939 words, +939
When superheroes don’t exist, and havoc spreads through the city, the real heroes arise from the shadows. Rustling through the fake grass, with rag capes bristling with the wind, behold the 3 friends who will save the day. With no money, of course. The amazing, wonderful, fantastic, cool, awesome, splendid, grand, Melon, Moon, and Minnow!!!!!!!!!!

In room 106 of the Amethyst Apartments sat three cats bickering and shouting at each other as thunder boomed in the sky.

“After you drank all of Tee Furst Bosguy’s milk tea boba, we ALL got fired! Now we have no money to even pay rent at this place, we’re almost being evicted! How could you be so careless, Minnow?!” a brown tabby cat meowed angrily at a blue-gray cat.

“Well-

“Stop fighting, mouse-brains! We have to figure out what to do NOW instead of yapping about the past like saliva-slobbering dogs!!” a dappled calico cat cut in.

“Fine, Moon. We get it.” Minnow said.

“So, where do we get a job?” the tabby said, flicking her tail. Suddenly a light flickered into sight outside the window, and a sign that said, “EMPLOYEES NEEDED NOW!” shined next to another sign that had lit up but was too broken and old to read.

“Woah, look, Melon! Let’s get over there, they’re taking in employees!” Minnow said excitedly.

The three cats burst out of the apartment and zoomed to the sign, padding as fast as they could. Finally, they practically crushed down the door to the place with the sign. It turned out to be a sketchy bakery called “Booming Bakes”.

“Hey, uh, are there any jobs open? Me and my friends looked at the sign in front. We’d love to work here!” Melon said, lying through his forced grin.

Soon, a person who had a nametag that said “Tee Seconhd Bosguy- BOSS” slapped employee nametags that said the cats’ names. The cats proudly strolled out of the bakery, cheerfully ready for the next day- Or so they thought.

The next day, the cats came to Booming Bakes at 8:00 sharp. When they stepped into the kitchen, they saw the ingredients and orders. But there was an interesting thing about the ingredients. They were twisting slowly, and a mysterious mist-like glow emitted from them.

“Y’know, these ingredients look kind of weird… Spooky!” Minnow thought out loud.

“Let’s just ignore it for now and get to the orders. I’ll make the banana bread, Melon can make the cake, and Minnow can make the croissant.” Moon said calmly.

The kitties started mixing twisting bananas, frosting glowing cake, and baking croissants with green auras. They kept on making more orders, and orders, and orders, and orders, until their exhausting shift was over. When the tired cats trudged to the door, when they tried to turn the knob, they realized… It was locked! They looked all around for some possible key, but they had no hope after a half hour of searching. They were locked in.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Minnow screamed. “OH HEAVENS HELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Moon said, “Woah, calm down-

“I-CAN’T-CALM-DOWN-WE’RE-ALL-GONNA-DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Minnow’s voice pierced like a mic drop.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Melon screamed. “SHE’S RIGHTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YOU’REEEEEEEEEEEE RIGHTTTTTTTTT HELPPPPPP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Moon screamed.

After an hour of panicking and screaming, the leftover ingredients twisted. And turned. And emit a mist-like glow. They twisted and turned and glowed until… They transformed into mega-ingredient-MONSTERS! They dribbled spittle all over the floor, and swung their chunky arms back and forth, throwing spoons and forks all over the room. Silverware whizzed around the vast room. One monster was munching on a knife, while another was choking on a fork. Now all the cats were screaming louder than ever.

“OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH WHAT DO WE DOOOOOOO!?!?!?!?!??!” Melon screamed to the ceiling.

“HELP MEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 911 911 911!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Moon screamed. An ingredient monster started pouncing around the room.

“WAIT GUYS LOOK, LOOK, LOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I FOUND A PHONE IN MY POCKET!!!!!! I’M GONNA CALL 911!!!!!!” Melon shouted. He dialed 911 and waited. And waited. And waited… But they never picked up.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! NOT EVEN THE POLICE CAN HELP US!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Minnow cried. An ingredient monster bit his tail. “OWCHIES!!!!!!!!! THAT HURT!!!!” he shrieked, whipping around to the monster.

