7/17/2023
- wave + cherry blossom
- amount: 558

july 17th, 1723. this is a futuristic world, in which the years count backwards. this is a world where people are free, where people are safe. this is a world where people are their own bosses, this is a world unlike those before it. all of the above is a lie.

eris knows, has always known. no matter what the politicians try to drill into his head, no matter how long they lecture him. it is the exact same, a repeat of the world for the past millennium. humans never change.

he thinks it’s funny. the vibrant advertisements, the posters glued onto every corner of every street, their smiling, young, unwrinkled faces so unlike their true form. politicians are funny people, trying to fit in with the youth. eris does not know how much longer he can contain himself.

he does not know when his rage will erupt, when his fury will vanquish the thousands of cities. eris only knows that the more they smile, the more they laugh, his eyes twitch and his hands clench. he thinks when the time comes, he will take their wives and children and force them to kill each other. he thinks he will slit the necks of their most beloved, shove grotesque abominations down their throats. he will have his vengeance.

eris has told himself he is a selfish monster, to want to destroy innocents who have done him no harm. but their sweet smiles, their laughing eyes, he despises it. he does not why. he imagines that in one of his past lives, he must have fallen in love with one of them. his heart tells him so. they must have harmed him in some way, for his brain to think that he must obliterate every last one of them.

he thinks it must have been mariana. he can smell her sickly perfume, a mixture of sea salts and cherry blossoms on his robes when he was alone. eris read a book, as the mortals call them, about her. they say she wore the same perfume.

but he thinks it might’ve been leviathan too. eris runs his fingers through his long white hair in a pattern similar to him. eris can only remember a sliver of leviathan, but he knows leviathan used to do this too.

even if it was one or the other, he knows that they have hurt him. broken his heart, smashed it to pieces. mortals cannot live forever, but neither can him. he just knows they cannot be revived like him. he must have been foolish, after all his lives, to accept a human’s love. what has he learned?

then, one day, he knows.

it is the day he finally annihilates their cities.

eris can feel the ocean between his fingertips, its gentle wind caressing his deep plum robes. his lovers had been oceanfolk, living along the shore. he feels the water trickling down his back in rivulets, he swears that is what possesses him as he summons wave after wave.

the floods swarm, the waters erode. they leave chaos in their wake. humanity will need eons to recover.

he can smell mariana’s perfume as the ocean rushes into the cities. he runs his hand through his hair like leviathan. he can hear, feel, everything they meant to him in his previous lives. the city falls.

this was not a quality piece of work, but it will have to do for now.

daily #17, fish + city, 476 words
Turning Day is compulsory for everyone in the city. It happens once every year, on the last day of the year and is a celebration for all.
I stand in front of my mirror, in a spaghetti strap black dress, shrugging on the golden jacket that everyone being turned must wear. My hair is braided down in a fishtail, the ironic hairstyle almost every girl wears.
I turn away from the mirror as my mother calls me to come down, and catch sight of a school of fish swimming outside of my window, on their way to The City Hall, for our Ceremony.
That could be mine in a few hours.
At the bottom of the stairs, mum grins proudly at the sight of me. Wordlessly, I pose and the camera shutter goes off. My younger sister Cami appears above me, in a deep blue playsuit. I smile at her- next year it will be her in my position.
After we all take turns getting photos, we take the tunnels to the City Hall.

“Jenni Hyre,” our mayor calls. I step up to the stage, my heart beating fast. Just enough time is allowed for me to shoot a nervous smile towards mum before I am at the edge of the tank.
The mayor’s words from yesterday come back to me, “When you arrive at the side of the tank, take a breath and dive in. Swim right to the end, and do not stop.”
I take a deep breath and dive in. My eyes open immediately, taking in the clear blue of the water surrounding me, bluer than that of the city.
I push through the water, kicking towards where I’m assuming the exit will be.
Pain sears through my neck and in shock I stop. Putting my hands up on either side of my neck I feel two cuts. The water is empty, nothing could’ve made those cuts. I continue through the water, aware my air supply is running out. About two metres later, I felt another cut on either side of my neck. This time I grimace, but keep kicking- I’m almost at the exit.
As I’m about to climb out, a final two cuts rip through my neck.
Hands reach out to pull me out, and when I stand up, I see the crowd anxiously. A screen broadcasts me to those further back, and it’s on that that I catch sight of my cuts. Except they aren’t just normal cuts, they are my gills.
I close my eyes, thinking of what I am supposed to do now. My eyes fly open, looking for the symbols on my body that will tell me my faction. I find it on the curve of my wrist, a wave, same as mum!
The mayor looks at it, and announces it, before cheers erupt from my faction.

Daily #17
7/17/2023
492 words

“So, anyways, like I was saying,” Winston recalls, taking another bite of his sandwich, “as I was going to my cabin last night, I saw this really big thingy floating.”
“A big thingy?” Stella scoffs, flicking a lock of hair behind her shoulder, “Sooooo interesting.”
Charlie rolls her eyes. “Let's listen to what he has to say before you start criticizing him.”
“It looked like a UFO. It was like a big gray pancake in the sky!” Winston continues.
“Winston, I'm not saying you are crazy, but…” Stella trails off, sipping her apple juice.
Charlie lowers her voice, tilting her head towards Winston and whispers, “Stella may think that you're crazy, but I'm pretty sure that she is.”
“You do know that I'm sitting right here, right?” Stella asks, glaring at Charlie.
“You weren't not supposed to hear that,” Charlie retorts, smirking before taking in more of her salad. “Besides, I think you need someone to tell you that at some point or another. Winston sure isn't going to tell you.”
Winston blinks. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“She's saying that you're a scaredy cat. That's what she thinks of you,” Stella insists.
“No! I don't think you're scared, I just think that, that…” Charlie pauses to collect her thoughts. “Stella is too feared by most, including you, to be told the brutal truth.”
“Hey!” Winston yells.
“Winston, what?” the two girls whip their heads in his direction.
Stella looks at the sky in disbelief. “No way,” she breathes, staring at the gray UFO looming above her.
“Awesome,” Charlie gasps, staring as objects begin floating, “So, Winston was right after all.”
Winston shakes his head. “No. No no no no. My mangoes!” He starts reaching up, trying to hold onto as many mangoes as he can. “Guys, our food is being taken away and if you want to finish up lunch, you better- WOAH!” Winston grabs onto another mango and starts floating up towards the UFO. “Guys, HELP!”
Charlie glares at Stella. “I grab his left foot and you get his right, got it?” she says, “We gotta help him!”
She leaps, grabbing onto his left foot and starts pulling him back to the ground. Stella, momentarily paralyzed, jumps in after her, accidentally taking off Winston's right shoe in the process. Winston reaches out and grabs his shoe before it floats out of his reach.
“Got it!” he declares, holding it up above his head.
They huddle together, linking arms to keep each other down. The UFO disappears and the tug that pulled them up drops them.
Stella shakes her head and declares, “If anything like that ever happens again, I don't want to be anywhere near it. Winston, keep your daydreams to yourself.”
“You literally just saw the UFO right above-” Charlie starts.
Stella presses her finger to Charlie's mouth. “No. No arguing with me about this. We've got to get back. I was never here.”
“Whatever you say,” Winston agrees.

Critique for @luna-lovegood-lol (311 words)

First of all, this is an amazing piece! It establishes the characters incredibly well, especially considering the short length of the story. Terrific work!

Specific things I liked:

The dynamic between the two main characters was really clear and awesome! I loved how you established the competitive spirit between the two, and gave them traditions and references that really made the relationship seem real.

The symbolism within the story was really great. The character’s actions, movements, and creations really showcase their personality without you having to say it. For example, when Drystan tumbles into the blankets, it shows us that he’s endearingly clumsy, and Oliver’s intentional movements represent he’s a little more stiff and sure of his actions. The scrapbook Drystan made also gave us a window into his personality, and I would’ve liked you to describe Oli’s scrapbook as well.

I loved the flow of the story! The events worked together, and it wasn’t choppy, which is really hard to do in these kinds of pieces!

The entire story was very fluffy and happy, and those kinds of stories are just fun to read

Things you could have improved on:

I noticed that not a lot of emotion was incorporated into the piece because there weren't a lot of words that conveyed feeling. For example, there’s a lot of
“blah.” Oli said, agreeing.
and sentences like those could use a bit more of describing how Oli was feeling when he said it, for example
“Blah.” Oli said emphatically, nodding his head in complete agreement.

One particular sentence that confused me was “It wasn’t the best photo, wasn’t it meant to be like that?”
Did you mean “was?” Or maybe better wording would have been, “It wasn’t the best photo, but wasn’t that intentional?” Or maybe I’m just not getting it xD

Overall, this story was great, lovely and legendary luna!

critique for @CleverComment, 569 words

Okay, first - this is mainly a personal preference thing, but I prefer paragraphs to have line breaks instead of being big blocks of words. It feels easier to read, more fast paced and gives it a better flow. For example, the start would look a bit like -

The echoes of my footsteps penetrated the empty air.
A draft of wind sliced through my ear. I glanced behind me.
Nothing but the cobbled road, but still; something in the atmosphere was… wrong.
Oleanders dotted the grass with beautiful petals of pink. Beguiling and toxic, they whispered words of warning in the wind.

The echoes of my footsteps penetrated the empty air.

I like the starting sentence! I also like how it plunges straight into the scene.

A draft of wind sliced through my ear.

The use of ‘draft’ to describe wind feels a bit odd - I know it's a version of ‘draught’ but it does feel a little strange there.
'sliced through my ear' also sounds a little strange, I get what you're trying to say here, but maybe reword it.

