JWC fanfiction-
263 words

Chat JWC

Ava- Guyzzzzzzzz
Eevee- What
Ava- We still haven't chosen a name for our grooouuupp
Eevee- What do you mean
Eevee- It's JWC
Ava- Yes but what does that mean
Eevee- …
Em- You know what, Ava's kind of right
Em- How could we make a short form without knowing the long form?

Eevee- …
Eevee- now I won't be able to sleep.

Kat- I have an Idea
Kat- How about we think about ideas for the name, and then we come back tomorrow and list them all out?

Ava- Sounds good to me.

THE NEXT DAY

Ava- Alright you guys ready?
Skylar- we sure are
Ava- Who'll start?

Em- I guess I could
Em- Jewels With Crowns

Eevee- PFFT
Eevee- WHAT

Em- WhAAaaT

Eevee- HOW DOES THAT EVEN MAKE SENsE?!!?

Em- ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I don't know
Em- You said we're pooling out ideas

Eevee- alright alright fine
Eevee- my turn
Eevee- How about Jumpsuits with Capes?

Ava- I-
Ava- And you tell Em her idea is weird

Eevee- HeEeEeY
Eevee- When I was a kid I used to dream of having a jumpsuit with a cape

Ava-…
Ava- I'm not even going to ask
Ava- Next?

Skylar- How about Jump With Charm?

Eevee- hmmm…….

Em- No
Em- It's way too sophisticated.

Ava- AND YOURS ISN'T?

Em- I MEAAAAAAAAAAAn

The whole group started participating in the name-pooling challenge as the day went by. In the end, they all decided on naming it after one thing they liked the most- January Writing Camp
Ava- wait
Ava- What happens in February

I didn't want to be a half-blood.

I wheezed, gasping for breath. Percy was showing me what the community had written for him, and the first lines were exquisite. Percy sat next to me, his arms crossed, laughing as well. We were the only ones in the Poseidon cabin. I was pretty sure he didn't want to come to my house; Hades cabin, so I just invited myself over here.
Hazel walked in. ‘What’s happening?' I quickly sat up and waved my hand, and asked her to come to see this book.

A FEW MINUTES LATER…

'Hey, what's going on?!'
Leo was looking at seeing us all laughing without us. Frank had tears in his eyes, while Piper was doubling over. Percy himself was cracking up, and way worse than the others.
'You're laughing without me!!' Leo huffed and picked the book from my hand.

A FEW MINUTES/HOURS LATER…

Leo was on his back on the floor, giggling uncontrollably. Percy was waving his hand sideways, trying to tell us to stop, but laughing himself. I had never seen Annabeth so red in the face.
'What do they describe me a-as?' she giggled out. “ athletic and having curly blond hair like a princess's, tan skin, and stormy gray eyes.” She fell to the ground on her knees. ‘And first seaweed brain calls me ’cute' but then ‘seriously beautiful.’
We all started to laugh so loudly that Chiron came into the Poseidon cabin, and reminded us it was 1 AM.
Wait, it was 1 AM?!!
I ran to the Hades cabin, only to be pulled in the middle of the road by Leo. ‘YOU DARE LEAVE ME BEHIND.’ he whined, and I rolled my eyes. I turned slack and got flung backward.
Leo was looking at me, fake sad. ‘How could you joke without me?’ he asked. He crossed his arms. ‘You’re so mean.'
'Awwwww' I teased. ‘Is little Leo jeawous?’
Leo suddenly smirked and picked me up from the legs, hanging me upside down.
I shrieked. ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!’
Leo carried me like that the whole way to the lake and I widened my eyes, finally realizing what he was going to do.
'no no no no no NONO LEO-'

And I got thrown into the lake, Leo jumping in behind me.

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Weeky #4 - Editing

Total Words: 1,670
Points: 1,600

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Part One
Words: 363

Original Writing (by @Coding_Captain_UG): https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/653074/?page=1#post-6865445

Critique:
Firstly, I really love this story! It’s super gripping and makes the reader want to learn more about what will happen next. You did a really great job showing your personality gradually through the piece without disrupting the storyline or the flow.
I also loved how fast-paced it is- the story keeps moving, and it keeps it very interesting and fresh! My favorite part was the ending- it was very suspenseful and exciting, and really intrigued me.
The fact that you also weaved hints about the library into the story, like the books on the seal of the envelope and the book-shaped pendant, was a very smart foreshadowing move.

There were just a couple places where I thought some more detail could add to the story and make what’s happening easier to understand:
1. In the beginning, when the sparrow dropped off the envelope at CCU’s window. You wrote that the sparrow “handed” her the envelope, and I was wondering how the bird was holding it. Was it being held in the bird’s wing, or in its beak, or in a different way? This detail might not be important to some people, but at least for me it's easier to bring the scene to life in my mind if I can visualize how it could happen.
2. Near the end, right after Lune’s last line, you wrote that she “disappeared”, and similarly to the first part, I found myself wondering how she disappeared; with a puff of smoke, slowly fading, or with magic sparks around her? And some people could possibly interpret “disappeared” simply as hyperbole for explaining that she simply left the room or stepped out of sight abruptly.
3. The last part I found a bit confusing was when CCU was looking out her window, searching for clues; nothing really tells us where the pendent is. Was it inside her house? How could she reach it if it was outside?

So in summary, I think your story could benefit from just a tiny bit more detail to bring the logistics to life, but you did a fantastic job with the storytelling flow and really carried the theme of the daily. <33


Part Two
Words changed/added: 506

@Coding_Captain_UG's critique for my piece: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/653074/?page=2#post-6924321

My edited version:
“Ahhh…” I sighed contentedly as I sat down in my armchair and set my feet down on the ottoman. It had been a long day of untangling lies, catching thieves, and continuing my fruitless search for the most dreaded criminal in town, Lira Luck. Lira was a devious, dangerously intelligent criminal, who changed up her appearance with guises and alternate personas so often that there was no official record of what she truly looked like. Nothing was safe from her, and she gave in to no one.
“Another good day, Violet. Yet still no sign of Ms. Luck.” I said thoughtfully to my bunny. “Where do you think she could have gone?”
“Squeak!” replied Violet.
I nodded. “A valiant point.”
Taking out my worn, leather-bound journal from a hole in the armchair that was freely leaking stuffing, I made a note of what I’d accomplished today. Even if no one saw me as a world-famous detective yet, they would one day. While all of the official-looking, middle-aged men with monocles attempted to solve the cases brought to them, I, Margaret Beauregarde, was doing the real work. No one suspected a small, slightly teenage girl in a purple sweater of being a detective, which made it all the more easy for me to sneak around and solve cases. I found my clients by scanning the “lost and found” column of all the most popular daily newspapers, then carried out my escapes. Undercover in plain sight, I was. That could be the name of my memoir…
“Ding-dong!”
I jumped a bit in my seat in surprise at the sound, starling Violet. Who could that be? No one ever visited my tiny, second-floor apartment room- in fact, half the time I believed the landlady downstairs (the middle-aged Ms. Plum Twiddle, in case you cared to know) forgot that I even lived here or existed. Even myself, I dared to admit, had even forgotten the fact that I had a doorbell.
“C-come in?” I called hesitantly. (I of course didn’t stand up to greet whomever was at the door - I was quite occupied, with Violet being on my lap and all).
The door slowly opened, and a lady stepped in. She was very elegantly dressed, wearing a velvet red coat over her evening dress, and a fur draped around her shoulders. She had a tall, feathered hat upon her head and a worried expression on her face.
“Is this Miss Beauregarde?” she asked, squinting a little as she surveyed my messy living room, scattered with piles of paper and case notes.
“Yes, ma’am, it is she. May I help you?” I asked, gently lifting Violet off of my lap and standing up.
“I - I have an issue. Someone - I can’t seem to find someone.” The lady’s hands began to tremble as she spoke. “I heard that you’re a detective.”
“That I am.” I said with a small smile. How did this woman know about me?
“Come sit down ma’am, you look shaken.” I addressed her as I pulled up another chair near the fireplace.
The lady sat down, chattering nervously.
“I’m in such trouble, I don’t know what to do… I’ve already spoken to many detectives and inspectors around the town, but their so-called skills have helped me none. But then I heard one man mention your name… and I thought maybe you could help me."
I stared at her, aghast. A man, a detective, knew about me? Margaret Beauregarde, the world’s top undercover underage female detective? Bubbling over with anticipation on the inside but with a composed demeanor on the outside, I smiled placidly.
“Of course I can help you. Tell me everything you know.”
It looked like the Margaret Beauregarde Detective Agency had its first client.

I sat back down in my armchair, whipping out a notebook from the waistband of my skirt purposefully. Violet immediately hopped back up, and snuggled down in the exact same position she had been in before I so rudely removed her from my lap, her smug expression clearly saying, “You’d better sit with me for twice as long to make up for the previous disruption!”
My client wrinkled her nose ever so slightly at the sight of the rabbit, but remained her elegant damsel-in-distress air.
Flipping over to a fresh (though wrinkled) page of my notebook, I hovered my fountain pen over it and looked across the room, staring directly into the lady’s eyes.
“Ma’am, if you would like me to work with you, I need to know the full details of absolutely everything. Is that clear?”
“Y-yes, I suppose, of course.” She stuttered.
“Very well then,” I replied, “Name?”
“Ms. Beatrix Bankly.”
“Occupation?”
“I- I don’t have an occupation, I’m a lady of society.”
I glanced at her with disdain, but continued taking notes.
“Age?”
“Really, it’s quite unladylike to reveal one’s-”
“Ma’am. If you want me to unravel your woes, I need to know everything that you know. Let’s try this again: age?”
“Forty-one,” Ms. Bankly mumbled.
“Squeak!” Interjected Violet.
I smiled down at her. “Quite right Violet, you are three years old. Well done keeping track of time!”
Ms. Bankly cleared her throat more loudly than necessary. I got the feeling she did not fully appreciate the complexity of a rabbit’s mind. Perhaps we should continue.
“Current relationship status?”
“I am unmarried, if you must know.”
“Address?”
“Thirty-one Plum Street.”
I put down my pen, and took a sip of tea from my cup that sat on a small table beside me. It dawned on me that I ought to offer my client a hot drink as well, but I felt that untangling a mystery was more important than handing out refreshments.
“Lovely. Now, Ms. Bankly, please explain your dilemma to me.”


