind to me.” The couple smiled. “It was the least we could do, considering you saved our only son from dying.” The man said. They sat by the fireplace and talked for a while, until the night was late, and then Olivia went to her bed, which was a lovely guest room. As Olivia slowly settled down to sleep, she felt a churning in her stomach that quickly accelerated to a piercing pain. And then she realized; the couple, the hot cocoa. She had been poisoned.
gasp! your character gets deja vu or a premonition - 150 words
Maleya suddenly found herself in some sort of… garden. It was beautiful, with arches covered in roses, dahlias, lilacs, and more. There were bushes and hedges placed so well, and there were flowers spilling out of cracks in the walls surrounding this incredible place. Maleya was in shock. Where was she? Maleya couldn't imagine why, but… she could remember this place. Had she been here before? She told herself she hadn't, and that it was impossible she had been to such a breathtaking, such an exquisite place, but that nagging feeling stayed with her. It was a sense of deja vu, though much stronger. Maleya took a deep breath and tried to forget about her “memories” of the garden, but she ended up just thinking about it more. She searched her memories, searched her soul, but she couldn't remember. And then it hit her. This garden… was in her dreams.
your character starts sinking - 150 words
I am an sitting on a cloud, something only we fairies can do. Clouds are light and fluffy, soft, beautiful and exquisite. It feels like your floating, both literally and metaphorically. You are floating a way from your problems with a sense of calm and freedom, and you feel like you are floating on air. Which you are, in a way. Suddenly, without warning, I begin to sink through my cloud. What was happening? You only sink and fall through your cloud when you are being banished from the fairies, which has only happened twice. Was I getting banished? It seemed so. “No!” My best friend Marjorie yelled, grabbing my hand and trying to pull me up, but to no avail. My hand slowly slipped out of her hand, and I began to fall. Falling faster then ever before, I held on to everything I knew with all I could.
timeline change! write a quick flashback - 150 words
My memories got the best of me. Suddenly, I was getting sucked into the past, sucked into memories I didn't want to remember. Into one specifically. The day of my sister's death. I remember sitting by her bedside, my tears spilling onto her body, and her coughing, her hacking and wheezing, her trying to hang on. She tried so hard. A few years younger then me, I was the older sister. I was supposed to protect her. But I couldn't. I let her down. Even though it was an unexplained illness that killed her, I still feel responsible. I was the older one, the mature one. I remember her last words even now; her saying, “It's not your fault Avery. Never let your guilt get the best of you. I know you take everything so hard. Just know that I love you. I will always.” Then her eyes closed, forever.
remember a time your character stole something, and then gave it back - 100 words
It was in my hands. What I had wanted all this time. And yet… I felt a nagging feeling that it wasn't meant to be. That I should give it back. This precious gemstone… I had stolen it, it was mine now, but somehow… somehow I felt it belonged to more then just me. It belonged to the public. Oh, but how I wanted it! Suddenly, I found myself creeping back towards the chaotic train car I had taken it from, placing it upon a plush, red velvet bench, and then creeping away. For once, I did the right thing.
make something - anything - absurd happen in the plot - 200 words
Ash's life was perfect. She was a beautiful young girl, with orange-red hair and innocent, blue eyes. Though she was only 14, she knew more then the average university graduate. Ash's life was perfect. She had two loving parents, two people who loved her more then anything, and promised to take care of her. She had 2 loving siblings, who were by her side in any situation, who would give their lives for her. Ash's life was perfect. She lived in a big house, with butlers and maids to wait on her, and she had a garden to escape to in hard times (hard times? What hard times?). Ash's life was perfect. That is, until she discovered something that would change her life forever. Her father was a carpenter. Or was he? One day, he went out into the woods, and Ash followed him. She saw him, not chopping wood, but going to bang a large gong with his ax. “What is he doing?” Ash muttered under her breath, confused. When Ash's father had banged the gong 3 times, little creatures began scurrying out, and towards him. “My army of animals.” he said, “Now, it's time to take over the world.”
a super-celestial being interrupts your protagonist - 150 words
Sophia fiddled with the lock, trying to get in. She couldn't imagine why she couldn't get in. This was her house, after all. She sighed, and looked around. She was going to have to climb through the window. “Great.” Sophia muttered, “now everyone's going to see me making a fool out of myself.” She sighed again, and walked towards the window, cracking it open. “Good thing I didn't lock the windows” Sophia said. She hauled her leg inside the window, and then heard her name being called out to her. She whipped around, and saw some sort of… cat? No… it wasn't a cat anymore… it was… a woman? Sophia screamed and pulled her leg out, preparing to run. “Get back!” Sophia screamed. The woman just laughed. “It's all right, Sophia.” the woman said, “My name is Bella. I'm not here to hurt you! I'm here to bring a message.”
bakers are so cool! include somebody who bakes in your story - 100 words
The jingle of the door opening startled the baker. “Oh, hello Lady Bertha” the baker said, “how may I help you? Can I interest you in some rolls? Some… cakes? Cinnamon buns?” Lady Bertha laughed, “Olive! Don't refer to me as ‘Lady’! To you, I'm just plain old Bertha.” Olive (the baker) laughed along with her. “All right, Bertha. What would you like?” “Some strong coffee,” Bertha said, “and a cinnamon bun does sound good right now. Thank you!” Olive handed a steaming cup of espresso and a cinnamon bun to Bertha. “Thank you” she said, giving Olive some coins.
incorporate a lost relic into your story - 103 words
I was walking with my brother on a path in the forest, when we stumbled across something that took my breath away. It was an ancient temple, something that had been lost to this world forever. It was Yùwū, the jade house. It was an ancient temple, which the ancient Chinese used to worship their gods. This relic had been lost to humanity for centuries, and now there was the chance to recover it. The temple was covered in jade and dusty carvings in Chinese. I leaned forward to try and read the carvings. They said, ‘Get out. As fast as you can.’
try writing the next scene without using any characters at all - 150 words
The garden was filled with enormous bushes and flourishing hedges. Flowers covered wooden arches painted white. Peonies, daisies, orchids, roses, hydrangeas, and more sprung up everywhere. Vines and seedlings peeked out from cracks in the faded brick walls surrounding the garden. Healthy, strong trees were covered in fruits and flowers. But, this garden was not what it seemed to be. Instead of colorful flowers, the flowers were faded and gray. Instead of trees being covered in apples and cherries, they were covered in a colorless fruit, one that was unlike any other. It had sharp spikes covering the outside, as though it was a shell, protecting something more important. The wooden arches began to disintegrate, and the flowers on them fell off them and onto the dead grass, immediately wilting and dying. Branches began to fall of the trees, dry and cracked leaves falling with it. This garden was dying.
introduce a boat - or a different mode of transportation - into your story - 150 words
The gallery was on the other side of these treacherous waters. How are you supposed to get across? You see a boat, that may or may not be yours, and you immediately run over there, get onto it, and start it up. A man behind you comes over and yells, “Hey! That's my boat! Police! Police! Come quick! Boat thief!” But it's too late. You're already out on open ocean. When there's no chance of going back, you realize that this might be harder then you thought. Waves toss “your” boat around, and you rock back and forth, feeling seasick. You wonder how long you can last on this sea. Suddenly, you turn pale. A pointed fin is pointing out from the water, and you know what that means. You immediately hurry up the engine, and go faster and faster. You saw a shark. You'll never make it out alive.
write 100 words to conclude your adventure as you fly away from your final planet -
You mount your horse, and trot off with her into the sunset. You are in oblivion, in a place with pure happiness. Sitting on her soft body, you are sure that life will never change, as long as your beautiful horse, Jolie, is here with you. You rub her mane affectionately, and she happily neighs. You sigh, happily. You look around at the field you are riding on, and you see the beautiful grass, wheat, and crops. They are all yours, all your family's. You and your family give them to those who don't have food. You love each other.
submission code: Your Journey: horror, option #1, adventure, option #1, mystery, option #1, poetry, option #1, realfi, option #1, scifi, option #1, thriller, option #1, fanfi, option #1, hifi, option #1, bifi, option #1, dystopian, option #1, nonfi, option #1, folklore, option #1, script, option #1, fantasy, option #1
LET'S GET STARTED!!!!!!!!!!
to begin, 100 words - 100 words exactly!
The moment you opened the door, you regretted it. It was filled with dust, and you coughed and hacked until it went away. Light spilled through the large windows, illuminating the room. Suddenly, you gasp. This room… it was unlike any other you had ever seen. It was beautiful, exquisite, one of a kind. Enormous bookshelves covered every wall, filled up with large volumes, and encyclopedias. An old trunk lays in front of you, and you cautiously step toward it. You get down on your knees and open it, and when you look inside it, your breath is taken away.
describe somebody putting on a mask - literally or metaphorically - 150 words
This masquerade he put me in, this life I've been living - it's all a lie. He put on a mask, one that would make me think I knew who he was. My mind keeps going back to that day, when I finally took down his mask, when he finally admitted who he was. He finally showed his true self. I would never see him in the same way again. He was a killer, a fugitive. When the mask left his face, I will never again be able to look at him. Blood, scars, burns… covering his face, his sanity slowly slipping away.
write about a challenging obstacle your character has to face relating to the setting - 100 words
Jagged rocks stood all around the water, ready for whomever fell off the mountain. Rather, me. My enemies were slowly pushing closer and closer to me, and I was scared. I didn't have much time left, so I needed to make a choice: sacrifice myself, die a warrior's death, or surrender. I took a deep breath, and then chose went over my options. The vines were slowly creeping near, wrapping around my feet. I wasn't ready. Not for death. And suddenly, I didn't have to choose. Light blared from above, and suddenly, I had an entire army fighting with me.
epiphany time! your character realizes something important - 125 words
“Ah, but dear Annie, you've overlooked one terribly important clue.” The man said, seriously. “What?” Annie asked, curious. "You've overlooked why one would commit such a crime. You've overlooked such a simple idea. You've overlooked the motive.“ The man said. Annie pondered for a moment, in a way all twelve year old prodigies would, and then turned pale. ”You.“ Annie said, ”It was you. YOU committed the crime! YOU betrayed everyone!“ Annie slowly backed away, and the man laughed, and said, ”Oh Annie. There's no way out now. You may as well surrender now, and come to our side.“ ”NEVER!" Annie yelled. She ran as fast as her little legs would carry her, and then ended up back in her house, safe.
write about a character in isolation - how do they react? - 150 words
In the horribly silent room, Addy could feel her sanity slowly slipping away. She began to see stars, and the room began to blur and wave in front of her. Addy gasped for breath, and her vision slowly cleared. This isolation room was making her go crazy. They had locked her in for that exact reason. Insanity. If she didn't surrender, and give them what they wanted, they would keep her in this room until she went crazy. Addy wasn't sure who they were. She just knew she wanted to get out of there. But Addy wasn't even sure what answers they wanted! She knew nothing. She was just a young girl with big dreams. Sure, she was smart, and sure, she had gotten into a prestigious university though she was only eleven, but what did they want? Suddenly, a though dawned, on her, and Addy froze. They wanted her.
build up a happy story, and then - plot twist! - 150 words
Sitting by the fireplace, Olivia had a warm blanket wrapped around her and held a hot mug of hot cocoa. She lifted the mug to her lips, and took a long sip. She took a deep breath. She was safe now. The old couple walked over to her and sat down next to Olivia. “Thank you so much,” Olivia said, softly, “You've been so kind to me.” The couple smiled. “It was the least we could do, considering you saved our only son from dying.” The man said. They sat by the fireplace and talked for a while, until the night was late, and then Olivia went to her bed, which was a lovely guest room. As Olivia slowly settled down to sleep, she felt a churning in her stomach that quickly accelerated to a piercing pain. And then she realized; the couple, the hot cocoa. She had been poisoned.
gasp! your character gets deja vu or a premonition - 150 words
Maleya suddenly found herself in some sort of… garden. It was beautiful, with arches covered in roses, dahlias, lilacs, and more. There were bushes and hedges placed so well, and there were flowers spilling out of cracks in the walls surrounding this incredible place. Maleya was in shock. Where was she? Maleya couldn't imagine why, but… she could remember this place. Had she been here before? She told herself she hadn't, and that it was impossible she had been to such a breathtaking, such an exquisite place, but that nagging feeling stayed with her. It was a sense of deja vu, though much stronger. Maleya took a deep breath and tried to forget about her “memories” of the garden, but she ended up just thinking about it more. She searched her memories, searched her soul, but she couldn't remember. And then it hit her. This garden… was in her dreams.
your character starts sinking - 150 words
I am an sitting on a cloud, something only we fairies can do. Clouds are light and fluffy, soft, beautiful and exquisite. It feels like your floating, both literally and metaphorically. You are floating a way from your problems with a sense of calm and freedom, and you feel like you are floating on air. Which you are, in a way. Suddenly, without warning, I begin to sink through my cloud. What was happening? You only sink and fall through your cloud when you are being banished from the fairies, which has only happened twice. Was I getting banished? It seemed so. “No!” My best friend Marjorie yelled, grabbing my hand and trying to pull me up, but to no avail. My hand slowly slipped out of her hand, and I began to fall. Falling faster then ever before, I held on to everything I knew with all I could.
timeline change! write a quick flashback - 150 words
My memories got the best of me. Suddenly, I was getting sucked into the past, sucked into memories I didn't want to remember. Into one specifically. The day of my sister's death. I remember sitting by her bedside, my tears spilling onto her body, and her coughing, her hacking and wheezing, her trying to hang on. She tried so hard. A few years younger then me, I was the older sister. I was supposed to protect her. But I couldn't. I let her down. Even though it was an unexplained illness that killed her, I still feel responsible. I was the older one, the mature one. I remember her last words even now; her saying, “It's not your fault Avery. Never let your guilt get the best of you. I know you take everything so hard. Just know that I love you. I will always.” Then her eyes closed, forever.
remember a time your character stole something, and then gave it back - 100 words
It was in my hands. What I had wanted all this time. And yet… I felt a nagging feeling that it wasn't meant to be. That I should give it back. This precious gemstone… I had stolen it, it was mine now, but somehow… somehow I felt it belonged to more then just me. It belonged to the public. Oh, but how I wanted it! Suddenly, I found myself creeping back towards the chaotic train car I had taken it from, placing it upon a plush, red velvet bench, and then creeping away. For once, I did the right thing.
make something - anything - absurd happen in the plot - 200 words
Ash's life was perfect. She was a beautiful young girl, with orange-red hair and innocent, blue eyes. Though she was only 14, she knew more then the average university graduate. Ash's life was perfect. She had two loving parents, two people who loved her more then anything, and promised to take care of her. She had 2 loving siblings, who were by her side in any situation, who would give their lives for her. Ash's life was perfect. She lived in a big house, with butlers and maids to wait on her, and she had a garden to escape to in hard times (hard times? What hard times?). Ash's life was perfect. That is, until she discovered something that would change her life forever. Her father was a carpenter. Or was he? One day, he went out into the woods, and Ash followed him. She saw him, not chopping wood, but going to bang a large gong with his ax. “What is he doing?” Ash muttered under her breath, confused. When Ash's father had banged the gong 3 times, little creatures began scurrying out, and towards him. “My army of animals.” he said, “Now, it's time to take over the world.”
a super-celestial being interrupts your protagonist - 150 words
Sophia fiddled with the lock, trying to get in. She couldn't imagine why she couldn't get in. This was her house, after all. She sighed, and looked around. She was going to have to climb through the window. “Great.” Sophia muttered, “now everyone's going to see me making a fool out of myself.” She sighed again, and walked towards the window, cracking it open. “Good thing I didn't lock the windows” Sophia said. She hauled her leg inside the window, and then heard her name being called out to her. She whipped around, and saw some sort of… cat? No… it wasn't a cat anymore… it was… a woman? Sophia screamed and pulled her leg out, preparing to run. “Get back!” Sophia screamed. The woman just laughed. “It's all right, Sophia.” the woman said, “My name is Bella. I'm not here to hurt you! I'm here to bring a message.”
bakers are so cool! include somebody who bakes in your story - 100 words
The jingle of the door opening startled the baker. “Oh, hello Lady Bertha” the baker said, “how may I help you? Can I interest you in some rolls? Some… cakes? Cinnamon buns?” Lady Bertha laughed, “Olive! Don't refer to me as ‘Lady’! To you, I'm just plain old Bertha.” Olive (the baker) laughed along with her. “All right, Bertha. What would you like?” “Some strong coffee,” Bertha said, “and a cinnamon bun does sound good right now. Thank you!” Olive handed a steaming cup of espresso and a cinnamon bun to Bertha. “Thank you” she said, giving Olive some coins.
incorporate a lost relic into your story - 103 words
I was walking with my brother on a path in the forest, when we stumbled across something that took my breath away. It was an ancient temple, something that had been lost to this world forever. It was Yùwū, the jade house. It was an ancient temple, which the ancient Chinese used to worship their gods. This relic had been lost to humanity for centuries, and now there was the chance to recover it. The temple was covered in jade and dusty carvings in Chinese. I leaned forward to try and read the carvings. They said, ‘Get out. As fast as you can.’
try writing the next scene without using any characters at all - 150 words
The garden was filled with enormous bushes and flourishing hedges. Flowers covered wooden arches painted white. Peonies, daisies, orchids, roses, hydrangeas, and more sprung up everywhere. Vines and seedlings peeked out from cracks in the faded brick walls surrounding the garden. Healthy, strong trees were covered in fruits and flowers. But, this garden was not what it seemed to be. Instead of colorful flowers, the flowers were faded and gray. Instead of trees being covered in apples and cherries, they were covered in a colorless fruit, one that was unlike any other. It had sharp spikes covering the outside, as though it was a shell, protecting something more important. The wooden arches began to disintegrate, and the flowers on them fell off them and onto the dead grass, immediately wilting and dying. Branches began to fall of the trees, dry and cracked leaves falling with it. This garden was dying.
introduce a boat - or a different mode of transportation - into your story - 150 words
The gallery was on the other side of these treacherous waters. How are you supposed to get across? You see a boat, that may or may not be yours, and you immediately run over there, get onto it, and start it up. A man behind you comes over and yells, “Hey! That's my boat! Police! Police! Come quick! Boat thief!” But it's too late. You're already out on open ocean. When there's no chance of going back, you realize that this might be harder then you thought. Waves toss “your” boat around, and you rock back and forth, feeling seasick. You wonder how long you can last on this sea. Suddenly, you turn pale. A pointed fin is pointing out from the water, and you know what that means. You immediately hurry up the engine, and go faster and faster. You saw a shark. You'll never make it out alive.
write 100 words to conclude your adventure as you fly away from your final planet -
You mount your horse, and trot off with her into the sunset. You are in oblivion, in a place with pure happiness. Sitting on her soft body, you are sure that life will never change, as long as your beautiful horse, Jolie, is here with you. You rub her mane affectionately, and she happily neighs. You sigh, happily. You look around at the field you are riding on, and you see the beautiful grass, wheat, and crops. They are all yours, all your family's. You and your family give them to those who don't have food. You love each other.
- icebunny11
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
NickName - Ava
Content - November 24th Daily
Word Count - 712/300
Topic - Write in two different timelines simultaneously!
Cabin - Thriller
19:43
2022
Somewhere in New York…
A girl sighed and kicked the stones in the narrow alleyway. Her hair was dark red and her skin was an oddly pleasing shade. She wore a hoodie that hugged tightly to her body and jeans. She looked at the stone she had kicked which had not budged angrily. Even when she was angry, her eyes looked beautiful. They were a shade of brown which seemed like they had golden swirling.
She let out a low groan of dissatisfaction and kicked the rock once more. The rock moved only slightly.
'Riya, what are you doing?! We have to go back, or else they'd catch us!'
The girl's eyes widened for a millisecond as the golden moved around faster, and turned around nonchalantly. She met two kids who were younger than her. She was seventeen.
The girl; in front of her, supposedly Riya, had blue hair and eyes, and she hadn't noticed the girl. The boy with black hair and green eyes looked at Riya fiercely as if she had blown their cover.
Which he had.
9:45
2056
Building Harrison47, floor 14…
'You're all schist grandma.' said a girl with red hair. Her brother with a lighter shade of brown was laughing with her.
Her grandma had grey hair, but you could still see the dark red strands. Her brown and golden eyes looked at the children lovingly.
'Oh, but it's all true!' said the grandma, waving her hands with enthusiasm. ‘I was an undercover agent! I’m not lying, I swear on waffles.
The boy's eyes shined. ‘On waffles?’
The grandma agreed. ‘On waffles, Terry.’
The girl opened her mouth to speak. ‘But grandma Denisse, weren’t you a pet store owner?'
The grandma laughed. ‘Oh heavens, no! That was my cover story. I was a private eye working for the police!’
The boy waved his hand at his sister, annoyed. ‘Don’t mind Florisse, grandma, she won't believe a thing.'
The grandma pretended to scold the boy. ‘Don’t tease your sister like that, Terry.'
Terry pouted. ‘Can you continue?’
The grandma nodded. ‘Of course! come on, huddle up…’
19:50
2022
Somewhere in New York…
The boy with black hair looked up to see the girl with dark red hair. His scowl started to fade into a smile slowly. He wiped his forehead off of anxious sweat.
'It's just Hilda!' he said. ‘I honestly thought you were that pet store owner Denisse or something. She’s such a snitch, isn't she? I wonder what college she goes to! It must be that horrible school on Gray road. Oh, have you heard the news? I…'
Denisse rolled her eyes, but only in her head. Being a private eye meant you needed to keep up with the job no matter what. God! Ryan was such a chatter mouth.
She smiled painfully. ‘Where are the packages?’
Riya finally sighed, having a chance to speak. ‘The dealer isn’t here yet. The gang is abroad and we're here to receive the parcels. Then we can all go on holiday after selling the dr-'
Riya was about to throw her hands up but Denisse stopped her.
'So you're going to collect the parcels?' she asked.
'Yes…?' Riya said.
'Where are your friends? I want to come too.' She added quickly.
'Oh, they're in Miami. They finished selling all the dru-'
'And how much money have they also stolen from the bank?'
'4 million, I think.'
Denisse whistled.
Ryan stopped muttering to himself. His eyes widened with betrayal. He used to work with the police once in an internship. He knew what that meant.
'Run!' he shouted, but a bit too late. The police had surrounded them and taken them away. A detective was writing down possible locations in Miami.
Riya looked at her teary eyes, and Denisse forced herself to look away. They were only kids, really. Fifteen. They were doing this for the money only.
And Denisse walked away without accepting praise from anybody because when you're a private eye, no sympathy can be spared.
10:00
2056
Building Harrison47, floor 14…
'Ouch…' said Florisse. ‘I don’t want to be a private eye, grandma.'
The grandma's eyes glimmered with a little regret and sadness. ‘Don’t worry, sweetie. YOu don't need to.'
"I WANT TO BE A VET!' Terry announced proudly.
'I want to be a teacher,' Florrise added.
The grandma smiled and hugged her grandchildren.
'You can be anything you want to.'
And a tear slid down her face, but only in her head. Because the habit of hiding her emotions could not be reversed.
Content - November 24th Daily
Word Count - 712/300
Topic - Write in two different timelines simultaneously!
Cabin - Thriller
LET'S GET STARTED
19:43
2022
Somewhere in New York…
A girl sighed and kicked the stones in the narrow alleyway. Her hair was dark red and her skin was an oddly pleasing shade. She wore a hoodie that hugged tightly to her body and jeans. She looked at the stone she had kicked which had not budged angrily. Even when she was angry, her eyes looked beautiful. They were a shade of brown which seemed like they had golden swirling.
She let out a low groan of dissatisfaction and kicked the rock once more. The rock moved only slightly.
'Riya, what are you doing?! We have to go back, or else they'd catch us!'
The girl's eyes widened for a millisecond as the golden moved around faster, and turned around nonchalantly. She met two kids who were younger than her. She was seventeen.
The girl; in front of her, supposedly Riya, had blue hair and eyes, and she hadn't noticed the girl. The boy with black hair and green eyes looked at Riya fiercely as if she had blown their cover.
Which he had.
9:45
2056
Building Harrison47, floor 14…
'You're all schist grandma.' said a girl with red hair. Her brother with a lighter shade of brown was laughing with her.
Her grandma had grey hair, but you could still see the dark red strands. Her brown and golden eyes looked at the children lovingly.
'Oh, but it's all true!' said the grandma, waving her hands with enthusiasm. ‘I was an undercover agent! I’m not lying, I swear on waffles.
The boy's eyes shined. ‘On waffles?’
The grandma agreed. ‘On waffles, Terry.’
The girl opened her mouth to speak. ‘But grandma Denisse, weren’t you a pet store owner?'
The grandma laughed. ‘Oh heavens, no! That was my cover story. I was a private eye working for the police!’
The boy waved his hand at his sister, annoyed. ‘Don’t mind Florisse, grandma, she won't believe a thing.'
The grandma pretended to scold the boy. ‘Don’t tease your sister like that, Terry.'
Terry pouted. ‘Can you continue?’
The grandma nodded. ‘Of course! come on, huddle up…’
19:50
2022
Somewhere in New York…
The boy with black hair looked up to see the girl with dark red hair. His scowl started to fade into a smile slowly. He wiped his forehead off of anxious sweat.
'It's just Hilda!' he said. ‘I honestly thought you were that pet store owner Denisse or something. She’s such a snitch, isn't she? I wonder what college she goes to! It must be that horrible school on Gray road. Oh, have you heard the news? I…'
Denisse rolled her eyes, but only in her head. Being a private eye meant you needed to keep up with the job no matter what. God! Ryan was such a chatter mouth.
She smiled painfully. ‘Where are the packages?’
Riya finally sighed, having a chance to speak. ‘The dealer isn’t here yet. The gang is abroad and we're here to receive the parcels. Then we can all go on holiday after selling the dr-'
Riya was about to throw her hands up but Denisse stopped her.
'So you're going to collect the parcels?' she asked.
'Yes…?' Riya said.
'Where are your friends? I want to come too.' She added quickly.
'Oh, they're in Miami. They finished selling all the dru-'
'And how much money have they also stolen from the bank?'
'4 million, I think.'
Denisse whistled.
Ryan stopped muttering to himself. His eyes widened with betrayal. He used to work with the police once in an internship. He knew what that meant.
'Run!' he shouted, but a bit too late. The police had surrounded them and taken them away. A detective was writing down possible locations in Miami.
Riya looked at her teary eyes, and Denisse forced herself to look away. They were only kids, really. Fifteen. They were doing this for the money only.
And Denisse walked away without accepting praise from anybody because when you're a private eye, no sympathy can be spared.
10:00
2056
Building Harrison47, floor 14…
'Ouch…' said Florisse. ‘I don’t want to be a private eye, grandma.'
The grandma's eyes glimmered with a little regret and sadness. ‘Don’t worry, sweetie. YOu don't need to.'
"I WANT TO BE A VET!' Terry announced proudly.
'I want to be a teacher,' Florrise added.
The grandma smiled and hugged her grandchildren.
'You can be anything you want to.'
And a tear slid down her face, but only in her head. Because the habit of hiding her emotions could not be reversed.
I told you,
I don't want to
be part of another
fandom.
Oh by the way,
what's the name
of the book?
*furious typing*
- icebunny11
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
NickName - Ava
Content - Writing Competition Main Entry!
Word Count - 1717/2000
Cabin - Thriller
When You Accidentally Spoilt The Ending
Narrator: The library is finally open after a week of the pandemic, which was caused after an ill person knocked over a whole shelf of books and sneezed on them.
*children run inside while adults follow at a slower pace. Many people are returning overdue books and getting exceptions due to the pandemic.*
Ava: *runs the stairs to the top floor immediately.* Come on! What are you waiting for?!
Jojo: *panting* I'm coming! Can you stop being so hyper?!
Narrator: The library also had a book club. It was cheap, only five dollars a month. The book clubbers got access to way more books than the regular readers. This club was on the top floor, and you could only enter with a special card. That was almost the only electronic thing in the whole library.
Ava: Skye, where are the others?
Skye: They're coming!
Ava: *grumbling* why are they so late all the time?
Jojo: *shrug* Now move along. We need to insert our cards!