I glanced behind me. Nothing but the cobbled road, but still; something in the atmosphere was… wrong.

I really like this bit!

Oleanders dotted the grass with beautiful petals of pink.

Maybe describe them a little more - how are they shaped, how have they grown, etc.

Chills overcame me.

To avoid the ‘overcame me’s' - describe it. How does it feel, show don't tell! I'm not going to make a habit of rewriting sentences, but just as an example -

Chills swept down my body, and I shivered with something other than cold.

This night had already gone wrong many, many times.

Hmm maybe switch up the order a little - I'd put the ‘already’ after the ‘many, many times’.

The wind whistled as the night brewed like a murky elixir.

Ooh this is cool :>

I looked back again, and could see nothing through the fog that had suddenly descended.

Try to lose the ‘suddenly’! I use ‘suddenly’ far too much ajdbsjs but it's like the word ‘very’ - use it as little as possible, see if you can find alternatives.

A prickling sensation overcame me, and I started walking faster. My ragged breathes cut through the air.

*breaths

And then I saw it. The old cabin. Neglected, barely standing, yet it was shelter.

Line breaks would make this more powerful and add apprehension, so -

And then I saw it.
The old cabin. Neglected, barely standing, yet it was shelter.

I rushed up the steps and reached for the keys inside my pocket.

The previous sentence implies it's a random cabin the character's stumbled upon - why would they have the keys for it? Clarify!

I could not see through the rapidly descending dark, but I knew that I had to do.

Is this supposed to be ‘I knew what I had to do?’

I rushed down the steps into the path, blindly searching and clawing at the cobblestones.

It should be ‘onto’ the path, not ‘into the path’
Point out that they're doubling back, it's a little confusing
It goes straight from ‘rushing down the steps’ to ‘clawing at the cobblestones’ - they have to drop to the ground to claw at the cobblestones, so describe that

The sense of dread became a sense of danger, and I knew that someone was in the dark.

'The sense of dread became a sense of danger, and I knew that someone was there in the dark.' would sound a little better

Dirt streaked through my body, but I forced myself to get up.

The ‘through’ doesn't fit in this context… Saying where on their body might work better - like do they put their hands out to catch themselves and graze their palms? Does it kind of embed rocks and dirt into their skin, does it sting or does it bruise?

Then I realized something: thistles pierced my feet instead of cobblestones. I wasn't on the path. Frantic, I retraced my footsteps, but the veil of fog blinded me.

:000

Where was this? Before I could process this, I heard leaves crunching nearby.

You repeated ‘this’ twice, switch one of them for something else.

Goosebumps took over.

Describe this :>

My life was too short to end like this.

Huh? It should be ‘My life was too short to end so soon’, or something more like ‘My life couldn’t end like this'

I heard noises approaching me, but my mind was racing.

You don't need the ‘but’, split it into two sentences.

I would not, could not die with these regrets.

What are ‘these regrets’? Reveal them, if the character's thinking of them in their last moments!

A sickening sweet smell __idk what to put here__ me.

Washed over me? Swept over me? Overwhelmed me? Filled the air? Filled my lungs?

My head was spinning; the lure of the asphodel was too strong.

I don't think that asphodel can poison you from the smell? I think it's only if ingested as in eaten? And according to google, only its roots are toxic?
I know you did this for the flower daily, but if you wanted to use this for anything else or refine it as a short story, you should probably change to another plant.

There was nothing I could do but lie down.

B-but what about dramatics :pleading_face:
It would be so cool they fainted, or staggered around trying to stay awake before falling to their knees and collapsing amid the flowers

Sleep, beautiful sleep overcame me, and the world went dark.

Split this in two maybe? You could also do fancy different formatting with this as the character loses consciousness, for example -

Sleep, beautiful sleep overcame me, and
the world
went
dark.

Overall, I really liked this! I loved the atmosphere and the growing feeling of dread throughout :>
Our two pieces are actually quite similar, which is interesting! It's cool to critique each others writing around a similar concept instead of having completely different things, if you know what I mean <33

Weekly 3 - Part 1
Structure: basic planning 262 words

Beginning:
Here I will be introducing the first-year high-schooler named Lizzy; she lives in Boston with her mother, three older brothers and two cats. She is starting her first day at Brooklyn Western Academy; a posh school with very high standards. She actually has superpowers, which she doesn't know about. Many infamous villains have their hands outstretched to grab the powers, causing a lot of havoc on the way. Is it up to Lizzy to stop them?(the event story)

Middle:
As Lizzy lives her sweet high-schooler life, she meets a girl with a bubbly personality called Nina. As they hang out, Lizzy awkwardly discovers her secret powers, right in front of Nina. Nina finds this extremely exciting, however, Lizzy on the other hand, finds it troublesome. Being the only other person to know that Lizzy has secret powers, Nina decides to make it her goal to train Lizzy on how to use them correctly. Whilst their training goes on, Lizzy discovers quite horrifying articles in the newspaper about villains …

Ending
Sometime later, Lizzy gets a mysterious call from an unknown number. It belongs to some abnormal scientist who accidentally gave her those powers when he was experimenting with some peculiar liquid. Lizzy was not human?! She discovers that she is an AI-constructed human built to protect from evil, but it all went incredibly wrong. As more villains pop up in the news, Lizzy decided to track down the mastermind of them all and finish him.

Part 2
writing the introduction

Daily 18- peanut butter and jelly playing cards! @jalepeno9 (503 words)

“Peebee, you can’t do that! It’s cheating!” Jay glared at his wife, who was currently busy trying- and failing- to hide an ace up her nonexistent sleeve. It was now stuck to the side of her jar with a gob of peanut butter. In plain sight.
“Whatever.” Peebee said, rolling her eyes as the card fell to the floor with a sploot. “Why are we even playing this dumb game, anyway? You know I hate these stupid card thingies.” She slammed down her hand of cards and harrumphed.
Jay let out a long-suffering sigh, which turned into a wet sneeze, and a glob of jelly fell onto the floor, right next to Peebee. “Ew!” Peebee said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Snot! I know you have the jelly flu, but can you please make sure your gross sneezes don’t come anywhere near me?!”
Jay just ignored her, putting down his next card, but Peebee refused to continue playing. “Let’s do something else, Jay.” she said, hopping over to the giant sofa and using her sticky peanut butter to scale the armrest. Once she reached the top, she grabbed the TV remote and clicked through the channels until she found one showing tennis. She grabbed her peanut butter-filled pretzel stick racket from the coffee table and pretended she was in the championship at Wimbledon, mimicking the forehands, backhands, volleys, and slices until she creamed her opponent, making thwack! smack! and YES! take that, you dirty jerk! sound effects all the while, much to Jay’s extreme annoyance. Then, once she finished her two-minute bout of daily exercise, she flopped back on the sofa and switched the channel to a cooking show, panting all the while. Jay hopped up to the table and was about to have a mature conversation with his wife about filing for a divorce when they heard footsteps in the distance.
They both looked at each other in panic and scrambled with sandwich-like speed back to the kitchen cabinet where they were supposed to be. They slammed the cabinet closed just as they heard the cheerful whistling and the loud click of the key turning in the old lock as the young man they called “the roommate” entered the apartment. They were plunged into complete darkness as the man whistled closer, and soon they both rolled their eyes in unison as he came into the kitchen, talking to himself all the while. “Hmm, I’m hungry… maybe I’ll make a sandwich?” he hummed as he walked around the kitchen, inspecting the contents of the fridge and emerging with some white bread. (They knew this because he said, “What’s in the fridge? Eggs, waffles, apples, sunglasses… wait, why are those in there? Oh! White bread! Perfect, I’ll use it!”)
Soon he came to the cabinet and opened it curiously, wondering what he had put in there. “Peanut butter and jelly! Great!”
Oh, brother, Peebee and Jay thought, sighing, as he spread them over some stale bread and brought them to his mouth. Just great.