Part Three
Words changed/added: 801
(For the “silly addition” for this story, I chose “A book that can't stay still.”)

“Ahhh…” I sighed contentedly as I sat down in my armchair and set my feet down on the ottoman. It had been a long day of untangling lies, catching thieves, and continuing my fruitless search for the most dreaded criminal in town, Lira Luck. Lira was a devious, dangerously intelligent criminal, who changed up her appearance with guises and alternate personas so often that there was no official record of what she truly looked like. Nothing was safe from her, and she gave in to no one.
“Another good day, Violet. Yet still no sign of Ms. Luck.” I said thoughtfully to my bunny. “Where do you think she could have gone?”
“Squeak!” replied Violet.
I nodded. “A valiant point.”
I took out my worn, leather-bound journal from a hole in the armchair that was freely leaking stuffing, planning to make a note of what I’d accomplished today in my life as Margaret Beauregarde, an undercover, undiscovered, underage female detective. I opened the journal as normal, but then-
Whoosh! Suddenly, my notebook flew out of my hands. And when I say flew, I mean it quite literally: the pages of my notebook folded themselves into little wings and began flapping around the room.
“Hey- stop that, you fool!” I quickly lifted Violet, who was quite offended at the disruption, off of my lap. Standing up, I hopped around the room, smacking the air in an attempt to catch my notebook and looking for all the world like a cat trying to swat at a butterfly.
The book flew into the corner of the ceiling, well out of my reach. Thinking quickly, I grabbed a broom from my closet (granted, I never found much sense in tidying and hadn’t used it in a good few months), and swatted the book down.
“Aha, gotcha!” With a bit more drama than necessary, I jumped on the book, tackling it.
Holding it tightly against my chest, I wandered around the room in search of a rope or something similar that I could use to hold it down.
“Ding-dong!”
I jumped a bit in surprise at the sound of the doorbell, startling Violet.
“Drat! Drat, drat, drat!” I muttered under my breath. This was not the best time for visitors. Who could possibly be at the door, anyway? No one ever visited my tiny, second-floor apartment room- in fact, half the time I believed the landlady downstairs (the middle-aged Ms. Plum Twiddle, in case you cared to know) forgot that I even lived here or existed. Even myself, I dared to admit, had even forgotten the fact that I had a doorbell.
I paced around the room, frantically looking for somewhere to put the wriggling notebook.
“Ding-dong!”
Whoever was at the door sounded impatient. Panicked, I stuffed the notebook under the cushion of my armchair, and gently plopped Violet (who looked very confused at the goings-ons) on top of it in hopes of holding it in place.
Sweating slightly, I approached the door, calling, “Come in?”
.The door slowly opened, and a lady stepped in. She was very elegantly dressed, wearing a velvet red coat over her evening dress, and a fur draped around her shoulders. She had a tall, feathered hat upon her head and a worried expression on her face.
“Is this Miss Beauregarde?” she asked, squinting a little as she surveyed my messy living room, scattered with piles of paper and case notes, with a broom thrown haphazardly under the ottoman.
“Yes, ma’am, it is she. May I help you?” I asked, pulling up another chair and motioning to her to take a seat.
“I - I have an issue. Someone - I can’t seem to find someone.” The lady’s hands began to tremble as she spoke. “I heard that you’re a detective.”
“That I am.” I said with a small smile. How did this woman know about me?
“Come sit down ma’am, you look shaken.” I invited her as I took a seat myself, next to Violet. I tried to look as casual as possible, and not like I was attempting to stop the cushion from bouncing up and down (which is precisely what I was doing).
The lady sat down, chattering nervously.
“I’m in such trouble, I don’t know what to do… I’ve already spoken to many detectives and inspectors around the town, but their so-called skills have helped me none. But then I heard one man mention your name… and I thought maybe you could help me."
I stared at her, aghast. A man, a detective, knew about me? Margaret Beauregarde, the world’s top undercover underage female detective? On the inside I was wondering how on earth I was going to carry on a conversation with a posh lady whilst making a good impression without my flying journal interrupting and ruining my non-existent reputation; but on the outside, I attempted to portray a composed demeanor, smiling placidly.
“Of course I can help you. Tell me everything you know.”
It looked like the Margaret Beauregarde Detective Agency had its first client, at truly the worst time possible.

“I must make clear, before we begin, that I tolerate only the highest quality service. You do consider yourself a high-quality, no-nonsense business, do you not? I don’t wish for any disturbances while I explain my woes to you.”
“Rest assured, you are in the presence of the best possible detective agency to care for you, ma’am,” I replied, hoping the lady wouldn’t notice the fact that the notebook had managed to slide out from under the cushion and I was now holding a wriggling lump under my skirt.
I pulled out a different notebook from the pocket of my skirt, one that I hardly ever used since I didn’t approve of the cover art, hovered my fountain pen over the page and looked across the room, staring directly into the lady’s eyes.
I attempted to maneuver the flapping journal under my tush to hold it still, pretending to be adjusting my skirt. Being as subtle as I could, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. This was my first client, and I was determined not to mess up this interview.
“Ma’am, if you would like me to work with you, I need to know the full details of absolutely everything. Is that clear?”
“Y-yes, I suppose, of course.” She stuttered.
“Very well then,” I replied, “Name?”
“Ms. Beatrix Bankly.”
“Occupation?”
“I- I don’t have an occupation, I’m a lady of society.”
I glanced at her with disdain, but continued taking notes.
“Age?”
“Really, it’s quite unladylike to reveal one’s-”
“Ma’am. If you want me to unravel your woes, I need to know everything that you know. Let’s try this again: age?”
“Forty-one,” Ms. Bankly mumbled.
“Squeak!” Interjected Violet.
I smiled down at her. “Quite right Violet, you are three years old. Well done keeping track of time!”
Ms. Bankly cleared her throat more loudly than necessary. I got the feeling she did not fully appreciate the complexity of a rabbit’s mind. Perhaps we should continue.
“Current relationship status?”
“I am unmarried, if you must know.”
“Squeak!”
“Violet dear, please lower your voice. I must continue my interview,” I whispered. Clearing my throat, I resumed my questioning. “Address?”
“Thirty-one Plum Street.”
“Squeak!”
“Violet! Listen to your mistress, please!” I scolded, embarrassed.
“Squeak! Squeak! Squeak!”
Suddenly I realized that Violet was trying to point something out to me, something important: the journal had escaped from under my petticoat without me noticing, and was quietly flying around the room again.
And Ms. Bankly had finally noticed it.
Hopping up on the chair, attempting to grab it with my arms and valiantly ignoring the paper cuts I was receiving as the sharp wings brushed against my arm, I tried my best to save the situation.
“Just- just wait there a minute, ma’am, I promise I’ll return to your interview in just a minute- just a temporary interruption-”
“High-quality? No-nonsense? Best possible care?!” Ms. Bankly shrieked. “This is utter chaos!” And with that, she gathered her fur to herself and stormed out of the room, closing the door behind her- but evidently she didn’t close it quickly enough, for my notebook followed her as if it was its deepest desire to give her a few paper cuts. I heard a few high-pitched shrieks as the unfortunate woman tried to escape the book’s wrath, then a few bumps as she tumbled down the stairs.

I stood there at the door, trying to process what had just happened.
“Well. That didn’t go exactly as planned, did it, Violet?”
“Squeak!”

Thank you to @Coding_Captain_UG for being my partner for this weekly! It was a pleasure to work together

“Whew…okay, deep breath,” I paused, inhaling, “I've got this,” I whispered under my breath as the crowd bustled just outside that door.

“You okay, Elise?” a voice from behind me asked gently.

I tucked a strand of my black hair behind my ear and turned to look up at my brother. Even though he was younger than me, he had inherited the height of our father.

I chuckled softly, heat creeping up my cheeks, “Yeah! Yeah…I'm fine! Why, uh wouldn't I be?”

He folded his arms over his chest, looking at me expectantly. How did he always manage to do that?!

“Fine. If you have to know,” I sighed, “I'm freaking out,” I admitted, touching the necklace that hung around my neck.

He took a step closer, his grey eyes full of brotherly concern.

“Hey. I know that once you step outside that door? You won't be a princess anymore. You'll be our Queen,” he paused, smiling, “but I also know that you'll be amazing at it.”

“Really?” I asked, my eyes lighting up.

He nodded, his dark hair falling into his eyes.

“Really.”

I let my hands fall at my sides and nodded my head as I looked at the door.

“Yeah…yeah, I can do this.”

I grinned, lifting my head to meet his gaze, “Thanks, Valdemar.”

His lips quirked into a smile, causing a dimple in his left cheek, and that made me smile back. With that, I picked up my heavy skirts and opened the door. My guards followed me inside, a couple of paces behind me.

A hush fell over the crowd as I made my way up the aisle through the church, and a stir of nerves swirled within me. The whole room smelled like it had been transformed into a garden. Draping flower arrangements of blue and white had been laid over the pews along the aisles. I glanced at the congregation, putting on a polite smile, thinking, ‘Get used to being in the spotlight.’ Determination settled onto my features, and my breath slowed to meet my steps. My gaze drifted to the crown which sat on a pedestal by the front of the church. As the oldest, I had mentally prepared to take the throne for years, and as I took a deep breath, I began to feel excited. I would have the ability to lead my people into a bright-

My thoughts vanished as a thick, noxious smell filled my lungs. Smoke? I turned, eyes widening. Thick waves of smoke caught my attention, and my eyes widened as flames erupted to my right and started licking the walls. I bent down, picking up my skirts, trying to run.