Narrator: Each one - Ava, Skye, and Jojo- stood in a line slowly growing behind them and inserted their library and book club cards. You needed to pay 3 dollars a month for a library card. You couldn't check books out without a library card. You didn't need to have one, but if you did, you had to insert it too.
Jojo: Look, there are Iris and Twi!
Ava: *looks back and sees her other two friends there too.* *whispers* come on!! *gestures to hurry up*
Twi: *points at the line and then at her and Iris, and then at Ava.*
Skye: *shakes head* they'll catch up, don't worry.
Narrator: Ava was anxious to discuss the new book she was sure they had all read. But when the last library meeting had been canceled for a week, Ava had been impatient ever since.
*Ava, Skye, Jojo, and a few others enter the beautiful room. It has wood walls and floor, all polished. A small fireplace was in the middle of the room, away from the book. Most bookshelves are stuck to the walls, but a few are fancy trays that can be opened and closed. The different sofas are not only comfy but also attractive to the eye. There is one enormous carpet in the searing area*
Narrator: It feels like a second home to Ava and all the other readers.
Ava: *sighs happily* I bag this one! *sits on a blue sofa with a reclined back.*
*Each of them grabs a book. Skye sits on a bean bag, and Jojo sits on the floor, resting on her arms.*
Narrator: After a bit, Twi and Iris enter along with Raya.
Raya: So, what book are we talking about today?
Narrator: Everyone gathers around Ava. This week, it's her turn to mention a book.
Ava: Have all of you read Crystal House?
Narrator: The whole club explodes with delight. Chattering is heard everywhere, and the librarian comes up to ‘shush’ them. The readers sit down, embarrassed.
*readers look at each other in awkward silence*
Ava: *looks at them again* Have you?
Everyone: *choruses softly* Yes!
Ava: *puts a book of the series on the table* Today, we're going to discuss theories for the final book!
Raya: I already read it…
Narrator: But nobody heard Raya. They were all speaking softly amongst themselves, waiting to be called for their ideas. After five minutes, Ava speaks up again.
Ava: *clears throat* you can go first, Lax!
Lax: M-Me?!
Ava: *smile* yes, you.
Lax: *stands up awkwardly* Well, I ship Mark and Rhea way too much to make a rational decision-
Narrator: The chattering starts again. A slow chant of MARHEA fills the air, and the librarian comes again to glare at them.
Jasper: *raises hand* OOH! OOH! ME!!
Ava: Alright, what's your theory?
Jasper: I think Gray and Flint should totally get together! I mean, they look so cute! They'll DEFINITELY get together in this book.
Narrator: There is a murmur of agreeance amongst the crowd. And once again, nobody hears Raya say,
Raya: Actually, Gray gets with Fiona and Flint-
Ava: Who wants to go next?
Reese: Can I?
Ava: Of course!
Reese: *comes to the front of the crowd* Who here agrees that Jay shall be banished to the underworld?
Narrator: Everybody's hands shot up immediately, except Raya. Reese frowned, confused.
Ava: Why don't you think so, Raya?
Raya: Well, I already-
Twi: Ava, Ava, I have a grand theory!
Raya: *grumble*
Narrator: Raya was getting a bit annoyed at all these incorrect theories. And in fact, Raya was a bit of a blabbermouth too, but she tried not to be a spoiler for the sake of her club friends.
*Raya sits down, fiddling with her fingers.*
Twi: I bet those nomad guys who captured Rhea have their own language or something! What was that extra scene explaining then, anyways? They were doing those weird motion thingies.
Everyone: *agrees instantly*
Raya: Finally, a correct theory…
Narrator: Jojo, who is sitting next to Raya, looks at her with a confused look on her face.
Jojo: *whisper* What do you mean?
Raya: *relieved that someone finally knows* I already read the book.
Jojo: *betrayed* What do you mean?!
Raya: *I'm sorry! I accidentally bought it and couldn't stop myself from reading it!
Jojo: *understanding* It's okay. Just don't spoil anything!
Raya: *fiddling with thumbs* could I spoil one thing?
Jojo: *sarcastic smile* sure, go on.
Raya: *excited* Mark and Rhea will get married!!!!!
Jojo: *Surprised* really? What about Gray and Flint?
Narrator: Jojo is too curious for her liking but asks away anyways. She wants to know if her favorite ship gets together.
Raya: *awkward* Er… About that… I-
Ava: Raya! It's your turn for a theory!
Raya: But-
Narrator: Raya tries to think of an excuse for the sake of her friends.
Raya: My theories are really odd…
Ava: It doesn't matter how weird they are! Come on and tell us!
Raya: *walks to the front and takes a deep breath* well, the thing is, I've already read the book.
Everyone: *gasps of shock and disbelief*
Raya: I'm sorry! I picked it up at the shop and prevented myself from reading it for six days. But then I just read the whole book yesterday!
Icy: THEN TELL US IF GRAY AND FLINT GET TOGETHER!!!!
Narrator: Raya gulps. She doesn't want to tell them anything.
Raya: Actually-
Dawn: AND DOES STELLA BECOME ADMIRAL?!
Raya: *raises hands* You might not like the answers.
Everyone: TELL US.
Raya: I'll tell you the good news first. Mark and Rhea, GET MARRIED!!
Narrator: The crowd screams in delight. The librarian comes up. She's very annoyed and tells them if they made any more noise, there would be no more club meetings. The noise abruptly stopped.
Raya: But the bad news-
Icy: It can't be that bad!
Dawn: I've already done a mental essay on the most horrible outcomes!
Lax: Why are you so scared?
Raya: I am not responsible for the chaos. *takes a deep breath and starts rambling* Gray gets with Fiona, and Flint gets with Stella. Stella does not become admiral but leads the chase. Flint is with her. Flint and Stella didn't make it out since they protected the team.
Everyone: *silence*
Narrator: It is so quiet you can hear the librarian turning the pages of a book downstairs. After a few minutes of horrified silence, Icy choked back a sob.
Dawn: I-is there anything- *voice cracks* thing else?
Raya: Are you sure you want to hear?
Ava: *nods mournfully*
Raya: *takes another deep breath* Jay doesn't get sent to the underworld. He gets away with it. That's the cliffhanger for the next series- *gets cut off by outraged gasps* And, he was the one who caused Flint and Stella's deaths. Also, Lola is… um…
Narrator: A few tears fall out of Raya's eyes. Lola is the innocent child who helped on every mission. She was obviously the favorite in the whole series.
Reese: *covers face with hands*
Jasper: do- don't tell me.
Raya: *nods miserably* That's how the book ends. She's… kil- *avoids the word* She is purposely made to pass away.
*a few minutes of grieving. The sound of the fireplace is the only thing that can be heard.*
Narrator: And then the chaos began.
Everyone: *Screams*
Icy: *runs down crying*
Jasper and Twi: *hugging each other and running in a circle as if that would stop the crying*
Jojo: *starts glaring at Raya* WHY DID YOU TELL US?!?!
Raya: *shouts back* YOU ASKED ME TO!!!
Jojo and Raya: *start shouting at each other*
Lax: BUT ATLEAST MARK AND RHEA GET MARRIED- *Gets cut off by the final book thrown at his head*
Ava: WHO THREW THAT BOOK, YOU DISGRACEFUL RAT?!?! *tries to find the book thrower*
Dawn: *runs down to the librarian but then comes back up* *screams* *runs back down but comes back up again and starts shaking the nearest person*
Iris: *who was the nearest person getting shaken* LET *tries to pry off Dawn's hands* ME *starts shaking her too instead* GO!!!
Skye: WHY CAN'T WE EVER HAPPY ENDING?!?!?! *rocks back and forth in a ball on the ground*
Reese: *grabs the final book from the floor and puts it to her chest, cradling it while muttering insults to nobody*
Other members: *crying around*
Narrator: Yes, this was a bit too extreme. But imagine this, YOu've waited your whole life for a happy ending, and your favorite ship gets broken up because one of the people dies, and the best female in the book dies too. And after that, the villain isn't punished, and the sweet child has passed. And then, the book ends because the author loves to put a reader in a nutshell. Wouldn't you react this badly?
Librarian: *comes up* STOP THIS NONSENSE! *gets completely ignored*
Raya: *cries to the librarian about the problem*
Librarian: *who was also waiting for the same book* what?! *goes down to the desk and doesn't come up again.*
Ava: *comes with slipper* RAYA, I'M COMING FOR YOU.
Raya: EEK!
Narrator: And the readers chase Raya till sundown.
*scene where silhouettes of many people are chasing another girl's silhouette.*
Narrator: Moral of the story: don't be a spoiler, even if you are begged to be one.
Content - Writing Competition Main Entry!
Word Count - 1717/2000
Cabin - Thriller
LET'S GET STARTED
When You Accidentally Spoilt The Ending
Narrator: The library is finally open after a week of the pandemic, which was caused after an ill person knocked over a whole shelf of books and sneezed on them.
*children run inside while adults follow at a slower pace. Many people are returning overdue books and getting exceptions due to the pandemic.*
Ava: *runs the stairs to the top floor immediately.* Come on! What are you waiting for?!
Jojo: *panting* I'm coming! Can you stop being so hyper?!
Narrator: The library also had a book club. It was cheap, only five dollars a month. The book clubbers got access to way more books than the regular readers. This club was on the top floor, and you could only enter with a special card. That was almost the only electronic thing in the whole library.
Ava: Skye, where are the others?
Skye: They're coming!
Ava: *grumbling* why are they so late all the time?
Jojo: *shrug* Now move along. We need to insert our cards!
Narrator: Each one - Ava, Skye, and Jojo- stood in a line slowly growing behind them and inserted their library and book club cards. You needed to pay 3 dollars a month for a library card. You couldn't check books out without a library card. You didn't need to have one, but if you did, you had to insert it too.
Jojo: Look, there are Iris and Twi!
Ava: *looks back and sees her other two friends there too.* *whispers* come on!! *gestures to hurry up*
Twi: *points at the line and then at her and Iris, and then at Ava.*
Skye: *shakes head* they'll catch up, don't worry.
Narrator: Ava was anxious to discuss the new book she was sure they had all read. But when the last library meeting had been canceled for a week, Ava had been impatient ever since.
*Ava, Skye, Jojo, and a few others enter the beautiful room. It has wood walls and floor, all polished. A small fireplace was in the middle of the room, away from the book. Most bookshelves are stuck to the walls, but a few are fancy trays that can be opened and closed. The different sofas are not only comfy but also attractive to the eye. There is one enormous carpet in the searing area*
Narrator: It feels like a second home to Ava and all the other readers.
Ava: *sighs happily* I bag this one! *sits on a blue sofa with a reclined back.*
*Each of them grabs a book. Skye sits on a bean bag, and Jojo sits on the floor, resting on her arms.*
Narrator: After a bit, Twi and Iris enter along with Raya.
Raya: So, what book are we talking about today?
Narrator: Everyone gathers around Ava. This week, it's her turn to mention a book.
Ava: Have all of you read Crystal House?
Narrator: The whole club explodes with delight. Chattering is heard everywhere, and the librarian comes up to ‘shush’ them. The readers sit down, embarrassed.
*readers look at each other in awkward silence*
Ava: *looks at them again* Have you?
Everyone: *choruses softly* Yes!
Ava: *puts a book of the series on the table* Today, we're going to discuss theories for the final book!
Raya: I already read it…
Narrator: But nobody heard Raya. They were all speaking softly amongst themselves, waiting to be called for their ideas. After five minutes, Ava speaks up again.
Ava: *clears throat* you can go first, Lax!
Lax: M-Me?!
Ava: *smile* yes, you.
Lax: *stands up awkwardly* Well, I ship Mark and Rhea way too much to make a rational decision-
Narrator: The chattering starts again. A slow chant of MARHEA fills the air, and the librarian comes again to glare at them.
Jasper: *raises hand* OOH! OOH! ME!!
Ava: Alright, what's your theory?
Jasper: I think Gray and Flint should totally get together! I mean, they look so cute! They'll DEFINITELY get together in this book.
Narrator: There is a murmur of agreeance amongst the crowd. And once again, nobody hears Raya say,
Raya: Actually, Gray gets with Fiona and Flint-
Ava: Who wants to go next?
Reese: Can I?
Ava: Of course!
Reese: *comes to the front of the crowd* Who here agrees that Jay shall be banished to the underworld?
Narrator: Everybody's hands shot up immediately, except Raya. Reese frowned, confused.
Ava: Why don't you think so, Raya?
Raya: Well, I already-
Twi: Ava, Ava, I have a grand theory!
Raya: *grumble*
Narrator: Raya was getting a bit annoyed at all these incorrect theories. And in fact, Raya was a bit of a blabbermouth too, but she tried not to be a spoiler for the sake of her club friends.
*Raya sits down, fiddling with her fingers.*
Twi: I bet those nomad guys who captured Rhea have their own language or something! What was that extra scene explaining then, anyways? They were doing those weird motion thingies.
Everyone: *agrees instantly*
Raya: Finally, a correct theory…
Narrator: Jojo, who is sitting next to Raya, looks at her with a confused look on her face.
Jojo: *whisper* What do you mean?
Raya: *relieved that someone finally knows* I already read the book.
Jojo: *betrayed* What do you mean?!
Raya: *I'm sorry! I accidentally bought it and couldn't stop myself from reading it!
Jojo: *understanding* It's okay. Just don't spoil anything!
Raya: *fiddling with thumbs* could I spoil one thing?
Jojo: *sarcastic smile* sure, go on.
Raya: *excited* Mark and Rhea will get married!!!!!
Jojo: *Surprised* really? What about Gray and Flint?
Narrator: Jojo is too curious for her liking but asks away anyways. She wants to know if her favorite ship gets together.
Raya: *awkward* Er… About that… I-
Ava: Raya! It's your turn for a theory!
Raya: But-
Narrator: Raya tries to think of an excuse for the sake of her friends.
Raya: My theories are really odd…
Ava: It doesn't matter how weird they are! Come on and tell us!
Raya: *walks to the front and takes a deep breath* well, the thing is, I've already read the book.
Everyone: *gasps of shock and disbelief*
Raya: I'm sorry! I picked it up at the shop and prevented myself from reading it for six days. But then I just read the whole book yesterday!
Icy: THEN TELL US IF GRAY AND FLINT GET TOGETHER!!!!
Narrator: Raya gulps. She doesn't want to tell them anything.
Raya: Actually-
Dawn: AND DOES STELLA BECOME ADMIRAL?!
Raya: *raises hands* You might not like the answers.
Everyone: TELL US.
Raya: I'll tell you the good news first. Mark and Rhea, GET MARRIED!!
Narrator: The crowd screams in delight. The librarian comes up. She's very annoyed and tells them if they made any more noise, there would be no more club meetings. The noise abruptly stopped.
Raya: But the bad news-
Icy: It can't be that bad!
Dawn: I've already done a mental essay on the most horrible outcomes!
Lax: Why are you so scared?
Raya: I am not responsible for the chaos. *takes a deep breath and starts rambling* Gray gets with Fiona, and Flint gets with Stella. Stella does not become admiral but leads the chase. Flint is with her. Flint and Stella didn't make it out since they protected the team.
Everyone: *silence*
Narrator: It is so quiet you can hear the librarian turning the pages of a book downstairs. After a few minutes of horrified silence, Icy choked back a sob.
Dawn: I-is there anything- *voice cracks* thing else?
Raya: Are you sure you want to hear?
Ava: *nods mournfully*
Raya: *takes another deep breath* Jay doesn't get sent to the underworld. He gets away with it. That's the cliffhanger for the next series- *gets cut off by outraged gasps* And, he was the one who caused Flint and Stella's deaths. Also, Lola is… um…
Narrator: A few tears fall out of Raya's eyes. Lola is the innocent child who helped on every mission. She was obviously the favorite in the whole series.
Reese: *covers face with hands*
Jasper: do- don't tell me.
Raya: *nods miserably* That's how the book ends. She's… kil- *avoids the word* She is purposely made to pass away.
*a few minutes of grieving. The sound of the fireplace is the only thing that can be heard.*
Narrator: And then the chaos began.
Everyone: *Screams*
Icy: *runs down crying*
Jasper and Twi: *hugging each other and running in a circle as if that would stop the crying*
Jojo: *starts glaring at Raya* WHY DID YOU TELL US?!?!
Raya: *shouts back* YOU ASKED ME TO!!!
Jojo and Raya: *start shouting at each other*
Lax: BUT ATLEAST MARK AND RHEA GET MARRIED- *Gets cut off by the final book thrown at his head*
Ava: WHO THREW THAT BOOK, YOU DISGRACEFUL RAT?!?! *tries to find the book thrower*
Dawn: *runs down to the librarian but then comes back up* *screams* *runs back down but comes back up again and starts shaking the nearest person*
Iris: *who was the nearest person getting shaken* LET *tries to pry off Dawn's hands* ME *starts shaking her too instead* GO!!!
Skye: WHY CAN'T WE EVER HAPPY ENDING?!?!?! *rocks back and forth in a ball on the ground*
Reese: *grabs the final book from the floor and puts it to her chest, cradling it while muttering insults to nobody*
Other members: *crying around*
Narrator: Yes, this was a bit too extreme. But imagine this, YOu've waited your whole life for a happy ending, and your favorite ship gets broken up because one of the people dies, and the best female in the book dies too. And after that, the villain isn't punished, and the sweet child has passed. And then, the book ends because the author loves to put a reader in a nutshell. Wouldn't you react this badly?
Librarian: *comes up* STOP THIS NONSENSE! *gets completely ignored*
Raya: *cries to the librarian about the problem*
Librarian: *who was also waiting for the same book* what?! *goes down to the desk and doesn't come up again.*
Ava: *comes with slipper* RAYA, I'M COMING FOR YOU.
Raya: EEK!
Narrator: And the readers chase Raya till sundown.
*scene where silhouettes of many people are chasing another girl's silhouette.*
Narrator: Moral of the story: don't be a spoiler, even if you are begged to be one.
Last edited by icebunny11 (Nov. 25, 2022 12:23:51)
I told you,
I don't want to
be part of another
fandom.
Oh by the way,
what's the name
of the book?
*furious typing*
- icebunny11
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
NickName - Ava
Content - Critique
Word Count - 216
Cabin - Thriller
Writing - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6751757/
Author - seasiide
Content - Critique
Word Count - 216
Cabin - Thriller
Writing - https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6751757/
Author - seasiide
LET'S GET STARTED
My first thought was, how?
How could colors match the feelings so well in the correct moments?
The first read was awesome, and I actually had to read it over three times to find a critique for you!It started as a dull gray.
Quiet mornings
And busy school days.
Occasional specks of yellow and blue,
Like the ocean and honeydew.
Laughter and sobbing,
Wake, eat, sleep, repeat.
Living in a simulation,
That never changed.
This was great! The opening of the poem was fantastic. Here is a suggestion- don't say quiet mornings. Some people love quiet mornings. Instead, say awkward or meaningful. Quiet is good too, just not everyone might relate to this part!Then it was a fantasy.
Pink, rosy cheeks and bubblegum colored flowers.
Eyeing him in the corridor,
Looking away when he noticed.
Giggles and cotton candy,
My mind caught in a dream
That never wanted to end.
I have no words for this paragraph. In a good way, of course.
Look at the art, The finesse. This paragraph is perfect I don't feel like anything should be or would be changed here in any circumstance. Well done!When he loved me, the world was red.
Like roses and rubies,
Coral and strawberries.
Snuggling on the couch,
Popcorn in our mouths.
Movie theaters and cafés,
Ranches and gardening.
Living in a dream,
That never seemed like it would end.
And that's when you realize something goes wrong. You know it immediately as it hit you. Try to build the suspense from the first line, or from the middle. Like-
Popcorn used to be in our mouths,
Movie theaters and cafes,
Ranches and gardening…
You see the suspense I built? That's what I mean. The symbolizations are great, though!When we parted, it was blue.
Like bluebonnets, lapis lazuli,
And rainy afternoons.
Sobbing underneath the sheets,
Waking from a forever dream.
Curled up into a ball,
Tears dripping onto old photos.
Aloof from friends and family,
Locked behind doors.
Living in a nightmare,
That didn’t want to stop.
I sighed when I read this paragraph, really. The writing is so poetic it's perfect. Almost.
Living in a nightmare that didn't want to stop. I get what you mean by this. But it technically means you didn't want the nightmare to stop. Say it like this-
Living in a nightmare,
That couldn't and wouldn't stop.
That makes a little more sense to me.After a while, everything changed back to dull gray.
There yellow, more blue,
Like a lake below a canoe.
There were still some times
Where I felt only blue again.
But through time,
The laughter started up again.
I saw more yellow,
And eventually pink.
I don't need to correct anything here. It's perfect *chef's kiss*Then began the cycle,
That love continues to repeat.
THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.
WHY DO YOU EVEN NEED CRITIQUE?!
*CLAPCLAPCLAP*
Thank you for reading my critique!!
I told you,
I don't want to
be part of another
fandom.
Oh by the way,
what's the name
of the book?
*furious typing*
- Polarbear_17
-
Scratcher
500+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
SWC November 2022 Writing Competition Regular Entry
TW: sensitive subject matter
Along the Lines ~ 2000 words
1. Acquire square paper. Fold diagonal to diagonal; repeat with opposite corners to form “X” crease. Fold edge to edge; repeat with opposite edges to form “+” crease.
We promised, so I’ll keep it.
It’s somewhere off the side of the interchange before the highway. You know, the exit leading to the junction near the run-down gas station with the broken air conditioner. The underbrush in an obscure part of town, a lesser-known path taken near the road verge. The grass a dying shade of green, like your bedside flowers.
The spade crushed vegetation like dreams; easy to take a stab at, hard to take far. I remember the arcs you drew. A protractor forming perfect curves. Every unearthed, untouched clod of soil scattered throughout the crime site.
Early evening, yet pure darkness consumed us. Only my phone flashlight in one hand to illuminate the growing aperture. Other hand holding a casket of keepsakes deemed most important.
X marked the spot where we left our pasts behind. Sowing memories hoping they’d germinate into something worthwhile to remember in the future. You planted a cross on the new-formed pile. Said it'd be easier to relocate. We weren't religious or anything; just appreciated what the symbol represented. And we vowed we'd come back together to excavate our interred history.
Or, something along the lines of that. Details aren't my forte. They're yours. Point is, the best I can do now is retrieve the buried treasure alone.
X marked the spot. Hope I can still find it.
~
2. Position paper with one corner facing you. Side corners meet at corner facing you. Press down top corner to meet other corners. Fold top right and top left corners to meet at center line. Fold top corner to meet at center.
We met from a friend of a friend. I’ll admit— I was reluctant at first.
They connected us at the recreational center. The one between the hair salon your grandparents swear by and the fancy restaurant you took me out to a month or so later. We spent the entire time that day in the cafe library discussing conversation starters. Bought cookies and hot chocolate. Called it a date. Don’t recall the name of the cafe; started with an “L” or something. Lola’s. Or maybe Luca’s.
I can’t remember names well. Unlike words, names don’t have meaning until you assign one. I don’t try most the time.
But, I swear, I tried with you.
I tried so hard.
I promise. I kept journals with every nuance, every subtle change in gradient, every decimal place… everything I loved and hated to love about you.
Same journals that were on the fourth row in the bedroom closet. Same ones that were collecting dust and neglect. Same ones I said you couldn’t touch. Not yet.
Now, I guess, it’s not ever.
What I remember of that day was written along the lines of those pages weathered with anticipation and anxiety. You were no cliche lover. The first date was awkward. Didn’t think we’d keep it going, but I was drawn to you. Like jumping off diving boards without looking for the water below.
Unknowingly dangerous. Knowingly naive.
~
3. Unfold most recent folds. Open up and press flat. Repeat with opposite side.
I didn’t think I would open up to anybody. Thought I was fine hiding skeletons behind smiles.
But, you found the key. I didn’t know there was a lock.
That was the first time I didn’t cry alone.
Two weeks before graduation and two weeks after a successful job interview. Playing board games on the floor of your old apartment. The one by the rebranded water park you used to work as a lifeguard at. Don’t remember the name of the game, though I’m certain I won. But, it doesn’t matter, because neither of us ever kept score.
Words were exchanged. You grinned, oblivious to the dried watercolors in me. Your eyes were polaroid camera flashes, unmoved by the cyclones in my eyes.
I didn’t know I could feel so scared being told I was loved.
Or, being told I’ve encountered a new person to disappoint. Or regret.
Words were exchanged. Your photogenic, photographic eyes lost no vitality. My cyclones turned into swirling waterfalls.
But— you. You mixed my storms and palettes to form murals. Effortless. That day, you painted the word camaraderie into our vocabulary. Flawless strokes along the calligraphy lines. A handwritten reminder tattooed into my brain.
Unfortunately, colors are not timeless.
~
4. Take top two corners and fold to join at center. Repeat with other side. Take top right edge and fold to opposite edge. Repeat with other side. Take narrow corner and fold to top. Repeat with other side.
Of all the words picture-framed throughout the hallway of our relationship, terminal persisted the most.
I repeated the definitions in my head often.
One— incurable, leading to death.
Two— station or point at the end of a transportation route.
That was something similar about us; we loved traveling. You with your business trips. Me with my family visits. Or, you and me with our vacations to Elsewhere.
That being said, I hated retrieving you at airports. You with unbearable directions. Me with unstable impatience. Or, you and me with our arguments of whose fault it was.
If there had been five terminals, I would’ve understood. There were only two. And, of course, you had told me to come to the wrong one. Though, you continued to claim you had never misspoke.
July swelter with an overheating phone. Silence on the phone call half the time. The signal was poor. Hang-ups and recalls hoping for better connection. I had contently envisioned your return. But now, I yearned for home— or, more accurately, rest.
It was constant back in forth. Confusion over the north or south terminal. You complaining about heavy luggage. Me complaining about wasted time. Or, you and me complaining about wanting to leave as soon as possible.
I don’t remember yelling. Only the fact my voice muffled the mainstream songs on the radio. Slowly staggering along the lines of traffic cones; scanning crowds for your mauve roller.
By the time you were in the passenger seat, we had already started the quarrel. No nice-to-see-you embraces. No I-missed-you-so-much kisses. Just red-faced tears and soar-throat riots.
You could’ve held my experiences like spears; seizing and shooting past mistakes at the fortress of my heart.
But, you snapped those javelins in half. Left me with two splintered pieces. A handle with no tip. A point with nothing to grasp.
Your words were truth and poison. Hard to swallow, so I spat them back at you instead.
I don’t remember what exactly we fired at each other. Again, details were never my forte. Come to think of it, I don’t think they were really yours either.
Come to think of it, the world never left much for us anyway.
When we drove into the garage, we could've left it at that. Allowed wounds to scar or scab over. Hoped our bodies could handle rebuilding themselves on their own.
But, instead, we stitched each other up. Compromises like needles sewing gashes closed. Grievances bared and apologies shared. Backed off the grudges and tackled perspectives head-on.
We both resurfaced from that dispute victorious.
And that’s when I knew we would turn out fine.
Or. We would’ve turned out fine.
We should’ve been fine.
~
5. Take right edge and fold to opposite edge. Repeat with other side. Pull out the inside narrow strips on both right and left side. Afterward, fold down widest flaps on both sides.
You were pulled out the back of the ambulance. I dashed out of the police car. Full parking lot, full moon, and overfilled rooms. The scene should’ve also alternated between phases of red and blue. I’m not sure; all I remember was that the sirens were blaring.
Your face was covered with dried foam and an oxygen mask. If I had squinted hard enough, I think I would’ve seen the pain infiltrating into the creases in your skin.
And if you were awake, you would’ve seen my willpower disappearing with my smile lines.
They carted you into the glass sliding doors. Tried tearing through the crowd of first responders. Was held back by people— policemen, nurses, or drivers. I’m not sure; all I remember was that I could only hold back my own tears.
By the time the doctors allowed me into your room, you were tangled in IVs and feeding tubes.
But— you. You were still beautiful.
I was assured you were fine for now. Was not assured of the bad news to follow.
Different forms of paper were signed. Different forms of treatment were discussed. Different forms of care were suggested. The details, I’m not sure; all I remember was that I wondered how different forms of grief could exist simultaneously.