“WAIT, I HAVE A ROBOT MAKER IN MY OTHER POCKET! YESSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!” Melon exclaimed.

“Wait, what was that doing in your pocket?” Minnow asked.

“I DON’T KNOW BUT STILL, WE CAN MAKE ROBOTS TO MAKE THEM DISAPPEAR WITH, LIKE, METAL PANS OR SOMETHING!” Melon shrieked frantically. The second those words came out of her mouth, robots with iron patches and red-hot metal pans in hand flickered into sight.

“We-Shall-Help-You-Master.” They said in unison.

“SMACK THOSE THINGS WITH THE PANS PLEEASEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Moon squealed. The robots smacked and slammed the ingredients and handed pans to the trio to help them. They kept going until the ingredient monsters shriveled, burned, and glowed… with fire!!!!!

“Yesssss!!!!” Melon said. “Let’s go!!”

“Wait, we still have to get out of here…” Minnow pointed out.

“Let’s just ask the robots. Hey, Robo-Billy-Bob-Bobby! Open those doors!” Moon said. Robo-Billy-Bob-Bobby, the biggest robot, barged to the door and simply turned the doorknob.

“Wait, all we had to do was turn that knob? I thought we had to pull it! WE COULD’VE JUST ESCAPED! UGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!” Melon shouted miserably. The cats barged out of the bakery and threw their employee nametags with their names on it into the gutter as they zoomed to their apartment as fast as they could.

“Wait, how do we get money now?” Moon asked.

“UGHHHH!” They all said at the same time.

And that’s why you shouldn’t drink your boss’s boba, trust sketchy bakeries, and pull doorknobs.

Wild's Central Writing Hub

Dystopian

DAILIES
November 1 (___ words):
November 2 (391 words):
November 3
November 4
November 5
November 6
November 7
November 8
November 9
November 10
November 11
November 12
November 13
November 14
November 15
November 16
November 17
November 18
November 19
November 20
November 21
November 22
November 23
November 24
November 25
November 26
November 27
November 28
November 29
November 30

WEEKLIES
Week 1
Week 2
Week 3
Week 4

CRITIQUES

NANOWRIMO

OTHER

Churro's Weekly #01- Characters
(Unfinished but im getting there)
Part 1
The song I got from the random TS song generator was You Need To Calm Down

lyrics I chose:
Sunshine on the street at the parade
But you would rather be in the dark ages
Making that sign, must've taken all night

My writing:
Lillian's just standing there, looking at me. No, it was more like glaring. She and I both know she's the smartest in the grade, and I can't do anything about it, right? She's better than me at math, so why does she choose to rub it in? I don't understand mean people, do I?
“Hey,” She sneers. “How are you doing on your math homework? Do you need help?”
I side eye her, to be mean. “Erm, no. I don't need help.”
She sighs. “It's stupid little Bluebutt again, huh? I'm sure we both know I'm going to be the winner of the Math Cup, right? Or are you too stupid so you… don't know?”
She calls me Bluebutt all the time.
I run through my arsenal of insults. “No, Lillian, you're going to be the winner of the Psychopath Cup, not the Math Cup. Also, my last name is Bluebell, so get it right. Or are you too stupid, so you can't? I suppose your English isn't as good as your math, is it?”
Lillian looks downright offended. “What, Tilly, you can't stand me being smarter than you?” She shoots back.
I roll my eyes. “Is that the best you could come up with? Gosh. For someone so smart, I really expected more.” Then I walked away with my brown hair swaying in the breeze, a look of pure shock on Lillian's face. Bro just got owned.