“Fire!” someone yelled.

The congregation mingled and blended all around me as they rushed for the doors. I ducked as a piece of the ceiling cracked and rushed downwards, and I dove out of the way. I coughed and held up my handkerchief to cover my mouth as my eyes started to well up from the sting of smoke. I couldn't tell which way I was going or if I was alone, and my heart drummed in my ears as I felt my lungs heave to get oxygen. Glass shattered in the window beside me, and I covered my head as sharp pieces cascaded down on me. A figure jumped in, feet crunching in the glass, and I gasped as a hand grabbed my arm and pinned it behind my back painfully.

“You…” A girl about my own age spat into my ear, her blade pressed dangerously to my throat, “Get to your feet.”

My breathing was shaky as I pulled myself up, my black hair falling over my shoulders in waves. She grabbed my arms and binded them in front of me with ropes.

Out of the corner of my eye, I looked at her, my eyes full of anger, “What do you want with me?”

She smirked and lowered her blade before stuffing a gag into my mouth, her green eyes reflecting the fire's light.

“Princess!” yelled a breathless voice somewhere in the smoke, and it was followed by the sound of swords clanging.

Two shadows emerged from the smoke, their swords slicing at each other with the skill of years of training. I could make out one cloaked figure, his movements swift and brutal as he gained momentum on his opponent.

The cloaked figure cornered his opponent against the wall, and I could see the glint of royal guard's armor from behind the oppressor's back. My eyes widened in recognition of who the royal guard was…Jerimiah. He had been like a father to me since my father passed. My mind flashed to his voice as we discussed plans for our country's future, my future as we stood before a gigantic map of our land and borders. He understood war and politics, grace and compassion. His balanced advice had been sounder than any of my advisors. Jeremiah grunted, and my gaze whipped to him, breaking out of my memories. He struggled from where he was pinned and spun out of the grasp, ready to fight, but the cloaked swordsman was younger…more skilled. My eyes widened in horror as the figure drove his blade through, and Jeremiah's body slid to the floor, lifeless. I shut my eyes, trying to block out the image.

“Look,” commanded the girl, her deep brown hair, framing her face as she pushed her blade into my skin.

Lifting my eyes, I saw the cloaked figure approaching me, sword dripping with blood from where he carried it at his side, and I pulled back, panicking. ‘He’s going to kill me,' my mind raced. He brought his face right up to mine, his hood hiding his face in shadow. My breath hitched in suspense, searching his face for anything. The figure dropped his hood. My eyes darted over his face. Back hair that went to his neck, and small, sharp, brown eyes, and fresh stitches across his cheek. Quickly, he turned away. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, fear overwhelming me. ‘Who was he?’

“So this is her…” he said, glancing behind me at my captor, ignoring that I was present.

“Yes, my King,” said the girl respectfully, not meeting his gaze.

He nodded and gripped my wrists tightly, dragging me behind him outside. I tried to wrench myself free, kicking under my dress and struggling, but his grasp tightened, and I winced.

“People of Novinia…,” he shouted, pushing me in front of him.

I fell to a heap on my knees, my dress caught all around me.

“This is not your rightful ruler,” he paused, “I am, by right. I was born of Arelius the Third, the brother of your deceased King. By law as the oldest of the royal bloodline, I am to be your King.”

Fernweh
Aspens JWC Writing Competition Entry


There is a place, far away, a wonderfully quiet place. The streets are filled with small quaint shops and gnarled trees and wide green parks. The sea breeze whistles through the empty streets while lone figures hurry home or to some unknown destination. If you follow the sound of laughter you may find a sandy path winding through the desert grass. Following that twisting path you hear the waves lapping at the shore and you smell the salty spray. When, finally, you come out you’ll find the people of that town. Clustered in small groups hanging round the playground or solitary benches, they look out at the waves and watch the men and women flying through the air, performing incredible feats with the kites strapped to their backs. Oh, how I miss that place, that town. Its people, its ocean, its salty air–everything! What I would do to go back.


Notes: 150 words


Fernweh means “farsickness” or a “longing for far-off places”

Willow was looking around the forest, when she suddenly heard a branch snap. She turned around quickly and looked around to see if anybody was there, it sounded suspicious as the forest was known to have horrible monsters that could be watching your every move. But Willow didn't care, she was here for one reason. To find her brother, it was told that her brother had ventured far into the forest to hide from everyone else. But why did he do that? Willow had been wondering about that for a while but still kept it to herself. Her parents were worried sick but didn't believe that Willow's little brother would've came into the forest just to hide from everyone. What had happened? What made her brother so strange and so suspicious? It seemed like he was hiding something… but Willow was only assuming. It couldn't have been correct… what was going on? The more Willow thought, the more scary the forest had become. That sound of the branch snapping had gotten Willow back to her senses. But she knew that maybe she could expect the worst to what happened to her brother. Maybe her brother wasn't hiding, perhaps he had already encountered one of the scary monsters there. Willow shivered and kept looking, she turned on her phone flashlight to help her see in the dark. Maybe it didn't help… well it did help a little. But Willow still felt like somebody was following her, she turned around quickly again. Shining the flashlight in the trees. Nobody was there, not even a peep, not even a shadow. She kept going forward to try to find the stalker that kept following her, however nobody was there. It was like the branch snap was just all a hallucination and it wasn't even real. Willow couldn't ignore it though, she had this strange feeling that maybe she wouldn't make it out of this forest. There was no way she could do that, never in her life. If she didn't make it out of this forest, it would make her parents more worried. Leaving more problems for them to deal with, and it pained Willow to think about what it would be like if her parents lost both their children. A total nightmare…

379 words

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Daily #27 - Researching

Words: 267
Points: 200
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One of my weak points in writing is that I never plot any of my story out. While that's not necessarily a bad thing, for me personally the problem is that because of this I never end up finishing any of my stories. I usually start with having a vague idea, start writing, get really excited, keep writing, then suddenly come to a sudden stop when I realize I have no idea how the plot will reach the climax or come to a conclusion.
So that's what I chose to research! I read through these articles:
https://gatekeeperpress.com/how-to-finish-a-novel/
https://www.entrepreneur.com/leadership/how-to-write-a-book-and-actually-finish-it-in-5-steps/340267

The first article talked about ways to combat the process of finishing your story, and this was one of the tips it mentioned:
“Write without fear. Too often authors get all tangled up with editing. Instead of attempting to edit your work as you go, hold off until the first draft is in the can. It might be hard to resist fixing those typos, but force yourself to just ignore the urge to edit and get that book written. There will be plenty of time to clean it up later.”
I'm the kind of person that likes to fix every little detail as they go and doesn't do a lot of editing or revising, and this made me think that maybe I should try a different approach next time I try to write a longer story.

The second article mentioned a technique that I hadn't thought of, but could maybe be useful in the future: If you're one of those people who really doesn't like to plan out the entire plot, or feel like you need to see the beginning of your story before you can think about the end (*ehem* me), then one thing you could do is to just map out the general theme or vibe of your book. Even if you're not going to plan out the entire story, having just something to work with could make the storyline flow more easily.
Here's the excerpt from that article that I found helpful:
“What is the driving force behind your book? This could be anything — a theme, a storyline, an idea. This thing will act like a seed, from which the rest of your book will grow, or a spine to give it its shape.”