The word terminal re-emerged with a new meaning. The one I repeated first in my head.
Their words were truth and medicine. Hard to swallow, so I choked on them instead.
I didn’t ask how long. Didn’t ask if you’d make it. From their whispers, I already knew they weren’t sure; all I remember was that I wrote the word coma down in that journal entry.
I brought my journals in so I could stay with you. For as long as it was necessary.
It was only six days.
~
6. Pull flaps apart to form wings. Bend one narrow strip to form a head. String together the newly formed crane with other cranes.
I keep my head low when folding these birds. Numbering on wings to keep track of which one I’m on.
I wrote messages inside each of those cranes. Messages dedicated to you. Messages never to be read. Paragraphs comprised of all I can remember. But, details were never our forte.
But, I promised I’d try.
I rip out pages of my journals, folding along the lines left by creases to spawn these creatures of grace. Feathers made of navy notebook lines. Words made of details I could never get right the first time.
One thousand cranes, intertwined together to offer one wish. They swim beside your hospital bed. Too many to arrange into synchronized loops.
Didn’t want you to feel alone. Asked the nurses what they’d do with these birds if I left them here. Was told they’d discard them with the other pieces of trash.
I run my eyes along the flatline one last time. It’s been hours. Hoping for the subtlest of fluctuations. But, nothing.
Your body’s already shrouded with blankets. But, I’ve stared and lamented enough to still recall your face. I don’t know if I prefer it this way or not.
Get up. Shut off the lights. Dragging my string of birds out the room. Down the hallway. Down the stairs. Out the doorway. Into the shadows of midnight.
~
(the day after)
X marked the spot.
The familiar aperture welcomes me with open arms. Used the same spade you used. Dirt crusts the inside of my fingernails. Hands caked with grime.
Sitting on the ground will leave grass stains on my jeans. They’ll be difficult to wash clean.
Box in my lap. Clay seals the grooves in the wood.
The aperture demands tribute for this invasion of privacy. Like it knows of the failed agreement of together.
Understanding, I feed the cranes into the crevice. Watch as the pit devours every written memory. Exchange a current past for an older one.
The birds do not cry about this betrayal. They accepted their purpose from the get-go. Quietly, they fulfill their sacrificial role.
~
I run my hands along the lines left behind by this reburial. A darker patch of soil compared to the rest.
I haul the time capsule to the road. The fruits of my wish, all in my hands.
Everything left of us, embodied in one vessel.
So I carry ourselves all the way home. And open us to be free.
~
~ Along the Lines, 2000 words
TW: sensitive subject matter
Along the Lines ~ 2000 words
1. Acquire square paper. Fold diagonal to diagonal; repeat with opposite corners to form “X” crease. Fold edge to edge; repeat with opposite edges to form “+” crease.
We promised, so I’ll keep it.
It’s somewhere off the side of the interchange before the highway. You know, the exit leading to the junction near the run-down gas station with the broken air conditioner. The underbrush in an obscure part of town, a lesser-known path taken near the road verge. The grass a dying shade of green, like your bedside flowers.
The spade crushed vegetation like dreams; easy to take a stab at, hard to take far. I remember the arcs you drew. A protractor forming perfect curves. Every unearthed, untouched clod of soil scattered throughout the crime site.
Early evening, yet pure darkness consumed us. Only my phone flashlight in one hand to illuminate the growing aperture. Other hand holding a casket of keepsakes deemed most important.
X marked the spot where we left our pasts behind. Sowing memories hoping they’d germinate into something worthwhile to remember in the future. You planted a cross on the new-formed pile. Said it'd be easier to relocate. We weren't religious or anything; just appreciated what the symbol represented. And we vowed we'd come back together to excavate our interred history.
Or, something along the lines of that. Details aren't my forte. They're yours. Point is, the best I can do now is retrieve the buried treasure alone.
X marked the spot. Hope I can still find it.
~
2. Position paper with one corner facing you. Side corners meet at corner facing you. Press down top corner to meet other corners. Fold top right and top left corners to meet at center line. Fold top corner to meet at center.
We met from a friend of a friend. I’ll admit— I was reluctant at first.
They connected us at the recreational center. The one between the hair salon your grandparents swear by and the fancy restaurant you took me out to a month or so later. We spent the entire time that day in the cafe library discussing conversation starters. Bought cookies and hot chocolate. Called it a date. Don’t recall the name of the cafe; started with an “L” or something. Lola’s. Or maybe Luca’s.
I can’t remember names well. Unlike words, names don’t have meaning until you assign one. I don’t try most the time.
But, I swear, I tried with you.
I tried so hard.
I promise. I kept journals with every nuance, every subtle change in gradient, every decimal place… everything I loved and hated to love about you.
Same journals that were on the fourth row in the bedroom closet. Same ones that were collecting dust and neglect. Same ones I said you couldn’t touch. Not yet.
Now, I guess, it’s not ever.
What I remember of that day was written along the lines of those pages weathered with anticipation and anxiety. You were no cliche lover. The first date was awkward. Didn’t think we’d keep it going, but I was drawn to you. Like jumping off diving boards without looking for the water below.
Unknowingly dangerous. Knowingly naive.
~
3. Unfold most recent folds. Open up and press flat. Repeat with opposite side.
I didn’t think I would open up to anybody. Thought I was fine hiding skeletons behind smiles.
But, you found the key. I didn’t know there was a lock.
That was the first time I didn’t cry alone.
Two weeks before graduation and two weeks after a successful job interview. Playing board games on the floor of your old apartment. The one by the rebranded water park you used to work as a lifeguard at. Don’t remember the name of the game, though I’m certain I won. But, it doesn’t matter, because neither of us ever kept score.
Words were exchanged. You grinned, oblivious to the dried watercolors in me. Your eyes were polaroid camera flashes, unmoved by the cyclones in my eyes.
I didn’t know I could feel so scared being told I was loved.
Or, being told I’ve encountered a new person to disappoint. Or regret.
Words were exchanged. Your photogenic, photographic eyes lost no vitality. My cyclones turned into swirling waterfalls.
But— you. You mixed my storms and palettes to form murals. Effortless. That day, you painted the word camaraderie into our vocabulary. Flawless strokes along the calligraphy lines. A handwritten reminder tattooed into my brain.
Unfortunately, colors are not timeless.
~
4. Take top two corners and fold to join at center. Repeat with other side. Take top right edge and fold to opposite edge. Repeat with other side. Take narrow corner and fold to top. Repeat with other side.
Of all the words picture-framed throughout the hallway of our relationship, terminal persisted the most.
I repeated the definitions in my head often.
One— incurable, leading to death.
Two— station or point at the end of a transportation route.
That was something similar about us; we loved traveling. You with your business trips. Me with my family visits. Or, you and me with our vacations to Elsewhere.
That being said, I hated retrieving you at airports. You with unbearable directions. Me with unstable impatience. Or, you and me with our arguments of whose fault it was.
If there had been five terminals, I would’ve understood. There were only two. And, of course, you had told me to come to the wrong one. Though, you continued to claim you had never misspoke.
July swelter with an overheating phone. Silence on the phone call half the time. The signal was poor. Hang-ups and recalls hoping for better connection. I had contently envisioned your return. But now, I yearned for home— or, more accurately, rest.
It was constant back in forth. Confusion over the north or south terminal. You complaining about heavy luggage. Me complaining about wasted time. Or, you and me complaining about wanting to leave as soon as possible.
I don’t remember yelling. Only the fact my voice muffled the mainstream songs on the radio. Slowly staggering along the lines of traffic cones; scanning crowds for your mauve roller.
By the time you were in the passenger seat, we had already started the quarrel. No nice-to-see-you embraces. No I-missed-you-so-much kisses. Just red-faced tears and soar-throat riots.
You could’ve held my experiences like spears; seizing and shooting past mistakes at the fortress of my heart.
But, you snapped those javelins in half. Left me with two splintered pieces. A handle with no tip. A point with nothing to grasp.
Your words were truth and poison. Hard to swallow, so I spat them back at you instead.
I don’t remember what exactly we fired at each other. Again, details were never my forte. Come to think of it, I don’t think they were really yours either.
Come to think of it, the world never left much for us anyway.
When we drove into the garage, we could've left it at that. Allowed wounds to scar or scab over. Hoped our bodies could handle rebuilding themselves on their own.
But, instead, we stitched each other up. Compromises like needles sewing gashes closed. Grievances bared and apologies shared. Backed off the grudges and tackled perspectives head-on.
We both resurfaced from that dispute victorious.
And that’s when I knew we would turn out fine.
Or. We would’ve turned out fine.
We should’ve been fine.
~
5. Take right edge and fold to opposite edge. Repeat with other side. Pull out the inside narrow strips on both right and left side. Afterward, fold down widest flaps on both sides.
You were pulled out the back of the ambulance. I dashed out of the police car. Full parking lot, full moon, and overfilled rooms. The scene should’ve also alternated between phases of red and blue. I’m not sure; all I remember was that the sirens were blaring.
Your face was covered with dried foam and an oxygen mask. If I had squinted hard enough, I think I would’ve seen the pain infiltrating into the creases in your skin.
And if you were awake, you would’ve seen my willpower disappearing with my smile lines.
They carted you into the glass sliding doors. Tried tearing through the crowd of first responders. Was held back by people— policemen, nurses, or drivers. I’m not sure; all I remember was that I could only hold back my own tears.
By the time the doctors allowed me into your room, you were tangled in IVs and feeding tubes.
But— you. You were still beautiful.
I was assured you were fine for now. Was not assured of the bad news to follow.
Different forms of paper were signed. Different forms of treatment were discussed. Different forms of care were suggested. The details, I’m not sure; all I remember was that I wondered how different forms of grief could exist simultaneously.
The word terminal re-emerged with a new meaning. The one I repeated first in my head.
Their words were truth and medicine. Hard to swallow, so I choked on them instead.
I didn’t ask how long. Didn’t ask if you’d make it. From their whispers, I already knew they weren’t sure; all I remember was that I wrote the word coma down in that journal entry.
I brought my journals in so I could stay with you. For as long as it was necessary.
It was only six days.
~
6. Pull flaps apart to form wings. Bend one narrow strip to form a head. String together the newly formed crane with other cranes.
I keep my head low when folding these birds. Numbering on wings to keep track of which one I’m on.
I wrote messages inside each of those cranes. Messages dedicated to you. Messages never to be read. Paragraphs comprised of all I can remember. But, details were never our forte.
But, I promised I’d try.
I rip out pages of my journals, folding along the lines left by creases to spawn these creatures of grace. Feathers made of navy notebook lines. Words made of details I could never get right the first time.
One thousand cranes, intertwined together to offer one wish. They swim beside your hospital bed. Too many to arrange into synchronized loops.
Didn’t want you to feel alone. Asked the nurses what they’d do with these birds if I left them here. Was told they’d discard them with the other pieces of trash.
I run my eyes along the flatline one last time. It’s been hours. Hoping for the subtlest of fluctuations. But, nothing.
Your body’s already shrouded with blankets. But, I’ve stared and lamented enough to still recall your face. I don’t know if I prefer it this way or not.
Get up. Shut off the lights. Dragging my string of birds out the room. Down the hallway. Down the stairs. Out the doorway. Into the shadows of midnight.
~
(the day after)
X marked the spot.
The familiar aperture welcomes me with open arms. Used the same spade you used. Dirt crusts the inside of my fingernails. Hands caked with grime.
Sitting on the ground will leave grass stains on my jeans. They’ll be difficult to wash clean.
Box in my lap. Clay seals the grooves in the wood.
The aperture demands tribute for this invasion of privacy. Like it knows of the failed agreement of together.
Understanding, I feed the cranes into the crevice. Watch as the pit devours every written memory. Exchange a current past for an older one.
The birds do not cry about this betrayal. They accepted their purpose from the get-go. Quietly, they fulfill their sacrificial role.
~
I run my hands along the lines left behind by this reburial. A darker patch of soil compared to the rest.
I haul the time capsule to the road. The fruits of my wish, all in my hands.
Everything left of us, embodied in one vessel.
So I carry ourselves all the way home. And open us to be free.
~
~ Along the Lines, 2000 words
Author's Note
Words can not describe how many drafts of this story I've gone through. From trying out different scenes to represent each step in the origami folding, from using different tutorials and rearranging steps, from changing the entire style and voice of my entry– this is probably the writing competition entry I am the proudest of (for now, of course, ahaha).
Fun fact: the voice I used in this writing was inspired by my eavesdropping on a lady in the men's underwear section of some shopping mall I was at. She talked in a really interesting way, and I had an epiphany to rewrite my entire entry inspired by her brief dialogue on the phone. So, yes, I know how to grammar, do not worry, I just purposefully used dependent clauses and incomplete sentences… I hope the writing competition judges picked up on that stylistic choice, or I am actually doomed xD
The idea to write about origami folding came one fateful day when I recalled the story of Sadako and the Thousand Cranes when I saw a fence covered in origami cranes connected together with string. The story was read to me in elementary school, and it inspired me to research the Japanese tradition of folding a thousand cranes to grant a wish. And, yes, I can fold a crane now! Reading tutorials on how to fold cranes inspired the steps to fold a crane throughout the writing competition entry, and then using those steps to lead up to the scene that follows. Side note: the steps to fold a crane in my entry are not recommended to actually be followed. They'll work if you know what you're doing, but… they're not the most detailed. Just like the narrator said, details aren't really my forte.(No, but actually, I have aphantasia so I really can't visualize things, so writing details is really difficult for me xD) They're mostly just there to detail what the narrator of the story was doing in the hospital room.
I won't explain scenes, as always. Interpretation is always very cool. If you know me from my contributions to the daily team during the last session, you know I'm a big fan of #ambiguity.
I've been told (by myself, imposter syndrome is quite the problem… it's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me…) the only reason I win anything in the writing competition is that I submit poetry, so I thought that for my last writing competition, I would enter a piece of prose instead to prove to myself I can write decent prose. Whether you believe this is a piece of prose, prose poetry, spoken word, or something else is up to you to decide.
Special thanks to starre-at-the-ceiling (@Stariqe), big bird (@Bellevue91), and toilet sitter (@bixez) for reading over and critiquing!
Tutorials I used for folding cranes:
https://www.instructables.com/How-to-make-a-Paper-Crane-1/
https://www.origamiway.com/origami-crane.shtml
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/youtube/KfnyopxdJXQ/
Definition of terminal heavily based off Oxford Language definition
(No, but actually, I have aphantasia so I really can't visualize things, so writing details is really difficult for me xD) They're mostly just there to detail what the narrator of the story was doing in the hospital room.Last edited by Polarbear_17 (Nov. 25, 2022 18:43:15)
- coolgirl100-
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
Daily 24: 310 words
Today:
A ghost had a huge smile on their face as they slumped in the garage next to the sunny playground. It was full of bright but rusting colours, yet children still climbed, slid, skipped, and smiled as they played around and explored the playground. Adults grinned and drank coffee at a steady distance. The ghost felt a lightness, a sunshine-y warmth as they watched the children frolic and play, as if they were out there, playing and skipping and basking in the summer light.
But as all ghosts know, they couldn't walk out into the sunshine. People would gasp and scream as if this was one huge horror movie, and ruin away and call the local police. But in the next few minutes, the purple ghost would be printed in newspapers, online and offline, around the world.
The world had been so cruel like that. All the ghost wanted to do was olay and smile, but it had to be locked away in an old garage, and turn green with yearning envy,
Ages ago:
Her father walks to the playground where their daughter used to love. It was brand new in the neighborhood, and not many people had been playing on it.
“She was the only one here.” The father said. She took out a bouquet of asphodels and roses and laid them down by the climbing frame. He was alone now, with no one to talk to, to take care of, or laugh with. He was friendless, and daughter-less wrapped up in his heavy, suffocating veil of mourning and grief.
The father looked around at the empty, solemn playground. No children playing, and the weeds growing thick and tall. He looked around and decided that something needed a slight cleaning up.
“There's no parkeeper for this place.” A sad smile settled lightly as the father sought his plan.
Today:
A ghost had a huge smile on their face as they slumped in the garage next to the sunny playground. It was full of bright but rusting colours, yet children still climbed, slid, skipped, and smiled as they played around and explored the playground. Adults grinned and drank coffee at a steady distance. The ghost felt a lightness, a sunshine-y warmth as they watched the children frolic and play, as if they were out there, playing and skipping and basking in the summer light.
But as all ghosts know, they couldn't walk out into the sunshine. People would gasp and scream as if this was one huge horror movie, and ruin away and call the local police. But in the next few minutes, the purple ghost would be printed in newspapers, online and offline, around the world.
The world had been so cruel like that. All the ghost wanted to do was olay and smile, but it had to be locked away in an old garage, and turn green with yearning envy,
Ages ago:
Her father walks to the playground where their daughter used to love. It was brand new in the neighborhood, and not many people had been playing on it.
“She was the only one here.” The father said. She took out a bouquet of asphodels and roses and laid them down by the climbing frame. He was alone now, with no one to talk to, to take care of, or laugh with. He was friendless, and daughter-less wrapped up in his heavy, suffocating veil of mourning and grief.
The father looked around at the empty, solemn playground. No children playing, and the weeds growing thick and tall. He looked around and decided that something needed a slight cleaning up.
“There's no parkeeper for this place.” A sad smile settled lightly as the father sought his plan.
Last edited by coolgirl100- (Nov. 24, 2022 17:25:11)
Lolll what a scrumdiddlyumptious signature
- seasiide
-
Scratcher
500+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
Narrator: The library is finally open after a week of pandemic after someone sick knocked over a whole shelf of books and sneezed on them. The bookworms rush inside, absolutely delighted, and bag their favorite bean bags or seats.The way you structured the sentence doesn’t really.. make sense? I dont really know, but the two ‘after’s make it a little confusing, so I’d changed it to something like this:
The library is finally open after a week of the pandemic, which was caused after an ill person knocked over a whole shelf of books and sneezed on them.And then ‘bag their favorite bean bags’ sounds repetitive, so maybe change it?
*children run inside while adults follow at a slower pace. Many people are returning overdue books and getting exceptions due to the pandemic.*I like this line! It gives off a general overview of what’s going on, and it’s clear to understand
Ava: *runs to the top floor immediately.*Maybe elaborate and say that Ava ran ‘up the stairs’ to the top floor, since it’s kind of confusing ^^ but everything else is fine! I also like Ava’s interactions with JoJo
Narrator: The library also had a book club. This was cheap, only five dollars a month, and people of all different ages would enter it. The book clubbers got access to way more books than the regular readers. This club was on the top floor, and you could only enter with a special card. That was almost the only electronic thing in the whole library.Maybe change ‘this’ before ‘was cheap’ to ‘it’? I think it makes more sense ^^ and if you want you can get rid of ‘different’ in ‘people of all different ages’ since it’s a little unnecessary, although it’s fine if you keep it!
but the interactions between JoJo, Skye, and Ava are good! I also like what the narrator’s saying and what’s going on
Narrator: Each one - Ava, Skye, and Jojo- stood in a line slowly growing behind them and inserted their library card and their book club card. You needed to pay 3 dollars a month for a library card. You couldn't check books out without a library card. You didn't need to have one, but if you did, you had to insert it too.Maybe change it to ‘inserted their library and book club cards’ so it’s clearer
and maybe ‘check out books’ instead of ‘check books out’but, otherwise, the information is very clear and interesting! i like how it highlights that it’s important
Jojo: Look, there are Iris and Twi!nice! it conveys their relationship with each other very well
Ava: *looks back and sees her other two friends there too.* *whispers* come on!! *gestures to hurry up*
Twi: *points at the line and then at her and Iris, and then at Ava.*
Skye: *shakes head* they'll catch up, don't worry.
*Ava, Skye, Jojo, and a few others enter the beautiful room. It has wood walls and floor, all polished. A small fireplace was in the middle of the room, away from the book. Most bookshelves are stuck to the walls, but a few are fancy trays that can be opened and closed. The different sofas are not only comfy but also attractive to the eye. There is one enormous carpet in the searing area*good! i like how beautiful and a few other words are used to describe the room. it makes it feel like the characters’ opinions are being shown.
Narrator: It feels like a second home to Ava and all the other readers.
This week is her turn to mention a book.the wording’s a little weird, so maybe change it to ‘this week, it’s her turn to mention a book’ or something ^^
and everything before this is good <3
Ava: Have all of you read Crystal House?i like this scene hehe. they’re all very fun and express their personality well here!
Narrator: The whole club explodes with delight. Chattering is heard everywhere, and the librarian comes up to ‘shush’ them. The readers sit down, embarrassed.
*readers look at each other in awkward silence*
Ava: *looks at them again* Have you?
Everyone: *choruses softly* Yes!
Ava: *puts a book of the series on the table* Today, we're going to discuss theories for the final book!
Raya: I already read it…oo foreshadowing? i like this a lot hehe :0
Narrator: But nobody heard Raya. They were all speaking softly amongst themselves, waiting to be called for their ideas. After five minutes, Ava speaks up again.
Ava: *clears throat* you can go first, Lax!i like how everyone is getting along except raya :0 thé way you structured this is really good and i’m getting invested lol
Lax: M-Me?!
Ava: *smile* yes, you.
Lax: *stands up awkwardly* Well, I ship Mark and Rhea way too much to make a rational decision-
Narrator: The chattering starts again. A slow chant of MARHEA fills the air, and the librarian comes again to glare at them.
Jasper: *raises hand* OOH! OOH! ME!!
Ava: Alright, what's your theory?
Jasper: I think Gray and Flint should totally get together! I mean, they look so cute! They'll DEFINITELY get together in this book.
Narrator: There is a murmur of agreeance amongst the crowd. And once again, nobody hears Raya say,
Raya: Actually, Gray gets with Fiona and Flint-
Ava: Who wants to go next?
Reese: Can I?
Ava: Of course!
Reese: *comes to the front of the crowd* Who here agrees that Jay shall be banished to the underworld?
Narrator: Everybody's hands shot up immediately, except Raya. Reese frowned, confused.
Ava: Why don't you think so, Raya?
Raya: Well, I already-
Twi: Ava, Ava, I have a grand theory!
Raya: *grumble*
Narrator: Raya was getting a bit annoyed at all these incorrect theories. And in fact, Raya was a bit of a blabbermouth too, but she tried not to be a spoiler for the sake of her club friends.
*Raya sits down, fiddling with her fingers.*i believe it’s supposed to be ‘scene’, not ‘seen’ hehe but nice!
Twi: I bet those nomad guys who captured Rhea have their own language or something! What was that extra seen explaining then, anyways? They were doing those weird motion thingies.
Everyone: *agrees instantly*this line displays their friendship really well! good
Raya: Finally, a correct theory…this is very enjoyable ehe
Narrator: Jojo, who is sitting next to Raya, looks at her with a confused look on her face.
Jojo: *whisper* What do you mean?
Raya: *relieved that someone finally knows* I already read the book.
Jojo: *betrayed* What do you mean?!
Raya: *I'm sorry! I accidentally bought it and couldn't stop myself from reading it!
Jojo: *understanding* It's okay. Just don't spoil anything!
Raya: *fiddling with thumbs* could I spoil one thing?
Jojo: *sarcastic smile* sure, go on.
Raya: *excited* Mark and Rhea will get married!!!!!
Jojo: *Surprised* really? What about Gray and Flint?
Narrator: Jojo is too curious for her liking but asks away anyways. She wants to know if her favorite ship gets together.
Raya: *awkward* Er… About that… I-
Ava: Raya! It's your turn for a theory!
Raya: But-
Narrator: Raya tries to think of an excuse for the sake of her friends.
Raya: My theories are really odd…
Ava: It doesn't matter how weird they are! Come on and tell us!
Raya: *walks to the front and takes a deep breath* well, the thing is, I've already read the book.
Everyone: *gasps of shock and disbelief*
Raya: I'm sorry! I picked it up at the shop and prevented myself from reading it for six days. But then I just read the whole book yesterday!
Icy: THEN TELL US IF GRAY AND FLINT GET TOGETHER!!!!
Narrator: Raya gulps. She doesn't want to tell them anything.
Raya: Actually-
Dawn: AND DOES STELLA BECOME ADMIRAL?!
Raya: *raises hands* You might not like the answers.
Everyone: TELL US.
Raya: I'll tell you the good news first. Mark and Rhea, GET MARRIED!!
the way they interact is *chefs kiss*
nice characterization! especially in a script; that’s pretty difficult
Narrator: The crowd screams in delight. The librarian comes up. She's very annoyed and tells them if they make any more noise, there'd be no club meetings for two weeks. The noise abruptly stopped.i think ‘no more club meetings’ would fit better, but otherwise, i like this is really good
Raya: But the bad news-lol xD they are pretty funny and it makes this very pleasing!
Icy: It can't be that bad!
Dawn: I've already done a mental essay on the most horrible outcomes!
Lax: Why are you so scared?
Raya: I am not responsible for the chaos. *takes a deep breath and starts rambling* Gray gets with Fiona, and Flint gets with Stella. Stella does not become admiral but leads the chase. Flint is with her. Flint and Stella didn't make it out since they protected the team.oo foreshadowing again xD but yeah those scenes are very realistic and exciting!
Everyone: *silence*
Narrator: It is so quiet you can hear the librarian turning the pages of a book downstairs. After a few minutes of horrified silence, Icy choked back a sob.
Dawn: I-is there anything- *voice cracks* thing else?
Raya: Are you sure you want to hear?
Ava: *nods mournfully*
Raya: *takes another deep breath* Jay doesn't get sent to the underworld. He gets away with it. That's the cliffhanger for the next series- *gets cut off by outraged gasps* And, he was the one who caused Flint and Stella's deaths. Also, Lola is… um…
Narrator: A few tears fall out of Raya's eyes. Lola is the innocent child who helped on every mission. She was obviously the favorite in the whole series.
Reese: *covers face with hands*
Jasper: do- don't tell me.
Raya: *nods miserably* That's how the book ends. She's… kil- *avoids the word* She is purposely made to pass away.
*a few minutes of grieving. The sound of the fireplace is the only thing that can be heard.*
Narrator: And then the chaos began.
Everyone: *Screams*nice characterization! again, it’s very realistic lol and enjoyable
Icy: *runs down crying*
Jasper and Twi: *hugging each other and running in a circle as if that would stop the crying*
Jojo: *starts glaring at Raya* WHY DID YOU TELL US?!?!
Raya: *shouts back* YOU ASKED ME TO!!!
Jojo and Raya: *start shouting at each other*
Lax: BUT ATLEAST MARK AND RHEA GET MARRIED- *Gets cut off by the final book thrown at his head*
Ava: WHO THREW THAT BOOK, YOU DISGRACEFUL RAT?!?! *tries to find the book thrower*
Dawn: *runs down to the librarian but then comes back up* *screams* *runs back down but comes back up again and starts shaking the nearest person*
Iris: *who was the nearest person getting shaken* LET *tries to pry off Dawn's hands* ME *starts shaking her too instead* GO!!!
Skye: WHY CAN'T WE EVER HAPPY ENDING?!?!?! *rocks back and forth in a ball on the ground*
Reese: *grabs the final book from the floor and puts it to her chest, cradling it while muttering insults to nobody*
Other members: *crying around*
Narrator: Yes, this was a bit too extreme. But imagine this, YOu've waited your whole life for a happy ending, and your favorite ship gets broken up because one of the people dies, and the best female in the book dies too. And after that, the villain isn't punished, and the sweet child has passed. And then, the book ends because the author loves to put a reader in a nutshell. Wouldn't you react this badly?
Librarian: *comes up* STOP THIS NONSENSE! *gets completely ignored*i like the ending! especially how the librarian is involved and changes hehe
Raya: *cries to the librarian about the problem*
Librarian: *who was also waiting for the same book* what?! *goes down to the desk and doesn't come up again.*
Ava: *comes with slipper* RAYA, I'M COMING FOR YOU.
Raya: EEK!
Narrator: And the readers chase Raya till sundown.
*scene where silhouettes of many people are chasing another girl's silhouette.*
Narrator: Moral of the story: don't be a spoiler, even if you are begged to be one.
overall, i really liked this piece! great job
“I told you.