Part 2
Name: Tilly Bluebell
Pronouns: she/her
Sexuality: Straight
Species: Human
Strengths: Loyalty, bravery, strong moral compass, and of course sass and sarcasm XD
Weaknesses: Impulsive (welp this could be considered a strength but whatever), a bit inconsiderate, irresponsible, and downright rude at times (but this is because of her sarcasm lol) kinda impolite
Tendencies: will willingly roast anyone on the spot, jump into action, and will fiercely protect her friends and loved ones if they're hurt

Part 3

Scenario 1 (word count is 152)
I get home from school, and I slam the door. I throw my backpack on the couch because I have nothing else to do.
My two moms come in from the main room. Yeah, don't look at me like that. You heard right. I have two moms. I call one Mom and the other Mommy so I don't get them mixed up.
If I do get to be in the Math Cup, I don't know what to do with my moms. There are lots of people out there who won't like them because of who they are. If they show up in the audience of the Math Cup auditorium, they better be sitting as far apart as possible. I can't have them embarrass me like that.
Lots of people would hate them. I can't embarrass them like that either.
And I can't imagine what Lillian has to say about my two moms.

Scenario 2 (word count 148)
There's Lillian again, the self-crowned math goddess. She claims she's so good at math even the 9th graders tremble in footsteps when she comes. Yeah, right. Bombastic side eye.
She also thinks she's better than everyone else, just because of her so “advanced” math abilities. Like, come on. Can you at least try to be a little bit humble? Geez.
Wendy and I are the worst at math in the whole class. Maybe even the grade. And Lillian thinks she can pick on us just because she thinks she's so much more “cultured” and “refined”, blah, blah, blah. The snobby jerk. Why would any real cultured and refined person call me Bluebutt? That's just absurd. It's actually pathetic. Even Wendy could come up with a better nickname than that, and she's even dumber than me. (Shh don't tell her I said that though.).
I'll show her soon enough.

Scenario 3 (word count 152)
Ah, yes. I lean back into my plush couch and pull out my book. It's raining outside, so it's the perfect atmosphere for reading. The fireplace is lit, and my room is warm and cozy. This is the place for me to relax- this is where I go to when I'm so stressed out from everyone, from everything, from just… life. When you've seen as much sheet as me, everything just seems so much better, because you know you're not the one suffering, you know you're fortunate enough not to end up on the streets starving in your pants… you can just appreciate things more, you know?
This is my comfort zone. My haven. The fire crackling in the hearth, the rain pittering outside, the * good book I'm instantly absorbed in… it's like a portal. To a world where Lillian doesn't exist, where those mean people holding those mean signs disappear, and all my worries dispel.

Part 4

Expanded Scenario (word count 500)
“OMG, Lillian, just because you're smarter than everyone else doesn't mean you have to be mean!” Wendy exclaims.
“What? Why? I'm smarter than you, so then I'm more superior than you, so then I can do what I want. And really, this class is a loser class. Everyone's so dumb! I seriously need to move up a grade or two.” Lillian says. Wendy is on the verge of crying.
I look up from my work. The teacher is oblivious to everything that's going on in the classroom. I have to do something, because the teacher's not.
“Lillian, could you elaborate why you believe you're superior to your peers? How does being smart make you above everyone?” I ask her.
Lillian flicks her hair, because why not. “Bluebutt, you're such an idiot. Don't you see? Being smart is everything. I'm already doing Geometry. If you can't get to my level, you have no hope whatsoever. I'm wasting my time talking to you dumbos right now.”
I bristle. Lillian is not going to tell me what I can or cannot do. Can't she see that being smart isn't everything? Everyone in my class is struggling around her, because of her. I will not stand such injustice.
The teacher says, “Now, who would like to represent this class in the Math Cup?”
Lillian stands up, confidently. “Me, naturally. I mean-” she scans the room. “-who else can compare to me? I am the math goddess.”
Someone in the back snorts. And that someone is me.
I stand too. “I would like to represent us in the Math Cup too.” I say.
Lillian stares at me in shock, and so does everyone else. Tilly Bluebell, that one kid who's failing in all of her subjects, has decided to go against the “math goddess”? Preposterous. But I can't stand to see Lillian demeaning everyone and thinking she's so smart and high up. I refuse to succumb to her. I'm gonna stand up for us, for all of us. I'm going to bring what little power we have to take down the math goddess.
And I'm gonna kick her off her throne. Totally.

NOVEMBER 2

Prompt:
Welcome to the second daily of this session! Hope you're enjoying discovering what your cabin and storyline look like. In this activity, you'll be writing a letter to your future self. Mention any goals you have for this month, maybe talk about a writing project of yours? Anything you want to include is great We'll be opening these letters near the end of the session.