Writing Comp. Entry: (1624 words)
Perfect Little Memories

In the back of my closet, on the right side underneath some old clothes that I don’t wear anymore but are too pretty to give away, there is a chest. It looks like a treasure chest and my grandmother gave it to me on my sixth birthday. She’d filled it to the brim with chocolate coins, candy jewelry, and sugar diamonds, and there was also the occasional quarter and dime. It took me two years to eat everything in that box (and I think there’s still some left in the very bottom). Now I use the box for a different kind of treasure: memories.
Inside there’s a collection of different objects, each connected to a different memory.
There’s a pressed flower from a magical camping trip I’d never forget: It had been a misty morning, and my father and I had gotten up early and walked outside the cabin and down a trail you could barely see, toward a tree about fifty feet downhill from the cabin that was perfect for climbing. We got about halfway when we saw the first deer in the clearing at the bottom of the hill. We stopped walking and watched as more emerged from the trees, fawns, does, and even a few young bucks. And they just kept coming, walking peacefully through the clearing. I grabbed my father’s hand and gave it a squeeze, watching silently as the herd passed through the clearing. All too soon, they were gone.
There’s a ‘US Junior Officer’ sticker I got at the airport. When I was younger I got one every time I went through security and I’d put them on my suitcase, proudly displaying them. This time at the airport, I got it and we were almost late for the plane so I stuck it in my backpack and we hurried to the gate. I forgot about the sticker and ten minutes later we boarded the plane. As we stepped on, my dad and I said hello to the flight attendants and the pilots–who offered to let me start the plane. Of course, I said yes. A few buttons later the engine started and we went to take our seats.
There’s a bit of lumpy homemade paper that we made with friends who drove four hours to see us. It was a cloudy day and they had brought an inflatable rainbow that sprayed water. We ran through it for a while, until we got cold. Then we started flying paper airplanes underneath the rainbow until we had a puddle of soggy paper. Then we ripped the paper up, put it on a screen, and waited for it to dry. The friends had to leave before the paper was ready, so we’re saving it until they come back.
There’s a special navy coin I got in Boston aboard the USS Constitution. We were walking around Boston, and we met up with one of my parent’s friends along the Freedom Trail. Everyone wanted to go to the Constitution so we did, and when we got on board we split up because everyone had a different interest. I was climbing down a ladder when I saw a large group of people in camouflage uniforms getting a tour. I was curious, so I followed them. And started asking questions. They liked me, treating me as an honorary part of their group. When we reached the roped-off area, the group I was following, since they were navy trainees, was getting to go back there and into the hull. I asked if I could come along with them, and they told me I could if my parents were okay with it. My parents were following me at a distance to make sure I didn’t get into trouble, and hearing their answer said yes. So my whole family got to go into the hull of the USS Constitution. After another ladder, there’s a room full of flags and harnesses for climbing the masts, which the guide announced the trainees would get to do the next day. (I was invited but we were leaving that day so I couldn’t) after the flag room, there’s the hull itself: curved and red, with flat places to stand on with black sandpaper on them to prevent slipping. After our brief tour of the off-limits area, We headed back up to the deck. I was the last one up and when I got to the top, a navy man had a surprise for me–a large coin in a plastic protector case. He told me that the coin is special–only people in the navy have one. And now I do, too.
There’s a green cast from the time I broke my middle finger’s proximal phalanges (AKA the knuckle closest to you). I was doing a half-flip off of the swing: laying on my back on the swing seat and flipping out of the position to land on my feet. If you do it when the swing is in the right place, you’re fine. But in the wrong place, you hurt yourself. And that’s what I did. I flipped off, under-rotated, and hit the first two fingers on my right hand on the ground. And I broke one of those fingers. I kept my cast free of any doodles and signatures until less than a week before I got it off. Then I drew on it. Paw prints, lightning bolts, a few flowers, and a whole lot of other random stuff. I also took nail polish and made two ‘bracelets’ by painting the nail polish all the way around my wrist.
There’s a napkin from when we were staying on my uncle’s houseboat and my cousin and I woke up early and went on a walk in our pajamas to get donuts from a shop that wasn’t far from where the boat was docked. The line was pretty long for that early in the morning, but the donuts were well worth the wait.
There’s a pretty rock from when we went to Arizona. We stayed at a hotel and I woke up early every morning. The temperature ranged from warm to hot during our entire stay, but the well-air-conditioned hotel room was always cold–especially in the morning. I got to stay up late in the pool with some new friends, went to two banquet dinners, performed on stage at the second dinner, and had delicious food (my favorite was the buttermilk pancakes). Every night rainbow light strips on the balcony put on a show for anyone who looked up, which meant if you were trying to sleep you had to close the blackout curtains and put up with the rainbow light that slipped through the cracks. We were on the ninth floor with a view of a large pond that had fish so big in it you could see them from our balcony!
There’s a black handheld camera that I dropped out of a tree by accident when it was filming (which made for an interesting video). It still works well, but the focus is a little off and the colors aren’t as vivid as they used to be. The reason I don’t use it is because the battery drains faster than water down a drain, making it really hard to take on trips because I have to charge it every half an hour or less.
There’s a shell from Rhode Island that I brought home last fall. We stayed for a week, got ice cream almost every day, and also went to a beach almost every day. We body-surfed, boogie-boarded, and swam for hours, and on one beach that barely had ripples of waves (it was in a bay) we skipped rocks. We took the ferry to Block Island and walked around there, met up with my uncle who had taken his boat out to Block Island, went to the Block Island beach, and even got on the ferry on time (after stopping for Dell’s). We stayed at my cousin’s house, and they have a lot of land, a swing, and a trampoline, and in the basement, they have exercise machines, a crafting room, and a Wii gaming console. Having no video games at home, I spent a lot of time playing theirs when I had the chance… and I got pretty good at it, too! When we went over to my uncle’s house I played their Wii and my uncle was impressed with my skill… and even more impressed when I told him I had no Wii at home! I painted a sunset scene based on a picture we’d taken at the beach a few days prior with my cousin. Mine looked decent and hers looked like it belonged in a Monet or van Gough exhibit. Unsurprisingly, she’s pursuing a career in art.
There are tickets from my birthday when my best friend and I went to an amusement park. We went on a lot of different rides and even got on one just as it opened for the season; the only time you can get on it without a three-hour wait. After a day at the amusement park, we got Dippin’ Dots and went home to my favorite dinner and a few presents. Then my bestie and I went up to my room and I drew a (bad) drawing in her ProCreate… and probably having way too much fun in the process.
I’m sure more objects will find their way into the chest as more time passes and more memories are made. I’m sure there are more objects at the bottom that I have forgotten about. But that’s what the chest is for. Collecting memories so I’ll never forget them. Lots and lots of memories. My perfect little memories.
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Note:
This was actually really fun to write. There are probably a lot of errors and things could've probably tied together better, but it's a story (or a lot of stories inside a story). Almost every memory in this is real. There are some made-up facts and a few changes to make reading easier, but the only fake part is that I don't have/probably never will get a candy-filled chest for my birthday. And I don't have a chest or any sort of container to hold memories. I also don't have most of the items that represent the memories, I just chose something to represent each as I went.
I'll probably revise this story later, but this is the version I'm entering into the competition.
Good luck to everyone!
~Mouse

Something I have trouble with in my writing is definitely plot twists. I make it extremely random so I think the information I learned will severely help me! I think having difficulty writing plot twists is why my stories sound strange! So I searched up how to get a good plot twist and here is what I found:
https://jerichowriters.com/how-to-write-a-compelling-plot-twist-a-complete-guide/
* basically says you should foreshadow it, which I definitely ned to work on. It needs to make sense, because I sometimes make the most obscure plot twists and they just don;t sound good. I mean, this also goes with foreshadowing, because I need to give some information so readers of my story can guess the plot twists. That's the fun in reading, right? I always read books that have good and predictable (but not too predictable, it's got to be in the middle, which is the hardest part for me.)
I also learned that it can go two different ways, like a plot twist in a plot twist. It gave me many examples of plot twists and even though some are cliche, they still are amazing!

Weekly #4 Pt. 2 1/27/23
word count: 848
points: 500

critique I recieved <3 : Critique by @TheBibliophile7 (thank you!)

The sun shimmered and glinted gold, lighting up everywhere its rays danced upon. The rays glided across my sight. From the sickening sweet crimson flowers to each individual blade of grass, they taunted me. Long before this dreaded day, I knew what would happen, the consequences, yet I persevered attempting to escape my destiny. The sky knew it and I knew it there would be no escaping your destiny. So there I stood silent in the field, the tips of the grass digging into my bare feet and ankles, I tried to absorb as much as I could, remembering the feeling of being myself. I closed my eyes, obscuring the taunting smirk of Mother Nature. My fingers flitted across the ground, the flowers reviving and the grass growing taller, a bit of harmless magic, I didn’t care anymore they were coming to get me sooner or later I should at least use my powers once. Slumping to the ground, I fell into my memories that I’ve fought to keep but they would all be taken today. My favorite memories were of my mother, the days before they took her. She could easily pass for a goddess, with her pearly white smile, glossy brown coils, and rich olive skin, her warm chestnut eyes, so comforting, she was my mother. Her clothes were flowy dresses that made her look ethereal. She moved with the gracefulness of a giselle and the confidence of a tiger. On a good day, mom would sit me down at her old upright piano, right in her lap and together we would sing, and she would play. Oh, the melodies that she produced were so magnificent. Her voice outshined me always, her voice was like an angel’s, even the birds would stop to listen. Yet, although I wasn’t a good singer my mother told me that I was her little mockingbird, able to accurately copy her actions and singing most of all, after just showing me it once. After singing a chorus of several songs my mom would always pull me close, in a warm and tight embrace that told me that I would always be safe in her arms. I’ve never sang again since she was taken nor ever felt safe. I spend my days after she was taken to now always running, never stopping, abiding by my mother’s last words to me, in a strangled scream as she was dragged away, Run Sara, run! The government agents in their ominous black suits dragged her away with the imprints of her legs dragging against the ground imprinted on the Earth. I’d wasted my hours only to find out she had passed away days after the government told her she wasn’t even considered for the program… she was a defect.
I’m sorry Mom, I’m tired of running, we both know it, you knew it and I did, they were going to catch up to me one day, I can’t outrun my destiny. Today, I’ve given up, decided to stop running and to just accept it. Although my mother wanted the best for me, to stay safe, I was done listening to her last words. Her words have deprived me of being capable of ever enjoying life again, maybe taking the identity of some human wouldn’t be as bad as I would think. I would be able to forget my troubles and live worry free as… a human. I feel the shadows creep upon me now, latching onto my skin and freezing me down to my bones. A fog of emptiness sneaks its way into my brain. The happy golden memories of my mother, every hug, every smile, every song drain away like someone pulled the plug on my memories, I try to remember every detail, I try to take back my memories, when that fails, I resolute to just remember who I am, or who I was in a matter of minutes. My brain started getting tired, everything was draining away quicker and quicker I was left with no choice but to accept it, this was going to be my life now. It was time to say goodbye to Sara Nurongie, this was what they wanted, to strip me of my identity, they dare to recalibrate me as some sick human being. My mom and I were perfectly harmless to the humans, just different, but we abided by the law and refrained from using our ‘dangerous extraterrestrial powers’ as instructed by the government of Earth. Yet, even though we caused no harm, the government wanted to strip us of our happiness, they had to take that all away from me. I choked out what seemed to be a mix between a dry laugh and a cry, the memories each shattering and leaving my mind till it slowly formed into a dark void ready to be filled, recalibrated, with new memories of a human I would take the place of. My mind dimmed around the edges and I accepted my destiny…Goodbye Sara Nurongie, goodbye… then they dragged me away, my body limp in their ice cold grasp.

Weekly #4 Pt. 3 1/28/23
word count: 932
points: 600

addition I chose: A platypus that sings.