I don’t want to
join your super
secret boy band.”
jade ◇ she/her ◇ swcer ◇ script ftw
in love with too many fictional characters ✨
- IzzyRS2010
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
୨ Daily 24 ୧
Dual timelines:
Royale Bakery
392 words including title
back:
back to dailies:
Emily set down a freshly baked strawberry pie on the counter, the sweet aroma permeating the bakery. It was fifteen minutes before the bakery opened, and Emily caught sight of a lengthy line forming outside.
Jasmine held up her skirt as she elegantly strode down the stairs.
To her shock, Royally dressed men were in a line, standing shoulder to shoulder.
“Mother, what is this?” she inquired, turning towards Queen Elmerelda.
“Your suitors, Jasmine.” the Queen explained, looking down at her as if she were already disappointed in Jasmine. With a flick of her hand, she summoned Mr. Augustus. He was one of the royal advisors, particularly one whose presence Jasmine did not enjoy.
Emily took out the final batch of cookies (delicious cookies is what anyone in the town might say) from the oven, the melting chocolate chips tempting her to sneak one for herself. At the opening hour, the sun just above the horizon and peeking through the clouds, Emily opened the door.
With a fake smile and a nasal voice, Mr. Augustus spoke, “Princess Jasmine, these are Royale suitors from different kingdoms, the best kingdoms, if I may say.” With as much amour propre as he could muster, Mr. Augustus marched over to the first suitor, then walked behind him.
“This is Prince Marlin from the kingdom of Cosmoylen,” he introduced.
Emily dashed back from the door to avoid being trampled by the oncoming customers. She ran to the counter as a flood of townspeople rushed into the bakery. Despite how rowdy they were, the customers formed two long lines curving around the bakery, as they always did when they came in the morning. The first customer eagerly waited for his turn.
Gliding behind the suitors like some snake, Mr. Augustus introduced the rest of the suitors. He then threw an expecting look at Emily, likely for some comment or decision, to which she frowned. Her mother interrupted the moment.
“Perhaps you should go on dinners with them all to see who is most fitting,” she suggested with fake saccharinity. To that, the suitors exploded into an argument about which was better for Jasmine.
“Welcome to Sunlight bakery! How may I help you?” Emily took the request of the first customer.
“Half a dozen chocolate chip cookies, please!” The man answered in a cheery voice.
Dual timelines:
Royale Bakery
392 words including title
back:
back to dailies:
Emily set down a freshly baked strawberry pie on the counter, the sweet aroma permeating the bakery. It was fifteen minutes before the bakery opened, and Emily caught sight of a lengthy line forming outside.
Jasmine held up her skirt as she elegantly strode down the stairs.
To her shock, Royally dressed men were in a line, standing shoulder to shoulder.
“Mother, what is this?” she inquired, turning towards Queen Elmerelda.
“Your suitors, Jasmine.” the Queen explained, looking down at her as if she were already disappointed in Jasmine. With a flick of her hand, she summoned Mr. Augustus. He was one of the royal advisors, particularly one whose presence Jasmine did not enjoy.
Emily took out the final batch of cookies (delicious cookies is what anyone in the town might say) from the oven, the melting chocolate chips tempting her to sneak one for herself. At the opening hour, the sun just above the horizon and peeking through the clouds, Emily opened the door.
With a fake smile and a nasal voice, Mr. Augustus spoke, “Princess Jasmine, these are Royale suitors from different kingdoms, the best kingdoms, if I may say.” With as much amour propre as he could muster, Mr. Augustus marched over to the first suitor, then walked behind him.
“This is Prince Marlin from the kingdom of Cosmoylen,” he introduced.
Emily dashed back from the door to avoid being trampled by the oncoming customers. She ran to the counter as a flood of townspeople rushed into the bakery. Despite how rowdy they were, the customers formed two long lines curving around the bakery, as they always did when they came in the morning. The first customer eagerly waited for his turn.
Gliding behind the suitors like some snake, Mr. Augustus introduced the rest of the suitors. He then threw an expecting look at Emily, likely for some comment or decision, to which she frowned. Her mother interrupted the moment.
“Perhaps you should go on dinners with them all to see who is most fitting,” she suggested with fake saccharinity. To that, the suitors exploded into an argument about which was better for Jasmine.
“Welcome to Sunlight bakery! How may I help you?” Emily took the request of the first customer.
“Half a dozen chocolate chip cookies, please!” The man answered in a cheery voice.
“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”
:¨·.·¨:
`·..·ˊ
- seasiide
-
Scratcher
500+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
11/24 (330 words): Sometimes one story is just not enough for the SWC community, which is why today's daily is a dual timeline. What is a dual timeline, you ask? It's a simple way to write two stories in just one writing piece. Start with the beginning of one time line, break in whatever way you see fit, and begin the second timeline. You may do so as many times as you'd like, provided that it is 300 words or more. This will award you 200 points, plus 100 more if you share. Here is an example of the formatting: welcome to story number one. Here is the exposition. || Now we are in the second timeline. This is fun. || And back to the first timeline.
TW: Violence, death
Giselle walks across the barren grounds. They seem to stretch for miles and miles on end, resembling a desert with nothing but sand. The only thing Giselle sees is dirt, gravel, and pieces of fairly deteriorated rock. When she sees a splotch of red staining some areas, she, alarmed, steps back, her boots making a crunching sound on something beneath them. She raises her foot and cries out in alarm; there is the unremarkable shape and color of a ske!eton.
“What happened here?” she asks, mostly to herself, as she continues to look around.
//
The sounds of gxns cocking, grunts as people fall to the floor, and bu!!ets whistling past become almost second nature as Florence ducks behind a bundle of hay, her back pressed against it and hurriedly praying for survival.
//
Giselle squints, eyeing a tall, dark blob far off in the distance. She sets off towards it.
//
Florence looks around at her surroundings. There wasn’t much to hide behind; everything had been knocked over, obliterated, and/or pulverized. But there was one thing still standing.
//
When Giselle reaches it, she gasps. It resembled a fortress, with its arches, height, and massive size. Giselle stepped forward, running her hands over the hard texture and staring in awe.
//
It looks almost untouched, like it has a protective shield around it that prevents it from crumbling into dust like the structures around it. When the time is right, meaning that when mostly everyone is reloading and not shooting at her, Florence sprints across the battlefield, barely managing to dodge a bu!!et that lightly grazes her ear.
//
It was barely broken, unlike the other ruins around Giselle, which shouldn’t have been possible —it looked ancient, maybe even hundreds of years old.
//
Florence grunts, annoyed. But that annoyance suddenly changes to joy at her new hiding spot. The bu!!ets that are aimed at her always miss; they are somehow deflected or miss her entirely.
“Thank you,” Florence whispered, looking up at the sky.
Last edited by seasiide (Nov. 24, 2022 18:22:17)
“I told you.
I don’t want to
join your super
secret boy band.”
jade ◇ she/her ◇ swcer ◇ script ftw
in love with too many fictional characters ✨
- Whirlygig
-
Scratcher
500+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
Main cabin daily - dual timelines
November 24, 2022
oh and this is a marvel fanfiction idk what about but I do like it :>
November 24, 2022
Agent Carter ran through the halls of the S.S.R.’s base, her heels clacking on the ground in a way that was much louder than she would have liked. If she kept on making noise like this, they were bound to figure out where she was eventually. Sighing with resignation, Carter slipped off her heels, held them in one hand, and took off barefoot toward the archives.538 words
“Are you sure it’s here?”
“Yes, I’m sure. There’s no way it could be anywhere else.”
“But are you sure.” Yelena Belova looked at Agent Hill pointedly.
Hill glared back. “For the last time, I am absolutely positively without a doubt one hundred percent sure that it’s here.”
“I don’t think it’s here.”
“Yelena, for the last time!” Agent Hill was done arguing. “If Carter had any reason to believe that Cap would ever come back, she would have known to put it someplace she knew he’d find it. Which would be here.”
Yelena was still unsure, but she took the cue to shut up. “Here we are,” she said, gesturing to a door with a big sign on it saying “ARCHIVES.”
Carter didn’t know how much time she had, so she had to act fast. Nobody ever came in the archives anymore, including her; they had been outdated since even the First World War. Which made them the perfect place to hide something. Except now she had no idea where to go.
“Axel… Bachelor… Barnes!”
She skidded to a top in front of the shelf containing the Barnes folder, and placed the report inside.
“This place must be ancient!”
“No kidding. I’ve never been in here before. Judging by the dust, nobody has in a long time.”
Yelena laughed. “Exactly how old is this place?”
“Old,” Hill replied. “Pre-World-War-I old. It was last updated during the World War II draft.”
“Okay. So what are we looking for?”
“I don’t know what exactly,” Hill said thoughtfully, “but I’ll know it when I see it.”
The two walked through the archives, through shelves upon shelves of boxes and folders and reports and files. Suddenly, Agent Hill stopped.
“Here,” she said. “It’s here.”
Yelena raised an eyebrow and pulled out the file folder in question.
“Barnes, James B.,” she read. She opened the folder and started rifling through it. “High school transcripts, army application, letters to his mother…” She stopped.
“What?” Hill asked.
“This one’s different. All of these are dated from during or before the War, but this one is from the fifties.”
Hill snatched it out of Yelena’s hands. It was a news report from the 1950s, something about an unnamed gunsman killing several dignitaries. The grainy person in the photo in the article was indistinguishable except for a metal arm.
“We were right. He is alive.”
Agent Carter needed to get the heck out of the archives, now. Nobody could know that she’d been here, and they couldn’t know about the knowledge she had. The news article had never gotten to the presses, she’d made sure of that, but somebody had to know.
“Steve,” Carter whispered to herself as she snuck out of the complex, “if you’re still here, please help Bucky. He needs you.
“I need you.”
oh and this is a marvel fanfiction idk what about but I do like it :>
why can't we give love that one more chance?
stingray, she/her, fantasy 3/24!
stingray, she/her, fantasy 3/24!
- _gardenia_
-
Scratcher
65 posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
weekly #4 - abwc
THE Ë̵͚̤̤͚̝́͑̔n̷̢̝̘̪̥̣̱̑̑̎͊̇̃̂ḑ̵̢̢̥̫̄̽̌͊̑͋̾̄̾̚͜ OF THE BEGINNING
otherwise known as ä̸̮̘̈b̸̮̭̯͌̉̚ş̷̩͚͖̍̃̊̏ũ̶̧̟̞̬̗͙̺͖̮͚̔͒͑̔̓͘͝͝r̴̨̼̻̹̮͓̮̬̭̳̄̓̇̐͐͂d̵͓̗̩̤̔͑̎̔̋͆l̷̢̢̖̠͖̯̰̇̎̋̀͌͗́͆̕͘ẙ̸͔̤̌͗̇͗͝ ̷̨̛̤̻̖͖̠͉̞͍Ō̸̝͈̩͇̙̽̚͠Y̴̛̜̼̅̈́̈́͛̈́͝D̷̨̫̹̰̪̊̅͒̃́̍͝c̷̢͚͓̗̼̖̮̫̣͙̆̈́̌̿̊̍ȩ̴̝̭̫͛A̵̡̯̝͓̳͆̀̉̾͋͋͆͘͝ͅẅ̴͙̥̙̠̦̹̫̱̖́̂͒̅͌̑̊͊̈͘O̸͉̹͇̝̲̘͎͛̐̅́̎̏̈́̍̊q̴̘̙͕̀̄̀͋̇̈́̀͘͝1̴͕̬̖̘̆͂ͅt̶̡̘̣̖͍̹̻́̍́̎̈́̕s̶͎̼̯̣̒̀͜s̷͔͒̆̀̒̈́͒́̚͠a̸̝̩͙͑̈́̐͐͊̃͐̑͠ļ̶̪͉̫̩̗̯́̓̈́͛͒!̶͎̰̰͍͕̎̊͌͗̊̚͠@̴̡͍̮̬͍͚̘͔̦͇̃̋́̎̎̈́
{ set around n̸͇͈̤̰͍̟̤̭̈́͑͒̐o̶̘̒̀̓͊̉̉w̵̡̢̬͖̞̺̔̑͆̅̀͗̎͒h̵̤̥̰́͠!mē̸̺̈́̍̾͝r̷̩͆̈́̏ȅ̸̱̼͇̦͎̎͑́̔̓̆̕͘,̵̳̜͖̤̤̗̱̂͒̐̀͠ ̵͎̝͇͔͎̉̀͋͆̅͋h̶̛͉͍̜̼̯̥̄̓̇͒͂͘ę̶̛͙͒͋́̈́̓r̴͖͓̦̺̮͍̳̞̲͔͂̔͠24e̸͕͍̘̩̼̲̗̦͑͘̕ ̶̩̼͈̭̩͖̟̂̆̓̽̚̕ỏ̶͉͉̮̙̾̋̏IOŗ̴̧͍̝̫̦̭̩̦̙͐ ̸͉̻̊̅̐́̈́̎͂͒̐n̶̹̤͇̣̬̳͛̌͑̊̋̽̋́̆e̷̞͖͉͚̦͊̓̑̓͊̀͠ͅv̵̮̣̳̪͇͍̲̺̑e̶̪͔̯̬̾̂͘͘r̷͎̺͚͕̜̹̙̭̖̾͊̓̾̿̿͆͘) }
THE Ë̵͚̤̤͚̝́͑̔n̷̢̝̘̪̥̣̱̑̑̎͊̇̃̂ḑ̵̢̢̥̫̄̽̌͊̑͋̾̄̾̚͜ OF THE BEGINNING
otherwise known as ä̸̮̘̈b̸̮̭̯͌̉̚ş̷̩͚͖̍̃̊̏ũ̶̧̟̞̬̗͙̺͖̮͚̔͒͑̔̓͘͝͝r̴̨̼̻̹̮͓̮̬̭̳̄̓̇̐͐͂d̵͓̗̩̤̔͑̎̔̋͆l̷̢̢̖̠͖̯̰̇̎̋̀͌͗́͆̕͘ẙ̸͔̤̌͗̇͗͝ ̷̨̛̤̻̖͖̠͉̞͍Ō̸̝͈̩͇̙̽̚͠Y̴̛̜̼̅̈́̈́͛̈́͝D̷̨̫̹̰̪̊̅͒̃́̍͝c̷̢͚͓̗̼̖̮̫̣͙̆̈́̌̿̊̍ȩ̴̝̭̫͛A̵̡̯̝͓̳͆̀̉̾͋͋͆͘͝ͅẅ̴͙̥̙̠̦̹̫̱̖́̂͒̅͌̑̊͊̈͘O̸͉̹͇̝̲̘͎͛̐̅́̎̏̈́̍̊q̴̘̙͕̀̄̀͋̇̈́̀͘͝1̴͕̬̖̘̆͂ͅt̶̡̘̣̖͍̹̻́̍́̎̈́̕s̶͎̼̯̣̒̀͜s̷͔͒̆̀̒̈́͒́̚͠a̸̝̩͙͑̈́̐͐͊̃͐̑͠ļ̶̪͉̫̩̗̯́̓̈́͛͒!̶͎̰̰͍͕̎̊͌͗̊̚͠@̴̡͍̮̬͍͚̘͔̦͇̃̋́̎̎̈́
{ set around n̸͇͈̤̰͍̟̤̭̈́͑͒̐o̶̘̒̀̓͊̉̉w̵̡̢̬͖̞̺̔̑͆̅̀͗̎͒h̵̤̥̰́͠!mē̸̺̈́̍̾͝r̷̩͆̈́̏ȅ̸̱̼͇̦͎̎͑́̔̓̆̕͘,̵̳̜͖̤̤̗̱̂͒̐̀͠ ̵͎̝͇͔͎̉̀͋͆̅͋h̶̛͉͍̜̼̯̥̄̓̇͒͂͘ę̶̛͙͒͋́̈́̓r̴͖͓̦̺̮͍̳̞̲͔͂̔͠24e̸͕͍̘̩̼̲̗̦͑͘̕ ̶̩̼͈̭̩͖̟̂̆̓̽̚̕ỏ̶͉͉̮̙̾̋̏IOŗ̴̧͍̝̫̦̭̩̦̙͐ ̸͉̻̊̅̐́̈́̎͂͒̐n̶̹̤͇̣̬̳͛̌͑̊̋̽̋́̆e̷̞͖͉͚̦͊̓̑̓͊̀͠ͅv̵̮̣̳̪͇͍̲̺̑e̶̪͔̯̬̾̂͘͘r̷͎̺͚͕̜̹̙̭̖̾͊̓̾̿̿͆͘) }
the start of an adventure // 157 words - intro
A girl shadowed by the swaying oak trees overhead snuck her way through the forest, carrying a basket full of an assortment of delicious foods. She hurried, her steps light and quick as she jumped over fallen trees and small streams. Her dull, ragged red cloak fluttered behind her in the breeze. That was her nickname, “Little Red Riding Hood” or “Riding Hood” for short.
The child chuckled softly to herself as she made her way through the forest— traveling to her grandmother’s house. She had decided to surprise her grandmother while she was sick with home-baked food she and her mother had lovingly prepared in their cozy cottage kitchen. Too bad her grandmother lived all the way in the heart of the woods, where not one soul but the lumberjack and herself had ever ventured through. If only she lived in town, then Riding Hood wouldn’t have to traverse for hours just to pay a visit.
in 100 words, make your character remember a time they have stolen from someone and then given it back // 206 words - hi-fi
The scent of apple pie and loaves of bread filled the chilly forest air, reminding Riding Hood of something she had done in the past. It was actually quite similar to what was happening now. She remembered delivering a basket of pastries to her grandmother when she caught a cold, and her grandmother's raspy yet sweet voice saying, "How delightful! You must've worked hard to bake all these pastries, my dear." Riding Hood's stomach clenched in guilt as she walked through the forest, thinking about what had happened. That time, she didn't bake the pastries at all, in fact, she stole them from an innocent passerby.
Riding Hood didn't know why she did it, but she did it like it was an instinct. Maybe she was just desperate for something to get for her grandmother? Pulling her cloak tighter around her, Riding Hood reprimanded herself that she did give something back to that poor man. Half of the pastries she stole she gave back, not letting her grandmother eat them despite her complaints. Riding Hood told her that they were for a “friend” and she couldn't have them all. But why was she thinking about this? Her grandmother was waiting, and she didn't have all day.
write as much as you can for your wpm multiplied by 10 // 10:30 - poetry
Gardenia Forest was the most gorgeous forest Riding Hood ever saw, with all its creatures and unique plants. It was named accordingly too, for there were several flower fields hidden in the forest— poppies and dandelions and lilies and violets and all sorts. Even if the flowers did make Riding Hood sneeze every time she sniffed them, her grandmother didn't and she thought it would be a nice surprise to get her some flowers. Dandelions were her grandmother's favorite, so she would just grab a handful. Maybe add some lilies in the makeshift bouquet as well.
write for 5 minutes about your character walking into a situation with newfound confidence, dazzling everybody - dystopian
With new-found confidence, Riding Hood raced northwest, knowing that a flower field lay there. She knew this forest like the back of her hand— she explored so much during her visits to her grandmother. Her eyes spotted a blot of yellow far ahead— dandelions. A smile lit up her pale face, and she sprinted towards that yellow blot which got bigger and bigger as she approached. It was a flower field filled with dandelions, with poppies and violets poking around. Bees buzzed around the abundance of flowers, butterflies fluttered around, and squirrels played tag without fear of getting eaten— hidden. They all stopped when Riding Hood appeared, her smile so bright and cheerful, dazzling all the creatures.
write 150 words about your character beginning sinking // 231 words - thriller
The forest creatures were dazzled for only a minute, though, and got back to their work almost immediately. Riding Hood got knelt down, grass blades scraping her bare knees, and steadily pulled flowers out of the ground— tugging soil-encrusted roots off. Dirt blemished her pale skin, but she thought it was quite pretty since it matched the skirts of her dull brown dress. The yellow petals of the “weed” were delicate and frail, almost falling off as Riding Hood placed them on top of her basket. Bringing one to her nose to sniff, Riding Hood's sage green eyes twitched, and she sneezed soon after. Giggling, she continued plucking, careful not to disturb the wildlife. Only a couple more flowers and she would be off. A fresh burst of wind swept through her hair, tickling the back of her neck. All was going fair and well, but of course, trouble snuck its way to everything.
As Riding Hood grabbed her basket and got up— dusting off dirt and such from her dress, she swore the ground beneath her was waning. It was like a sinking feeling, but she cast the thought away— probably just her imagination or something. But as she took a step forward, the ground beneath her crumbled away faster than one could say, “Wait!” The once bright flowers bent around her, forming a circle. And then she was sinking.
write 250 words // 270 words - fantasy
Sinking down, down, down— petals all around her. Her eyes were closed so as not to get whatever substance she was sinking in, in. What had just happened? What was going on? Was it all a dream? Wasn't she just in the forest a minute ago? Questions raced through her head as she panted for air, her arms waving wildly around. Riding Hood tried to scream for help, but her lungs couldn't allow any more precious air to escape. The substance clouted her mind, making it impossible for her to think. Riding Hood could feel her rapid heartbeat under all her panic. All the food and flowers were long forgotten, probably rotting away somewhere— covered in bacteria with bugs crawling all over. Grandmother is going to be so disappointed… She felt her body give up, her muscles unclenching. She was relenting, slowly understanding her fate…
Suddenly, out of nowhere, she felt somebody grabbing her hand and pulling her up. Thank the lord! She thought, Somebody's come to save me! Riding Hood got hauled up, the weird substance breaking around her. Her lungs were blessed with fresh forest air, even if she had only been sinking for a couple of seconds. It felt like a decade to Riding Hood. Eyes fluttering open, she saw that all her clothes were cleansed, strangely. Not even one stain. Everything looked the same as before— all the creatures were calm, not even bothered by the fact that Riding Hood had just sunk under the ground. It was like it had never happened. Looking around, she couldn't see a single human soul. Who had helped her?
{ * * * }
in the next 100 words, your character is forced to face a challenging obstacle relating to the setting // 111 words - (b)adventure
Riding Hood couldn't find her basket anywhere, no matter how hard she looked. There wasn't a trace of her presence anywhere, not one single blade of grass or flower out of place. It was like she was never there, no trace of her at all. Nobody would know that a little girl like her ever skipped through these once bright flower fields, full of joy and cheer. How had things changed in such a short matter of time? Why did the world seem so dark all of the sudden? All she had left were the clothes on her back. The forest didn't seem so friendly anymore, but it never really had.
write for five minutes at your own pace :)) - horror
She had never been scared of the forest before— Riding Hood never realized how big the forest was, how strange it was that her grandmother would choose to live in the heart of the forest. It never struck her as strange or eerie, it never sank into Riding Hood how odd everything was— until now.
write a 150 word flashback - // 267 words, 163 words flashback - fan-fi
Riding Hood remembered something else as she cowered, hiding inside a nearby bush. A very bitter memory resurfaced inside her mind from when she was four. Her mother always told her the story over and over, never letting Riding Hood forget what had happened, even if it was from a second-hand source. She used to think that her toddler self was so foolish, but now, shivering inside a prickly thorn bush like the coward she now was— she understood everything. Every fear everyone else had told her about the forest suddenly crowded into her already jumbled head, squeezing themselves in— trying to make room…
She held her mother's warm hand—still there, not gone—and pulled. The unearthly forest loomed over the pair, with the little one trying to get away as fast as possible. The elder, on the other hand, stood firm. She smiled down at her child and reassured them, her face full of determination. It had been seven long years since she had spared even a single glance toward the forest, but now it was finally time for the legacy to continue. She couldn't hide forever. The mother ushered the child and her inside the forest, staying on the worn-down path taken by the hikers that went through. A fresh rain had just fallen, covering the wildlife in small droplets of water—dew—that caught the glint of the sun, shining brightly. A light breeze wound through the open air, ruffing tree leaves. Gardenia Forest had never looked more magical than that morning on April 2nd ^̶͖̙̃́̈́̊̉̈́̓̎̓͜͝ͅ&̷̨̝͉̲̗͘9̴̦͉̄̆̏̑̈́͝1̸̛͇̟͛ͅ%̴̢̉̀@̶̢͍͕̖͍́̎͊͘#̶̡͉̻̘̘̺͔̯̖͂̒̃̂̌͜͝, and it never would again. A screech echoed throughout the forest.
write for 26 minutes - n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞$ă̶̸̝ͦ͊̿͋͞n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘-fi
Laying against the softer parts of the bush, a pale white hand lifted to the sky—reaching but never achieving. The clouds looked so fluffy and bright in the dark sky… Riding Hood would've loved to grab one out of the sky and eat it. The trees with their grey leaves, the flowers with their blood-red c̷̹͖͋́̃r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟m̶̷͔ͪ̽͡s̩͙͖̋͛͟ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ petals… Ah, what was she thinking about again? The trees didn't have grey leaves, they had green, a dark, rich green… It looked so grey, though… Green leaves, dead petals, ẅ̷̷̢̟͇͈̒i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟t̴͕͖͓̀h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜ flowers… Her head was spinning out of control…
Her hand dropped down, but she still gazed at the sky. If only she was a bird. She could be free of everything… Spreading her wings and soaring away from all the troubles in her life… It must be delightful to be a flying creature… The wind beneath your wings, whistling in your ear, that adrenaline building up inside of you. Free, free as one of those beautiful birds in the sky… Oh, how much she would give to be one of them.
But she had a duty to do, didn't she? Grandmother was waiting… There wasn't any time to waste when somebody was waiting. It all felt like a dream to Riding Hood, every single thing that had happened. Maybe none of it was even real in the first place… Whatever she thought, the little girl still stood up, and continued to her grandmother's house—even without the food she had previously carried—with determination. She would find something to give to her grandmother, even if it was only the kindness in her own heart or the presence of a loved family member.
write 250 words at your own pace ^-^ // 256 words - folklore
Riding Hood ran as fast she could—b̵̸͙̅̽͡ͅḻ̸ͧ͑̓̓̀͡&$!d̸̡̩͍̔ͥ͜ ȍ̸̢̢̮͚̐̚$n̷̶̯͉̊̽̐ͦ͘ h̶̯̰̝̻̿̓͢ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊r̶̷̲͍̭͐̾̀͟ ḻ̸͈ͧ͑̓̓̀͡i̵͓͙̱͚̎͟ę̷̵̧̖̫̗̆̊s̩͙͖̋͛͟, but the sky was open wide. A sudden rush of adrenaline rushed through her for no apparent reason, just that she had to make it to her grandmother's house. The heart of the forest was far away, but if she kept up this pace, she would be at the lovely shingled cottage in no time. Her boots took a beating as she flew, her cape flowing right behind her. Plants got trampled under her feet every other second, with a nonstop break. The world didn't seem to be real anymore… What was even happening anymore? It was as if all sorts of timelines had mixed together, fused with bits and pieces of alternate universes. This wasn't Riding Hood anymore, was it? It was a mere clone, somebody not from this world… But, but… Yes, indeed, the world was spiraling quickly out of control. There was no sense to this hellscape anymore. Everything had fallen out of the window, lost to time forever. The world was now a scrambled jumble of anything. And it was not going to get fixed anytime soon.
But sense still flows…right? It was still the story of Little Red Riding Hood, just glued together with other thousands of other versions. Surely, the ending must be relating to the original story in some sort of way… Hopefully, nothing changed in between the process of fixing this mess. Or else, the story would come out worse than it had entered.
The $̶̨̡͇͖͎̯̟̣̠͐͐̐̓ǹ̴̢̡̙̣͉͚̝̙̣̏͑̃ä̸̧̪͖́͌̈̊̑͛́͠5̷̥͖̞͌r̶̨̞̘̣̫̻̹͓͈̱̓͆̄̊̿͊̓@̵̥̟̻̈́͒̃͑̀̚á̷̙̟̗̪̠̥͉͔͓̚t̶̮̯̮̺̯̰̘̭̙̝̎8̵͈͓̩̗̙̎̐̒͋̒͘͝͝ͅ*̴͇͈̓̐̑͊ŏ̷̮̺͙͖̩̥̐͘r̵̭̠̤̭͌͆̆̐̊̍̌̈ stops speaking.
roll a dice and multiply that # by 100 (write 300 words) // 300 words - bi-fi
{TIMELINE r̸̢̼̰̯̅͊̂͘ě̴̫͂̓̋̒̿͐͝ͅṣ̵̡̢̤͔̲͂͋̊̂̎̉͌e̵̞̹͎̥̲̩͇̿̓t̸̲̦̥̤̄̈́}
A girl shadowed by the swaying oak trees overhead snuck her way through the forest, carrying a basket full of delicious pastries. She hurried— footsteps quick and light as she jumped over fallen trees and small streams. Her dull, ragged red cloak fluttered behind her in the breeze.