Write 350 words to earn 200 points for your cabin, with a bonus 200 points for sharing proof.

Response:
Yoooo, hey there, future Wild!

The connection between my past and future selves is pretty strong, so this feels weirdly normal (damɲ that oxymoron~ /ref). It’s kinda weird to consider that we’re both the same person but also different since I’m changing every day. Not expecting TOO much to change in a month, though. I’m planning on drawing the yearly bust of my sona for DDoR’s 3rd anniversary tonight. I guess I can’t post it on DDoR until I get caught up, but I feel that it’s still important to get that done on time. It’d be great if, by some miracle, I could manage to catch up today, but I doubt it; I’ve got too many other things to do. This week has been crazy in terms of to-do lists- First, spending all Saturday doing Halloween events, then having both the Calculus test and the Physics test on Tuesday (and only missing one point each, surprisingly! ), and then the history project due Wednesday, which I totally didn’t finish at 2 am on Thursday… Heh. And then the bust for November 3 and the Hurry Hurry project that’s supposed to be out on November 6 for my reverse birthday that I’ve barely started yet… I really hope you got that done on time, future self. You better have been productive next weekend. Anyhow, how did NaNoWriMo go? I honestly don’t know if I’m capable of writing 50,000 words for the Shazarxae short stories on top of all the SWC prompts, but if I somehow managed to pull it off, huge congrats. I do feel like I’ve been able to handle things better lately, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to shake the procrastination syndrome entirely. However, I am not writing this in the hour before midnight UTC, instead 4 hours before, so hey, maybe there’s hope for me yet. I’m going to try hard this month, maybe more than I ever have before. It might mean I don’t get to talk to people as much and it might mean making some sacrifices and/or reevaluating priorities, but I am resolved to write more words than any session before this. If I end up succeeding in that goal, I’ll thank my past self, which is currently the present self typing this. Future, I’ll be there soon.

Sincerely, Wild of November 2, 2023

november 2nd daily: “Welcome to the second daily of this session! Hope you're enjoying discovering what your cabin and storyline look like. In this activity, you'll be writing a letter to your future self. Mention any goals you have for this month, maybe talk about a writing project of yours? Anything you want to include is great We'll be opening these letters near the end of the session. Write 350 words to earn 200 points for your cabin, with a bonus 200 points for sharing proof.”

words: 353

dear future piper,
hello! i hope that you’re doing well and that this session of swc was a ton of fun! i know that i am so excited for this beginning of this session, so i really hope that it was as fun as i hope it’s going to be <3 there are a couple of goals that i have for myself this session, and i wonder if we accomplished any (of hopefully all of them?? :0) first, i want to complete more of the later dailies; i know that in previous sessions we usually complete a lot fo the first week of two of dailies and then fizzle off after that because of procrastination or because we forget about doing them before they change. so, this session i really hope that we can complete a lot of the later dailies (or maybe, if we have enough time and energy, EVERY DAILY??) anyway, shortened version of that goal is to do more dailies. my second goal is to reach my word goal! i set myself a higher word goal this session of 10k words, which i know i could reach if i put my mind to it, and so i really hope that i can reach that this session. this is kind of the same reasoning as the previous goal since i usually don’t reach my word goal (when it’s this high) because i lose steam by the end of the month, so i hope that we dont do that this time. anyway, did we complete those two goals? I really hope so!! another thing that i really hope went well was lit-fi; i know in the past that sometimes we forget to check into our cabin and do the activities so i hope that this month we remembered to check in and do some of the things that our wonderful leaders spent time working on/organizing <3
anyways, in short i hope that this session was so much fun and that we were able to finish out the entire month instead of stalling near the end!
with love, piper (11/2/2023)

Welcome to the second daily of this session! Hope you're enjoying discovering what your cabin and storyline look like. In this activity, you'll be writing a letter to your future self. Mention any goals you have for this month, maybe talk about a writing project of yours? Anything you want to include is great We'll be opening these letters near the end of the session.