writing comp entry
this is the first section of my story
757 words
________

Fresh blood. The scent was undeniable, burning her nose hairs with more force than what the humans called farts. She looked down at the many rats that stood in formation, awaiting her arrival.
“Rat Leader.” A scruffy, red eyed rat eyed the human girl, although her body was no escape for the pure rattiness that wafted around her. An aura that was unmistakable.
The girl pointed to the ground. “Who was taken this time, Horace?”
“Taken? Taken? Until the day I die, no rat is taken. No rat, regardless of its rattiness, shall be taken by a homo-sapien. I swear on every cell in my worn body. On every life before and after mine.”
“How can we explain these calamities, then?”
“Their material body is simply eradicated, of course. We breathe souls, daughter. Oxygen is a myth.”
Horace motioned his claws at a group of shamans, who shook their heads in grief. All hope was lost. They placed the rat on a straw mat, covering him with fig leaves. Slowly, they brought the lifeless body toward their king. Blood continued to drip from the lifeless heart, staining the sewers as it had done many times before.
“This time, the earthlings took the life of our dear friend, and your mentor… Eustice.”
Kneeling down, Rat Leader carefully took the frail rat’s body in her cold hands. His face showed courage, regardless of the metal spike plunged into his chest.
“How did it happen?” Rat Leader asked, trying not to sob from looking in his now stony eyes.
“Rat trap. It happened in a school… Parker Middle. All Eustice wanted was to bring some leftover slop for his wife and children, but one of those… those… teachers… they pulled the trigger on him!” The shaman was in tears, and fell to his Majesty’s feet.
Only then did Rat Leader see, from the corner of her eye, a puffy faced Mrs. Eustice, cradling her two children in her arms, praying to the Rat God to save her family. She would have to plan the funeral, care for her kids, do her job at the palace… How would she find enough food for her family now?
“We have been trying to help all the families who have been affected, but it’s incredibly hard with the increasing death toll. I’m just not sure how we can fix any of this.” Alice the Advisor held her head low in shame.
Eugenie, the Queen of the Rats, looked up at her daughter. “Rat Leader, darling, the court and I… we have been thinking…”
Straightening her back, Rat Leader shifted her gaze downwards to look at the queen’s beady red eyes. She came down on a knee, and waited for her mother to continue speaking.
“The Parker Middle rats made an offer a few months ago to us.”
Rat Leader lifted her eyelids just slightly.
“They wanted to invite you to their school.” Eugenie’s body froze for but a moment, looking at her daughter’s black eyes. Freezing and observing was a sign of fear, but knowing her mother, Rat Leader realized there was a tinge of curiosity, and perhaps… want for revenge.
“Mother, you know I don’t need a human education. I’m, as everyone knows, brilliant.” Rat Leader smirked just a little, playing dumb so that her mother would reveal more.
“Oh, my daughter, we know. We know. But, they aren’t offering you education. They are offering the chance to lay siege.”
The court burst into murmurs. None of them believed this duty would be thrust into the girl’s hands at such a tender age. Would she be able to fulfill it?
Meanwhile, Rat Leader’s sense of duty spoke to her. She had to avenge the souls of her ancestors. Placing a hand on her heart, she took a breath of the spirits. “I’m ready, Mother.”
Eugenie signaled for the commander of the forces in the sewers. “I will lead you to the school, oh benevolent savior. We will begin your training immediately. Soon, it will be their blood that spills on their sun-kissed earth.”
“To the repulsive fiends, benevolence with become a myth as soon as I step on their grounds,” Rat Leader scoffed, picking herself up from the blood stained ground.
“Never again shall a life be thwarted by their traps,” Horace enunciated.
Rat Leader took the sharp glass shard shard from the prime minister’s claws, swearing she would fulfill her duty.
The rats took their cups of mead and rose the wooden cups to the sewer’s cieling. “Victory will be ours!”

Rai stood at the edge of the water, staring out at the darkening horizon. Clouds roiled like the waves beneath them, black and forbidding. But this is what it was always like. The land around him and his family seemed to be in a perpetual state of storm. According to Mother, it wasn’t like this before Father lost his heart and his eye. Rai had never known his father before the battle with the Serpent Illujanka, but he had heard the story thousands of times.
As if the thought of him had summoned him up, Father’s footsteps hit the ground behind Rai, his presence announced by the electricity pulsing around him, leaving the harsh scent of burning in the air.
“Father,” Rai said as Ramman, Storm God, drew up beside him.
Ramman was an imposing figure with sharp features and a square jaw. His brow was drawn tight, and he wore leather armor covering the hole in his chest where his heart would be. He said nothing for a few uncomfortable moments.
Finally, Father turned to Rai, revealing the golden eyepatch covering his left eye. “Rai. I have decided it is time for you to be married.”
Caught off guard, Rai raised his eyebrows. Surprise rushed through him, as electric as his father’s lightning. “Really? . . . To whom?” Rai asked. Father was hiding something. His dark, stormy gaze, though limited to the one eye, was unwavering, but his breaths came fast as though anticipating something.
“I have arranged your betrothal to Nathaira.”
“Illujanka’s daughter? Why?”
Father looked out over the raging waves. “In marrying her, you will be able to request a boon from the Serpent—my heart and eye. You will bring honor and glory to our family. You know how we are mocked by the other gods. They would not dare laugh after I am restored.”
Rai pursed his lips. A prickling feeling, like a warning, crawled up his back.
He did not want to marry Nathaira, daughter of the snake that had defeated his father and brought shame on their family . . . yet he wanted his father healthy again. So Rai pushed back the waves of foreboding, determined that in this he would do his father right.
“Of course. I will do as you desire,” Rai promised.
Father gave Rai a real smile, warming him despite the biting wind.
• • •
It was time. Vows had been spoken, and the ceremony was finally complete. Now all Rai had to do was slip away from the reception and speak to Illujanka alone.
Nathaira paused as Rai stood. His new wife had been eating quietly, though all around them were the sounds of people chattering and enjoying the banquet. That is, the first banquet. Proceedings celebrating their union would continue for up to two weeks, until the moon was half-full. It was good luck to be wed on the full moon, and Father and Illujanka hadn’t wanted anything to go wrong with the wedding. Now Nathaira spoke to him for the first time since they were wed, which must have been half an hour ago. “Rai? Isss . . . sssomething wrong?”
The slight hiss to her speech was reminiscent of her father, and it made Rai uncomfortable. Still, she was beautiful—not that he’d been paying attention to that. Dark hair cascaded down her back, half held back with a water lily clasp glinting with precious stones. Her eyes were narrow, with slitted pupils and long lashes. Other than her forked tongue, her strange eyes were the only thing bearing testimony to her Serpent form.
Rai swallowed. “No, nothing. I just wanted to speak with your father, if that’s all right?”
Nathaira frowned but pointed him in the direction of the table where their parents sat. Rhea, Rai’s mother, glanced over at them and smiled. Rai nodded back and slowly walked over to them, leaving his wife alone.
“My lord, may I speak with you in private for a moment?” Rai gave his father a hopefully-reassuring nod as Illujanka stood.
“Of coursse,” Illujanka said, looking at the people gathered around the table. “I’ll be right back.” He inclined his head to Ramman and followed Rai to a hallway outside the room, lined with marble pillars and statues decorated with flowers and coral for the wedding.
“What did you wissh to ssspeak of?” Illujanka asked.
Rai’s stomach twisted. Everything hinged on this one request.
Illujanka was in human form like his daughter, but he was more serpentine than she. With the same slitted eyes but dark scales creeping up his forearms, he also had a long cape draped around him, which appeared to be made out of snakeskin. Perhaps his own shed skin from his true form. But the Serpent’s black eyes were wide and kind.
Slick fists clenched, Rai closed his eyes a moment before asking, “I would like to request something from you. Something you took long ago, before I was born . . . .”
Illujanka nodded. “I thought it might come to thisss. You want your father’s eye and heart back?”
Rai exhaled. “Very much so, yes.”
For a moment Illujanka paused and studied him. His forked tongue flicked out of his mouth, once, twice. The Serpent did not blink. “Well then, as a welcome for you and your family coming into oursss, I will gift them to you. You may return them to your father as you dessire. But I fear it will not give you what you ssseek.”
Frowning, Rai asked, “What do you mean?”
Illujanka tilted his head, then shook it. “If you do not sssee it yet, I will not try to explain. But I will do as you assk.”
“Thank you, lord,” Rai replied, bowing and turning to return to Nathaira.
“Oh, and Rai?” Illujanka called.
Rai looked over his shoulder at his father-in-law.
“You may call me Illujanka.”
• • •
Some weeks later, Rai headed back home. Illujanka had thought it best to wait for the celebratory proceedings to end before Rai returned his father’s eye and heart, and Rai had agreed to wait. Now Rai’s anticipation had curdled in his stomach. If he was honest, he had enjoyed the past couple weeks with Nathaira and her parents. Nathaira had a quiet wit he found appealing, and he found himself warming up to her as the days went by, despite his initial apprehension. Maybe the union wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Perhaps his father would finally be satisfied after he was hale and whole once more. Everything had to work out.
Shaking saltwater out of his hair, Rai rearranged his tunic and straightened his posture. His ship approached land. Moments later he was on the shore, ordering the two snakes pulling the ship to wait there for his return. His parents had departed Illujanka’s kingdom after the final banquet, and the parting look his father had given Rai still made him sick to think of. Father believed Rai had failed. Yet he hadn’t—he held the golden box with Ramman’s heart and eye at his side, determined to deliver them to his father without any more delay.
Soon he was being ushered into his father’s throne room.
Rai bowed as he approached.
“Rai! Why have you come here?” the familiar voice boomed, darker and angrier than ever.
“I know you think I failed. But I did not, Father. I have brought you your eye and your heart. I hope . . . .” What did he hope? Rai wasn’t sure anymore as he brought out the golden box and presented it to his father. “I hope you . . .,” Are proud of me? He couldn’t say that. “Find them as strong as you did before.” Curses. That wasn’t what he was trying to say at all! But it would have to do. Rai looked down, stomach heavy.
Glancing up, Rai saw that his father had approached. His fingers hovered over the box. With a grin, he flipped it open.
In a rush of golden light as bright as a lightning bolt, with a sound like a thousand thunderclaps at once, Father collapsed to the ground. Rai gasped, dropping the box and rushing to his father’s side.
“Father? Are you alright?” Rai felt for a pulse.
A few tense seconds later, his father opened his eye—no, eyes. His golden eyepatch had smoldered away, and his left eye sparked bright silver, opposed to the dark gray of his right one. Bizarrely, Father started laughing. Rai had rarely even seen his father crack a smile, but his restoration seemed to bring back some joy that had been missing.
Refusing Rai’s outstretched hand, Father pushed himself to his feet. “I cannot believe Illujanka consented! The great fool!”
“Father—what?” Rai stepped closer, trying to grab his arm.
Before he could, Father disappeared in another flash.
Rai’s mother rushed into the room. “What happened? I heard . . . ,” her eyes darted from Rai standing alone to the golden box on the floor and back again. “Is he gone?” she whispered.
Nodding, Rai blurted out, “Yes—I don’t know what happened. One minute he was here, the next he wasn’t. I restored his heart and eye to him, and he was saying something about Illujanka. Do you think . . . ?”
Mother hesitated. “Yes. Your father has likely gone to kill him.”
Rai moved faster than he ever had, rushing out the door, past the guards who shouted questions at his racing form, and out to shore. The ship he had ridden was still stationed there.
“Go back! Now! We must hurry, or I fear something terrible will happen,” Rai yelled at the serpents. They plunged into the waves. Rai urged them faster and faster until they were darting through the water swiftly enough that fish around them turned to indistinguishable blurs.
As soon as the castle was in sight, Rai prepared to leap off the back of the ship. When they passed the first marble pillar, Rai jumped to the ground and sped to Illujanka’s throne room.
Nathaira stood behind her father, who faced Father, a black trident in hand.
“I beat you once, and I can do it again!” Illujanka yelled. “I grow weary of war, but if you threaten me or my family I will not hesssitate to end you!”
“You’ve gone soft, snake!” Father spat, glowing with energy. “Just as your powers are amplified by the water, so are mine. I will smite you where you stand!”
“No! Wait!” Rai exclaimed, rushing to Illujanka’s side. “Father! You can’t want this—Illujanka returned your eye and heart as a gesture of peace, and you have returned to make war? This isn’t right!”
Father laughed, “This Serpent stole everything from me! I am only returning the favor.”
Rai shook his head. “He didn’t take everything, Father. You still had your family! Your life! Your kingdom!”
Father’s eyes flashed. “Move aside. I’ll deal with you later. I will kill Illujanka. You cannot stop me.”
“If you’re going to kill him, you must kill me also!” Rai snapped. The Serpent had treated Rai as his own father had not. He was the one deserving of Rai’s loyalty. “Take me with them! Do not spare me. Kill me, and live to regret it.”
For a moment, he hesitated. Rai felt Nathaira grip his hand. Illujanka’s presence pressed against Rai’s other side as they stood together against his father.
“You have brought this on yourself,” Father thundered.
Rai shook his head by way of answer. The world was clearer to him than it had ever been before. Rai understood his father, and he was not afraid of him.
He closed his eyes, knowing that his father would do it, and yet praying he wouldn’t. Not for him alone, but for Nathaira and Illujanka. For his family.
A burst of light and crackling heat.
The world turned cold and dark until the only warmth left was Nathaira’s hand in his.