The child chuckled softly to herself as she made her way through the forest, traveling to her grandmother’s house. She had decided to surprise her grandmother while she was sick with home-baked food she and her mother had lovingly prepared in her cozy cottage kitchen. Too bad her grandmother lived all the way in the heart of the woods where not one soul but the lumberjack and herself had ever ventured through. If only she lived in town, then she wouldn’t have to traverse for hours just to visit her grandmother.
Too bad, but it would be no difficult task. Just a jaunty trip through the woods and to grandmother’s house she would go. Oh, won’t she just be so excited! Plus, it was such a lovely day. The sun was out in a cloudless, brilliant blue sky— birds were chirping their sweet songs to each other, like a daydream, a fantasy out of the happiest of dreams.
Oh! Look at that flower field ahead!
Up ahead, a beautiful flower field lay, basking in the sun’s wonderful, warm rays. Full of bright poppies, dandelions, and all sorts— it was a paradise. Wouldn’t it be nice to pick some flowers for grandmother? the young girl thought to herself. There are so many! Surely it wouldn’t hurt to pick some.
And so, with this thought in mind, she started towards the flowers, ecstatic. A sweet, floral smell enveloped the air like a warm blanket as the girl danced and pranced in the flower field.
sprint for 3 minutes where everything your character touches turns into a certain object - sci-fi
{TIMELINE REACTIVATED}
Everything had reactivated again. The narrator had no control.
Riding Hood sprinted through the forest, twisting around a low branch, accidentally brushing it with her rough hands as she whipped by. A howl of a wolf sounded nearby… A pounding of steps sounded from behind her. The girl's legs almost buckled at the sound of the howl, but she made it by, jumping over a river using the stones that lay embedded in the mud.
in the next 150 words, don't mention any of your characters at all - script
Grey fur flashed, footsteps thundered, the forest shook. She didn't dare look behind, just kept running. How did this happen? Well, a short time ago she must've caught attention with all her running and such. That was a horrible move of hers, but nevertheless, she didn't stop to think about it for too long. She had somewhere to go, somewhere to be, that certainly wasn't in there. But her legs… They were tiring so quickly, and she knew she would collapse soon and be devoured whole. It would be her fate, in the end.
So she stopped.
“Hey, you!”
What.
“Yeah you, thank God you stopped!”
What in the world…
“I have something to give you, something for your grandmother! A basket, a basket full of treats! I know you dropped yours.”
This can't be happening… But everything has been so strange recently…
“I was the one who pulled you up that time you sank into the time-bending water, remember? That's why everything has been changing and getting mixed up, but you seem to be accepting it, somehow. Others before you haven't adapted so quickly.”
in the next 125 words, your character realizes something vital // 142 words - mystery
“You're not here to hurt me?”
“Why would I?”
“Then why were you chasing me?”
“To give you the present?”
“But… how in the world?…”
“It isn't up to me to judge this world. Blame it on the narrator, okay, kiddo?”
So she took the basket by the hand and thanked the wolf who spoke in growls and barks. Uncovering the basket, she saw an assortment of baked goods, bread, cakes, the works. This world was stranger than she thought. A wolf gifting a lonesome girl a basket of food to give to her grandmother? It would be unimaginable to anybody else, but Riding Hood had experienced some strange things today, so she didn't question anything. All she knew was that she had received a gift to give to her grandmother and that she was to deliver it. And so she would.
in the next 150 words, build up a happy scene that leads to a dark plot twist - real-fi
Riding Hood was almost out of breath, keyword almost. Panting, she put a hand on the dark wood of her grandmother's cottage door. Her other hand held the basket of treats the wolf gave her. Everything had gone perfectly. Thank God— was he even real? Something had happened along the way, but she wasn't quite sure what. When had that talking wolf appeared and saved her? But it had all happened, in some way or another. Weird, strange, and creepy even how this forest worked, but everything had fitted itself smoothly together like a puzzle. All loose ends were tied together in the end.
Knocking on the door, she heard a familiar voice call from inside, “Is that you, my dear?”
“Grandmother!” she shouted, a smile blooming on her lips. Finally, she was going to see her grandmother again.
“Come in, honey,” her grandmother said.
Pushing the door open, Riding Hood entered the small thing that was her grandmother's abode. Her grandmother lay on her tiny oak bed, yellow covers pulled up to her neck. Taking delicate steps, Riding Hood carefully placed the basket of treats onto a bedside table. “Are those treats for me, darling?” her grandmother sounded excited.
“Of course they are!”
“Oh, you didn't have to, sweety–”
Something was at the door. Somebody was at the door. It was the lumberjack who lived not too far away from grandmother.
“Get behind me, girl!”
“What?”
“I said, get behind ME!”
“What?”
“She's a wolf!”
“Who?”
“Your grandmother!”
“What?… WAIT!”
write 100 words to conclude // 134 words - ending
The lumberjack was never to be heard of again. Little Red Riding Hood was never to be heard of again. Her grandmother was never to be heard from again. The Big “Bad” Wolf was never to be heard of again. But Riding Hood's mother still persisted. Despite everything that had happened, this seemingly frail housewife somehow managed to outlast everybody connected to her story. It all started with her, and it would all end with her. The town's people eventually chopped down the entirety of Gardenia Forest over the span of centuries, out of fear or determination, one could never tell. But the mother persisted. She lived whilst everyone else died. She saw everything go down but never lifted a single finger to help them. But who will continue her legacy after she passes?
Your Journey: hifi, option #1, poetry, option #3, dystopian, option #3, thriller, option #1, fantasy, option #3, adventure, option #1, horror, option #2, fanfi, option #1, nonfi, option #2, folklore, option #2, bifi, option #2, scifi, option #3, script, option #1, mystery, option #1, realfi, option #1
A/N: i feel so bad for the people who have wpm above 70 *sob* /gen I can't even write that much in ten minutes ;-; btw, those DETERMINATION things were purposefully done, of course. I'm on a undertale binge watching spree
Last edited by _gardenia_ (Nov. 30, 2022 00:38:50)
- puffyfish
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
daily 24 - dual timelines
word count: 605
It was only around a hundred years before when the sky turned that dark, ugly crimson that was now still seen everywhere around the world. When the rain turned to fire and burned all the grass and all the trees. When the rivers ran orange and red, and flared up against the face of the now-dark world. But since then, it has gotten… a bit more normal… at least they all say.
My footsteps echo against the walls of the ravine, each step sounding more and more frantic as I desperately run against the flowing lava that seems to chase after me. It had been an accident, I swear; I’d never meant to break the dam, never knew that the rock I had thrown would happen to land in its weakest spot. Now, the ravine that had been my hunting ground was flooding, along with probably many of the tunnels that held people’s homes.
After what seems like an eternity, I arrive at the main passageway up to the city, and when I see it is locked, I slam on it with all my might, yelling to anyone who might be on the other side… and it is finally opened and closed again just in time, just when the lava catches up to us, drowning the last remnant of the ravine in the dark, hellish red that seems to be the only thing our world knows…
“Any news?” I ask my adviser as I stand atop the inner wall of the castle, overlooking my small domain with a mixture of anticipation, annoyance, and melancholy-the same three feelings that have seemed to hang over the walls like a cloud for the past twenty years.
“Nothing that troubles any of us, Your Majesty.”
“Well that makes it seem like there’s something that’s happened-go on, tell me.”
“Just something over in one of the other nations. Some sort of dam broke.”
“Ah, well. What did they expect?”
My adviser nodded at that, then with my permission went back to his other duties, leaving me back to my own devices. I pace around the narrow pathway atop the wall, stopping at one point to talk to a guard.
“You-has your group made any more progress against the monsters lately?”
“Not much, Your Majesty-we’re still holding the plains to the north, and some of us think that we might even be able to carve a path to the settlement. That’ll open up thousands of opportunities.”
“That’s good news,” I respond, keeping all the external formality needed-but inside, I can barely contain myself: a path could be opened. To other people. The guard was right-this opened up millions of new opportunities.
“Tell the others that I want them to launch the attack as soon as possible,” I finally say, and for the first time in a decade I feel a glimmer of hope.
“You flooded the ravine!”
“You broke the dam?”
“What have you done?”
“You’ve doomed us all!”
Those four comments seemed to have been all I’ve heard since I came back that day-now already a month ago. In the tunnels, which had once been my home and the dearest place for me, I am now an outcast, chased away at every door, tormented by every old friend. I’ve found that my only solace is now on the surface-but not even in the main city, where I am just as looked down upon as anyone else-but in the plains around it, the safe part. Well, safer. Ever since those strange people from across the river took it over, things have been… interesting, but at least they all treat me fine. (stopped prematurely as I probably won't have enough time to finish)
word count: 605
It was only around a hundred years before when the sky turned that dark, ugly crimson that was now still seen everywhere around the world. When the rain turned to fire and burned all the grass and all the trees. When the rivers ran orange and red, and flared up against the face of the now-dark world. But since then, it has gotten… a bit more normal… at least they all say.
My footsteps echo against the walls of the ravine, each step sounding more and more frantic as I desperately run against the flowing lava that seems to chase after me. It had been an accident, I swear; I’d never meant to break the dam, never knew that the rock I had thrown would happen to land in its weakest spot. Now, the ravine that had been my hunting ground was flooding, along with probably many of the tunnels that held people’s homes.
After what seems like an eternity, I arrive at the main passageway up to the city, and when I see it is locked, I slam on it with all my might, yelling to anyone who might be on the other side… and it is finally opened and closed again just in time, just when the lava catches up to us, drowning the last remnant of the ravine in the dark, hellish red that seems to be the only thing our world knows…
“Any news?” I ask my adviser as I stand atop the inner wall of the castle, overlooking my small domain with a mixture of anticipation, annoyance, and melancholy-the same three feelings that have seemed to hang over the walls like a cloud for the past twenty years.
“Nothing that troubles any of us, Your Majesty.”
“Well that makes it seem like there’s something that’s happened-go on, tell me.”
“Just something over in one of the other nations. Some sort of dam broke.”
“Ah, well. What did they expect?”
My adviser nodded at that, then with my permission went back to his other duties, leaving me back to my own devices. I pace around the narrow pathway atop the wall, stopping at one point to talk to a guard.
“You-has your group made any more progress against the monsters lately?”
“Not much, Your Majesty-we’re still holding the plains to the north, and some of us think that we might even be able to carve a path to the settlement. That’ll open up thousands of opportunities.”
“That’s good news,” I respond, keeping all the external formality needed-but inside, I can barely contain myself: a path could be opened. To other people. The guard was right-this opened up millions of new opportunities.
“Tell the others that I want them to launch the attack as soon as possible,” I finally say, and for the first time in a decade I feel a glimmer of hope.
“You flooded the ravine!”
“You broke the dam?”
“What have you done?”
“You’ve doomed us all!”
Those four comments seemed to have been all I’ve heard since I came back that day-now already a month ago. In the tunnels, which had once been my home and the dearest place for me, I am now an outcast, chased away at every door, tormented by every old friend. I’ve found that my only solace is now on the surface-but not even in the main city, where I am just as looked down upon as anyone else-but in the plains around it, the safe part. Well, safer. Ever since those strange people from across the river took it over, things have been… interesting, but at least they all treat me fine. (stopped prematurely as I probably won't have enough time to finish)
hi! : D
-bee
-he/him
folklore ftw!!
- -JadeFox-
-
Scratcher
500+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
Daly #24: (1139/300 words)
TW: mentions of death and abuse
Yes let all of them stare! thought Arachne smugly as she started to weave in front of the audience. She could see that most, if not all were staring in awe at her amazing tapestry and she could say it was amazing because it was! She could look at her weaving which was envisioning a dream that she had the previous night about something inky and elongated in which she interpreted as the river of the Underworld. Since she was a girl, she'd been practicing the art of sewing. “Yes!” She called out, letting even more people crowd around her performance. “Let everyone come.”
Athena pushed through the crowd of mortals who were clapping for one woman in the center, who was accepting all of the attention with open arms. Athena had heard much about this woman on her trips to the mortal realm and the news infuriated her. Some were even discussing that she was as skilled as the creator of weaving herself and the thought enraged her. She had to see for herself. Disguising herself as a frail elderly lady, as if she really were, she stared at the woman's handiwork and was displeased to find that this woman was indeed very skilled in weaving. Oh this won't stand… The woman then showed her tapestry to the crowd and Athena nearly gasped at how intricate every piece of it was, the beautiful colors, and the attention to detail.
Tilting her head down, she approached Arachne. “Oh you have such a gift,” she said harmlessly.
The woman looked down on her with no disdain but Athena could see her pride and hear her arrogance in her voice. “Gift? No no, I worked for this.”
Athena shivered. "Well of course the goddess Athena must have given you this talent,“ Athena argued and Arachne shrugged and shook her head. ”This isn't a gift from Athena. In fact, I might be even more talented than she is!
—
After she finished, Arachne presented her full tapestry filled with beautiful muted colors. “Thank you thank you all for coming!”
“Oh you have such a gift,” said an old lady who approached her, her face covered in shadow from a long cloak.
“Gift? No no, I worked for this,” Arachne replied, continuing to smugly smile.
“Well of course the goddess Athena must have given you this talent,” said the old lady again. Arachne was unsure of why this old lady kept talking to her. Was she putting down her work? “This isn't a gift from Athena! In fact, I might even be more talented than she is!”
The old lady suddenly took a step back and she slowly began to grow taller, rapidly becoming youthful until there was a strong, muscular woman in shining armor standing in her place. Arachne put a hand on her chest in fear. “Athena! Your Godliness, I didn't know it was you, please I didn't think that through please don't-”
“Well if you think you are so skilled, then let us challenge to see who is really better,” Athena said strongly and Arachne nodded.
The two women stood at their looms facing each other. Athena scowled at Arachne who looked fearful but still irritably confident. This continued to infuriate Athena but she was confident in herself too. She was after all, the creator of weaving and she could best this useless mortal easily!
And they begun weaving. Athena thought of the anger she felt toward Athena, disrespecting the gods and she wove that into her painting. Sisyphus pushing the ball up forever eternity for attempting to trick a god. Echo disappearing after Hera cursed her for the rest of her eons. The tales of gods punishing mortals and that was how it would stay.
Arachne dared not even glance at Athena's painting because she was so caught up in her own. She would prove Athena that she was better. Perhaps she was acting arrogant but her arrogance was not incorrectly placed. She knew her skill and she had been told of it several times. She would best this haughty goddess if it's the last thing she did!
Finally, they finished and Athena showed off her painting, showing various works of the gods' power over mortals, an idea that should be constantly proved again and again. The crowd gasped and of course it was because her tapestry was exquisite. Athena was skilled and of course she would be. But she realized that the crowd was not looking at her work but at Arachne's who gave Athena a smug smile as she showed the various works of the gods' idiocy. There was Zeus spending time with several women and there were gods abusing their power and tricking them and there were times when it showed all of the gods' failures. Of course that would madden the goddess but what inflamed her more was that the tapestry was truly magnificent. There was nothing Athena could even point out about any sort of flaw or inaccuracy in the tapestry. Everything presented was so perfectly catered that she could almost say that it was better than Athena's.
“How dare you disrespect the gods!?!” Athena yelled and with her nails, she grabbed Arachne's painting and tore it in two right down the center, shredding all of her beautiful work and tossing it all across the floor. Arachne looked shaken. And then, Athena sent a hand toward Arachne's head and now, she was on the floor staring up at the mighty goddess before escaping the room. The crowd was frozen too as if afraid that Athena would hunt them down if they tried to run.
Athena turned her head suddenly and the crowd dispersed as she expected them to. Athena however could not feel proud of her outburst and with confidence, she walked through the hallway to find Arachne with a rope in her hands. She looked positively shameful trying to tie it to the ceiling. The scene sent a new emotion reeling through Athena and she bit her lip. With a snap of her fingers, Arachne suddenly fell onto the floor and her hair started falling out. Her body started to shrink into a tiny ball and her fingers clung to the sides of her body. After a few seconds, a tiny spider was on the ground.
“There. Let you spend the rest of your life hanging and weaving, a punishment you will spread to your descendants for eternity.” Arachne, the spider, scurried away and crawled to the highest corner, starting to weave a cobweb as beautiful as the tapestry she had woven before.
Athena then turned around and left the small house, letting Arachne to…itself and centuries later, her descendants would be claiming this house as their own, staying up in the corners of the dustiest areas and weaving their own perfect tapestries.
TW: mentions of death and abuse
Yes let all of them stare! thought Arachne smugly as she started to weave in front of the audience. She could see that most, if not all were staring in awe at her amazing tapestry and she could say it was amazing because it was! She could look at her weaving which was envisioning a dream that she had the previous night about something inky and elongated in which she interpreted as the river of the Underworld. Since she was a girl, she'd been practicing the art of sewing. “Yes!” She called out, letting even more people crowd around her performance. “Let everyone come.”
Athena pushed through the crowd of mortals who were clapping for one woman in the center, who was accepting all of the attention with open arms. Athena had heard much about this woman on her trips to the mortal realm and the news infuriated her. Some were even discussing that she was as skilled as the creator of weaving herself and the thought enraged her. She had to see for herself. Disguising herself as a frail elderly lady, as if she really were, she stared at the woman's handiwork and was displeased to find that this woman was indeed very skilled in weaving. Oh this won't stand… The woman then showed her tapestry to the crowd and Athena nearly gasped at how intricate every piece of it was, the beautiful colors, and the attention to detail.
Tilting her head down, she approached Arachne. “Oh you have such a gift,” she said harmlessly.
The woman looked down on her with no disdain but Athena could see her pride and hear her arrogance in her voice. “Gift? No no, I worked for this.”
Athena shivered. "Well of course the goddess Athena must have given you this talent,“ Athena argued and Arachne shrugged and shook her head. ”This isn't a gift from Athena. In fact, I might be even more talented than she is!
—
After she finished, Arachne presented her full tapestry filled with beautiful muted colors. “Thank you thank you all for coming!”
“Oh you have such a gift,” said an old lady who approached her, her face covered in shadow from a long cloak.
“Gift? No no, I worked for this,” Arachne replied, continuing to smugly smile.
“Well of course the goddess Athena must have given you this talent,” said the old lady again. Arachne was unsure of why this old lady kept talking to her. Was she putting down her work? “This isn't a gift from Athena! In fact, I might even be more talented than she is!”
The old lady suddenly took a step back and she slowly began to grow taller, rapidly becoming youthful until there was a strong, muscular woman in shining armor standing in her place. Arachne put a hand on her chest in fear. “Athena! Your Godliness, I didn't know it was you, please I didn't think that through please don't-”
“Well if you think you are so skilled, then let us challenge to see who is really better,” Athena said strongly and Arachne nodded.
The two women stood at their looms facing each other. Athena scowled at Arachne who looked fearful but still irritably confident. This continued to infuriate Athena but she was confident in herself too. She was after all, the creator of weaving and she could best this useless mortal easily!
And they begun weaving. Athena thought of the anger she felt toward Athena, disrespecting the gods and she wove that into her painting. Sisyphus pushing the ball up forever eternity for attempting to trick a god. Echo disappearing after Hera cursed her for the rest of her eons. The tales of gods punishing mortals and that was how it would stay.
Arachne dared not even glance at Athena's painting because she was so caught up in her own. She would prove Athena that she was better. Perhaps she was acting arrogant but her arrogance was not incorrectly placed. She knew her skill and she had been told of it several times. She would best this haughty goddess if it's the last thing she did!
Finally, they finished and Athena showed off her painting, showing various works of the gods' power over mortals, an idea that should be constantly proved again and again. The crowd gasped and of course it was because her tapestry was exquisite. Athena was skilled and of course she would be. But she realized that the crowd was not looking at her work but at Arachne's who gave Athena a smug smile as she showed the various works of the gods' idiocy. There was Zeus spending time with several women and there were gods abusing their power and tricking them and there were times when it showed all of the gods' failures. Of course that would madden the goddess but what inflamed her more was that the tapestry was truly magnificent. There was nothing Athena could even point out about any sort of flaw or inaccuracy in the tapestry. Everything presented was so perfectly catered that she could almost say that it was better than Athena's.
“How dare you disrespect the gods!?!” Athena yelled and with her nails, she grabbed Arachne's painting and tore it in two right down the center, shredding all of her beautiful work and tossing it all across the floor. Arachne looked shaken. And then, Athena sent a hand toward Arachne's head and now, she was on the floor staring up at the mighty goddess before escaping the room. The crowd was frozen too as if afraid that Athena would hunt them down if they tried to run.
Athena turned her head suddenly and the crowd dispersed as she expected them to. Athena however could not feel proud of her outburst and with confidence, she walked through the hallway to find Arachne with a rope in her hands. She looked positively shameful trying to tie it to the ceiling. The scene sent a new emotion reeling through Athena and she bit her lip. With a snap of her fingers, Arachne suddenly fell onto the floor and her hair started falling out. Her body started to shrink into a tiny ball and her fingers clung to the sides of her body. After a few seconds, a tiny spider was on the ground.
“There. Let you spend the rest of your life hanging and weaving, a punishment you will spread to your descendants for eternity.” Arachne, the spider, scurried away and crawled to the highest corner, starting to weave a cobweb as beautiful as the tapestry she had woven before.
Athena then turned around and left the small house, letting Arachne to…itself and centuries later, her descendants would be claiming this house as their own, staying up in the corners of the dustiest areas and weaving their own perfect tapestries.
Last edited by -JadeFox- (Nov. 24, 2022 22:54:02)
- theseventh-crow
-
New to Scratch
15 posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
Daily 24/11
(378 words)
idk if this makes sense but the end is also the beginning (it's basically a loop)
Regular is one timeline, italics the other
…I fall slowly, as if time is trying to torture me. The wind rushes in my ears, but the distance between me and the edge where I fell doesn’t seem to change. Then it’s suddenly different, I can’t see the flickering lights anymore, the sound of the cars has been drowned out, and his face is barely visible from where he perches, watching me fall. I feel tempted to stick my tongue out at him, then I remember that I am falling – most likely to my death – and the panic seeps in.
He walks deliberately, each step calculated and calm. It’s warm night, almost summer time, but he still wears a scarf, coat, and beanie – given how meticulous he is, it’s probably just to remain unnoticed. Ironic given his height and neon green and pink hair. I continue to trail him through the city, maintaining a reasonable distance, but close enough to hear what he says over the phone. We make a sharp turn down an alley way before arriving at what appears to be some kind of port.
I scream, my arms flailing as I plunge downwards, my back twisting so that I’m facing the water. I am helpless, merely a passenger as I watch the water approaching, as if to snatch me up from the sky. A part of my brain insists that I must be able to survive this, that there will be a little row boat waiting for me at the bottom, but I know there wont be. I know my fate is definite. There isn’t much space between the water and me, just a few seconds left. I close my eyes and brace myself for impact.
He walks swiftly, navigating his way through market stands and tourist shops, dodging unfortunate merchants. His pace continues for several minutes until we reach the north side; then he slows, tracing his hands along the stone walls, pausing here and there before his pace picks up and he begins to run. I begin to think that he caught on to my following him, but I continue regardless, until he took a sharp left revealing a steep cliff decorated with loose gravel. I try to stop but it’s too late, and slip down off the cliff and …
(378 words)
idk if this makes sense but the end is also the beginning (it's basically a loop)
Regular is one timeline, italics the other
…I fall slowly, as if time is trying to torture me. The wind rushes in my ears, but the distance between me and the edge where I fell doesn’t seem to change. Then it’s suddenly different, I can’t see the flickering lights anymore, the sound of the cars has been drowned out, and his face is barely visible from where he perches, watching me fall. I feel tempted to stick my tongue out at him, then I remember that I am falling – most likely to my death – and the panic seeps in.
He walks deliberately, each step calculated and calm. It’s warm night, almost summer time, but he still wears a scarf, coat, and beanie – given how meticulous he is, it’s probably just to remain unnoticed. Ironic given his height and neon green and pink hair. I continue to trail him through the city, maintaining a reasonable distance, but close enough to hear what he says over the phone. We make a sharp turn down an alley way before arriving at what appears to be some kind of port.
I scream, my arms flailing as I plunge downwards, my back twisting so that I’m facing the water. I am helpless, merely a passenger as I watch the water approaching, as if to snatch me up from the sky. A part of my brain insists that I must be able to survive this, that there will be a little row boat waiting for me at the bottom, but I know there wont be. I know my fate is definite. There isn’t much space between the water and me, just a few seconds left. I close my eyes and brace myself for impact.
He walks swiftly, navigating his way through market stands and tourist shops, dodging unfortunate merchants. His pace continues for several minutes until we reach the north side; then he slows, tracing his hands along the stone walls, pausing here and there before his pace picks up and he begins to run. I begin to think that he caught on to my following him, but I continue regardless, until he took a sharp left revealing a steep cliff decorated with loose gravel. I try to stop but it’s too late, and slip down off the cliff and …
- charliesunset
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
november twentyfourth daily ☙ 621 words
dual timelines
January
It all happened so fast.
That’s what everyone likes to say.
I always knew they were wrong. They were naive. Maybe for them, it had happened fast–in August, they’d been living in their peaceful little neighborhoods, where sometimes envelopes came by with news. When I was young, I’d pass out those envelopes, but then more revealing responsibilities came.
I’d known it was going to happen since I was thirteen. I’d felt the way those last few envelopes vibrated with dread. My parents knew, then, that I was just too old to be the messenger who didn’t look at the messages. They had to clue me in on everything, in case I had to take over for them one day.
Darla
It all happened so fast.
At least, that’s what I thought, until about a year ago. When I finally sensed that the burning inside me had been growing since I was nine, ten years old. Eleven was the age the sparks turned into flames. I didn’t realize what the feeling was for a while.
I knew one day I’d have to leave–at least, I’d have to leave home. I’d have to leave Libria. But I’d think you were insane if you came and told me last January that I was going to decide to leave Emberpeak altogether.
I’d never liked it here. I don’t think anyone truly does. My sister didn’t. For all I know, the leaders of this place look out at the world they’ve built, and think about how no one talks to each other, because of them. Nothing ever happens.
I almost feel bad for them. *Almost*. Having to hide their own history so no one knows that there was ever anything better. It takes a lot of misery to decide to do that.
January
I can’t forget the day I learned about the Roses.
Not the actual flowers–no one ever really explained to me what was so significant about the name, but I decided it meant danger. Those people were endangering everything I knew, threatening to overthrow my parents. The second my parents told me who they were, I hated them. And I also hated myself for not being able to do anything.
Maybe if I’d been better, I could’ve stopped them from igniting all that fear. All the panic that circulated through the neighborhood when Lumi and Sora took over as messengers, and all the pity I saw in peoples’ eyes whenever Callie was skipping through the neighborhood. They knew she wouldn’t be happy like that for a long time. It made me want to break things. Like chandeliers. Or obliterate the Roses altogether.
What I hated most was that I was afraid. The anger burned even brighter and hotter in the chains of fear. Even the idea of the flowers terrified me.
Darla
I never knew what was up with roses.
People told me not to draw them. I once had a book with roses on the shimmery paperback cover. I got deep into that book, but then my mom found out, and took that book away. Behind her anger, she looked terrified. As if she thought I was going to be cursed by a literal flower.
I never knew, either, why my mom was so… I never wanted to call her overprotective, but sometimes she seemed that way. I remember it starting when I was ten or eleven, and apparently turned “rebellious”. Nigella turned fifteen and left when I was eleven, which says a lot about what happened to me.
I would understand, if I knew what had happened twenty, thirty years back. But I never knew. They never taught it to us in the hardcover textbooks that were mailed every January with the solid black covers.