Write 350 words to earn 200 points for your cabin, with a bonus 200 points for sharing proof.

455 words, 400 points

Dear Kenzie,

Hi, welcome to the future! Congrats, you’ve traveled in time! No, not actually I’m just joking with you .

Anyways, how’s SWC? The daily team said we’d be opening them at the end of the month, so I’m assuming that it means around the 29th or 30th. Which means, your history test has already passed *gasps*. Did you do well on it? Hopefully you did okay.

My goals for this month are to make some more friends, beat my word goal and possibly surpass it, and not go inactive in the middle of the session akdfjdlkjfdklj. I don’t think I’ve surpassed 10k~. But I’m hoping to beat my goal of 30k .

/Hopefully/ you’ve finished the math course since there’s only like less than 20 days left!! If you didn’t- you still did amazing don’t stress please.

How’s the co-op coming along? Enjoying all your classes with your friends? What are you learning in bio? Oh wait you can’t answer that and I guess I could technically open the syllabus but I'm too lazy rn ;-;.

Excited for snow camp with our youth group? Hopefully we don’t get sick since it’s our last year to do it. Have you started making an actual morning routine since no daylight savings time is allowing us too?

I’m wanting to try NaNoWriMo this year, but I honestly don’t think I’ll get to it akfjdkdljdlk. Maybe April for camp nano.. Or what we could also do is write a novel in a year

What’s your favorite book, song, and music artist? Currently, I really like Relient K. I’m not sure about songs but for books I’d say Chronicles of Narnia and KOTLC. Speaking of KOTLC, AHHH YOU HAVE THE GRAPHIC NOVEL :OO also lemme know when you figure out the next book’s name I'm so excited for book 10. ahhhh. And my grammar is getting worse the more I write- Oh well.

Still enjoying Doctor Who with dad? Are Skye and Brownie doing okay? Mom’s probably freaking out since there’s probably going to be pheasants in the freezer once Dad gets back from hunting with the dogs and boys.

Have you gotten your life together more? Less stressed/depressed? Oh also, have you worked on the swc leader app if not get started kajfdlkdjflk. You only have like a month till they open. Have you stressing about your already good grades? Like bro if you were in public school you’d have As and Bs- but no you keep stressing whenever you get even a single problem wrong-

Anyways, I’m going to end my letter here since I don’t know what else to write about! God loves you Kenzie don’t forget that,
Love Kenzie <3
11/2/23

Paige's writing

Weekly #1

inspired by Mirrorball by Taylor Swift

I'll show you every version of yourself tonight
And when I break it's in a million pieces
I can change everything about me to fit in
I'm still on that tightrope
I'm still a believer but I don't know why

572 words
I shrug into my new outfit - my new identity. A bejeweled purple leotard with sparkly shoes to match. I have a new name to go with it all - Sarah Dauntly. I thought the Dauntly part would be ironic, with me being a trapeze artist. Maybe people will think it’s a stage name, but most likely they won’t care.
Ten minutes to showtime, so I hurry up, pinning my curly brown hair back and tying it with a ridiculous amount of ribbons. Finally, I climb a tall ladder with practiced ease and wait for the spotlight to hit me.
Down below, the ringmaster speaks with large, dramatic gestures, and what must be an enthralling voice, but I’m too high up to hear it. Surrounding us is the crowd, mostly working class families or unmarried young people in the back, and rich people up in front in comfortable seats. A few of them, I notice, I used to work for, but I know they won’t recognize me, not just because they don’t care but because I’ve taken such care to change everything about myself.
Finally, I hear the ringmaster announce, “And now, Miss Dauntly on the trapeze!”
I take my cue and leap into action, performing my act with almost no thought. By the time I land my final leap, I can barely remember the last minute or two. But, as I bow and look out at the audience again, I catch something, a glimpse of wonder in a child’s eyes, and somehow it makes me smile. I don’t know why it matters to me so much, but somehow I can still make people happy.
After the show I start towards the tent where us performers get ready, only to feel a tap on my shoulder. Nearly about to jump out of my skin, I spin to find myself facing a young man who works with the ringmaster and whose curious green eyes annoy me to no end.
“Yes, Mister Rivers?”
“That was amazing, Dauntly! Where did you learn to do that?”
I give a noncommittal grunt and shrug of my shoulders, starting to walk away. Unfortunately, he falls into step beside me. “I don’t believe what you told us about being self-taught and from the country anymore, not with those skills! You could only learn something like that at one of the performing schools.”
I turn and stop, look him in the eyes. “How about we talk later?” I say pleasantly. “Just you and I, after dinner?”
“Sure,” he smiles.
“Lovely. Leave me alone, now.”
He looks a bit lost but after a moment leaves. That was close, I think to myself, the smile slipping from my face. I may not be able to stay here much longer, not with questions like these being asked. I turn to go inside my tent when I hear the voices of some young people leaving the show.
“Wait, I think that’s her!”
“You’re right! Wasn’t she amazing? So graceful, and perfect. I bet she doesn’t have a care in the world! Must be amazing.”
“Excuse me, Miss - ?”
I step inside and the noise fades as I fall to my knees, sobbing. My forehead brushes the dirt ground, reminding me of childhood, and I just know I can’t take it any more, I can’t keep changing, dancing from place to place, never lasting.
I can’t!
But I have to.
The tears keep coming.