The sun shimmered and glinted gold, lighting up everywhere its rays danced upon. The rays glided across my sight. From the sickening sweet crimson flowers to each individual blade of grass, they taunted me. Long before this dreaded day, I knew what would happen, the consequences, yet I persevered attempting to escape my destiny. The sky knew it and I knew it there would be no escaping your destiny. So there I stood silent in the field, the tips of the grass digging into my bare feet and ankles, I tried to absorb as much as I could, remembering the feeling of being myself. I closed my eyes, obscuring the taunting smirk of Mother Nature. My fingers flitted across the ground, the flowers reviving and the grass growing taller, a bit of harmless magic, I didn’t care anymore they were coming to get me sooner or later I should at least use my powers once. Slumping to the ground, I fell into my memories that I’ve fought to keep but they would all be taken today. My favorite memories were of my mother, the days before they took her. She could easily pass for a goddess, with her pearly white smile, glossy brown coils, and rich olive skin, her warm chestnut eyes, so comforting, she was my mother. Her clothes were flowy dresses that made her look ethereal. She moved with the gracefulness of a giselle and the confidence of a tiger. On a good day, mom would sit me down at her old upright piano, right in her lap and together we would sing, and she would play, Waddles, our platypus would sing along. Waddles was a special platypus that was rescued by us in the small river parallel to our home. He loved to waddle around and quack annoying songs, hence his name. He was able to quack the melody of any song my mother and I sang. Oh, the melodies that Mother produced were so magnificent. Her voice outshined me always, her voice was like an angel’s, even the birds would stop to listen. Yet, although I wasn’t a good singer my mother told me that I was her little mockingbird, able to accurately copy her actions and singing most of all, after just showing me it once. After singing a chorus of several songs my mom would always pull me close, in a warm and tight embrace that told me that I would always be safe in her arms. I’ve never sang again since she was taken nor ever felt safe. I spend my days after she was taken to now always running, never stopping, abiding by my mother’s last words to me, in a strangled scream as she was dragged away, Run Sara, run! The government agents in their ominous black suits dragged her away with the imprints of her legs dragging against the ground imprinted on the Earth. Waddles stood in the doorway, frantic, confused, I didn’t want to leave him behind but I needed to, I hope he understood. I’d wasted my hours only to find out she had passed away days after the government told her she wasn’t even considered for the program… she was a defect.
I’m sorry Mom, I’m tired of running, we both know it, you knew it and I did, they were going to catch up to me one day, I can’t outrun my destiny. Today, I’ve given up, decided to stop running and to just accept it. Although my mother wanted the best for me, to stay safe, I was done listening to her last words. Her words have deprived me of being capable of ever enjoying life again, maybe taking the identity of some human wouldn’t be as bad as I would think. I would be able to forget my troubles and live worry free as… a human. The footsteps of those dreaded government agents crunched against the ground. I feel the shadows creep upon me now, latching onto my skin and freezing me down to my bones. A fog of emptiness sneaks its way into my brain. The happy golden memories of my mother, every hug, every smile, every song drain away like someone pulled the plug on my memories, I try to remember every detail, I try to take back my memories, when that fails, I resolute to just remember who I am, or who I was in a matter of minutes. My brain started getting tired, everything was draining away quicker and quicker I was left with no choice but to accept it, this was going to be my life now. It was time to say goodbye to Sara Nurongie, this was what they wanted, to strip me of my identity, they dare to recalibrate me as some sick human being. My mom and I were perfectly harmless to the humans, just different, but we abided by the law and refrained from using our ‘dangerous extraterrestrial powers’ as instructed by the government of Earth. Yet, even though we caused no harm, the government wanted to strip us of our happiness, they had to take that all away from me. I choked out what seemed to be a mix between a dry laugh and a cry, the memories each shattering and leaving my mind till it slowly formed into a dark void ready to be filled, recalibrated, with new memories of a human I would take the place of. My mind dimmed around the edges and I accepted my destiny…Goodbye Sara Nurongie, goodbye… then they dragged me away, my body limp in their ice cold grasp.

(can't delete TvT)

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Daily #28 - My Oldest Story: Re-Written

Words: 828
Points: 450

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I found this “story” on a pink Hello Kitty sheet of paper from a notebook; I'm not sure when it was written, but I believe I was around 8 or 9 years old. Obviously this wasn't the first thing I'd written, but this was the oldest piece of creative writing I could find; I think I was attempting Magic Treehouse-inspired sci-fi xD The original is only about 100 words long, so I needed to do quite a bit of expanding with this.

Ten-year-old Natalie Dearly was laying on her stomach on the grass in her backyard, picking at a blade of grass and feeling very bored. She was a small, slender girl with tanned skin, a small, freckled face wearing a determined expression, and long brown hair that ran in two long braids down her back.
She kicked her feet back and forth angrily, fuming over the conversation she’d just had.
It was currently evening, and she was trying to come up with a way to pass the time until dinner was prepared and she could go set the table. She had gone inside and asked her mother if she could walk around the neighborhood by herself, but her mother had told her that she was “too young” to walk alone and had to wait until her parents or her brother could go with her.
Natalie was a very independent girl, who, at the age of three, had told her parents that she planned to become a politician. She did not like being told what to do, or being called a “little girl”, and she felt quite offended that her brother Benjamin, who was less than three years older, could walk around the neighborhood whenever he liked. He was taking a walk right now, along with his friend Sam (who was also their next-door neighbor), and Natalie was impatiently awaiting his return.
She tried to pick up her graphic novel and read; it was her favorite book, about a spaceship that appeared in a young girl’s yard and flew her away to a magical planet. It was so captivating that she could almost hear the whooshing of the spaceship and see the twinkling stars…
BANG!
Natalie sat up abruptly, startled by a loud, metallic, thumping sound. It had seemingly come from the vacant construction site, down the road. She gasped.
“The spaceship!” she said out loud. “It’s landed in my own neighborhood!” She excitedly ran into the front yard, looking for her brother. “Bennjiii!!” She called.

Benjamin was right next door, saying goodbye to Sam. His head swiveled in the direction of his sister’s voice. “Coming!” He called to her.
Natalie impatiently danced up and down. Eventually Sam went inside, and Benjamin walked back over to his yard. Natalie ran over to meet him at the end of the driveway. “Willyouwalkwithmeoverthere?IthinkIheardsomething!” she babbled.
“Woah, slow down.” Benjamin chuckled.
“I heard a strange sound over there,” Natalie pointed, “And I want to go check it out but you have to walk with me.”
Benjamin sighed. “Why do I have to walk with you? I just got back!”
“Don’t ask me, ask our mom and dad,” replied Natalie, crossing her arms. “I was going to go on a walk by myself earlier, but I guess I’m STILL not old enough.”
Benjamin sighed again. “Fine. But why do you care about a random sound? We live near a construction site, we hear strange sounds all the time!”
“Because,” said Natalie, confidently, “It was a spaceship.”
“A spaceship? Really Nat?”
“I swear it was! It sounded just how my book explained the sound of a spaceship landing. Please, can we go investigate?” Natalie started walking in the direction she’d pointed to.
Benjamin rolled his eyes, but started walking with her. “Nat, we are not going to see a spaceship when we get over there….”

The two siblings walked in silence for a few minutes, Natalie skipping excitedly and Benjamin walking slowly.
The construction lot came into view. But it didn’t look quite right. There was something enormous and shiny sitting in the middle of it…
“The spaceship!! Benji, look! It’s right there!” squealed Natalie.
Benjamin’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “There actually is! Or at least something that sort of looks like a spaceship…”
“Told ya!” Natalie laughed, running the last couple of yards eagerly with her brother at her heels.
Getting closer, the two now had a better view of whatever it was they were looking at.
“I’m not so sure that’s a spaceship,” Benjamin panted.
“If it’s a spaceship, it definitely doesn’t look like the one in my book,” Natalie agreed, out of breath.

The two came to a halt in front of this strange phenomenon. The “spaceship” was a shiny metal pyramid the size of a small house, covered in what appeared to be oddly shaped, twinkling stars. The metal exterior was covered in strange, mysterious designs that appeared to be maps of unfamiliar places.
Natalie timidly approached it, running her finger along the side.
“Don’t touch it! It could be dangerous!” Benjamin reprimanded his sister as he walked around it, examining it from all sides. The back side had what looked like a handwritten sign pasted on it. “Wh- Um, Natalie?”
“Yeah?”
“Come take a look at this…”
Natalie ran over, and Benjamin pointed to the sign silently.

The writing on it read, “This time machine belongs to those who find it. Use it wisely, and enjoy the adventure. - A Watcher”

Weekly #4
PART ONE:
Critique for @Pinkmouse773, https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/6869190/

Wow, I first read through this, and was instantly captivated! I love your writing style; the strategic repetition of certain phrases adds emphasis to different parts and helps keep it interesting. Your descriptions are so vivid, and the picture you painted of the mother was really clear! Your usage of figurative language was great as well.

My first suggestion would be to use some varied vocabulary in certain parts. For example, at the beginning (first two sentences) you say “… its rays danced upon. The rays danced…” And then a bit later, you said “ … to escape my destiny… no escaping your destiny.” I would just double check that you’re changing some of these phrases to help it flow better. It could even be an adjustment from “rays danced upon” to “streams of light touched”, or something along those lines.

Another suggestion is to perhaps clarify who “they” is? You mention them several times; in the last sentence for example, you said, “ then they dragged me away, my body limp in their ice cold grasp” (which, I personally love the description here <3), however you never reveal who its actually referring to. I do understand this could be a stylistic choice, preferring to keep this part a mystery to the reader, though it might make more sense if you add who or what you mean? This, of course, depends on your intended purpose here.

My final note is to just make sure that your storyline is cohesive. Your concept is amazing, however the “dangerous extraterrestrial powers” come as a bit of a shock right at the end, so perhaps find a way to incorporate this earlier in the story? Even if you don’t outright mention that she has powers, just hinting at it could make the revelation a bit less surprising.

Overall, this is really good! Your style is beautiful, and this story concept is so creative! All of the details really shine light on the moods of the story; wonderfully done!!