retelling of the Tale of Illujanka

daily 18/7/23 (https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/875582958/ was the inspo)

Rigby was having a wonderful day! After tedious hours of being chucked around by ruthless, hostile humans- ignorant to the very respectable life Rigby had lived thus far (by his standards, incredibly respectable)- the light at the end of the tunnel was finally in reach. Therefore, when a hand reached out and scooped Rigby away from his fellow rock friends, valuing his life over the rest of the hoard which bullied him for his insignificance every day, Rigby could feel nothing but undisputable joy.

He nuzzled into the hand of the one who had taken him, so they- energetic in motions- enclosed him immediately in the safe grasp of the wet wipe box (although, he wasn’t too keen on getting wet: he wanted to understand what it felt to be dry on a dry surface for once). Rigby was enthralled, relishing in his place at once.

The new footing was a nice break from the abysmal, dreary, all-too-familiar sand particles that he had been so accustomed to. The new wet wipe box was a pastel green, with teal hints closer to the front, and a subdued, lime-yellow in the back, in which he had an equal share of both- because he deserved it: as a rock, he believed to always be entitled to rest on as much as he pleased, not that boring sand he wished could just dissipate. Therefore, this- to him- was luxury.

He was a rock which deserved all luxuries that couldn’t be denied. He had surpassed his numerous cousins in mien and austerity years before, priding himself as being the perfectly shaped gentleman he is, after receiving the beauty genes from the estranged aunt he loved so much. His brown outline, his coarse body, his eroded back- it was everything a rock wished for in their appearance. Ridby, however, had all of it. Therefore, his life goal was to make his beauty known.

Alas, he had been given the fruits of his oh-so-beautiful countenance in the form of the grasp of a hand- henceforth winning in life by a landslide. Now, he had a worth even greater than the sun and its radiance- the waves and its crashing laughter- the stars and their solitude… he was loved!

He observed his surroundings once more. That hand was warm, but the box was colder. Wait, had he been betrayed? Was the beauty just out of his reach? Had he been neglected? Oh heavens, his aunt won’t like this…

Rigby scoffed, shrivelling into his place, as the distant waves laughed at his futile position while he waited for something to happen, just when everything was starting to look up.

Pitiful sight!

July 18-19, 2023
The picture I chose was of a collection of papers, with a few other miscellaneous things littered around.

I close my eyes and let the blast of cool air from the AC overtake me. My head is beginning to ache from straining my eyes so much. I glance back at my computer and sigh. Only seven more problems to go. I just had to focus.

As it turns out, focusing is extremely hard. Especially when it’s nearing 12 and you have a constant influx of random thoughts flowing through your brain. The stress of the looming assignment also doesn’t help.

I peek one eye open but close it once more. If only doing math problems was as enjoyable as drawing or playing guitar. With math, you always have to follow some rule or use some theorem. It’s just blatant memorization.

When I close my eyes, far away, I can see fluffy pastel clouds in an assortment of colors. Pepperminty sweets that melt in your mouth that leave you wanting more. I’m sitting in a field of fluffy grass that smells of some unidentifiable freshness, sketching under a shady tree. The atmosphere is shifting to autumn, bringing along perfectly chilly breezes and mild temperatures.

I chew on the back of my pencil, debating on what to draw. I have about four different comics that remain unfinished and unworked on for a few weeks, but I have little motivation to work on those. In the end I pull out my books and read instead.

A meow calls my attention and I glance up to see a handsome white cat with black patches. “Hello, Lila,” I say warmly. “Have you come to join me?”

The cat purrs and curls up against my arm. “Lila,” I scold, amused. “You’re covering a part of my book!” I roll over and take in the sky once more. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

I jerk my eyes upon again, suddenly aware of the assignment I have yet to finish. The dark shadows of my room are a stark contrast to the vibrant sky of color I was previously under, save for the blue light of my laptop. I know it’s made for my eyes, but that’s not a concern I have right now.

I examine my paper and frown. The numbers slide straight through my head, forming a mush of unappetizing soup. I find myself losing track of the math I do in my head and starting over.

Perhaps the night was finally catching up to me. I take a moment to stretch and pick up my pencil.

The night drags on.

415 words

Weekly 3
~~~~~
Part 1:
For my action story, I could have the main character and two friends desperately trying to catch their exam. Then the walls begin to crumble and the buildings begin to fall apart. The main character and their friends are forced to find shelter. In the end they rejoice in the fact that all of them are safe and they made it through such a scary experience together. Plus they don’t need to take the exam. The story starts off with the main character and their friends discussing the upcoming exam and how nervous they are. They rush to school on the subway and there is some backstory for the main character explained. Then in the rising action the group experiences signs of an earthquake of sorts but continue with their days. The walls begin to crumble. In the climax the group seeks shelter and helps others. In the conclusion they return home safely and possibly show the next days.

159 words
~~~~~
Part 2:
“Ugh, I’ve been dreading this day for a while,” Erica sighed as she swept her hair into a high ponytail. She turned around, examining her hair and smoothing out any rough bits.

“Aren’t we all,” I replied solemnly. I pulled on an oversized sweater to help with the really intense air conditioning and entered the kitchen.

Our apartment was your typical apartment, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Megan got a bathroom—the smaller one to herself since she was the one who actually owned the apartment. The kitchen was small, but manageable, and the living room was almost nonexistent, but we mostly kept to our own rooms anyway.

I shuffled through the dark oaky cabinets and retrieved a bag of black tea, before retrieving some toast and sliding it into our toaster. Megan came rushing into the kitchen while trying to put on her jacket and paused near the countertop. “Do you mind brewing me a tea too? I still haven’t put on my makeup.”

“Sure thing Megs,” I replied, “but hurry up, or we’ll risk being late.”

Erica, Megan, and I were all majoring in Environmental Science. And that was how we all met as well. Today was one of the days where we all had the same exam.

Ecology and Conservation wasn’t difficult per say, but Mr. Geller was notorious for giving difficult exams, and I did not want to waste my good grades that I had worked hard for all semester. After a few more minutes of hectic getting ready and rushing around the apartment, I urged everybody out the door.

I snacked on my toast as we trekked to the subway station only a few blocks away from our apartment. Normally, a singular toast would not be enough to fill my appetite in the morning, but I suspected I wouldn’t be able to stomach more due to nerves.

I sipped my tea while stepping onto the subway, just barely on time to get to class. Tea always worked wonders, sending boosts of energy through me and re-energizing my brain. I had prepared for this exam. I had always did well when it came to classwork. I was going to be fine.

Everything was going to be fine.