Character sheet
143 words from the answers

Name: Currently goes by Sarah Dauntly. Her given name, Mika Morgans, is a well-kept secret of hers.
Pronouns: she/her
Sexuality: pansexual
Strengths: deception, acting, hiding her emotions. Dancing, acrobatics.
Weaknesses: trusting people, letting herself feel safe, facing the past and things she’s done. Anonymity makes her feel safe.
History: well educated, in both academic subjects and in her performance skills. Mostly all information about her past is unknown, and she barely shares personal information. The most anyone has been able to deduce is that she’s had a hard childhood. When someone did figure that out, she quickly left and created a new identity.
Appearance: Shoulder length, curly brown hair, brown eyes, and light skin. Average height, graceful, a few scars from cuts and scratches on her arms and legs.
Goals: to survive. To make money. To never be recognized by anyone.
Fears: close relationships (romantic, platonic, and familial), physical injuries, her past

Scenario #1
Someone asks her out. Her goal is to not get close, to keep her anonymity, and to stay safe.

“Dauntly? Sarah Dauntly!” Kyle Rivers’ voice calls out from across the meal tent. At first I try to ignore him, continuing to scoop porridge into my bowl. But he comes up beside me, out of breath. “Sarah,” he says again, “You weren’t at dinner last night, and I couldn’t find you when I looked. Is everything alright? I thought we were supposed to meet.”
He sounds genuinely concerned for me.
“I suddenly felt a bit ill,” I reply without emotion. “Sorry.”
“That’s alright, I’m glad you’re feeling better this morning,” he says cheerfully. For a moment, he hesitates and I hope he’ll leave me alone, but then he plows on. “Listen, I know the show’s about to pack up and leave tomorrow, but I was wondering if you’d like to go out tonight? Around the city? Together?”
I freeze, hands trembling as they grip my bowl of porridge. “I - “
I can’t do it. Even speaking this much is out of my comfort zone - it isn’t safe. Even the part of me that wants to, the part of me that had to cry last night, the illogical part of me that wants to tell Kyle Rivers everything I’ve ever wanted to tell another human soul - I know I can’t. I worry that if I say no, I’ll stick out in his mind, and he’ll keep thinking about me and looking for answers to questions he shouldn’t be asking. But we’re leaving tomorrow, and I can be done with all of it.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Rivers,” I tell him coldly. “I’d rather not go with you.”
His face falls but he nods, dejectedly. I can’t help but feel regret as he walks away. Stupid, illogical regret. Dangerous emotions.

Scenario #2
An alternate scenario, in which she skips breakfast altogether and encounters someone in need of help.