PART TWO:
The forest is eerily silent, as if the trees are all holding their breath.
I look around, entranced by something I can’t understand. A longing deep in the pit of my stomach tugs me forward, but I resist, taking in the scenery.
Color erupts around me. Leaves of all shades of green swarm me; emeralds and limes and jades and olives fill my vision. Trees blanket the soil in their reddish brown trunks and their spindly limbs seem to reach out towards me. Reaching for a hug. It seems to be a tunnel; the branches close the space above me, making the blue of the sky nearly invisible. Sweat coats my skin in a transparent film from the humid air, plastering my hair to my neck. Vines dangle like snakes from every surface and flowers cram together in the shafts of light that manage to wiggle through the dense trees. Darkness and light mix in this forest, in a combination so delicate the air seems to be a painting made with only the two colors, combined in ways only the forest understands.
The only thing: I can’t hear any of it.
It is as if the world has turned off, a switch flipped from the bustling city to these silent woods, so unnerving I want to scream until I can hear myself again.
I allow the tugging to draw me further into the woods. The trees are so close together on the sides of the path, they seem to block it in a wall entirely. My toe jams into a root, and I stumble, nearly tumbling into the dirt. The fall sends my heart pounding and I close my eyes briefly to calm it. I listen for anything, any sound to ease my trembling fingers. Nothing.
Is it me? Have I gone deaf? Are my ears plugged?
Or is it the forest?
I look back, worry now knotting my stomach into a web.
I gasp, but I can’t hear the sound. The trees have grown up behind me, blocking escape. The forest around me all looks the same, with the tall trees rising up above me and covering any path except the one forward. My only sense of direction is the tugging dragging me forward.
The branches seem closer now, but rather than a hug, they seem to be reaching to grab me, to pull me into their wooded world.
My breath comes in short wheezes as panic sets in.
I wrap my arms around myself, squeezing tightly until my fingers are splaying across my back. My feet seem to move of their own accord, taking steps toward wherever the longing is leading me.
Longing. Am I longing for it, or is it longing for me?
I try to stop but am overcome with desire. Desire to find whatever I’m being pulled to.
Or does it desire me?
I squeeze my eyes shut, but my legs keep going. The tugging is guiding them without my permission.
It intensifies, swelling inside of me until it’s all encompassing. I can’t feel anything except longing and desire. The panic is gone, replaced with a need to find what at the end of the path.
My pace quickens, and soon I’m running, sprinting down the winding road, past trees and brush and brambles toward the unknown calling. My arms flounder at my sides, catching all sorts of scrapes from the branches and vines.
Finally, I skid to a stop. The longing vanishes, and my mind is clear again.
I suck in a breath of musty air. Then another, before I truly see what’s in front of me.
The darkness blankets heavy here, the sun entirely blocked by the branches overhead. They’re weaved together as if someone knitted them into a solid roof over the clearing. A breeze tickles my arms and legs and I shudder. It’s not a cool, relaxing breeze. It felt like darkness, cold and bitter. The only light comes from dim shafts in the trees surrounding the glade.
And the pearl white tomb in the middle.
I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle a shriek.
Its rectangular surface was carved of white stone, stained with splotches of green and brown from the dirt and leaves. Roots and grasses curled up around the base like gnarled fingers grasping the tomb. Something was etched in the top- a name, though I was too far away to see it.
I didn’t want to get closer.
A ring of black grass surrounded it, completely charred from something. A perfect circle of deadness. It’s unnerving, unusual. Something about it radiates darkness and evil. I don’t dare step closer, but the trees seem to be pressing towards me. I take a step forward, glance back, and they’re right up against me again. I draw in a sharp breath, and start coughing, but I can’t hear any sound.
Panic and fear make me cry out, wishing someone, anyone, anything could hear me. But even I can't hear myself. Can anyone else hear me?
A leaf brushes my ankle and I take another scrambled step forward, yelping. I squeeze my eyes shut.
Darkness is the only company I have behind my closed eyelids.
They flutter open again and my gaze darts around the space, now completely encircled with thick branches. I look back at the tomb.
Something shifts inside me.
What’s in the circle? Why am I afraid of it? There’s no need to fear! Darkness can be comforting, right?
I shake my head, trying to clear the fog, but it takes hold of me.
No need to fear.
Just step.
In a trance, my foot raises, poised above the black grass.
Time slows while the silence stretches on.
Darkness clouds my mind.
No need to fear.
Just take the step.
My subconscious fights back, but it’s powerless against this booming voice.
My eyes close and then reopen.
My foot touches the grass.
And darkness swallows me whole.

PART THREE:
The forest is eerily silent, as if the trees are all holding their breath.
I look around, entranced by something I can’t understand. A longing deep in the pit of my stomach tugs me forward, but I resist, taking in the scenery.
Color erupts around me. Leaves of all shades of green swarm me; emeralds and limes and jades and olives fill my vision. Trees blanket the soil in their reddish brown trunks and their spindly limbs seem to reach out towards me. Reaching for a hug. It seems to be a tunnel; the branches close the space above me, making the blue of the sky nearly invisible. Sweat coats my skin in a transparent film from the humid air, plastering my hair to my neck. Vines dangle like snakes from every surface and flowers cram together in the shafts of light that manage to wiggle through the dense trees. Darkness and light mix in this forest, in a combination so delicate the air seems to be a painting made with only the two colors, combined in ways only the forest understands.
The only thing: I can’t hear any of it.
It is as if the world has turned off, a switch flipped from the bustling city to these silent woods, so unnerving I want to scream until I can hear myself again.
I allow the tugging to draw me further into the woods. The trees are so close together on the sides of the path, they seem to block it in a wall entirely. My toe jams into a root, and I stumble, nearly tumbling into the dirt. The fall sends my heart pounding and I close my eyes briefly to calm it. I listen for anything, any sound to ease my trembling fingers. Nothing.
Is it me? Have I gone deaf? Are my ears plugged?
Or is it the forest?
I look back, worry now knotting my stomach into a web.
I gasp, but I can’t hear the sound. The trees have grown up behind me, blocking escape. The forest around me all looks the same, with the tall trees rising up above me and covering any path except the one forward. My only sense of direction is the tugging dragging me forward.
The branches seem closer now, but rather than a hug, they seem to be reaching to grab me, to pull me into their wooded world.
My breath comes in short wheezes as panic sets in.
I wrap my arms around myself, squeezing tightly until my fingers are splaying across my back.
I glance around again. The trees are still like fences along the path, branches swaying gently in a whispered breeze. My gaze returns to the path behind me and I jump- a black cat is perched on the path.
I yelp. It looks up at me with bright yellow eyes, its head cocked slightly to the side. I stare at it, eyes wide, for a moment. It must’ve come out of the bushes; of course I didn’t hear it.
It rises to its paws, still peering at me intently. It yawns, exposing rows of sharp teeth. I draw back, gasping.
“Oh, come on, I’m not that scary!”
The words seem to have come from the cat's mouth, but they reach me in a haze of confused fog. I gawk at it.
“What? Can’t you hear me?” it says.
“I- uh- you can talk?”
“Well of course I can!” it replies.
I stare at it for a minute, and then panic whirs my legs into action. I slowly start to walk away, down the path further. It follows me. My pace quickens, and soon I’m running, sprinting down the winding road, past trees and brush and brambles away from the talking cat. My arms flounder at my sides, catching all sorts of scrapes from the branches and vines.
Finally, I skid to a stop, realizing the cat must be long gone, and then truly understanding how deep in the forest I’ve come.
I suck in a breath of musty air. Then another, before I truly see what’s in front of me.
The darkness blankets heavy here, the sun entirely blocked by the branches overhead. They’re weaved together as if someone knitted them into a solid roof over the clearing. A breeze tickles my arms and legs and I shudder. It’s not a cool, relaxing breeze. It felt like darkness, cold and bitter. The only light comes from dim shafts in the trees surrounding the glade.
And the pearl white tomb in the middle.
I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle a shriek.
Its rectangular surface was carved of white stone, stained with splotches of green and brown from the dirt and leaves. Roots and grasses curled up around the base like gnarled fingers grasping the tomb. Something was etched in the top- a name, though I was too far away to see it.
I didn’t want to get closer.
A ring of black grass surrounded it, completely charred from something. A perfect circle of deadness. It’s unnerving, unusual. Something about it radiates darkness and evil. I don’t dare step closer, but the trees seem to be pressing towards me.
And then there’s the cat, sitting neatly atop the tombstone.
I draw in a sharp breath, and start coughing, but I can’t hear any sound but the cat's maniacal laughter.
Panic and fear make me cry out, wishing someone, anyone, anything could hear me. But even I can't hear myself. Can anyone else hear me?
A leaf brushes my ankle and I take another scrambled step forward, yelping. I squeeze my eyes shut.
Darkness is the only company I have behind my closed eyelids.
They flutter open again and my gaze darts around the space, now completely encircled with thick branches. I look back at the tomb.
“Why are you afraid?” the cat whispers, its mouth stretched in what must be a grin. “There's no need to fear…”
No need to fear.
“Just step,” it purrs.
In a trance, my foot raises, poised above the black grass.
Time slows while the silence stretches on.
Darkness clouds my mind.
“No need to fear; just take the step.”
My subconscious fights back, but it’s powerless against the cats voice, for ways I can't comprehend nor explain.
My eyes close and then reopen.
My foot touches the grass.
And darkness swallows me whole.