371 words
~~~~~
Part 3:
The chilly Boston air made my eyes dry as we were entering the colder months. The general science building was all the way across from where we were, giving us a long winding path to walk. Students meandered around campus; somewhere discussing exam answers, others were doing last minute cramming. I checked my watch. 7:51. We had nine minutes to get to class. That was plenty of time.

As we neared the main library on campus, I noticed a particularly large group of students blocking our way onward. Was there a stray cat? That usually piqued people’s interests.

“I swear they did this on purpose.” Someone was talking to their friend. “They’re trying to see who are the more responsible students that are early and who aren’t.”

“Do you really think so?” their friend replied in a skeptical voice. “That seems a little bit manipulative. It sounds improbable.”

“What’s going on?” Erica asked, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Megan arched her head upwards and gasped. She was the tallest out of the three of us.

“They blocked off the pathway,” she said. “It’s under renovation or something.”

“How are we going to get to class?” I asked, panic setting in.

“We have to take the long route,” Megan replied. “Hurry, or we’ll be late!”

We turned tail and ran back the way we came, earning us a few curious looks from those passing by. None of us were particularly athletic, but I believe some inner Olympic track runner awakened in me when the fate of an exam came into play. The stitch in my side barely crossed my mind as it was quickly replaced with sheer determination.

We approached the general science with two minutes to spare and puddles of sweat. I was suddenly grateful for the chilly air this morning, and was suddenly ungrateful that I had eaten so little.

At this point I was certain I was going to be very sore tomorrow, and practically dragged my feet up the last fleet of stairs to the hall where our class was. The three of us were too tired to speak, so we silently speed walked instead. It was the last stretch.

“We’re here, professor!” I half gasped when I arrived at the door frame.

Mr. Geller opened his mouth in reply, but was cut off by a small tremor through the air. Then another one, but more intense.

I heard a large splintering sound to my left and gasped. A network of cracks snaked along the doorframe and adjacent wall, forming a spider web of dark tendrils. The ground began to tremble beneath me, causing my legs to feel weak. With every tremble came more cracks. Loud, aggressive; forming sloping lines that seemed to sneer and smile at us.

New faults appeared by the second, interlocking into holes and viciously eating up the white tiled floor. We stood in silence and fear, frozen in time and watching with horror as the classroom crumbled around us.

502 words
~~~~~
Part 4:
I felt a crack under my foot and yelped, scared the ground was going to open up and swallow me. That sound seemed to set off a catalyst of events. Everyone came to their senses and began screaming, aiming for the door. Whatever thoughts about the exam that occupied their minds quickly diminished under the pretense of apparent doom.

“What’s going on?” Megan cried, retreating further down the hall towards where the cracks regressed. Though they were quickly spreading throughout the entire building. Students from other classes had begun to run out into the hallway, creating a hectic and loud traffic jam.

Dust began to shower us from the ceiling, making me cough and clouding my vision. I could feel my heart restricting. We needed to get out of here.

“Everyone! We need to leave!” I called, gasping through the dense air. I grabbed Erica and Megan by the hands and ran, trying to ignore how out of breath I already was from the running I had done earlier.

The morning sun hit our eyes just as I heard a deep rumble from behind us. I snuck a glance over my shoulder just in time to see the wall covering the entrance crumble into a collection of concrete and dust, culminating into a small mountain of off white boulders. I could hear screams of surprise and terror from behind the rubble as the exit was now blocked off. Followed quickly by a horrible screeching sound, as a portion of the roof broke off and scattered among the debris. Sprinkles to an already food poison inducing cake.

I was mere seconds away from being crushed by rubble. The revelation sent icy waves through my veins that latched onto my heart. We were in genuine danger.

A strong tug on my arm brought me back to my senses. “Let’s go!” Erica urged me. The anxiety in her voice reminded me of the situation we were in, and we continued to run. The pounding in my chest and blood rushing through my ears was enough to distract me from the sound of the general science building falling apart.

We began to slow down as we exited the campus, seeking shelter in a local convenience store. I released Erica and Megan’s hands, not realizing that I had been gripping them so tightly before. Megan looked as if she was about to cry. I was too stunned to feel any emotion.

“We’re all alright,” I half whispered, my heart finally slowing down. Feeling began to return to my legs and arms. “We made it out together.”

Erica pulled us in for a hug as I felt tears forming in the corner of my vision. We all cried in each other’s arms until the cops came.