- --kitti-kat--
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
Final Weekly || 3580 words || Yes, I completed this at a little bit more than 24 hours after the weekly was posted- Also, quick author's note: This story goes between two perspectives throughout the story. They kind of change randomly, but I think it's clear enough to tell the difference. If not, well… I'll try to fix it
(Intro || 100 words exactly)
I examined one side of the room. My head slowly turned towards the other side. Hmm… something felt strangely off. What was it? I walked downstairs. I looked from one side of the room to the other, and even though I couldn’t see anything strange, it just felt strange. Something was missing. Something I woke up to every morning, but I couldn’t quite figure it out. Did I forget what day it was? Was it a school day? I checked the calendar. Nope, a Saturday, like I thought.
What the heck was missing? Then I realized what it was. Mango.
(Non-fi: A character who bakes || 100 words exactly)
“Mom!” I screamed, running into the kitchen. She was in the middle of baking something. I could see her making batter, and I could smell something fresh in the oven. I inhaled deeply to find out what was in the oven. Mmmm… cookies. Mom makes the best cookies. I honestly think she’d make a good baker. But, enough of getting distracted.
My mom looked at me oddly. “What is it, sweetie?” she asked.
“Mango-” I started to say. I could barely finish my sentence. She signaled for me to keep going. It was difficult to say this. “They are missing.”
(Bi-fi: Roll a die and write 100x as many words (rolled a 6) || 646 words)
My mother looked at me, horrified. “How did I not notice that my sweet child is missing!?” I saw a tear roll down her cheek. “Thank you for informing me, Maverick. Let’s go find your sibling.” She wiped the tear away, turned off the oven to make sure her cookies wouldn’t burn, and began to walk out of the kitchen. I quickly had a lick of the cookie dough sitting in the bowl and began to follow her. Then, she stopped. I almost ran into her because she stopped so suddenly. She turned her head around to look at me again.
“Do you have any idea where they could’ve gone?” she asked. I shook my head, showing that I didn’t have any clue where Mango could’ve gone. I truly didn’t know anything about their disappearance at all. I could infer a few things however. Even though I do not know what happened and how it happened, I have a strong feeling that this had to do with him.
“Where am I?” I asked, feeling alone in the cold, dark alleyway. I had no idea how I got here and why I was here. All I knew was what had occurred last night.
It began after Maverick had gone to bed. Everyone was in bed, actually, except me. The only one awake, just like the night owl I always am. I was simply doodling in my sketchbook with my tiny drawing lamp on. It didn’t provide much light as I never want to disturb anyone from a good rest, but it was enough to be able to see what was in front of me, even on the darkest, spookiest of nights. It’s a lamp that makes me feel comfortable and at ease in the late hours of the night. While I was drawing, however, I couldn’t help but feel something strange yet familiar. No, I wasn’t sleep-deprived, I think. I might’ve been, but there was another feeling that was definitely not that. Well, it could’ve been at the time, but it wasn’t being sleep-deprived when I found out, unless I’m dreaming right now, which I doubt I am.
Anyways, if this isn’t a dream, what happened in real life was at 2 in the morning, I felt myself become weaker. I could barely move my limbs and I felt myself go limp. Even though it was 2 in the morning, I wasn’t at the time though. I wasn’t falling asleep. It was something so much worse, My worst nightmare, taking over me again. What used to be a harmless character I obsessed over became something I feared, and it was returning. All I could do was worry, panic in my head, and do nothing about it. It reached a point where it was nearly impossible to move my hand even a centimeter in my control. My eyes began to close, realizing I just had to surrender.
I didn’t really know what had happened from there. I could recall thinking odd thoughts and doing nothing but stress out what was going on outside. What was I doing that I could no longer control?
Other than that, the bright sun beamed into my eyes the next morning (or, who knows how long it’s been, I really hope it was just one night) definitely not in the comfort of my home. I was in a rough looking alleyway with absolutely no one in sight, no one walking by to answer my question. I deeply wished that I could be found by Maverick or someone like that, because all I wanted to do was run into the arms of someone I loved and cared for, latch on to them and never let go. I wanted to cry, just thinking that there was no one to do that with, and I didn’t know when that opportunity would be in my reach again.
(Thriller: 5 Paragraphs with randomly generated word count (30, 23, 69, 85, 24) || 231 words)
“Mango, come on! Where are you?” I asked. I knew I was just asking myself at this point. There wasn’t anyone here, and it was unlikely anyone was to hear.
“Oh, I just hope they’re okay…” I heard my mother mutter from under her breath. She shivered in the cold, forgetting a coat.
I truly hoped Mango was around here somewhere. They couldn’t have gone anywhere far in one night, could they? Unless he had teleported them to another dimension when they were under his control. I shook that thought away from my mind. Come on, how likely was that? Is that even possible? Probably not. They were probably just brought somewhere around the town. I was sure Mango’s fine right now.
But, if he didn’t teleport Mango, where could they be? There’s no way to know for sure that Mango was hidden somewhere in the town without physically finding them. I had to stop thinking about this before I went too deep. If I went too deep, then I wouldn’t be focusing on saving Mango, but instead on my thoughts, which is the opposite of what I want. I shook every thought about where they were and began to actually search, like my mother was doing.
“Any sign of them?” I heard my mother say. I shook my head. I felt sad that my sibling wasn’t here to comfort me.
(Folklore: Write 200 words at your leisure || Exactly 200 words)
I realized that no one was going to find me if I simply sat here, waiting for someone to come. No one would suspect to look in an old alleyway, would they? Definitely not. I stood up and began to creep out of the darkness, revealing myself to the oddly empty, crumbling street. It wasn’t just the street that was crumbling, but the buildings on both sides were as well. This wasn’t my town. It seemed like a town nearby, however. I recognized it from driving past the town a few times. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
I walked along the sidewalk that sat beside the dented road in hopes of finding Maverick, or someone like that. But, I specifically hoped for Maverick. He’s my precious brother and I’d do anything to make sure he’s ok. I hoped so hard to see him, I noticed I wasn’t even walking anymore. I was running. Running to hope. Running to my family.
“Maverick! Please, come back!” I yelled at absolutely nothing. I wish it was something I was yelling at. So I wouldn’t be considered odd. So I could find my home again. So I knew what was going on.
(Horror: Have a character put on a mask (in this case, metaphorically) || 162 words)
“Please! Someone come here and comfort me! Anything!” I said, slumping down to the ground, sobbing. I would do anything for just one second to talk to Maverick. I looked around to see if someone, anyone would answer my statement, my wish, my greatest desire.
Nobody was there.
My tears darkened the sidewalk, turning it from what was nearly white half hidden from dirt to a medium gray. There was no point in crying though. No one was there to respond, and I noticed I looked ridiculous. I was simply embarrassing myself in front of… myself. I wiped the tears away and simply showed a face with no expression. Absolutely no feelings could leak through. I had put my mask of nothing on.
As I walked, trying to act strong, emotionless, one thing leaked through. Suffering. Suffering my worst nightmare again. Suffering so poorly, no mask could hide it. This was not good. “MAVERICK!!!” I screamed as I felt myself weaken again.
(Mystery: Sprint for 5 minutes || 181 words)
Where could they be? Where could they be!? We’ve searched every nook and cranny of the town. Were we far away? I just wanted to know how close we were. That’s all I needed. Why couldn’t we get a hint at all? As I stood deep into thought, I could hear the sound of Mango screaming my name.
“Maverick!” I heard faintly in my mind. Was I just that desperate to find them? Was I starting to hear their voice in my head?
“Mango-” I responded. Maybe I’d get a response back. Absolutely nothing. How much I missed them. My mother turned to look at me.
“Aww, are you ok?” she asked, stopping and giving me a hug. “I know you miss your sibling, but I’m sure we’ll find them soon.” She bent down and patted my head like Mango always did. That made me more upset. What if we weren’t going to find them at all? What if they were just… gone? What if it wasn’t even him this time? No, don’t think like that. I know they’re somewhere. Anywhere.
(Adventure: Surroundings become an obstacle || 122 words)
Oh no. I was under control. He had taken over me completely. I could not escape until he was done, which was an unknown, unspecified amount of time.
“I see you’re awake!” I heard a voice. “If that’s the case, I’ll allow you back in control…” the voice continued. I was suddenly hopeful. “If you’re able to defeat… these.” Suddenly, around me, shadow figures began to appear. I gasped at the sight of them. There were so many! Too many! The figures appeared to be recreations of a mixture of me and… him. Of course he would do this. The strongest creature I may have ever known. But, it was time to stop these things so I can finally end this nightmare!
(Hi-fi: Sprint for 5 minutes (I think this one had a possible extra 10 minutes, but I didn't need to because I already passed the requirement) || 232 words)
Alright, fighting time! I ran up to one of the shadow figures, trying to destroy it in a Smash Brothers style. That did not work the way I was planning to. I was pushed back instantly, my foot now in pain. I stood back up, prepared to fight. I went for the head, yet I was still pushed back! Of course he would make it impossible, just to see me suffer.
…No. It was more than seeing me suffer. It was about actually destroying me once and for all, so he can have me all for himself. …that sounds weird out of context. I wouldn’t allow him to do this! I began to use all of the strength I had to destroy the figures. Yet, by the time one was gone, I was already in enough pain and too exhausted to fight another.
I was doomed. This was it. He won. I lost. There was no way I was going to be able to destroy these things on my own.
On my own indeed.
With my frustration and no ray of hope shining upon me, anger covered me. I couldn’t give up. I was too mad for that option. That anger became something familiar. Power. Of course. His anger became him possessing me, giving me/him powers. Of course anger could give me my own! I snickered, prepared to finish this battle.
(Poetry: Place a character into isolation (Spoiler: Sorry Maverick-) || 172 words)
It had been hours later and I was almost ready to give up. Mango wasn’t anywhere! They were probably gone forever. Tears started forming in my eyes and I ran away as fast as I could, abandoning my mother in the middle of the town. I didn’t want to lose my sibling. And now, they are gone. Was it my fault? They had taken care of me and I didn’t do the same for them.
It was then, I noticed I was alone. In the middle of nowhere. No one could find me, could they? I felt scared, knowing no one was here to comfort me. I regret everything! I regret not being by Mango’s side all of the time to help them in case they run into problems. I regret not being aware of them being gone earlier so I could have a chance of finding them. I regret running away from my mother, my only comfort source a few minutes ago. I regret not giving Mango a hug last night.
(Real-fi: Sprint for 3 minutes || 130 words)
I was completely alone. No Mango in sight. No one in sight. No comfort to hold onto. Wait, untrue. All of it was untrue when I took a quick glance at something in the distance. Could it be?
It was! It really was! None other than Mango! I stood up and ran over to them at full speed. They were completely normal, until I got up closer. Like those changing images, a flicker of a different face appeared. Oh dear, not him! Anyone but him!
“Mango! Are you ok!?” I screamed at them. No response. Only a smirk. This definitely wasn’t Mango, but it was different from their possessed form. What was he doing? What was happening to my sweet sibling? Was it too late for them to be stopped?
(Sci-fi: A character gets Deja Vu or premonitions || 182 words)
There we go. The final creature. Finally, I’d be able to get back to normal! I destroyed the last creature with a powerful blow and my power faded away with it. Suddenly, I disappeared from where I currently was and then brought somewhere else. A place I don’t think I’ve seen before but just feel like I recognize. I don’t know how I knew it, I just did. As if it occurred in a dream. I wasn’t quite sure. Suddenly, I heard the voice again.
“Well, looks like someone’s skilled,” said the voice, unpleased. “Obviously, I didn’t add enough challenge. Maybe a bit more will spice it up. Then, and only then, may you return to normal.” I groaned. Of course he’d do such a thing! It’s all a trick! He was probably going to do it again when I had finished them all off and I was barely standing. Suddenly, more figures appeared. But they no longer looked the same. They were weird and random combinations of people I loved. I felt like I had even seen these before. But where?
(Fan-fi: Ooh, a flashback! || 164 words)
A flicker of his face appeared over theirs. I suddenly remembered the first time I had encountered him…
“Maverick- I am so sorry…” Mango said, a tear dripping down their face. We both entered the portal that appeared in front of us.
We were brought to his castle. Olly’s castle. He was making this mess. He was making previous messes. We entered the castle, prepared to fight. It was dangerous, especially with Olly stealing Mango’s ability to use any power. But, he couldn’t take mine away. I gave power to Mango somehow and they tried their hardest to fight him. But that wasn’t even enough.
I was ready to give up. Mango had failed. There was no way I could do anything at all. Until I realized I had the power. The power to end this situation. And I did it successfully. Mango came back to help, even though they were at their weakest. Olly was gone. Or… so we thought at the time.
(Script: Say thoughts out loud and add them into your story (I came up with some interesting ideas out loud) || 225 words)
I brought myself back to reality. Back to helping my sibling. The flicker of Olly showing up appeared more often. Almost every few seconds. This was bad. Real bad. He was gaining full control fast.
I thought back to that memory again. “I had the power to stop it,” I whispered. “Do I perhaps… have it again?” I closed my eyes, thinking deep and hard about said power. ‘Please return to help get Mango back,’ I thought. ‘Please, I’m desperate!’ I thought so hard, I nearly screamed. Suddenly, something was activated. Perhaps it was that power? I felt like I was being transported somewhere else.
These guys were difficult to beat! I didn’t know if I could do it anymore! I was in great pain everywhere. I almost felt numb. I felt like giving up but I just couldn’t.
The next being I fought was just like the rest of them. However, when I attempted to attack it, it just stopped me. It didn’t harm me back or anything. It was as if the creature were my ally.
“Please, don’t fight me!” the creature said. It was all warbly and weird sounding, but I couldn’t help but recognize that voice. “You should know who I am!” Was Olly really trying to trick me? Suddenly, the creature began to transform into someone I was familiar with…
(Fantasy: Write 250 words || 277 words)
“Maverick!?” I squealed with delight.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said with his usual little chuckle. I gave him a huge hug. He quickly hugged back but let go. “No time for hugs yet. I came here to help you with your current situation.” I nodded to him. I guess it wasn’t the time to give attention. Then, a thought popped into my head. What if this wasn’t Maverick and yet another trick set up by Olly?
“How do I know I can trust you?” I asked him, cautious. “How do I know if this is really you?” He looked at me weirdly for a brief second.
“I swear, it’s me! I don’t know how to prove it though…” Maverick replied.
Oh no, Mango’s not sure if I’m the real Maverick. I mean, I can't blame them. But, I had to find a response fast. I need to prove to her I’m real. I thought deeply. What would Mango know that Olly couldn’t? I thought for a good 20 seconds and then had the answer. “Crouch down!” I said to them. They surprisingly obeyed. I patted their head, like they always did to me. Mango stood back up and smiled.
“Aww, it is you!” they said. I smiled back at them. “So, what do we have to do?” they asked. I paused. I wasn’t actually quite sure.
“I don’t know…” I admitted. Mango nodded again. They looked around, and for the first time, I saw strange creatures lingering around.
“Maybe we should start by destroying the remaining creatures,” Mango said, preparing a look of determination. I snickered, ready to fight.
“Yes, we definitely should!” I exclaimed. “GAME ON!”
(Dystopian: A character does something bejewelling and incredibly impressive (I may have written for a few more minutes after the time limit was up, also, Spoiler: Yay Maverick!!!) || 367 words)
Yes! They were all defeated! Suddenly, the voice from earlier was heard.
“You actually beat them too!? And you’re still alive!?” The voice exclaimed. We nodded. “Fine, I guess I should just get more armies!” More armies came. However, Maverick grabbed my hand.
“Hold on tight, I’m going to try something…” he said, closing his eyes and focusing real hard. Our area began to fade away as I suddenly realized, we were back in the real world! How amazing! I was back to normal! Except… it wasn’t just me and Maverick. There was Olly too! “I separated you two apart,” Maverick said, smiling nervously. That was impressive! But, now was not the time to focus on accomplishments. It was time to get serious and actually fight in the final battle.
I was instantly reminded of our first real life encounter with Olly. I looked over at Maverick and he knew what I was looking for. He closed his eyes and gave me power. Ah yes, I remember this. I rushed over to Olly to fight but like I did back then, I failed.
“Mango!!!” I yelled as I saw them land to the ground after a large strike by Olly. Yet again, I didn’t give them enough strength to win. And this time, there was no way they could come back. I had no idea how to fight. Or even if I could fight with these powers. This time, I knew we were doomed.
I looked hopeless, but I almost heard a voice calling me. It said, ‘Go over to Mango. You’ll know what to do from there.’ I obeyed the voice in my head. As I walked over to Mango, greatly injured and likely to be healed back, I noticed my mother came, as she screamed at the sight of the three of us.
“Maverick! There you are! And… Mango!!!!” she screamed, rushing to both me and Mango. She was crying. I tried to ignore her, kneeling down when reaching my sibling. I felt a need to just concentrate my power on them. That’s what I did. Suddenly, Mango opened their eyes.
“Maverick- you saved me!” they said. My mother and Olly showed a shocked expression.
(End: Write 100 words || 211 words)
Mango hugged me. “That was impressive!” they said. “And I feel stronger.” They stood up, signaling me to back up. I stood back a few steps to where my mother was.
“How did you do that?” she whispered, half paying attention to me, and the other half of her attention was towards Mango. I shrugged and watched Mango fight. They were indeed stronger. All thanks to me. I looked at my hands, a blue glow slowly fading away from them.
One last action and Mango had defeated him! You could hear Olly scream “NOOOO!” before he had fallen, disappearing from this world, universe, or possibly existence. I ran to hug Mango.
“You did amazing!” I exclaimed.
“I couldn’t have done it without you!” Mango said, grinning. “You helped me get out of Olly’s possession, you revived me, and you never gave up trying to find me!” I paused at the last point. I decided not to admit anything.
“I missed you both!” My mother said, joining the hug. “Why not we all get home and discuss this through some hot chocolate!” she continued, beginning to walk away.
“Hot chocolate!” we both screamed, following her. As much as this was a scary experience, it was enjoyable, new and something I’d never forget.
End code: Your Journey: nonfi, option #1, bifi, option #2, thriller, option #2, folklore, option #2, horror, option #1, mystery, option #3, adventure, option #1, hifi, option #2, poetry, option #1, realfi, option #2, scifi, option #1, fanfi, option #1, script, option #3, fantasy, option #3, dystopian, option #3
(Intro || 100 words exactly)
I examined one side of the room. My head slowly turned towards the other side. Hmm… something felt strangely off. What was it? I walked downstairs. I looked from one side of the room to the other, and even though I couldn’t see anything strange, it just felt strange. Something was missing. Something I woke up to every morning, but I couldn’t quite figure it out. Did I forget what day it was? Was it a school day? I checked the calendar. Nope, a Saturday, like I thought.
What the heck was missing? Then I realized what it was. Mango.
(Non-fi: A character who bakes || 100 words exactly)
“Mom!” I screamed, running into the kitchen. She was in the middle of baking something. I could see her making batter, and I could smell something fresh in the oven. I inhaled deeply to find out what was in the oven. Mmmm… cookies. Mom makes the best cookies. I honestly think she’d make a good baker. But, enough of getting distracted.
My mom looked at me oddly. “What is it, sweetie?” she asked.
“Mango-” I started to say. I could barely finish my sentence. She signaled for me to keep going. It was difficult to say this. “They are missing.”
(Bi-fi: Roll a die and write 100x as many words (rolled a 6) || 646 words)
My mother looked at me, horrified. “How did I not notice that my sweet child is missing!?” I saw a tear roll down her cheek. “Thank you for informing me, Maverick. Let’s go find your sibling.” She wiped the tear away, turned off the oven to make sure her cookies wouldn’t burn, and began to walk out of the kitchen. I quickly had a lick of the cookie dough sitting in the bowl and began to follow her. Then, she stopped. I almost ran into her because she stopped so suddenly. She turned her head around to look at me again.
“Do you have any idea where they could’ve gone?” she asked. I shook my head, showing that I didn’t have any clue where Mango could’ve gone. I truly didn’t know anything about their disappearance at all. I could infer a few things however. Even though I do not know what happened and how it happened, I have a strong feeling that this had to do with him.
“Where am I?” I asked, feeling alone in the cold, dark alleyway. I had no idea how I got here and why I was here. All I knew was what had occurred last night.
It began after Maverick had gone to bed. Everyone was in bed, actually, except me. The only one awake, just like the night owl I always am. I was simply doodling in my sketchbook with my tiny drawing lamp on. It didn’t provide much light as I never want to disturb anyone from a good rest, but it was enough to be able to see what was in front of me, even on the darkest, spookiest of nights. It’s a lamp that makes me feel comfortable and at ease in the late hours of the night. While I was drawing, however, I couldn’t help but feel something strange yet familiar. No, I wasn’t sleep-deprived, I think. I might’ve been, but there was another feeling that was definitely not that. Well, it could’ve been at the time, but it wasn’t being sleep-deprived when I found out, unless I’m dreaming right now, which I doubt I am.
Anyways, if this isn’t a dream, what happened in real life was at 2 in the morning, I felt myself become weaker. I could barely move my limbs and I felt myself go limp. Even though it was 2 in the morning, I wasn’t at the time though. I wasn’t falling asleep. It was something so much worse, My worst nightmare, taking over me again. What used to be a harmless character I obsessed over became something I feared, and it was returning. All I could do was worry, panic in my head, and do nothing about it. It reached a point where it was nearly impossible to move my hand even a centimeter in my control. My eyes began to close, realizing I just had to surrender.
I didn’t really know what had happened from there. I could recall thinking odd thoughts and doing nothing but stress out what was going on outside. What was I doing that I could no longer control?
Other than that, the bright sun beamed into my eyes the next morning (or, who knows how long it’s been, I really hope it was just one night) definitely not in the comfort of my home. I was in a rough looking alleyway with absolutely no one in sight, no one walking by to answer my question. I deeply wished that I could be found by Maverick or someone like that, because all I wanted to do was run into the arms of someone I loved and cared for, latch on to them and never let go. I wanted to cry, just thinking that there was no one to do that with, and I didn’t know when that opportunity would be in my reach again.
(Thriller: 5 Paragraphs with randomly generated word count (30, 23, 69, 85, 24) || 231 words)
“Mango, come on! Where are you?” I asked. I knew I was just asking myself at this point. There wasn’t anyone here, and it was unlikely anyone was to hear.
“Oh, I just hope they’re okay…” I heard my mother mutter from under her breath. She shivered in the cold, forgetting a coat.
I truly hoped Mango was around here somewhere. They couldn’t have gone anywhere far in one night, could they? Unless he had teleported them to another dimension when they were under his control. I shook that thought away from my mind. Come on, how likely was that? Is that even possible? Probably not. They were probably just brought somewhere around the town. I was sure Mango’s fine right now.
But, if he didn’t teleport Mango, where could they be? There’s no way to know for sure that Mango was hidden somewhere in the town without physically finding them. I had to stop thinking about this before I went too deep. If I went too deep, then I wouldn’t be focusing on saving Mango, but instead on my thoughts, which is the opposite of what I want. I shook every thought about where they were and began to actually search, like my mother was doing.
“Any sign of them?” I heard my mother say. I shook my head. I felt sad that my sibling wasn’t here to comfort me.
(Folklore: Write 200 words at your leisure || Exactly 200 words)
I realized that no one was going to find me if I simply sat here, waiting for someone to come. No one would suspect to look in an old alleyway, would they? Definitely not. I stood up and began to creep out of the darkness, revealing myself to the oddly empty, crumbling street. It wasn’t just the street that was crumbling, but the buildings on both sides were as well. This wasn’t my town. It seemed like a town nearby, however. I recognized it from driving past the town a few times. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
I walked along the sidewalk that sat beside the dented road in hopes of finding Maverick, or someone like that. But, I specifically hoped for Maverick. He’s my precious brother and I’d do anything to make sure he’s ok. I hoped so hard to see him, I noticed I wasn’t even walking anymore. I was running. Running to hope. Running to my family.
“Maverick! Please, come back!” I yelled at absolutely nothing. I wish it was something I was yelling at. So I wouldn’t be considered odd. So I could find my home again. So I knew what was going on.
(Horror: Have a character put on a mask (in this case, metaphorically) || 162 words)
“Please! Someone come here and comfort me! Anything!” I said, slumping down to the ground, sobbing. I would do anything for just one second to talk to Maverick. I looked around to see if someone, anyone would answer my statement, my wish, my greatest desire.
Nobody was there.
My tears darkened the sidewalk, turning it from what was nearly white half hidden from dirt to a medium gray. There was no point in crying though. No one was there to respond, and I noticed I looked ridiculous. I was simply embarrassing myself in front of… myself. I wiped the tears away and simply showed a face with no expression. Absolutely no feelings could leak through. I had put my mask of nothing on.
As I walked, trying to act strong, emotionless, one thing leaked through. Suffering. Suffering my worst nightmare again. Suffering so poorly, no mask could hide it. This was not good. “MAVERICK!!!” I screamed as I felt myself weaken again.
(Mystery: Sprint for 5 minutes || 181 words)
Where could they be? Where could they be!? We’ve searched every nook and cranny of the town. Were we far away? I just wanted to know how close we were. That’s all I needed. Why couldn’t we get a hint at all? As I stood deep into thought, I could hear the sound of Mango screaming my name.
“Maverick!” I heard faintly in my mind. Was I just that desperate to find them? Was I starting to hear their voice in my head?
“Mango-” I responded. Maybe I’d get a response back. Absolutely nothing. How much I missed them. My mother turned to look at me.
“Aww, are you ok?” she asked, stopping and giving me a hug. “I know you miss your sibling, but I’m sure we’ll find them soon.” She bent down and patted my head like Mango always did. That made me more upset. What if we weren’t going to find them at all? What if they were just… gone? What if it wasn’t even him this time? No, don’t think like that. I know they’re somewhere. Anywhere.
(Adventure: Surroundings become an obstacle || 122 words)
Oh no. I was under control. He had taken over me completely. I could not escape until he was done, which was an unknown, unspecified amount of time.
“I see you’re awake!” I heard a voice. “If that’s the case, I’ll allow you back in control…” the voice continued. I was suddenly hopeful. “If you’re able to defeat… these.” Suddenly, around me, shadow figures began to appear. I gasped at the sight of them. There were so many! Too many! The figures appeared to be recreations of a mixture of me and… him. Of course he would do this. The strongest creature I may have ever known. But, it was time to stop these things so I can finally end this nightmare!
(Hi-fi: Sprint for 5 minutes (I think this one had a possible extra 10 minutes, but I didn't need to because I already passed the requirement) || 232 words)
Alright, fighting time! I ran up to one of the shadow figures, trying to destroy it in a Smash Brothers style. That did not work the way I was planning to. I was pushed back instantly, my foot now in pain. I stood back up, prepared to fight. I went for the head, yet I was still pushed back! Of course he would make it impossible, just to see me suffer.
…No. It was more than seeing me suffer. It was about actually destroying me once and for all, so he can have me all for himself. …that sounds weird out of context. I wouldn’t allow him to do this! I began to use all of the strength I had to destroy the figures. Yet, by the time one was gone, I was already in enough pain and too exhausted to fight another.
I was doomed. This was it. He won. I lost. There was no way I was going to be able to destroy these things on my own.
On my own indeed.
With my frustration and no ray of hope shining upon me, anger covered me. I couldn’t give up. I was too mad for that option. That anger became something familiar. Power. Of course. His anger became him possessing me, giving me/him powers. Of course anger could give me my own! I snickered, prepared to finish this battle.
(Poetry: Place a character into isolation (Spoiler: Sorry Maverick-) || 172 words)
It had been hours later and I was almost ready to give up. Mango wasn’t anywhere! They were probably gone forever. Tears started forming in my eyes and I ran away as fast as I could, abandoning my mother in the middle of the town. I didn’t want to lose my sibling. And now, they are gone. Was it my fault? They had taken care of me and I didn’t do the same for them.
It was then, I noticed I was alone. In the middle of nowhere. No one could find me, could they? I felt scared, knowing no one was here to comfort me. I regret everything! I regret not being by Mango’s side all of the time to help them in case they run into problems. I regret not being aware of them being gone earlier so I could have a chance of finding them. I regret running away from my mother, my only comfort source a few minutes ago. I regret not giving Mango a hug last night.