(edit: just realized part three doesn't really make sense since the main character can't hear anything so… lol)

Weekly #4

Part 1 - 308 words
Love the storyline and plot to this! Your wording confused me slightly in some parts, though. What are the “flashes of milky brown”? Another thing that confused me was “She swooped in and cut their wings” Do the humans have wings as well? Or is it that the queen's army had wings? I think it would be better if you emphasized more on that part. Are “they” the ones that have the wings and they will be cut off? I thought this was supposed to be about unique body parts, but it seems that the queen's guards are unique as well? And if the queens guards are working for the queen, who loathes the winged people, (is what i'm getting, not sure if it is correct) then are they hiding them? If so, how? Maybe add more phrasing so the picture can become more clear. I also want to point out that she “fell down” but she hadn't reached the island. Did she fall down on a different island, or was that just a mistake? Basically, try to add more detail so whoever is reading can understand the story fully. But, in contrast, there are many things in the story that are just additional comments. Is there a specific backstory to her parents, that contributes dearly to the story? Or is it just extra information you do not need. Try to find random sentences that are just additional to the story, and overall are not going to shape the story very well. There are some other unnecessary exclamation points throughout the story, some of the sentences that have an exclamation point at the end are not very alarming. Also, in “a familiar feeling, yet she was never sick of it” It says later on that she is “new to flying”. Try to stick to one of these ideas.

Part 2 - 598 words
Leyna was caught in between dozens of zombies. One of them sneaks up behind her, only to be slashed with her stiletto seconds later. But it quickly fell to the ground. Leyna was stuck in a corner, backing away with every step. Her stiletto was on the floor, waiting to be picked up, but she knew she was going to get bitten even if she attempted to grab it, and resisted the urge to. Come on, Leyna. You're better than this! she scolded herself in her head. Suddenly, gunshots rang out, one more sharp and petrifying than the next. “Kamryn! You idiot!” Leyna shouts. Leyna knew she had those zombies. “Well, it's fine,” she quickly adds. “I'm going to the forest. Lots of zombies will be there,” She then stormed off into the forest. Leyna wanted -knew!-she was going to look tough and strong. And Kamryn knew he couldn't live without her. A smile widened across her face. He was, of course, an easy opponent. But before she got lost in her thoughts, Leyna then pulled out the real deal; the bigger dagger hanging near her hip. The wooden hilt of it feels rigid beneath her fingers, the sharp tip gleaming in the sun. Moving along the forest, she walked without a care in the world. And even though the apocalypse stole Leyna's family, her future– she still broke through, although every once in a while she thought deeply about her father.. and her other loved ones. Leyna knew it wasn't good to be distracted, as it was the second time today. Especially during the apocalypse, it could be fatal. So she tried focusing more on the zombies. They always came out at sunset, which the red-streaked sky signaled. Perfect. As if a response, a zombie snagged her shirt. “Ha!” Leyna laughed heavily. She slit open the zombie with her dagger, leaving it limp on the floor. Leyna knew it was dangerous work; but she couldn't help it. The laugh escaped immediately through her lips. Suddenly, a voice whispered, “Leyna Neirfell, a kind soul; indeed. But that soul is mine,” Leyna's eyebrows furrow. Was it her consciousness? “Oh, what's that?” Leyna asks into the air. A slash in the neck surely responded to that. She reached for her dagger, but the dark-hooded figure snatched it first. “Eager for my dagger?..” she says softly before adding, “Kamryn?” with a smirk. “Keep that smirk,” Kamryn says with a laugh, as he aims at Leyna's head. She quickly ducks and grabs her stiletto. Leyna glares with her signature stare. “Your stare is sharper than your dagger,” Kamryn swings. “Let's keep it that way,” Leyna says, her smirk going strong. She intended to win this fight and nothing less. She slashes back but Kamryn blocks. Leyna yawns just to get on Kamryn's nerves. An easy victory. Plus, another scar would make her look tougher. The wound on her neck pained her, and she winced, giving Kamryn enough time to slash her again, on the shoulder. Leyna's defenses went back. It hurt, badly. It hurt to see herself so weak. Kamryn swung his last shot. And held the dagger over his shoulder. He returned the yawn. “You're late. bud,” Leyna replies, fierce. But inside she wanted to sink into the floor. “Doesn't matter. Thanks for the sweet dagger.” He kicked Leyna hard in the stomach and she finally fell to the floor. She couldn't give up on herself, or on her dagger. But she did. Leyna heard him shriek loudly, signaling the zombies. They all came rushing by. “Who's smirking now.” said Kamryn.


Part 3 - 792 words
Leyna was caught in between dozens of zombies. One of them sneaks up behind her, only to be slashed with her stiletto seconds later. But it quickly fell to the ground. Leyna was stuck in a corner, backing away with every step. Her stiletto was on the floor, waiting to be picked up, but she knew she was going to get bitten even if she attempted to grab it, and resisted the urge to. Come on, Leyna. You're better than this! she scolded herself in her head. Suddenly, gunshots rang out, one more sharp and petrifying than the next. “Kamryn! You idiot!” Leyna shouts. Leyna knew she had those zombies. “Well, it's fine,” she quickly adds. “I'm going to the forest. Lots of zombies will be there,” She then stormed off into the forest. Leyna wanted -knew!- she was going to look tough and strong. And Kamryn knew he couldn't live without her. A smile widened across her face. He was, of course, an easy opponent. But before she got lost in her thoughts, a bird flew in the air. It had something strange on its face. An eyepatch? Leyna then pulled out the real deal; the bigger dagger hanging near her hip. The wooden hilt of it feels rigid beneath her fingers, the sharp tip gleaming in the sun. She planned to grind this little guy, but as he fell on Leyna's shoulder, Leyna had second thoughts. “Oh, alright bud,” Leyna murmurs. Moving along the forest, she walked without a care in the world. And even though the apocalypse stole Leyna's family, her future– she still broke through, although every once in a while she thought deeply about her father.. and her other loved ones. This bird did have some comfort, a pet. Leyna knew it wasn't good to be distracted, as it was the second time today. Especially during the apocalypse, it could be fatal. And the apocalypse had also done some serious damage to the bird, Leyna assumed it was blind in one eye. It screeched again, flying around the place. It was extremely hyper. “Get back here!” Leyna laughed, but she reminded herself she had to focus more on the zombies. A bird would just get in her way. The zombies usually came out at sunset, which the red-streaked sky signaled. Perfect. As if a response, a zombie snagged her shirt. The bird ca-cawed and lunged towards the zombie. “Ha!” Leyna laughed heavily. The bird was trying its hardest to help Leyna. She slit open the zombie with her dagger, leaving it limp on the floor. The bird helped Leyna, swooping in and cutting it up with its beak. Gulping it Oh, maybe it wasn't so bad after all! Leyna thought. Suddenly, a voice whispered, “Leyna Neirfell, a kind soul; indeed. But that soul is mine,” Leyna's eyebrows furrow. Was it her consciousness? “Oh, what's that?” Leyna asks into the air. A slash in the neck surely responded to that. The bird screeched. She reached for her dagger, but the dark-hooded figure snatched it first. “Eager for my dagger?..” she says softly before adding, “Kamryn?” with a smirk. “Keep that smirk,” Kamryn says with a laugh, as he aims at Leyna's head. The eyepatched bird immediately started poking Kamryn; but to no avail. Kamryn slashed the bird as its eyepatch fell off. “No!” Leyna screamed. “Attached?” Kamryn asked, taking another swing. She quickly ducks and grabs her stiletto. Leyna glares with her signature stare. But tears filled them slightly. She couldn't believe she was so attached to the bird. “Your stare is sharper than your dagger,” Kamryn swings. “Let's keep it that way,” Leyna says, her smirk faded completely, but she intended to win this fight and nothing less. For the bird. She slashes back but Kamryn blocks. Leyna yawns just to get on Kamryn's nerves. An easy victory. Plus, another scar would make her look tougher. The wound on her neck pained her, and she winced, giving Kamryn enough time to slash her again, on the shoulder. Leyna's defenses went back. It hurt, badly. It hurt to see herself so weak. Kamryn swung his last shot. And held the dagger over his shoulder. He returned the yawn. “You're late. bud,” Leyna replies, fierce. But inside she wanted to sink into the floor. “Doesn't matter. Thanks for the sweet dagger.” He kicked Leyna hard in the stomach and she finally fell to the floor. She couldn't give up on herself, or on her dagger. The bird, even! But she did. Leyna heard him shriek loudly, signaling the zombies. Beside Leyna, the bird chirps quietly. The zombies suddenly all came rushing by. “Who's smirking now.” said Kamryn, as Leyna hugs the bird to her chest and grabs the eyepatch.

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Daily #29 - A New Perspective

Words: 587
Points: 500

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I chose to rewrite a small section of the story I created in part three of this weekly: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/652713/?page=10#post-6919487 , from Elani's perspective.

“How are you tonight, Harry?” I asked the owl, conversationally.
“Hoo! Hoo!” he replied.
“Ah, good,” I said, nodding in agreement.
I started to twirl in circles around for no reason, giggling. I usually giggled when I was nervous, and I might have just been the teensiest bit nervous at the moment. I had asked Ainsley to come meet me in the forest tonight, and it looked like she understood; but it’s so hard to judge what people are thinking in their dreams. Everything looks blurry, faces fade in and out, and most people I talk to don’t seem to hear me at all. Or maybe they’re just a bit creeped out by me popping into their dreams…. That’s not that creepy though, is it?
Anyway, I could already tell Ainsley was a nice girl. She was different from everyone else I’d attempted to communicate with, and I just had a feeling that she understood, and that she would come.
I impatiently combed my fingers through my long, curly, pale hair, tapping my foot on the mossy ground.
“Harry- she is going to come, right?”
No response.
I sighed, sitting down against a tree.
Maybe I was just getting my hopes up… why was I so stressed about waiting, anyway? All I’d done for the past ten years was wait. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Of all the dozens of people I tried to talk to, to make friends with, only four had met me in person. The “specials”, I called them. Well, technically only three specials so far since Ainsely hadn’t met me yet, but I knew she would. She had that certain aura about her, just like my other three specials had. All four of them had curly hair, a special spirit, and were willing to believe in things they had previously thought impossible.
I don’t know why no one else could see me, or hear me when I tried to talk to them…. It was quite frustrating. I don’t like to say it, but I do get a bit lonely on occasion, in these woods. The most recent time I’d had an interaction with a human was about a year ago, when a sweet girl named Monica came to visit; the third special. It was high time I made another friend!
Suddenly a quiet humming interrupted my train of thought. It sounded like… a girl! Ainsley! She must be here! Excitedly, I stood up and peeked around the tree. A girl with frizzy hair and floppy pajamas was walking by, humming a tune softly. Without noticing, I began to hum with her, harmonizing. I didn’t want to scare her by popping out too suddenly, so I quietly slipped out from behind the tree and began walking on the path behind her, in her footsteps. I would let her notice me naturally instead of scaring her suddenly.
I continued humming, and we continued walking. I wondered how long it would take her to notice me…. Maybe just a tap on the shoulder would’ve been better?
Ainsley suddenly stopped walking and stood still, looking rather frightened she frantically glanced around her. I didn’t mean to frighten her, poor thing! Perhaps I should reveal myself.
“Oh sorry, did I scare you?” I asked.
Ainsley whirled around, and gave a little shriek as we came nose-to-nose, looking each other in the eyes.
I smiled at her.
She gaped at me in astonishment, as if she didn't expect me to be real.
I grinned even bigger.
“I’ve been waiting for you!”