460 words
~~~~~
Part 5:

Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t that long before the police found us. Perhaps time had just flown by really quickly for me. They evacuated us to the nearest police station at which we had to wait until we had the all clear to go home. All exams were canceled for the safety of the students.

We were fortunate enough to not have any deaths. The police told us that all the major injuries were healable with time. Erica, Megan, and I weren’t hurt, so we got to go home before everyone else.

The next few hours I lived in a blur. The three of us were silent the rest of the night. Classes were canceled for the next week due to people inspecting the rest of the buildings, so we lived in an indefinite blur, studying for the exams that we had yet to take. It was almost therapeutic in a way. I was so engrossed in my studies I just refused to let myself think about what happened that day.

The police were still trying to figure out why the general science building collapsed. Tests show that there were no signs of any faults or major problems with the foundation. The miscellaneous earthquake also went on unexplained. The media chalked it up to a mystery, and quickly moved on. It left an unsettling feeling in my chest. But I didn’t bother to think about the situation for too long.

It was best to just move on.

At the end of the day, we didn’t have to take our Ecology and Conservation exam, though whether for a fair price I was skeptical. Still, I was hopeful for the future. Things had to get better with time. And if they didn’t, well, I would figure that out when the time came. For now I was content just living life however it happened to play out.

313 words
1805 words overall

7/19/2023
- image
- amount: 452

it was an avocado. an it, not a him or a her. it was an object, not living or breathing. it could not think; it could not speak.

and then, and then, and then, the human had placed it on their book. the human had thought nothing of it—just another mindless decision in the vast expanse of a day.

but the universe works in mysterious ways. you’ll never know what will happen, what people will say, or what people will do. freak accidents, unnatural luck, a red string of fate pulling two star-crossed lovers together. wars occur within the blink of an eye, famine sweeps over a once prosperous paradise. a hero steps up and kills the villain in cold blood to stop the encroaching darkness.

the avocado gains feelings.

it learns what love is, what pain is, and what limitless possibilities there are to be found in a day. it knows that it is an avocado, that a lamp gives light, that it can see and smell and sense.

it thinks and thinks. it cannot stop its mind from whirling. it keeps going and going until it thinks it might black out. but objects cannot faint or swoon; they cannot die or live.

is this what it is like to be a human? it thinks.

it knows and understands that its position in the world is small and will be short-lived. soon the human will come back and peel its skin, eat its flesh, carve out its heart. it cannot move.

it will be stuck here for eternity if nothing moves it. it knows the wind will howl and scream, it knows the cat will move and push. but what interest will they pay for an avocado?

but it does not want to die.

it wants to explore the world and share its newfound knowledge with others. it yearns, it yearns for something greater, bigger, better.

this life was not meant for this small vessel. it knows that if it were born into a different world, in a different time, in a different body, it would’ve become a legend. it would’ve ruled continents, commanded legions with a single wave of a gloved hand, and ordered millions to be executed.

it wants. it hates. it despises fate and chance and destiny cursed it to be a lowly fruit with no other role except to be consumed. a sickening madness; insanity overcomes it. it wants to crush something, to watch something writhe under its grasp. it wants the world to understand its pain.

a hollow feeling sweeps over it. it knows nobody ever will.

the yellow lamp overhead swings round and round.

and then the feelings are gone.

it is an avocado again.

Once upon a time, in the quaint little town of Marbleshire, there lived a group of marbles that were unlike any others. These marbles were not just ordinary glass spheres; they were alive! They possessed the magical ability to hop and skip, and their favorite game was hopscotch.

The marbles in Marbleshire loved to challenge each other to hopscotch matches, but these contests were no ordinary games. Instead of using a stone to mark their jumps, they used a rare and precious bead. The marbles collected these beads from all corners of the world, each one unique and beautiful, making the competition even more thrilling.

The leader of the marbles was a brave and skilled marble named Jasper. He had a remarkable collection of beads gathered from countless victories in hopscotch challenges. Every marble in Marbleshire dreamt of surpassing Jasper's collection, but it was no easy feat. He seemed unbeatable, hopping from square to square with unrivaled finesse.

One sunny morning, as the marbles gathered at their favorite hopscotch court, a new marble named Luna arrived. She was different from the others, with a rare glimmer in her core that drew everyone's attention. Luna expressed her desire to join the hopscotch challenge and compete for the coveted title of the Bead Master.

Intrigued by Luna's uniqueness, Jasper welcomed her into the game. The challenge commenced, and the marbles hopped joyfully, their glass surfaces glistening under the golden sun. Luna proved to be a remarkable competitor, surprising everyone with her agility and grace. Round after round, she collected more beads than anyone had ever seen.

As the game progressed, news of the remarkable hopscotch challenge spread throughout the town. Curious bystanders began to gather around the court, watching in awe as the marbles leaped and played. But they were warned not to interfere with the game, for there was a strange and ancient legend associated with the magical beads.

Legend had it that if a person laid eyes upon the hopscotch challenge and witnessed the marbles playing with the enchanted beads, they would turn into a marble themselves. The townsfolk were filled with wonder and fear, watching from a distance, unable to tear their eyes away from the enthralling game.

Luna and Jasper reached the final round of the challenge, both having impressive collections of beads. The air crackled with excitement as they hopped one last time to determine the ultimate winner. With a graceful leap, Luna completed the final hopscotch pattern and won the title of the Bead Master.

As Luna celebrated her victory, a hushed silence fell upon the gathered crowd. One brave and curious soul couldn't resist getting closer to witness the extraordinary event. In a matter of seconds, they transformed into a vibrant, shimmering marble, joining the magical world of Marbleshire forever.

And so, Luna became the new leader of the marbles, carrying on the tradition of the hopscotch challenge and adding more beads to her ever-growing collection. Marbleshire remained a place of wonder and enchantment, where the marbles played hopscotch with their precious beads, and the legend of the magical transformation continued to live on.


519 words

Weekly #3
7/19-23/2023
1569 words

Part One:
To begin, you will be required to do some basic story planning. Visit this amazing workshop on structure by Birdi (https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/479806014/) for help. In this part, outline the fundamentals of your story, including the characters, the setting, the main plot points, as well as the ending in 150 words or more. Ask the main cabin for writing prompts if you're having trouble coming up with ideas. This part of the weekly does not require any proof.

159 words

Set up:
Stella, Winston, and Charlie are playing a game of hide and seek. Stella and Charlie have gone off to hide and Winston is the seeker.
Beginning:
Winston counting down and starts to seek during a game of hide and seek. He's playing with Stella and Charlie. It's around mid-day and he's in a building. He finds Stella easily and they go to find Charlie.
Middle:
Switch to Charlie's POV and she's in one of the caves and no one knows. Stella and Winston can't seem to find Charlie and they start to get worried. Charlie tries getting out of the cave, but she loses her footing and is in the dark.
Ending:
Stella and Winston go around, asking if anyone has seen Charlie. On a whim, they go to the beach and walk around. Eventually, they hear Charlie's cries and free her from the cave. Everyone gets safely back to the building and the game is over.

Part Two:

Hopefully you’re feeling inspired to get started writing! The first part of your long piece will be the introduction. You should aim to write 300 words towards this part of the story.

309 words

“Ready or not, here I come!” Winston announces, lowering his hands that were covering his face. He steps out from the closet and peeks out the door.
“We agreed that no one can hide inside, so my best bet is to find Stella first.”
He walks out the glass doors and begins to look around, looking for anything that may be out of order. His eye catches a spot of bright pink. Winston creeps closer to the rose bushes, thinking that he's found Stella.
“Aha!” Winston yells, sliding around them. His face falls when he sees a mannequin and Stella's pink bows. “She loves decoys, I should have known that would be too easy,” he grumbles, “Where is she?”
He hops up and surveys the land. The three of them had agreed to stay within the north side of the island, which was a lot of land to cover. The beach, the caves, the gardens, and the land in between. Stella probably didn't get too far.
“Stella, where are you?” Winston sing-songs, jogging through the gardens, stopping every few feet to glance around at his surroundings.
A grunt comes from above and Winston stares at the tree branches overhead. There! One of Stella's sparkly shoes.
He shakes his head, laughing, “Stella, I see you! Get down before you injure yourself.”
“Couldn't you have found me sooner?” Stella groans, the leaves shaking as she maneuvers her way out of the branches. “I -ugh- have been here -umph- for so long. Finally!” She hops down. “Solid ground, at last!”
“Ready to help me find Charlie?” Winston asks, playfully.
Stella glares at him. “You know that she's going to have the most unbelievable hiding spot and it's probably going to take at least half an hour.”
“I'll take that as a yes,” Winston smirks, dragging Stella by her arm, despite her protests.

Part Three:

For the next step in the process, we need to introduce a conflict to your story. This is going to be what propels the entire plot into action. It could be that a character is given a dangerous quest, or a valuable object disappears, or anything else you can come up with - but whatever you decide on will shape the rising action and eventually lead to the climax. Use Gigi’s character motivations workshop to help you think about your characters’ motivations and how that might help create or influence the conflict: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/555257/ Write at least 400 words of your story’s rising action, and make sure you get ready for the climax!

401 words

“This is the best hiding spot; they'll take a while to find me,” Charlie gloats, making her way into the caves. “I hope I'm not too good of a hider…”
She navigates the stalagmites and walks into the darkness looming. Charlie reaches into her jean pocket, pulling free with a small flashlight in her hands. “This should do it.” A steady stream of blue light fills the cave, shining off the water on the rocks.
She continues to go deeper and eventually stops when she sees a particularly large stalagmite to hide behind. Charlie walks around it, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head as she examines the size. Charlie quickly ducks behind it as she sees two figures walking on the beach.
As she slips behind the stalagmite, Charlie fails to see the puddle and slips. She lands in the puddle and her ankle throbs. “Ugh! Umph.” She flicks her head up, only to see the two figures walking further away. “No!” she groans, “Guys, I'm here…”

Winston and Stella have been walking around the island for a while. They searched through the gardens again, even though Stella told Winston that she didn't see Charlie while she was up in the tree. He had insisted on making sure. They walked all around on the beach. As much as she loves the beach, Stella can't stand the heat and walking around on it is not her favorite activity. She would much rather be in the waves. Even so, they didn't find Charlie there and she wasn't expecting to do a lot of walking in the sun. Stella was pretty sure that she got sunburnt, ugh.
“Winston,” Stella whines, “when are we going to find Charlie or give up?” They're walking back up to the building to cool off.
Winston doesn't glance at her as he responds, “We'll refresh ourselves and check where we haven't looked. That's the game plan. We'll find her somehow, sometime. It's unusual that it would take this long for us to find her, but she's always been good.”
Stella nods, knowing that this was one thing that she couldn't argue about. He was the better seeker and Charlie was the better hider. She could just follow along and hope that everyone stayed safe, even if she's joked otherwise.
“I'll get the map; there are two areas that I want to check,” she replies, “I hope she's alright.”

Part Four:

You’ve reached the climax of your narrative, and it’s finally time for some ACTION. Whether your hero is fighting a monster or secretly rushing through homework before the end of class, this moment has to have tension, drama and excitement. Write at least 300 words, and enjoy watching everything you previously set up pay off!