(Real-fi: Sprint for 3 minutes || 130 words)
I was completely alone. No Mango in sight. No one in sight. No comfort to hold onto. Wait, untrue. All of it was untrue when I took a quick glance at something in the distance. Could it be?
It was! It really was! None other than Mango! I stood up and ran over to them at full speed. They were completely normal, until I got up closer. Like those changing images, a flicker of a different face appeared. Oh dear, not him! Anyone but him!
“Mango! Are you ok!?” I screamed at them. No response. Only a smirk. This definitely wasn’t Mango, but it was different from their possessed form. What was he doing? What was happening to my sweet sibling? Was it too late for them to be stopped?
(Sci-fi: A character gets Deja Vu or premonitions || 182 words)
There we go. The final creature. Finally, I’d be able to get back to normal! I destroyed the last creature with a powerful blow and my power faded away with it. Suddenly, I disappeared from where I currently was and then brought somewhere else. A place I don’t think I’ve seen before but just feel like I recognize. I don’t know how I knew it, I just did. As if it occurred in a dream. I wasn’t quite sure. Suddenly, I heard the voice again.
“Well, looks like someone’s skilled,” said the voice, unpleased. “Obviously, I didn’t add enough challenge. Maybe a bit more will spice it up. Then, and only then, may you return to normal.” I groaned. Of course he’d do such a thing! It’s all a trick! He was probably going to do it again when I had finished them all off and I was barely standing. Suddenly, more figures appeared. But they no longer looked the same. They were weird and random combinations of people I loved. I felt like I had even seen these before. But where?
(Fan-fi: Ooh, a flashback! || 164 words)
A flicker of his face appeared over theirs. I suddenly remembered the first time I had encountered him…
“Maverick- I am so sorry…” Mango said, a tear dripping down their face. We both entered the portal that appeared in front of us.
We were brought to his castle. Olly’s castle. He was making this mess. He was making previous messes. We entered the castle, prepared to fight. It was dangerous, especially with Olly stealing Mango’s ability to use any power. But, he couldn’t take mine away. I gave power to Mango somehow and they tried their hardest to fight him. But that wasn’t even enough.
I was ready to give up. Mango had failed. There was no way I could do anything at all. Until I realized I had the power. The power to end this situation. And I did it successfully. Mango came back to help, even though they were at their weakest. Olly was gone. Or… so we thought at the time.
(Script: Say thoughts out loud and add them into your story (I came up with some interesting ideas out loud) || 225 words)
I brought myself back to reality. Back to helping my sibling. The flicker of Olly showing up appeared more often. Almost every few seconds. This was bad. Real bad. He was gaining full control fast.
I thought back to that memory again. “I had the power to stop it,” I whispered. “Do I perhaps… have it again?” I closed my eyes, thinking deep and hard about said power. ‘Please return to help get Mango back,’ I thought. ‘Please, I’m desperate!’ I thought so hard, I nearly screamed. Suddenly, something was activated. Perhaps it was that power? I felt like I was being transported somewhere else.
These guys were difficult to beat! I didn’t know if I could do it anymore! I was in great pain everywhere. I almost felt numb. I felt like giving up but I just couldn’t.
The next being I fought was just like the rest of them. However, when I attempted to attack it, it just stopped me. It didn’t harm me back or anything. It was as if the creature were my ally.
“Please, don’t fight me!” the creature said. It was all warbly and weird sounding, but I couldn’t help but recognize that voice. “You should know who I am!” Was Olly really trying to trick me? Suddenly, the creature began to transform into someone I was familiar with…
(Fantasy: Write 250 words || 277 words)
“Maverick!?” I squealed with delight.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said with his usual little chuckle. I gave him a huge hug. He quickly hugged back but let go. “No time for hugs yet. I came here to help you with your current situation.” I nodded to him. I guess it wasn’t the time to give attention. Then, a thought popped into my head. What if this wasn’t Maverick and yet another trick set up by Olly?
“How do I know I can trust you?” I asked him, cautious. “How do I know if this is really you?” He looked at me weirdly for a brief second.
“I swear, it’s me! I don’t know how to prove it though…” Maverick replied.
Oh no, Mango’s not sure if I’m the real Maverick. I mean, I can't blame them. But, I had to find a response fast. I need to prove to her I’m real. I thought deeply. What would Mango know that Olly couldn’t? I thought for a good 20 seconds and then had the answer. “Crouch down!” I said to them. They surprisingly obeyed. I patted their head, like they always did to me. Mango stood back up and smiled.
“Aww, it is you!” they said. I smiled back at them. “So, what do we have to do?” they asked. I paused. I wasn’t actually quite sure.
“I don’t know…” I admitted. Mango nodded again. They looked around, and for the first time, I saw strange creatures lingering around.
“Maybe we should start by destroying the remaining creatures,” Mango said, preparing a look of determination. I snickered, ready to fight.
“Yes, we definitely should!” I exclaimed. “GAME ON!”
(Dystopian: A character does something bejewelling and incredibly impressive (I may have written for a few more minutes after the time limit was up, also, Spoiler: Yay Maverick!!!) || 367 words)
Yes! They were all defeated! Suddenly, the voice from earlier was heard.
“You actually beat them too!? And you’re still alive!?” The voice exclaimed. We nodded. “Fine, I guess I should just get more armies!” More armies came. However, Maverick grabbed my hand.
“Hold on tight, I’m going to try something…” he said, closing his eyes and focusing real hard. Our area began to fade away as I suddenly realized, we were back in the real world! How amazing! I was back to normal! Except… it wasn’t just me and Maverick. There was Olly too! “I separated you two apart,” Maverick said, smiling nervously. That was impressive! But, now was not the time to focus on accomplishments. It was time to get serious and actually fight in the final battle.
I was instantly reminded of our first real life encounter with Olly. I looked over at Maverick and he knew what I was looking for. He closed his eyes and gave me power. Ah yes, I remember this. I rushed over to Olly to fight but like I did back then, I failed.
“Mango!!!” I yelled as I saw them land to the ground after a large strike by Olly. Yet again, I didn’t give them enough strength to win. And this time, there was no way they could come back. I had no idea how to fight. Or even if I could fight with these powers. This time, I knew we were doomed.
I looked hopeless, but I almost heard a voice calling me. It said, ‘Go over to Mango. You’ll know what to do from there.’ I obeyed the voice in my head. As I walked over to Mango, greatly injured and likely to be healed back, I noticed my mother came, as she screamed at the sight of the three of us.
“Maverick! There you are! And… Mango!!!!” she screamed, rushing to both me and Mango. She was crying. I tried to ignore her, kneeling down when reaching my sibling. I felt a need to just concentrate my power on them. That’s what I did. Suddenly, Mango opened their eyes.
“Maverick- you saved me!” they said. My mother and Olly showed a shocked expression.
(End: Write 100 words || 211 words)
Mango hugged me. “That was impressive!” they said. “And I feel stronger.” They stood up, signaling me to back up. I stood back a few steps to where my mother was.
“How did you do that?” she whispered, half paying attention to me, and the other half of her attention was towards Mango. I shrugged and watched Mango fight. They were indeed stronger. All thanks to me. I looked at my hands, a blue glow slowly fading away from them.
One last action and Mango had defeated him! You could hear Olly scream “NOOOO!” before he had fallen, disappearing from this world, universe, or possibly existence. I ran to hug Mango.
“You did amazing!” I exclaimed.
“I couldn’t have done it without you!” Mango said, grinning. “You helped me get out of Olly’s possession, you revived me, and you never gave up trying to find me!” I paused at the last point. I decided not to admit anything.
“I missed you both!” My mother said, joining the hug. “Why not we all get home and discuss this through some hot chocolate!” she continued, beginning to walk away.
“Hot chocolate!” we both screamed, following her. As much as this was a scary experience, it was enjoyable, new and something I’d never forget.
End code: Your Journey: nonfi, option #1, bifi, option #2, thriller, option #2, folklore, option #2, horror, option #1, mystery, option #3, adventure, option #1, hifi, option #2, poetry, option #1, realfi, option #2, scifi, option #1, fanfi, option #1, script, option #3, fantasy, option #3, dystopian, option #3
Heyo green beans, human beans, and quite possibly Scratch Teams
Mango || They/them || Artist-ish || An enthusiast of: FPCs, Paper Mario, Mario & Luigi, and Kirby || Cats are the supreme animal
Be warned, my obsessions constantly change, and I will not stop talking about my current obsession once I start ranting on about them.
“What in the sideways bee stinger is that!?” - Kabbu, Bug Fables
- Whirlygig
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Scratcher
500+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
Main cabin daily - once upon a picture
November 25, 2022
Trigger warning! A good bit of death :') Read at your own risk ^^
November 25, 2022
Trigger warning! A good bit of death :') Read at your own risk ^^
This is the picture I chose
Who is this man? Where has he come from? What does his clothing tell you about his character?
Do you think he is a good or bad character? Why?
What is he doing?
Is the bird friendly or is it going to attack him?
Describe the tower in as much detail as you can.
Why is it called ‘Dark Tower’?
What do you think the tower is used for? Does anyone live there? Are there many visitors?
What are the red things on the ground and in the air?
What sounds could you hear if you were inside the picture?
Use this picture as a story prompt. Include the dark tower as a setting, the man as a character and the bird as something else (a sidekick? A villain?).
uhhh yeah i kinda went off-script with some of these topics but ya know what?!? I like it >:)
The air was silent, except for the sound of the roses. Their petals fell like snow. A solitary man walked through the fallen roses, his footsteps disturbing the blanket of pink. Petals swirled up into the air where he stepped, making his world look like a more colorful snowglobe. The man - his name was Merle - had traveled far to get here, and was unfazed by the strange weather of the place. He wasn’t surprised by the flowers falling from the sky, nor did he stop even for a second to marvel at their out-of-place beauty. Merle just walked, with one goal in mind. His clothing and manner distinctly marked him as an outsider: Rough edges and weathered colors couldn’t have seemed further away from the world of lush, soft pink that surrounded this traveler.626 words
Merle didn’t walk slowly or quickly; he walked with purpose, he walked with a goal in mind, he walked toward something. That something was the Tower. The Tower didn’t belong with the landscape either. It towered high above, a twisting spiral of wood and stone and glass built on top of and around itself. Where the roses gave off an aura of peace, the Tower had an air of foreboding, as if it were warning everyone to not go near. Broken windows dotted the crumbling tower walls, and for some reason, even though the rose petals were everywhere, none fell on the tower. Everything in Merle’s body seemed to be screaming at him to stay away, stay away - but Merle had gotten pretty good at ignoring himself by now. Against all the warnings, all his better instincts, Merle walked straight for the Tower. He was so close.
Nobody lived in the Tower. Well, nobody except the Raven. Her name was Amelie, and she guarded the Tower and the secrets it held. Once, Amelie had been like Merle. That was her biggest regret. She, too, had come from far away, through the landscape of roses, to the tower. She had wanted its power. But that power had been a lie. The tower had consumed her, burnt up her soul, eaten it, and then spit it back out, completely changed. Amelie had no way stop Merle from repeating her mistakes, but she couldn’t let him take the power that she now held. She was the Raven, the guardian of the Tower, and she had a job to fulfill.
Merle was finally taken by surprise when the Raven attacked. She flew around his head, circling once, twice, three times; each time closer to Merle than the last. She flew at him, claws out; trying to claw his face and his hair and his eyes. Black feathers floated in the air along with the roses as Amelie flew at Merle with increasing speed and intensity. Finally, Merle had had enough. He scowled, lifted his arm, and snapped Amelie’s neck.
As she fell to the ground, lifeless, the air seemed to still. It felt like the Tower was crying as it groaned and shifted on its foundation. Merle’s resolve only increased, and he ran determinedly towards the Tower.
The Tower was even more gloomy on the inside than it was from outside. Glimmers of sunlight permeated the Tower’s dusty darkness. If Merle had taken the time to look, he might have noticed a strange sort of beauty. But Merle didn’t stop to think. He pulled a matchbox out of his pocket, and lit a match. He stared at the flame for a fleeting moment, then threw it onto a pile of debris. It caught quickly. Merle smiled triumphantly, knowing he’d succeeded, even if that success meant his own demise. Soon, the whole Tower would be burned to the ground.
Merle died with a smile on his face.
why can't we give love that one more chance?
stingray, she/her, fantasy 3/24!
stingray, she/her, fantasy 3/24!
- xXFierroOrFalafelXx
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
xxfierrorfalafel's new thread
(old one getting too long there)
daily november 25th)
https://www.onceuponapicture.co.uk/portfolio_page/lost-world/
this is also inspired by me reading like 3 pages of the book thief and this youtube video i watched years ago
TW: uhhh existential dread ig? Idk also death
I remember. That is my one true purpose in life, I can never forget what everyone else will eventually forget, and that is everything. I remember when life first appeared on this earth and I soon felt the birth of something else. Memories. Oh sweet memories. The inhabitants of earth always left them scattered about but I collected them and kept them safe. I remember when fish first ventured onto land, though they do not. I remember the first time an animal ever used something as a tool, though they do not. I remember when you were born. I remember your first smile, your first laugh, your first words. One day you are going to die. That is a fact of life and we know nothing may last forever. I can remember everything, but the future is a mystery to me. But I do hope that you live your life to your fullest and when you do finally die you will be happy. I hope that people will remember you for many years to come, but I know eventually they won’t. Any place your name is written will fade away, photographs will crumble to dust, all who knew you, who were ever affected by anything you said will die. Recordings of your voice will be lost to time. When that day has come I will be there for you with my boat. All this time you will be living in the afterlife as you believe it should be. That I have no control over, but when at last the last memory of you drifts into the wind, I will see you wandering by the shore of the lake and you will be staring at your reflection trying to remember who you are. But the water will be too dark and you will have lost all distinguishing features. You will be an empty shell of what you once were and you will be scared. When I offer my hand and words of reassurance, you will step onto the boat and I will row us away. We will go past forgotten civilizations, unknown animals that once roamed this land, and everything else that can no longer be remembered. When we get to shore, I will walk you to a bridge and offer you a choice. You can have your memories or you can cross that bridge and start life all anew. Some people have pulled a trick on me and taken both. You’d think I would remember to stop that now but I admit I don’t. There are always side effects however so it is better to choose just one. If you choose to cross the bridge, I will still guard your memories. Every happy moment, every sad moment, every triumph and every fall. And though you may want to be reborn many times, I hope one day, you will sit with all your memories and you will be at peace. I hope you are proud of who you were and though there will be memories of your mistakes I hope they do not get you down. In your life or lives, I know you will have done so much, and though everyone else will forget, I never will. I remember.
539 words
final weekly
Your Journey: fanfi, option #1, thriller, option #3, bifi, option #2, dystopian, option #1, scifi, option #3, folklore, option #3, realfi, option #2, poetry, option #3, mystery, option #3, horror, option #2, adventure, option #2, fantasy, option #2, script, option #2, nonfi, option #1, hifi, option #3
worked on two different stories. story two included a perspective/time jump
(warnings, mention of death, fighting, child s*crifice, and drinking bad stuff)
story 1
The baying of a wolf woke Cerise up. She jumped to her feet, grabbing her sword off the wall. They’d broken the oath. She started pulling on her armor when her sister Zuliy woke up groggily. “Oh for Moon’s sake, Cerise. That’s just the neighbor’s dog.”
“Oh,” she said, putting the sword away in embarrassment. “Well, everyone knows it’s only a matter of time before the wolf-gods break the truce.”
Zuliy sighed and started making her bed. “And what exactly do you think you could do if they did attack?”
“I took down a field bear with Father last month,” Cerise grumbled, taking the armor off.
“Yeah, a bear. Not a literal god.”
Cerise started putting on her normal everyday tunic, tying her short chestnut hair back with an old worn ribbon. “Who do you think they’ll choose tonight?”
“Beats me.”
Centuries ago, the people of the city had made a deal with the wolf-gods of the forest. The wolf-gods would protect them from other creatures of the forest and not harm them if livestock was sacrificed to them once a month and three children every ten years. The only limit was that children under five couldn’t be sacrificed because the wolves didn’t like their taste. Normally the council chose a weak child belonging to a family that could no longer care for them. Cerise had been four the last time a ceremony happened. She remembered the three young boys who had been chosen. Sons of two criminals who were looked after by a woman who did the laundry for some of the richer folks. One of them had always been mean to Cerise, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. Seeing their scared expressions when it was announced they’d been chosen. Ivan, the youngest, had broken down sobbing. Cerise didn’t remember much more but she did remember a week later when one of the wolf-gods had brought back their skulls. Everyone always said the wolves looked like dogs, but she couldn’t really see it. Their fur was the swirling gray of smoke, their claws and teeth sharp as daggers, they were the size of horses, and their eyes of malevolent hatred she hadn’t seen in even the meanest dog. Cerise hadn’t even been supposed to see. Her mother had yelled at her when she found out, but even at that young age, Cerise knew that she hated the wolves. Even mean boys like the Valin brothers didn’t deserve to be eaten.
Someone knocked on their bedroom door. “Cerise, Zuliy, are you almost ready? Your grandmother will be here soon for the ceremony and we need wood chopped for the fire. Unless you want me to do it myself…”
It was their father. He knew Cerise would never pass up a chance to use the axe. Especially because her fear of the forest prevented her from ever going to chop an actual tree down, but she really enjoyed chopping trees up for firewood. “Coming father,” the sisters chimed together.
Zuliy went to help with breakfast and Cerise went to chop firewood. Once chores were over, Cerise accompanied her father to a small pre-ceremony meeting that he had to go to as the city's main general, not that they had any official sort of army. They walked to the tall collumed council building with its beautiful stained glass windows. Most of the pictures were of wolves. Cerise wanted to smash those windows in. They went inside the building and knelt on the cold tiled floor in front of the statue of the wolf-god. Then in turn to the four council members.
“Rise,” said the last council member who was also the youngest. A man with a bushy black beard. “Titus, daughter of Titus, we have some stuff to discuss about security at the ceremony.”
“We have decided this year that anyone you deem to be too disruptive may be k*lled for the good of the city,” an older man said. “And we are going to be putting more barbed wire around the ceremony circle so that it will be harder for people to run. Harm cannot be done to the children chosen, but we have some extra tools for you to make them more compliant if you must drag them.”
Cerise looked at her father in alarm. She had known of course what they were expected to do but now it just felt more real. She hadn’t even wanted to come, but her father insisted, even though he knew how much she hated the sacrifices. Actually, maybe that was the reason. Maybe he wanted to teach her a lesson but that didn’t quite seem like him. You wouldn’t be able to spot it if you didn’t know, but Cerise saw some sort of twinkle in his hazel eyes. Father had a plan.
When they got back, grandmother was already there and she had a ball of yarn but it was a color Cerise had never seen in yarn or any sort of fabric.
Colors were powerful and so dying fabrics certain colors was forbidden, but no color was quite as forbidden as red and this yarn was the exact color of ripe cherries.
(fix first/third person mix up later)
“Grandmother?!” I exclaimed, staring in shock.
None of my other family members looked taken aback. Did they know what was going on while I didn’t? Before I could demand an answer out of them, something shattered our windows and we had to duck and cover. Grandmother hid the forbidden yarn.
A creature jumped in through the shattered window. It was the size of a ten-year-old child and had relatively human features except for the leaves growing out of it and the fact that it had no eyes, just a giant mouth taking up most of its face with needle-like teeth and large nostrils.
A color scout. They came from the forest when they sensed a forbidden color.
It began sniffing around and Cerise drew her sword. “Get away!” she shouted. None of her family members made a move to help her, which annoyed her and this fueled her strength against the plant creature’s attacks. She hacked away at roots it sent jutting out of their floor, dodged the poisonous leaves it tried to throw at her.
“The forbidden colors have been sensed,” it screeched. “You are an enemy of the wolves and you must die.
“You’re absolutely right that I’m an enemy of the wolves,” Cerise said, kicking the creature into the fire where she watched it burn. The screeches were too similar to the screams of a child, so Cerise had to plug her ears. But it served that demon right.
“Okay, now who’s going to tell me what’s going on?” she demanded. Then noticed that her sword had been turned into dead leaves. “Okay seriously what the heck is all this?”
“The last curse of a color scout, not a very powerful one, but quite annoying,” her mother said. Cerise reached for the yarn and it started to crumble into dead leaves. Luckily, Grandmother snatched it away. “Case in point. We need that yarn.”
“You want to get us killed? Come on, toss that thing in the fire. That amount of red dye is surely going to get us killed,” Cerise insisted.
“No, this red is going to save us all, Cerise,” her father said, putting his hand on her shoulder before remembering and quickly pulling his hand away, the tips of his fingers crumbling to dead leaves. “This curse should only last a few minutes, but the important thing is the red dye. Which has to do with the fact that we are going to make sure you are chosen for the sacrifice tonight.”
Chapter 4
Ignatius figured he had the homicidal old lady to thank for the clue about the recent goat murders. Okay, she wasn’t exactly homicidal per say, but the way she had looked at him and Lachlan, she definitely seemed capable of k*lling someone. The two of them had hung out again a few days after they had met and decided to head down to the abandoned yarn factory. The factory itself was barred off so they couldn’t get inside, but it was interesting to hang out near. Ignatius and Lachlan could both agree that they enjoyed the vibes, though they had very different reasons of why. But that wasn’t what was important. Lachlan and Ignatius were sitting against the outer wall of the factory and Lachlan was talking in a dry sarcastic voice about how excited he was for a family camping trip his dad was taking him on the next day. “Just gotta love Grandma Janice and her lovely opinions,” he drawled. “Oh and of course you can’t forget Uncle Jesse and his delightful little brats.”
“Do you think that lady’s staring at us?” Ignatius asked suddenly.
“Should I care? If she’s some psycho murderer maybe it’ll get me out of this camping trip,” Lachlan sighed, but he looked up. There was a house across the street and the old lady on the porch was definitely staring at them through binoculars. Like, so much for subtlety.
“What the h*ll?” Lachlan asked, getting to his feet. “She sure looks happy,” he said sarcastically. In truth, the old lady was looking at them like they murdered her family and she needed her revenge.
“Maybe coming here wasn’t the best idea,” Ignatius said, looking around. Not many other people lived around here. No witnesses if she decided to murder them. “Let’s get out of here,” he started to say, but then the old lady was running over. She was surprisingly fast for an old lady. Naturally, the boys started to run away. Igatius was more scared, lachlan was more annoyed at the inconvenience of it all.
“Wait, boys I have something important for you!”
And like an idiot, Ignatius slowed down for a second. He couldn’t help it curiosity was his weakness, well okay maybe his need to be the best was his weakness, but curiosity was up there.
“Oh little Ignatius, how you’ve grown,” she crooned though she still had the look of a killer which was deeply unsettling. What was more unsettling though was the fact that Ignatius realized he knew her.
“Mrs. Grashaw?” he asked in bewilderment. That was his second grade teacher, but he could have sworn he heard that she died. “Wh-what?”
“Yes..” she said, but she spoke slowly and with some hesitation. Like she was a fake. “Boys, there’s something inside of that factory that I need.” she had a gleam in her eyes, okay yeah she had definitely murdered someone before.
“I uh… we have to get home for dinner..” Ignatius said.
“Oh it’s only 2 o clock,” the old woman who may or may not have been Mrs. Grashaw, her eyes way too bright and cheerful.
“We have a lot of chores,” Lachlan offered with a sigh that sounded almost bored. “Really we would help if we could.”
“I’m sure your parents wouldn’t mind you helping an old lady out,” she said in an almost whiney voice. “Just go inside the factory. It won’t take you too long.”
“Do it yourself,” Ignatius said, trying to get away, but the old lady cornered him.
Lachlan looked like he wanted to leave but he sighed. “Alright lady, let him go, what do you want us to get?”
Before she could respond, a young man appeared from what seemed to be directly out of the shadows. He had tanned olive skin, bleached hair and a close cropped brown beard. The weird thing, besides the fact that he had seemingly appeared out of nowhere of course, was the fact that there was a sword strapped to his side. “Leave these kids alone Harriet,” he warned. “They’ve got no business with what’s going on.”
“Hey, whoa, what’s going on?” Ignatius demanded.
“Come on, let’s find somewhere to be with a few less freaks,” Lachlan grumbled at around the same time.
“Well maybe it’s time the humans stepped up a bit in the war efforts,” Mrs. Grashaw/Harriet muttered.
“You know the rules,” the younger man said. “You kids get out of here. Don’t come back to this factory again.”
“You called us human, like you guys weren’t,” Ignatius said, not budging.
“Dude, come on,” Lachlan said.
Ignatius just waved him off and with a sigh, Lachlan walked away. Ignatius knew that Lachlan wasn’t going to care about this kind of stuff, but with everything that had been happening lately, Ignatius wanted answers. So he was going to get them. He also made a mental note to come back to this factory once they were gone and figure out what it was that the old lady wanted.
“It doesn’t concern you,” the man said simply as if speaking to a child. “Now run along back to your parents.”
“Hey screw you,” Ignatius said. “The lady wanted a job done and I deserve to know what the job was.”
The man sighed in annoyance. “This is why we have rules Harriet. Just get out of here kid, it’s not safe.”
It was going to take more than that to convince Ignatius, but right as he thought that he heard the roar.
(stufff idk lol)
Chapter 5
The next few times felt like a numb blur to David. The drive home, sitting the kids down on the couch, explaining how there had been a car accident and their mother had died, Dex’s shock, the way he hadn’t spoken ever since finding out, Shep’s refusal to accept it, his sudden anger at everything, Astrid’s loneliness, and David’s guilt.
“It’s your fault,” Uncle Iskander murmured quietly next to him as they watched the coffin being lowered into the ground a few days after she had died. Maybe David misheard him, but it wasn’t like that made the words any less true. David had ignored Aunt Norna’s warnings and gotten her killed. He just wanted the word to spontaneously combust. Roscoe, who had been sleeping in his arms, now woke up. His face scrunched and he started to scream and wail. David sighed, and tried rocking him but he just wouldn’t stop.
“Give him to me,” Uncle Iskander said, snatching Roscoe away. “Last thing I need now is you doing something to my kids.” David definitely hadn’t misheard that one, and it felt like a knife in the gut. Shep, the twins, and now Roscoe were like his younger brothers and sister. He would never do anything to them. Wasn’t he the one who carried Dex home when he fell off his bike when he was six and scraped his leg open? Didn’t he and Shep used to play pirates when they were little, pretending the newborn twins were ugly sea monsters? He would never hurt them, but then again, he had thought the same thing about his aunt and look where everything was now. Uncle Iskander was right. David was a danger.
“Stupid, idiot,” he muttered to himself after Uncle Iskander had stepped away to try and calm Roscoe down.
“He’s doing it all wrong,” Astrid said quietly, bringing David out of his thoughts. “What?” David asked. “Dad. Look at the way he’s holding Roscoe. Mom would never do that.” her voice caught a little on the word mom. But then she wiped away her tears and marched over to where her father and little brother were.
David wasn’t sure what else to do, so he just stood there, pretending to listen to the words of the pastor.
“Will he ever shut up?” Shep grumbled. “I hate this place. I hate it.” He stomped on a nearby daisy.
David hated this place too, everything about it. All this talk of heaven and something about how Jesus saved them from hell. Before now, David could just think about Heaven and Hell, angels and demons, and all that as just silly stories, but now he had confirmation that demons really did exist. Where were you trying to take me? He asked aunt norna silently. Why did you die for me? What’s going on?
Unfortunately there was no answer. Could David communicate with ghosts in his dreams? He wondered. He doubted it, but he figured it would be a good thing to try. Then again though, did he even want to do that? He was pretty scared about what her reaction might be. Would she blame him too? Surely she had to. David wished he could turn back time and never get out of the car and run to that demon. He wished he had seen through its disguise. But there was no turning back time.
That night, his dreams were incredibly uneventful and he wasn’t able to find the ghost of his aunt. Maybe he just couldn’t do it or maybe it wasn’t possible
The next day, Uncle Iskander had to go to work and an old friend of Aunt Norna’s, a woman named Malia came over to take care of them. She understood that Dex needed to be left alone in his room for a while to process, she gave Shep some papers that he could shred by hand to take his stress out, and she let Astrid help her with baking some bread to have with dinner. David watched the way they kneaded the dough and it started to look more and more like well, bread. Baking was no particular interest of David’s but it was a distraction. “Can I help?”