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Daily #30 - A Look Back At JWC 2023

Words: 355
Points: 100

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First of all, JWC was such a fun experience! This was the first time I did a Scratch writing camp, and I’m so glad I got to be a part of it! I definitely hope to participate next year too. For this daily, I decided to write my feedback and thoughts in the three categories below. ^^

Social aspect/teamwork: It was so fun to be part of a cabin, and to have a little crew to work with, chat with, be chaotic with, and hang out with! I got to meet so many amazing new people, interact with the ones I already knew, and get to know some of the people that I just barely knew before quite well. It’s also really inspiring to see the brilliant writing of my cabin-mates, and of all the writers in JWC!
Hosts/co-hosts/leaders: Every single person who worked to run JWC did an incredible job! Each interaction with any of them was friendly, helpful, and thoughtful. I’m in awe of the amount of work, dedication, and effort you all put into organizing this and helping us all out. Thank you guys so much for making JWC an amazing experience for all of us campers! <3
My writing progress: I feel like I’ve improved a ridiculous amount during camp! I came into this pretty inexperienced; I had written a few short stories, some poems, and some unfinished blurbs, but I always struggled with coming up with ideas for creative writing, and procrastinated all the time. I had no clue what I was capable of- I originally set my word goal to 5k, thinking that seemed like a rather dauntingly large number, but I ended up writing over 15k before the end of the month! I felt more inspired to write than I honestly ever have, and I’ve really started to enjoy the writing process in a way I didn’t before. I also learned many new writing techniques and literary tools that I wasn’t familiar with before, which have really helped me! I feel so much more comfortable in my writing skills now, and I’m excited to continue writing

Daily for Rebel 47 words

I definitely liked it! It was really fun although I was a bit caught up in my other stories. I might try next year, though. I wasn’T sure what to do half the time but when I had someone explain it to me it was extraordinarily clear!

Daily #31 1/30/23
word count: 292

Thank you <33

My thanks to the amazing leaders of Sleuth Cabin, Piper and Pineapple!

Hi Piper and Pineapple! This past month has been the most fun and exciting I’ve had in a while on scratch. It was my first time joining a camp on scratch and I got to say I enjoyed it 100% (it has also made me join SAC in February because of how much fun I had during this camp, I wanted to do another one lol) You both have been the most amazing and welcoming leaders. From the introductions, both of you welcomed every single Sleuther in open arms and have been encouraging and supportive. You both are just spectacular in the fact of hosting a whole cabin, keeping track of all our keys and word count, additionally the clues and such. I’m so glad that both of you were my and all the other Sleuthers’ leaders, we would not have been in first (hopefully winners! We’ll see tomorrow) if it weren’t for you both. Keep up the great work and thank you for this wonderful session, I will definitely be joining again next year.

To all my fellow Sleuthers (I sound so formal saying that lol)
I’ve had an amazing time this session with you all. It’s been so fun getting to know you all and talking with you all. I’ve made a few friends this session as well. What I enjoyed most was reading all your marvelous writing and even receiving some feedback. I hope you all had just as fun as I did getting to know each other and hope to ‘see’ you all around scratch <33
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Thank you to…
Sleuth's WONDERFUL leaders,
Piper & Pineapple!

and my fellow Sleuthers,
Jean, Azlin, Kenzie, Moss, Amethyst, Chloe, Rain, Kate, Avika, Tilly, Abbie, Wordy!

Time to write 5,000-word thankyou notes :'DDDD


SMC (Scratch Music Camp) Thankyou Notes For The Two Thousand And Three (2023) January Session!


@Icebunny11 - Thank you for getting over your writing block and procrastinating a minute lesser. B) You can do your one-year challenge, don't stress about your exams, and study for the annual as usual as you can!! Love from your previous self, Ava!


First of all-

@FirestarForReal - You were the one who alerted me for the thank you notes I would have never heard of them if not for you!!!! You're the biggest lifesaver ever.

@Milkysplash - Hey Carina!! I'm pretty sure you recognize me from somewhere else too ;D but this session I read some of your writing because I was bored, and your writing style is really nice!! I think I got more ideas for stories from one of yours, I can't remember the name though. I"ll try to send it to you when I'm done with it!

@iinspirqtion - THANKYOU THANKYOU THANKYOU SOO much for being such an attentive and great leader!! The cabin was not itself without you randomly putting in word counts of yours which were above 1000 words, giving us the message to hurry up and stop procrastinating XD I enjoyed this session with journalists, and I hope I can join the next session too!!

@Kat_Camps - I was worried no one would add my word count until you came along X) I cannot remember a single word count not added by you for my writings. You were a bit late sometimes, but usually, you were very attentive for the word count adding, thank you for being such a great co-host and word count adder XD.

@x_Rosemary_x - I have never been so comforted that someone else forgot the writing competition deadline just like me X) I was so worried like ‘oH mY gOd Im PrObABbLy ThE only one WHO foRgOT ABouT IT!’ and then seeing your message in the cabin made my day XDD

@Alfafa78 - I don't know why I find you so familiar… L_L Have I seen you somewhere? Were you maybe in SMC for November? I think you might have been one of my campers!

@raniidreamxs - Never have I seen someone recommend ‘Life is cruel,’ as a quote for the memory book cover, and it made me giggle for sure good job making me laugh in the middle of my exams X)

@Dawn_Camps - I remember you from SWC!!! You were really helpful there and there was not a day I did not log in and scroll to see if someone's advice had been answered, and six out of ten times it was usually you, and it was mostly the same in SMC too!! X) I also used you in one of my skits, I forgot to send it to you! I'll try to find it and send it to you!

@CoockieRun_Kat - Honestly, I'm a bit betrayed. We were supposed to do the weekly together, but because I was inactive for a bit you went off with another partner. But anyways, thank you for at least trying to be my partner, and I must say your chapters were very intriguing, though there was a bit of critique I was preparing.

@Coding_Captain_UG - Thanks for doing my first JWC word wars with me! I was so surprised when we got the exact number of words, and even more surprised that I actually had 2 more words than you!! Woah, talk about coincidences!!

@TheBibiliophile7 - Yes I remember you, even though it was just one comment XD Remember that weekly I completed in just a quarter of an hour? Yup you were there too, in disbelief just like all the others XD

@PiperCamps - Thank you for posting the Memory book contest project, even though I never had a chance to upload it because I did not know it had been released ;_; The aesthetic was really nice, and so was the background music. Kudos to you! When I saw no comments on the project and did not look at the remixes, I was about to barge into the main cabin asking why they didn't even look at your project XDDDDDD

@sweetcakefamily - I also remember you from SWC too!! You were the one with that writing I showed my classmate or something. Hi again from my side!! XD

@reallybigwords - I have no idea if you remember me but ok XD I saw you somewhere else, somewhere you signed up for ;D but I saw it one month too late XDDDD LMAO HI!!

@smartypantschlo - Yes, do you remember me? Your reader in SMC I never got to write thankyou notes to all my wonderful campers, so I guess I'll add yours over here!!

@xXFierroOrFalafelXx - Weren't you the one who's project went viral? That sign up for Wings Of Fire or something? I remember signing up a day too late and you rejecting me politely XD I didn't know I'd find you here!!

@TWILIGHT_A - LOL LOL LOL LOL DO YOU RMEMEBER ME FROM SWC?! I used you in the bi-daily skit thingy!! XD You probably don't but I do since I've shown that story to people multiple times and your username is always at the credits at the top XP

@Eeveedonut - How could I ever forget you, Oh might Eevee leader of the pirates XDDDDD W've met so many times in so many camps it's hard to say that we're just casual friends XD We've known each other for around three fourths of a year by now XPPPP

@Frogolla - Oh hi!! I don't think you remember it, but you were in my cabin last time in SWC I think, or maybe in one of our allies's cabins!! How could I forget that iconic name?

@SussyLegWarmers- - Ah yes, the person who's name shall be imprinted in my brain forever. IT's a good thing I didn't actually type up ‘Sussy Leg Warmers,’ Just incase they really were sus SWC has a lot of connections doesn't it.

@autokarrect– - I don't even know you, but one sentence dedicated to do this name XDD I don't know one person who's life has not been ruined by autocorrect at least once.

@MasterEmilyCoolWOF - Also in my cabin for SMC. Hi Emily! How are you doing?

@xc-egg - I don't know where I've seen you but I have ;_; please remind where you're from, SMC or SWC.

AND THATS THE END OF JWC ;_; IM GONNA MISS YOU ALL, SEE YOU NEXT YEAR!!!!