301 words

Charlie clings to her right ankle, seething as the waves of pain radiated. “I sure hope that those two come back soon,” she grimaces, running one hand through her damp hair, “I can only handle this for so long.”
She sits there in the dark, waiting for someone or something to happen. The darkness answers with hollow echoes, sending a trail of goosebumps down her spine. Charlie's body shivers in response.
Tired of sitting around, she starts to get up, one hand steady on the stalagmite, and shifts her weight over to her left foot. “I can do this,” Charlie reminds herself. She slowly limps over to the cave wall, holding her right side up with stalagmites and particularly long stalactites along the way. She leans on the wall, staring at the light fading from the cave opening, as hints of sunset speckle the sky. It was going to take a while to get out.

“Hurry up!” Stella orders, racing out of the building and heading for the beach. “I'm sure she's in the cave, come on Winston!” They had looked over the map and Stella reasoned that Charlie would most likely be hiding in the cave, with almost limitless possibilities, than the park, which is great, but doesn't have many options for hiding places. Stella learned that firsthand a while back; there was no way that Charlie would pick that as her next legendary hiding spot.
Winston stumbles after her, two flashlights in hand. “If we're going to be looking for her in a cave, we have to have proper equipment. The sun's going down as well. We better find her soon.”
Stella pauses momentarily to snatch a flashlight out of Winston's hand and continues to sprint towards the beach. They take a sharp right turn, right towards the caves.

Part Five:

In the final part of this construction weekly, you need to write a conclusion towards your story. Feel free to refer to the framework you did in part one of this weekly if you like. Using your framework and planning from part one, draft out a 250 word ending for your story. Good luck!

397 words

Charlie inches closer to the cave entrance, taking frequent breaks to ease the pressure on her left leg and making sure that she wasn't injuring her right ankle more in the process. She's tired, most likely filthy, sweaty, and wants to get to a properly air conditioned room. Getting her ankle checked out is close to the top of her mental to-do list. Right next to getting a mango boba.
The sky is bright with hues of orange, magenta, and blurs of purple. While the view was gorgeous, Charlie does not want to spend her night out her. She dusts her hands off before slowly getting back up. She was going to get out of here before night falls.

Stella reaches the cave before he does. Winston bends over, resting his hands on his legs, wheezing. Stella isn't usually the athlete, but she always gets what she wants. Even if it is running to the cave as soon as possible. He takes a deep breath as he gets back up, just in time to see Stella flick her flashlight on.
“We're going in!” she announces, taking her first step in. “Charlie? Charlie, please tell me you're in here.”
Winston quickly follows suite, turning his flashlight on and inspects the cave. His flashlight catches on a figure to the left wall. “Charlie!”
She weakly raises her left arm in greeting. “Hey.” Charlie takes a step forward on her right leg, but quickly pulls back, her face twisting in pain.
They rush over to her. “What's wrong; did you injure your leg?” Stella asks, concern flooding her face.
“Something's wrong with my ankle; it's broken or something,” Charlie informs, giving a half-hearted smile.
“Come on, Charlie.” Winston extends a hand and takes her arm over one of his shoulders. “Stella, take her right side.”
They make their way out of the cave and collapse onto a bench nearby. The three of them sit, silently watching the sunset.
Winston breaks the silence first. “Just to be clear,” he says, looking over at the two girls, “No more hiding in the cave and we'll head back and find doctor for you as soon as we can.”
“Sounds good to me, but-” Charlie starts before Stella cuts her off.
“We'll get you your mango boba; don't worry about it,” Stella waves her request away.
Charlie smiles. “Okay then. Everything sounds good.”
“Good.”

Short story for the 3rd Weekly (Go Poetry!!!)
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The Void

Witches were hated in Mila’s day, but not the way they were in Salem. They were hated with envy and jealous reverence. Burning a witch would have been the highest crime you could commit, next to insulting one.
Mila remembered reading about those savage ages from her books. She wondered what it would feel like to be burned. To be condemned to an eternal fate of despair by people who knew nothing about you, who only saw you from the outside. She wished she could go to school and learn more about the witch trials, but she could not. The only school she had ever gone to had been an awful boarding school, and she had spent most of the time in detention. ​​
They didn’t believe in witches there.
She couldn’t really remember why, but she had been expelled. Something bad. Had she hurt someone? Mila didn’t want to believe it, so she shook her head when the thought occurred to her.
Of course not. I wouldn’t hurt anyone. I’m… good.
But after that, her mother wasn’t around much. There were more and more bottles on the floors, and eventually Mila was told to stop asking to go back to school.
I wish I could take care of myself, she thought. I could do whatever I wanted.
‎‏‏Mila discovered that she was a witch while eating dinner with her brother. They were sword-fighting with their forks when his accidentally pierced her left eyeball. He yelped and jerked his arm back, pulling it out, nerves and all. With a panicked shriek, Mila snatched it off his fork and shoved it right back into the socket. She blinked once, then twice, and… it was completely fine. She sighed in relief, readying her sword to fight again– but her brother stared at her in horror, and never spoke to her again.
I’m a witch.
She lay on her bed that night, tossing and turning. Then she sat upright, a smile tugging the corners of her mouth. This was it. She could leave now: she had magic, and could take care of herself. Her wish had been answered.
‎‏‏Mila left her house the next day, treading gladly over the broken glass that littered the living room floor. With bare feet, she stepped over her mother, laying face down on the floor with a bottle in her hand. “I’m a witch, Mum, I’ll be leaving now,” was all she said on her way out.
‎‏‏Her first thought was to find another witch, perhaps, to mentor her. But Mila hated being told what to do by people who didn’t actually know what they were talking about. Instead, she decided to walk to the nearest forest and begin practicing. She would start by building herself a new home, with no weak little brothers, no drunkard mothers, and no fathers. The last one wouldn’t really make a difference.
This is how Mila came to be sitting in a well-structured tree house in the middle of the woods, removing and replacing her eyeballs just to see if she could, molding leaves into wooden dolls, and summoning mushrooms and rocks and dew from the ground below to make a luscious, sweet smelling pot of stew for her first supper as a goddess.
For a moment, Mila believed that she saw her mother’s face in the stew, shaped by floating mushrooms and other vegetables. She even had those rings under her eyes, making her look unfocused and angry. The way that she looked when she yelled, telling Mila what to do when she herself had no sober bearings.
Mila stirred the pot, washing away the face. She stuck out her tongue.
“I can do anything I’d like,” she said.
But there was no one to hear her.‎‏‏
Mila knew that everyone would both love and hate her if she declared to the world what she was. They would fear and respect her, but they would do so from a distance. They would speak ill behind her back, and invent terrible stories about what evil she had done. They would say she had put a muting spell on her brother. They would say she had sent her mother to sleep, putting her in a permanent coma. They would say that she had wished the man who had given her half of her DNA would die a most painful death, knowing that it was sure to come true. They would say it was all her fault, that the world would burn on her command.
These thoughts circled her brain in a whirlwind. The people were already in there, whispering and lying. More and more faces appeared in her mind. They glared. Pointed. Accused.
You’re a witch.
You’ve done a terrible thing.
You hurt your family.
Witch!
‎‏‏While Mila sipped her supper, she lifted the dolls into the air, making them spin around and sing “Ring Around the Rosie.” She hummed along, then dropped them into the pot of boiling stew when they all fell down.
The voices stopped.
“I didn’t do it,” she whispered. She smiled. “I am a witch. But I’m a good one.”
Mila could feel the power inside of her. Her head felt like a handful of outerspace had been fisted and shoveled into her ears, creating a vacuum of dust and stars to charge her brain, to unravel every thread, and refold it to reveal a masterpiece.
She lay on the floor of the treehouse and stared up at the real stars. The constellations above seemed to twist into the shape of her brother’s terrified and mocking face. He stared down at her in disgust, as though she were something pitiful. A pest. Mila howled in indignation and threw her arm upwards to the sky, pushing away the stars so that she would be alone. They obeyed her command and parted above, leaving her in full darkness.
“Dinner’s over,” she said softly, snapping her fingers. The stew and dolls disappeared, replaced by a soft blanket that was colored the same dark green as the trees above her.
‎‏‏As she wrapped the blanket around her, something tugged at her soul, tensing her chest and freezing her lungs. Something was wrong. A threat was floating around in the void that was now her mind.
When she closed her eyes to sleep, dreams assaulted her with fear and horror. There was someone waiting to judge her deeds. There was a presence, emanating throughout the vacuum of space, and they were about to show their face.
‎‏‏But instead of seeing her brother, her mother, her father, or every accusing face that had come to gaze upon her, she saw herself. She was refracted through a dome of mirrors; Mila, Mila, Mila, Mila, Mila, Mila, Mila, Mila. She was everywhere.
There was no one to hear her cry. No one to watch as the glass shattered and the dome caved in on her, cutting her open and drawing her blood. To watch as she became tangled in her own guts, wrapping around her like a boa constrictor.
“You did it, Mila,” she said, echoing across the void.
“I didn’t,” she protested.
“You did!”

‎‏‏When she woke up, Mila believed that she was dead. They had burned her, like the witches of older days. They hadn’t cared that she was powerful and beautiful. They couldn’t understand why she had done those things to her family. That she was only trying to save herself.
Her eyes opened, and the sky was bright with an orange sun, dulled by pollution and the fumes of a thousand failed brews and spells. She breathed in sharply, and understood. No one could judge Mila but herself. And she had judged herself to h*ll.

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(I don't wanna get muted lol). I wrote this story to be interpreted both literally and metaphorically, and aimed for a mainly internal-conflict plot rather than external action. Thanks for reading it if you did!
<3 Reeds

please critique this. this is part of a novel I'm working on. I can';t share it on scratch but I think this should be fine. warning though, there is a dr*wning attempt and bullying


The clouds felt like they were just out of reach as I stood on my tiptoes on top of the hill. I felt like I could almost grab them like big fluffy flowers to bring to my mother who lay sick in bed. “Evangeline! See how close I am to touching them?” I exclaimed to my nursemaid, an unmarried woman of twenty who helped my aunt with chores around the house and also took care of me.
I was almost seven years old, and probably too old for a nursemaid, but I loved Evangeline. She laughed and I liked the nice way her eyes crinkled up. Most adults thought children were annoying. “I think you might be a little too short. You’ll be taller when you’re older.”
I kicked off my sandals and ran over to a tree. “Well I’m not waiting until I get taller,” and I began to climb. Closer and closer to the sky, and when I got there I would reach up and break off a piece of that blue sky and give it to my mother.
♣
In the clouds I saw friendly smiling faces, but they were not my only friends. I’d made it my mission to befriend every single animal in all of Athens and the wilderness around it. Summer was gone and the coolness of Autumn was coming, but no matter how much my aunt insisted I wear sandals, I still preferred to go barefoot. It was easier to scramble on the rocks near the pond when I was barefoot anyway. I jumped onto the rock where the frog was, but by the time I landed it had already landed in the algae covered water. “Come on, little frog,” I coaxed. “Be my friend.” The frog swam away. I sat on the rock, with a little huff of annoyance, letting my bare feet dangle in the water. The sensation was a little gross but I didn’t mind. Aunt Kassandra might mind but I would just wipe my feet before going home.
“Hey! Bird-boy!” a boy somewhere behind me shouted. I turned to see Darius, the nine-year-old son of a rhetorician who lived just a few houses down from ours. He was accompanied by several of his goons. I recognized Akadios, Metrobius, and Timoleon, but I didn’t recognize the skinny, rat-like boy with dusky brown hair and beady black eyes.