“Of course,” Malia said gently, gesturing for him to come over. “Just wash your hands and put an apron on.” David did as told. “I was just telling your cousin a story about your aunt, I hope you don’t mind hearing it.”
David shrugged, watching what they were doing with the dough so that he could do the same. Currently they seemed to be folding spices into it, which filled the kitchen with a nice pleasant aroma. It was nice having something to block the stench of b**r. As soon as they had gotten home from the site where Aunt Norna had been killed, Uncle Iskander had started drinking. At the very least, he had had the decency to be s*ber for the funeral. And david hoped that since he started work back up, he would stop drinking. He forced himself to stop thinking about that, about the demons k*lling aunt norna, how roscoe would never know his mom and just concentrate on the bread. Malia was telling Astrid a story about when she and Aunt Norna were young, but David wasn’t paying too much attention. He offered to get a cloth to cover the dough while it rose as soon as he got the chance. Malia thanked him and said that was a great idea. The laundry room was on the way to his aunt and uncle, no just his uncle’s room and feeling suddenly curious, David poked his head inside. Was there a clue in here? Something that could tell him what Aunt Norna had meant when she talked about the place where it began? Where what began? Why was it so urgent they got back there? Was his father really still alive? Why had he been told all these years that he was dead? Was it to ease the fact that he wasn’t wanted.
“Hey, how’s that cloth coming along?” Malia called.
“Just a second,” David called. He hadn’t found anything, so he walked into the laundry room and grabbed a clean placemat. Yeah, sure this would probably work. He headed back to the kitchen and handed Malia the placemat. “I uh, I gotta go.” He didn’t wait for a response, he just walked into the backyard and sat on the swing. Aunt Norna’s death was his fault and somehow, he had to try and make it right.
He marched back inside. Malia had an arm around Astrid comfortingly and they were looking through a photo album together. “What’s the place where it began?”
Malia looked up in surprise. “Hmm? The place where what began?”
“I uh…” david trailed off. What indeed? Why did aunt norna have so many secrets. “Never mind,” he sighed. He was about to leave, but then realized something. Maybe the photo album held some clues, so he sat on the couch next to Astrid, and leaned over to look at the photos. Aunt Norna and some college friends, laughing at a table, Aunt Norna riding a horse, several photos from when she and Uncle Iskander got married, pregnancy photos, newborn shep wearing nothing but a diaper, his hair just a light dusting of brown, (Astrid giggled at a lot of those) a family portrait of aunt norna pregnant with the twins, uncle iskander, david blonde hair sticking in every direction, and shep, more focused on attempting to eat his hand than anything else. But David saw no clues about demons, but really what had he been expecting?
When David saw the glowing baby, he forgot pretty much all about the “place where it began” though. Astrid and Malia were just about to put the bread in the oven, when Roscoe woke up from his nap. “Do you mind getting him David?” Malia asked. David couldn’t very well explain that he was afraid of hurting him, so he just nodded and walked to the nursery. Once he got to the hall, he walked as slow as he could, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt nervously. As it would turn out though he didn’t need to worry so much about himself. When he finally got himself to open the door, he saw Roscoe. And he was floating in a light that seemed…. Almost heavenly.
3623 words
(old one getting too long there)
daily november 25th)
https://www.onceuponapicture.co.uk/portfolio_page/lost-world/
this is also inspired by me reading like 3 pages of the book thief and this youtube video i watched years ago
TW: uhhh existential dread ig? Idk also death
I remember. That is my one true purpose in life, I can never forget what everyone else will eventually forget, and that is everything. I remember when life first appeared on this earth and I soon felt the birth of something else. Memories. Oh sweet memories. The inhabitants of earth always left them scattered about but I collected them and kept them safe. I remember when fish first ventured onto land, though they do not. I remember the first time an animal ever used something as a tool, though they do not. I remember when you were born. I remember your first smile, your first laugh, your first words. One day you are going to die. That is a fact of life and we know nothing may last forever. I can remember everything, but the future is a mystery to me. But I do hope that you live your life to your fullest and when you do finally die you will be happy. I hope that people will remember you for many years to come, but I know eventually they won’t. Any place your name is written will fade away, photographs will crumble to dust, all who knew you, who were ever affected by anything you said will die. Recordings of your voice will be lost to time. When that day has come I will be there for you with my boat. All this time you will be living in the afterlife as you believe it should be. That I have no control over, but when at last the last memory of you drifts into the wind, I will see you wandering by the shore of the lake and you will be staring at your reflection trying to remember who you are. But the water will be too dark and you will have lost all distinguishing features. You will be an empty shell of what you once were and you will be scared. When I offer my hand and words of reassurance, you will step onto the boat and I will row us away. We will go past forgotten civilizations, unknown animals that once roamed this land, and everything else that can no longer be remembered. When we get to shore, I will walk you to a bridge and offer you a choice. You can have your memories or you can cross that bridge and start life all anew. Some people have pulled a trick on me and taken both. You’d think I would remember to stop that now but I admit I don’t. There are always side effects however so it is better to choose just one. If you choose to cross the bridge, I will still guard your memories. Every happy moment, every sad moment, every triumph and every fall. And though you may want to be reborn many times, I hope one day, you will sit with all your memories and you will be at peace. I hope you are proud of who you were and though there will be memories of your mistakes I hope they do not get you down. In your life or lives, I know you will have done so much, and though everyone else will forget, I never will. I remember.
539 words
final weekly
Your Journey: fanfi, option #1, thriller, option #3, bifi, option #2, dystopian, option #1, scifi, option #3, folklore, option #3, realfi, option #2, poetry, option #3, mystery, option #3, horror, option #2, adventure, option #2, fantasy, option #2, script, option #2, nonfi, option #1, hifi, option #3
worked on two different stories. story two included a perspective/time jump
(warnings, mention of death, fighting, child s*crifice, and drinking bad stuff)
story 1
The baying of a wolf woke Cerise up. She jumped to her feet, grabbing her sword off the wall. They’d broken the oath. She started pulling on her armor when her sister Zuliy woke up groggily. “Oh for Moon’s sake, Cerise. That’s just the neighbor’s dog.”
“Oh,” she said, putting the sword away in embarrassment. “Well, everyone knows it’s only a matter of time before the wolf-gods break the truce.”
Zuliy sighed and started making her bed. “And what exactly do you think you could do if they did attack?”
“I took down a field bear with Father last month,” Cerise grumbled, taking the armor off.
“Yeah, a bear. Not a literal god.”
Cerise started putting on her normal everyday tunic, tying her short chestnut hair back with an old worn ribbon. “Who do you think they’ll choose tonight?”
“Beats me.”
Centuries ago, the people of the city had made a deal with the wolf-gods of the forest. The wolf-gods would protect them from other creatures of the forest and not harm them if livestock was sacrificed to them once a month and three children every ten years. The only limit was that children under five couldn’t be sacrificed because the wolves didn’t like their taste. Normally the council chose a weak child belonging to a family that could no longer care for them. Cerise had been four the last time a ceremony happened. She remembered the three young boys who had been chosen. Sons of two criminals who were looked after by a woman who did the laundry for some of the richer folks. One of them had always been mean to Cerise, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. Seeing their scared expressions when it was announced they’d been chosen. Ivan, the youngest, had broken down sobbing. Cerise didn’t remember much more but she did remember a week later when one of the wolf-gods had brought back their skulls. Everyone always said the wolves looked like dogs, but she couldn’t really see it. Their fur was the swirling gray of smoke, their claws and teeth sharp as daggers, they were the size of horses, and their eyes of malevolent hatred she hadn’t seen in even the meanest dog. Cerise hadn’t even been supposed to see. Her mother had yelled at her when she found out, but even at that young age, Cerise knew that she hated the wolves. Even mean boys like the Valin brothers didn’t deserve to be eaten.
Someone knocked on their bedroom door. “Cerise, Zuliy, are you almost ready? Your grandmother will be here soon for the ceremony and we need wood chopped for the fire. Unless you want me to do it myself…”
It was their father. He knew Cerise would never pass up a chance to use the axe. Especially because her fear of the forest prevented her from ever going to chop an actual tree down, but she really enjoyed chopping trees up for firewood. “Coming father,” the sisters chimed together.
Zuliy went to help with breakfast and Cerise went to chop firewood. Once chores were over, Cerise accompanied her father to a small pre-ceremony meeting that he had to go to as the city's main general, not that they had any official sort of army. They walked to the tall collumed council building with its beautiful stained glass windows. Most of the pictures were of wolves. Cerise wanted to smash those windows in. They went inside the building and knelt on the cold tiled floor in front of the statue of the wolf-god. Then in turn to the four council members.
“Rise,” said the last council member who was also the youngest. A man with a bushy black beard. “Titus, daughter of Titus, we have some stuff to discuss about security at the ceremony.”
“We have decided this year that anyone you deem to be too disruptive may be k*lled for the good of the city,” an older man said. “And we are going to be putting more barbed wire around the ceremony circle so that it will be harder for people to run. Harm cannot be done to the children chosen, but we have some extra tools for you to make them more compliant if you must drag them.”
Cerise looked at her father in alarm. She had known of course what they were expected to do but now it just felt more real. She hadn’t even wanted to come, but her father insisted, even though he knew how much she hated the sacrifices. Actually, maybe that was the reason. Maybe he wanted to teach her a lesson but that didn’t quite seem like him. You wouldn’t be able to spot it if you didn’t know, but Cerise saw some sort of twinkle in his hazel eyes. Father had a plan.
When they got back, grandmother was already there and she had a ball of yarn but it was a color Cerise had never seen in yarn or any sort of fabric.
Colors were powerful and so dying fabrics certain colors was forbidden, but no color was quite as forbidden as red and this yarn was the exact color of ripe cherries.
(fix first/third person mix up later)
“Grandmother?!” I exclaimed, staring in shock.
None of my other family members looked taken aback. Did they know what was going on while I didn’t? Before I could demand an answer out of them, something shattered our windows and we had to duck and cover. Grandmother hid the forbidden yarn.
A creature jumped in through the shattered window. It was the size of a ten-year-old child and had relatively human features except for the leaves growing out of it and the fact that it had no eyes, just a giant mouth taking up most of its face with needle-like teeth and large nostrils.
A color scout. They came from the forest when they sensed a forbidden color.
It began sniffing around and Cerise drew her sword. “Get away!” she shouted. None of her family members made a move to help her, which annoyed her and this fueled her strength against the plant creature’s attacks. She hacked away at roots it sent jutting out of their floor, dodged the poisonous leaves it tried to throw at her.
“The forbidden colors have been sensed,” it screeched. “You are an enemy of the wolves and you must die.
“You’re absolutely right that I’m an enemy of the wolves,” Cerise said, kicking the creature into the fire where she watched it burn. The screeches were too similar to the screams of a child, so Cerise had to plug her ears. But it served that demon right.
“Okay, now who’s going to tell me what’s going on?” she demanded. Then noticed that her sword had been turned into dead leaves. “Okay seriously what the heck is all this?”
“The last curse of a color scout, not a very powerful one, but quite annoying,” her mother said. Cerise reached for the yarn and it started to crumble into dead leaves. Luckily, Grandmother snatched it away. “Case in point. We need that yarn.”
“You want to get us killed? Come on, toss that thing in the fire. That amount of red dye is surely going to get us killed,” Cerise insisted.
“No, this red is going to save us all, Cerise,” her father said, putting his hand on her shoulder before remembering and quickly pulling his hand away, the tips of his fingers crumbling to dead leaves. “This curse should only last a few minutes, but the important thing is the red dye. Which has to do with the fact that we are going to make sure you are chosen for the sacrifice tonight.”
Chapter 4
Ignatius figured he had the homicidal old lady to thank for the clue about the recent goat murders. Okay, she wasn’t exactly homicidal per say, but the way she had looked at him and Lachlan, she definitely seemed capable of k*lling someone. The two of them had hung out again a few days after they had met and decided to head down to the abandoned yarn factory. The factory itself was barred off so they couldn’t get inside, but it was interesting to hang out near. Ignatius and Lachlan could both agree that they enjoyed the vibes, though they had very different reasons of why. But that wasn’t what was important. Lachlan and Ignatius were sitting against the outer wall of the factory and Lachlan was talking in a dry sarcastic voice about how excited he was for a family camping trip his dad was taking him on the next day. “Just gotta love Grandma Janice and her lovely opinions,” he drawled. “Oh and of course you can’t forget Uncle Jesse and his delightful little brats.”
“Do you think that lady’s staring at us?” Ignatius asked suddenly.
“Should I care? If she’s some psycho murderer maybe it’ll get me out of this camping trip,” Lachlan sighed, but he looked up. There was a house across the street and the old lady on the porch was definitely staring at them through binoculars. Like, so much for subtlety.
“What the h*ll?” Lachlan asked, getting to his feet. “She sure looks happy,” he said sarcastically. In truth, the old lady was looking at them like they murdered her family and she needed her revenge.
“Maybe coming here wasn’t the best idea,” Ignatius said, looking around. Not many other people lived around here. No witnesses if she decided to murder them. “Let’s get out of here,” he started to say, but then the old lady was running over. She was surprisingly fast for an old lady. Naturally, the boys started to run away. Igatius was more scared, lachlan was more annoyed at the inconvenience of it all.
“Wait, boys I have something important for you!”
And like an idiot, Ignatius slowed down for a second. He couldn’t help it curiosity was his weakness, well okay maybe his need to be the best was his weakness, but curiosity was up there.
“Oh little Ignatius, how you’ve grown,” she crooned though she still had the look of a killer which was deeply unsettling. What was more unsettling though was the fact that Ignatius realized he knew her.
“Mrs. Grashaw?” he asked in bewilderment. That was his second grade teacher, but he could have sworn he heard that she died. “Wh-what?”
“Yes..” she said, but she spoke slowly and with some hesitation. Like she was a fake. “Boys, there’s something inside of that factory that I need.” she had a gleam in her eyes, okay yeah she had definitely murdered someone before.
“I uh… we have to get home for dinner..” Ignatius said.
“Oh it’s only 2 o clock,” the old woman who may or may not have been Mrs. Grashaw, her eyes way too bright and cheerful.
“We have a lot of chores,” Lachlan offered with a sigh that sounded almost bored. “Really we would help if we could.”
“I’m sure your parents wouldn’t mind you helping an old lady out,” she said in an almost whiney voice. “Just go inside the factory. It won’t take you too long.”
“Do it yourself,” Ignatius said, trying to get away, but the old lady cornered him.
Lachlan looked like he wanted to leave but he sighed. “Alright lady, let him go, what do you want us to get?”
Before she could respond, a young man appeared from what seemed to be directly out of the shadows. He had tanned olive skin, bleached hair and a close cropped brown beard. The weird thing, besides the fact that he had seemingly appeared out of nowhere of course, was the fact that there was a sword strapped to his side. “Leave these kids alone Harriet,” he warned. “They’ve got no business with what’s going on.”
“Hey, whoa, what’s going on?” Ignatius demanded.
“Come on, let’s find somewhere to be with a few less freaks,” Lachlan grumbled at around the same time.
“Well maybe it’s time the humans stepped up a bit in the war efforts,” Mrs. Grashaw/Harriet muttered.
“You know the rules,” the younger man said. “You kids get out of here. Don’t come back to this factory again.”
“You called us human, like you guys weren’t,” Ignatius said, not budging.
“Dude, come on,” Lachlan said.
Ignatius just waved him off and with a sigh, Lachlan walked away. Ignatius knew that Lachlan wasn’t going to care about this kind of stuff, but with everything that had been happening lately, Ignatius wanted answers. So he was going to get them. He also made a mental note to come back to this factory once they were gone and figure out what it was that the old lady wanted.
“It doesn’t concern you,” the man said simply as if speaking to a child. “Now run along back to your parents.”
“Hey screw you,” Ignatius said. “The lady wanted a job done and I deserve to know what the job was.”
The man sighed in annoyance. “This is why we have rules Harriet. Just get out of here kid, it’s not safe.”
It was going to take more than that to convince Ignatius, but right as he thought that he heard the roar.
(stufff idk lol)
Chapter 5
The next few times felt like a numb blur to David. The drive home, sitting the kids down on the couch, explaining how there had been a car accident and their mother had died, Dex’s shock, the way he hadn’t spoken ever since finding out, Shep’s refusal to accept it, his sudden anger at everything, Astrid’s loneliness, and David’s guilt.
“It’s your fault,” Uncle Iskander murmured quietly next to him as they watched the coffin being lowered into the ground a few days after she had died. Maybe David misheard him, but it wasn’t like that made the words any less true. David had ignored Aunt Norna’s warnings and gotten her killed. He just wanted the word to spontaneously combust. Roscoe, who had been sleeping in his arms, now woke up. His face scrunched and he started to scream and wail. David sighed, and tried rocking him but he just wouldn’t stop.
“Give him to me,” Uncle Iskander said, snatching Roscoe away. “Last thing I need now is you doing something to my kids.” David definitely hadn’t misheard that one, and it felt like a knife in the gut. Shep, the twins, and now Roscoe were like his younger brothers and sister. He would never do anything to them. Wasn’t he the one who carried Dex home when he fell off his bike when he was six and scraped his leg open? Didn’t he and Shep used to play pirates when they were little, pretending the newborn twins were ugly sea monsters? He would never hurt them, but then again, he had thought the same thing about his aunt and look where everything was now. Uncle Iskander was right. David was a danger.
“Stupid, idiot,” he muttered to himself after Uncle Iskander had stepped away to try and calm Roscoe down.
“He’s doing it all wrong,” Astrid said quietly, bringing David out of his thoughts. “What?” David asked. “Dad. Look at the way he’s holding Roscoe. Mom would never do that.” her voice caught a little on the word mom. But then she wiped away her tears and marched over to where her father and little brother were.
David wasn’t sure what else to do, so he just stood there, pretending to listen to the words of the pastor.
“Will he ever shut up?” Shep grumbled. “I hate this place. I hate it.” He stomped on a nearby daisy.
David hated this place too, everything about it. All this talk of heaven and something about how Jesus saved them from hell. Before now, David could just think about Heaven and Hell, angels and demons, and all that as just silly stories, but now he had confirmation that demons really did exist. Where were you trying to take me? He asked aunt norna silently. Why did you die for me? What’s going on?
Unfortunately there was no answer. Could David communicate with ghosts in his dreams? He wondered. He doubted it, but he figured it would be a good thing to try. Then again though, did he even want to do that? He was pretty scared about what her reaction might be. Would she blame him too? Surely she had to. David wished he could turn back time and never get out of the car and run to that demon. He wished he had seen through its disguise. But there was no turning back time.
That night, his dreams were incredibly uneventful and he wasn’t able to find the ghost of his aunt. Maybe he just couldn’t do it or maybe it wasn’t possible
The next day, Uncle Iskander had to go to work and an old friend of Aunt Norna’s, a woman named Malia came over to take care of them. She understood that Dex needed to be left alone in his room for a while to process, she gave Shep some papers that he could shred by hand to take his stress out, and she let Astrid help her with baking some bread to have with dinner. David watched the way they kneaded the dough and it started to look more and more like well, bread. Baking was no particular interest of David’s but it was a distraction. “Can I help?”
“Of course,” Malia said gently, gesturing for him to come over. “Just wash your hands and put an apron on.” David did as told. “I was just telling your cousin a story about your aunt, I hope you don’t mind hearing it.”
David shrugged, watching what they were doing with the dough so that he could do the same. Currently they seemed to be folding spices into it, which filled the kitchen with a nice pleasant aroma. It was nice having something to block the stench of b**r. As soon as they had gotten home from the site where Aunt Norna had been killed, Uncle Iskander had started drinking. At the very least, he had had the decency to be s*ber for the funeral. And david hoped that since he started work back up, he would stop drinking. He forced himself to stop thinking about that, about the demons k*lling aunt norna, how roscoe would never know his mom and just concentrate on the bread. Malia was telling Astrid a story about when she and Aunt Norna were young, but David wasn’t paying too much attention. He offered to get a cloth to cover the dough while it rose as soon as he got the chance. Malia thanked him and said that was a great idea. The laundry room was on the way to his aunt and uncle, no just his uncle’s room and feeling suddenly curious, David poked his head inside. Was there a clue in here? Something that could tell him what Aunt Norna had meant when she talked about the place where it began? Where what began? Why was it so urgent they got back there? Was his father really still alive? Why had he been told all these years that he was dead? Was it to ease the fact that he wasn’t wanted.
“Hey, how’s that cloth coming along?” Malia called.
“Just a second,” David called. He hadn’t found anything, so he walked into the laundry room and grabbed a clean placemat. Yeah, sure this would probably work. He headed back to the kitchen and handed Malia the placemat. “I uh, I gotta go.” He didn’t wait for a response, he just walked into the backyard and sat on the swing. Aunt Norna’s death was his fault and somehow, he had to try and make it right.
He marched back inside. Malia had an arm around Astrid comfortingly and they were looking through a photo album together. “What’s the place where it began?”
Malia looked up in surprise. “Hmm? The place where what began?”
“I uh…” david trailed off. What indeed? Why did aunt norna have so many secrets. “Never mind,” he sighed. He was about to leave, but then realized something. Maybe the photo album held some clues, so he sat on the couch next to Astrid, and leaned over to look at the photos. Aunt Norna and some college friends, laughing at a table, Aunt Norna riding a horse, several photos from when she and Uncle Iskander got married, pregnancy photos, newborn shep wearing nothing but a diaper, his hair just a light dusting of brown, (Astrid giggled at a lot of those) a family portrait of aunt norna pregnant with the twins, uncle iskander, david blonde hair sticking in every direction, and shep, more focused on attempting to eat his hand than anything else. But David saw no clues about demons, but really what had he been expecting?
When David saw the glowing baby, he forgot pretty much all about the “place where it began” though. Astrid and Malia were just about to put the bread in the oven, when Roscoe woke up from his nap. “Do you mind getting him David?” Malia asked. David couldn’t very well explain that he was afraid of hurting him, so he just nodded and walked to the nursery. Once he got to the hall, he walked as slow as he could, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt nervously. As it would turn out though he didn’t need to worry so much about himself. When he finally got himself to open the door, he saw Roscoe. And he was floating in a light that seemed…. Almost heavenly.
3623 words
Last edited by xXFierroOrFalafelXx (Nov. 29, 2022 19:48:47)
- gooseful
-
Scratcher
100+ posts
SWC Megathread || Nov. 2022
╔══ ≪ daily twenty five ══╗
" Have you heard the famous phrase ‘A picture is worth a thousand words’? Today, we ask you to find a picture on onceuponapicture.co.uk (if you don't have access to the site, you can choose a picture from this project: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/764339470/ ), take a look at the questions associated with it, and write a story based on the picture. If there are prompts, you are welcome to use them if you wish, but you do not have to. Make sure to answer some of the questions about it in your writing. The final piece should be at least 400 words for 400 points. (If you want to honor the adage, you can write 1k words as well, but you will not receive extra points for that) "
https://www.onceuponapicture.co.uk/portfolio_page/above-the-sky/ this image was so pretty and it really stood out to me! <3
Stars and clouds of rocks and dust splattered the navy sky like paint. Earth's moon, a mere crescent from here, was nothing compared to the glory of the others that she was witnessing: great, orbs of rock were what seemed like only a couple of feet away, orbiting around their host-planet, desperate to protect. She knew that she herself was just a silhouette, light blaring from the sun and falling onto her few possessions. She tightened her hand's grip on her little grey umbrella.
Are you alright? You'll be alright, the stars sing.
There are so many stars, so many that it would seem suffocating had she not been prepared, and it would still feel suffocating even so if she didn't love the stars with all her heart. There were so many of them, but they all loved her. Every movement of the stars, every time they aligned, it was like a gentle kiss to her cheek, a whisper in her ear and a hand running softly over her back, and she could loosen her grip on her umbrella without feeling scared.
What if she let go? Would Earth find its way back to her?
She didn't want to find Earth again.
This brilliance was good enough a home for her. She could stay there with her umbrella and her bag, clasping them to her chest, and watch the universe expand for all eternity. Would time take its toll on her? Would it reach out and find her, hold her, change her like it did on Earth? There was no way of knowing, but just hoping that she had escaped time's cruel clutches was enough to make her smile. It was gorgeous, here. It was everything she had never seen before and everything that she ever would see.
This was nothing, says the song of the stars. Now it is everything.
Nothing. Everything. Are they similar? She imagined them together, nothing and everything, rival forces which circle each other. Sometimes nothingness claims someone, and sometimes everything gives another person all they've ever wanted.
Here she was, in the middle, succumbed to nothingness but with everything laid out within eyesight.
She didn't feel too numb.
Just tired.
Too much thinking did that to her.
She was an escape artist, a performer, for she had left Earth with aerial grace. She was a nurturer, a responsible adult, as her family had said. She was alone with the universe, and it was speaking to her.
She liked it better here than Earth. She hadn't had an opinion back where she had grown to call ‘home’. This was more welcoming.
The woman tightened her grip on her umbrella as the stars began to sing,
Celestial bodies of light,
Hold you throughout the dark night,
But now, you are alone
You are worthy,
You are here,
So, hush, our child,
And fall asleep
In a starry sky
With dreams we keep.
(490 words)
" Have you heard the famous phrase ‘A picture is worth a thousand words’? Today, we ask you to find a picture on onceuponapicture.co.uk (if you don't have access to the site, you can choose a picture from this project: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/764339470/ ), take a look at the questions associated with it, and write a story based on the picture. If there are prompts, you are welcome to use them if you wish, but you do not have to. Make sure to answer some of the questions about it in your writing. The final piece should be at least 400 words for 400 points. (If you want to honor the adage, you can write 1k words as well, but you will not receive extra points for that) "
https://www.onceuponapicture.co.uk/portfolio_page/above-the-sky/ this image was so pretty and it really stood out to me! <3
Stars and clouds of rocks and dust splattered the navy sky like paint. Earth's moon, a mere crescent from here, was nothing compared to the glory of the others that she was witnessing: great, orbs of rock were what seemed like only a couple of feet away, orbiting around their host-planet, desperate to protect. She knew that she herself was just a silhouette, light blaring from the sun and falling onto her few possessions. She tightened her hand's grip on her little grey umbrella.
Are you alright? You'll be alright, the stars sing.
There are so many stars, so many that it would seem suffocating had she not been prepared, and it would still feel suffocating even so if she didn't love the stars with all her heart. There were so many of them, but they all loved her. Every movement of the stars, every time they aligned, it was like a gentle kiss to her cheek, a whisper in her ear and a hand running softly over her back, and she could loosen her grip on her umbrella without feeling scared.
What if she let go? Would Earth find its way back to her?
She didn't want to find Earth again.
This brilliance was good enough a home for her. She could stay there with her umbrella and her bag, clasping them to her chest, and watch the universe expand for all eternity. Would time take its toll on her? Would it reach out and find her, hold her, change her like it did on Earth? There was no way of knowing, but just hoping that she had escaped time's cruel clutches was enough to make her smile. It was gorgeous, here. It was everything she had never seen before and everything that she ever would see.
This was nothing, says the song of the stars. Now it is everything.
Nothing. Everything. Are they similar? She imagined them together, nothing and everything, rival forces which circle each other. Sometimes nothingness claims someone, and sometimes everything gives another person all they've ever wanted.
Here she was, in the middle, succumbed to nothingness but with everything laid out within eyesight.
She didn't feel too numb.
Just tired.
Too much thinking did that to her.
She was an escape artist, a performer, for she had left Earth with aerial grace. She was a nurturer, a responsible adult, as her family had said. She was alone with the universe, and it was speaking to her.
She liked it better here than Earth. She hadn't had an opinion back where she had grown to call ‘home’. This was more welcoming.
The woman tightened her grip on her umbrella as the stars began to sing,
Celestial bodies of light,
Hold you throughout the dark night,
But now, you are alone
You are worthy,
You are here,
So, hush, our child,
And fall asleep
In a starry sky
With dreams we keep.
(490 words)