I started to get to my feet, but before I could, Metrobius pushed me into the pond. “Freak!” The pond wasn’t very deep, but I was small and my head went under. Luckily I held my breath before I went under. I tried to resurface, but a surge of panic filled me when I realized I was being held down underwater. My lungs burned from the effort of holding my breath and finally I could hold it no longer. I inhaled the muddy water which just made me cough and splutter as I kicked desperately trying to free myself. The water in my ears muffled their jeers, but I thought they were making fun of me for how weird my father and I were and how my mother was dead.
Just when I thought I would pass out, I heard someone shout, “Hey! Get away from him!” The weight of the boys holding me down was suddenly pushed off me and a hand grabbed me by the back of my tunic and hauled me out of the water. When I had finally coughed up all the water and lay on the ground gasping for air, I saw who my rescuer was. An eleven-year-old boy with crow-black hair like mine, though his was straighter and much-less unkempt. It was also cut short because he had reached puberty. “Thanks P-Perdix,” I said, teeth chattering a little.
“What, you have to get rescued?” Darius jeered. “Aren’t you the son of Daedalus the genius, you should have just invented a way out.”
“Oh wait, you don’t have any talents,” Timoleon said. “Your father thinks you’re worthless, that’s why Perdix is his apprentice and not you.”
I felt the air leave my lungs. My eyes widened and filled with tears.
“Get out of here,” Perdix said sternly to the bullies. “You four are lucky he didn’t die.” By some miracle they actually did leave, though as they did I heard them laughing and joking about me. “Are you okay?” Perdix asked me, and I nodded a little. Then I ran off toward home before he could catch me crying. Perdix may have been taller, but I had always been faster. Evangeline said that the wind must be a part of me.
My father was a genius, famed in Athens and many of the city-states. I was just his dumb, too small son who had inherited none of his talents and barely ever fit in with other people. Was Timoleon right? Did he think I was worthless? He hardly ever had any time for me now that Perdix was his apprentice, and when he did, all he seemed to do was criticize me. It had been better when mother was alive, but now it had been over six months since the sickness she’d had for as long as I could remember had finally taken her to Hades.
I was too old to be held, and if Darius and his friends knew they would only bully me more, but as soon as I got home, I flung myself crying into Evangeline’s arms. My father wasn’t home, otherwise he would have told me to toughen up and be a man. Evangeline stroked my hair and kissed my head. “There, there Ikaros, it’s alright. You’re okay,” she murmured. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She set me down and filled our small tub with some water since I was too young to go to the public baths, then she helped me out of my dirty tunic and washed me.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” she asked as she scrubbed my hair.
“No thank you,” I said softly. But a second later, I asked, “Why don’t I fit in with the other boys?”
“You might not fit in with other boys too well, but I’ve seen you with the birds and animals. You have a bigger heart than all those other boys put together Ikaros. I don’t think you should want to be like them. I want you to stay my sweet little Ikaros.”
I smiled a little, but then I scowled. “I’m seven, Evangeline. I’m starting school tomorrow. I have to learn to fit in, I’m not a baby anymore.”
“Lift your foot a little.” I did as she instructed so she could clean the grime from between my toes. “You know, Ikaros, being loving doesn’t make you weak. We’re in Athens, a city of creation not destruction.”
“I can’t create things. I’m not smart like my father,” I said, looking down and sniffling.
“Do you think that makes you any less special?”
I nodded. “I’m not strong and I’m not smart.”
“But you have the biggest heart of anyone I know, and that is very special.”
♣

I sat on my bed that night with my knees hugged to my chest. I was too nervous to sleep because in the morning I would officially start school. What if all the other boys were just as mean as Darius, or worse? What if I forgot my lessons and the school master beat me? What if he too laughed because the genius Daedalus had a son who was nowhere near as smart as him. I picked up the jointed wolf toy that my father had made for me when I was small. I called it Elpis. “You need a pack, don’t you Elpis? It’s not good for you or me to be lonely. Do you think I’ll make any friends at school?”
I heard a soft knocking on the wall and looked up to see Perdix. “Mind if I join you?” I scooted over so he could sit next to me on the bed. “Are you nervous about starting school?”
I nodded, chewing my fingernails. “I’m not smart like you and my father. They’ll think I’m just a disappointment.”
“That’s not true. You just have a different type of smartness. I’ve seen the way you learn from nature.” he ruffled my hair. “For example, apparently your head has learned to look like a sheep.”
I giggled and pushed him away. “Stop that.”
“Stop what? I bet you barely felt it. You have so much hair. What are you hiding in there? A bird nest?”
Perdix was always good at cheering me up. I laughed. “Two. One finch and one sparrow.”
He nodded, doing a silly impression of a very distinguished and smart man. “Ah of course. As one does.”
“I wish I didn’t have to fit in with people. I just wanna live in the woooodssss,” I whined stretching out the last word.
Perdix chuckled. “Get some sleep. You don’t want to fall asleep in the middle of school tomorrow. That would be really embarrassing.”
My stomach still felt queasy at the idea of starting school, but I forced myself to lay down and tried to sleep. I ended up staying awake for at least another hour, as terrifying visions of what the school master might be like filled my mind.

bidaily 18-19 - weird image
i used @forestpanther’s picture of harmonicas, paper, crystals, and a briefcase on a rooftop
word count: 447

By the time the man got out of work the sun had already begun to set, emitting brilliant rays of yellow, orange, and pink light that reflected off of the crystalline trees that lined the streets. As he walked towards his house, he picked a few of the trees’ crystals that had begun to open–three, to be exact–and held them in his hand, admiring their colorful beauty, before gently putting them into a padded pocket of his briefcase. He walked the rest of the way in silence, content to watch the sunset and the beautiful trees.
The man soon made it to his home, a small but quaint abode on the corner of two narrow streets, but decided that after a long day working behind a desk in a cramped room, it would do him better to wait a little longer before heading back inside. In the spur of the moment, he walked down his driveway to the point where his house’s roof was within reach of his hands. He swung his briefcase up onto the gray tiles, not caring if it broke or spilled out, and then proceeded to climb up himself, grabbing onto the edge and hoisting his body onto the roof.
The sunset was at its peak, bright and colorful beams of light streaming down the roads, and from the man’s high vantage point it was more beautiful than ever. He did not keep track of time, and what felt like several minutes was almost an hour—he was only shaken out of this reverie when he realized that his briefcase had opened, it’s contents fallen all over the roof. With his head still somewhat in the clouds, he sorted through the mess of objects, which mostly consisted of various papers relating to his business. Amidst these papers, however, he also found a group of objects that he had not remembered being in the case: eight dusty harmonicas, which had evidently not been used in a very long time.
Gingerly, the man picked one up, and it seemed to be urging him to play it as he raised it to his lips—knowledge of how all flooding back to him, along with an old melody he remembered. And, as the sky darkened, he began to play.
The tune was soft, serene, and beautiful; yet at the same time somehow haunting and nostalgic. It traveled through the cool night air, touching the crystal trees, the pristine houses, and the twinkling stars above. The man was not sure what this tune was, how he knew it, what he was even doing—but he knew that he had ended up there, on that night atop that roof, for a reason.

Bi-daily # 2:
Prompt used: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/875927965/ (provided by @tapdancer707)
word count - 480 words

Title: A Wish at Sea

Looking back, I knew this was it. Me. Going on an adventure in the real world all alone. There would be no one to guide me, boss me around, or tell me what to do. I was officially free. My heart soared across the sky at that single thought - being able to make my own choices, and growing wiser by day. It felt like a dream come true.. one too ambitious to even exist. And yet, it became a reality. Despite all the odds, and all the challenges thrown at me over the years, I was able to do this. Come here today, and escape.

Steering farther away from shore I noticed the land vanishing away into the horizon. I was officially gone. I never had to go back to that place. That place I can't believe I used to call home. It felt like such a relief to finally be out of there. Steering away on my little trash-made boat, I tried to recall at least one fond memory I had from that place. But try, after try, no matter how long I searched for, I couldn't think of a single one - and for some reason, that worried me quite a bit. A wave of doubt flooded my mind: was this really the right choice?

Yes, of course, I wanted to escape that place, but not like this. I knew I would regret it eventually, and here it was. No matter how hard I tried, I wasn't able to clear these disturbing thoughts. I was merely just a pup in the middle of the ocean, now stranded by myself, all alone. It's like my body was split in half: one want to leave and the other wanted to stay - I never knew it would become this confusing. My boat pushed itself forward, swaying in the wind. The world had never looked more beautiful. From the bright green vines lurking below to the tiny guppies guiding me front beneath. Despite my confusion in what was the “right choice”, I was finally at some sense of peace.

Everything was finally coming together. I didn't have to wake up to screams of agony and fights - not every problem I had or talked about would be disregarded. Regardless of the slight love I had for that place, I knew this was right. Not because I wanted it to be, but for some reason, I now felt it inside me. A sense of power I had unlocked; becoming independent and finding the new me. If they couldn't look at me for who I was, what right do they have to make me stay there? With a wide grin plastered on my face, I looked over to the beautiful sunset: colors of blue and yellow intertwined with each other, creating a beautiful art piece. This is where I wanted to be. New, free, and alive.

july 19-20 (bidaily) - 479 words
here's the pic i used: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/875678543/
here' my pic that i took: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/875431264/

The night was chilly. The young girl got up from her writing desk to get her sweater from the living room, resuming to curl up with a book when her parents told her to sleep. Pulling the cozy red knitted sweater she had made herself, she walked back to find her favourite mechanical pencil missing.
She sighed. It was her brother again.
Her nearly four year old brother, one of the many things that tickled her spine when she thought about it.
Like something was wrong with him.
That was true though. He had not spoken a word in his lifetime. Most of his peers were forming full sentences and making friends at this age. Not for him.
Being taken to many doctors, he was not autistic, not disabled, not deaf, not blind, nothing wrong with him. Just his speech was late, and because of this, he was homeschooled.
He had a strange habit of taking her things.
The girl stepped down the top stairs, her footsteps loud in her home. It felt empty.
She knew that he would be at the big step in the middle.
Sure enough, he was there, playing with one of her old elephant teddies. The poor elephant had various things put on it and was sitting on a book.
“Can I have my pencil?” she asked, pointing to it.
He said nothing, like usual, and didn't even look up when she took it. His concentration was elsewhere.
“At least I got it back…” she muttered, walking back to her bedroom.
She checked her watch. Seven thirty.
Suddenly, a crash, a yelp, and sounds of crying echoed up the stairs to her room.
The girl sidestepped out just in time to see her parents comforting her brother.
His leg was bent out all wrong, and his sobs filled the empty silence of the house before. It felt too loud.
They mouthed, “Taking him to hospital. Stay safe.” before carrying him out the door.
“What about an ambulance?” she called, a fraction too late. They were gone.
The girl sat down. She felt worried and confused.
Obviously, her brother had fallen down the stairs. Hopefully not purposefully… no, she told herself. I can't go that way.
Getting up and stepping downstairs, her feet stopped her at the step where her brother played. Her gut told her to examine it closely.
At first glance, it looked like an animal hospital with one patient.
The elephant was sitting on a thick book. The spine read ‘Cinder, by Marrisa Meyer’.
“So that's where my book went…”
The poor elephant also had a sock wrapped on its foot, like a cast.
“Wait…” the girl whispered. “Is that what happened…to him?”
She had seen her brother's injury. It looked like a broken leg.
The elephant had a broken leg.
She couldn't help but think…
Was her brother predicting the future?