I decide to skip breakfast, instead going for a walk around the city. The show’s about to pack up and leave tomorrow, so this is my last chance to see downtown. It’s strange, like I’m leaving somewhere but also staying somewhere at the same time. It’s why I’ve liked the traveling circus - but maybe I’ve stayed with it for too long.
I’ve taken the main streets for safety, but they’ve been fairly quiet this early in the morning, and I jolt in surprise when I feel a tug on my coat sleeve. I turn to see a small hand clutching the fabric, a hand belonging to a girl just as small.
“Excuse me, do you have any spare change?” she asks, looking at her feet. It’s not unusual for people to ask for money in this wealthier part of the city, though it does strike me as odd that this girl would ask me, in my battered wool coat and threadbare dress. I rummage around in my pockets, finding a few coins, barely enough to buy a bit of bread. I give them to her and turn to keep going, when I scrunch my eyes up tight for a moment and then call out to her.
“Hey, kid! Here, take these.” I hand her my wool mittens, which aren’t nice by any standards, but which’ll get the job done. “Winter’s coming. Keep warm.”
Then I leave, faster this time, trying to convince myself that speaking so much wasn’t a dangerous move. She was only a child, what could she do?

Scenario #3
In which either or neither of the previous scenarios have happened, the night after both of them take place.

It happens in the middle of the night, the sound of feet who don’t want to be heard. I’m out of bed before the screaming starts, outside just in time to see people all over the green, struggling to keep our circus’s supplies from the thieves. But I already have my pack over my shoulder, and am already on my way to the manager’s tent, where I quietly break into his safe. I take a little more money than I would’ve been due to earn next week, then exit through the tent’s back flap.
“Sarah!”
I turn to see Kyle Rivers struggling in a thief’s grip.
“Please, help me,” he gasps.
“Yes, help him,” the thief mocks.
I freeze, knowing I should run and yet wanting to stay and save Kyle. Wanting something so stupid.
Before I can decide which action to take, someone grabs me from behind and pulls me up to Kyle and his captor. And it’s at that moment that I recognize his captor’s face.
“Mika,” she says, a hint of surprise in her eyes. “How unexpected. Things just got much more fun.”

Final 500 words, continuing from scenario #2

I awaken in a cold sweat, rope digging into my wrists and something wet and sticky on my face.
Blood.
My eyes fly open and through my blurring vision I take in a dark, dilapidated building, empty except for a group of people standing in the shadows.
“This her?” a gruff voice asks.
“Yes,” a smaller voice squeaks.
I’m shivering violently, partly from cold and partly because I keep thinking about the blood on my forehead, and wondering how bad the injury could be. Did someone club me on the head? I try to remember. Is that how they got me here?
It takes me a moment to realize who the small voice belongs to.
“You!” I yell at the girl from this morning.
“Yes, her,” the first, gruff voice replies. Its owner steps out of the shadows. “Hello, Sarah. Or should I say, Mika Morgans?”
No. no. no.
My chest clenches up and I struggle to shift by position, discovering that my feet are also bound.
“I’m sorry. She offered me food for information,” the little girl says, looking guilty, but I ignore her, instead addressing my captor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter, immediately knowing how unconvincing I sound. My captor knows it, too, from his expression. “Okay, what do you want from me?” I say desperately.
“Oh, nothing you can’t give us.” He begins listing things off on his fingers. “Information. A bargaining chip. Access to your parents’ crime world. And money for your capture.”
“No.” My voice trembles. “I’ll give you all the information you want. I’ll give you everything I own. But only on the condition that you set me free afterwards, far away from - from here.”
The man with the gruff voice laughs. “You’re not in a position to bargain right now.”
“Then maybe you’re not in a position to get any information,” I say halfheartedly.
He only laughs louder. “We’ll give you some time to think.”
Before I can blink, they’re all gone, all except for the little girl, who they give a sandwich to and leave in the corner.
“Was it worth it?” I ask sourly.
“I didn’t know,” she whispers. She looks at her sandwich for a long moment, then offers it to me. I can tell she wants it, though. “Keep it. But come here and look at my head, will you?” She obeys. “What does it look like?” I ask, really not wanting to know.
“It’s just a little cut. Well, a medium cut. Here.” She takes a scrap of fabric from her pocket and wipes away the blood. I suck in a breath at how much the pressure hurts. “It’s scabbing over. Should be fine.”
I know it’s probably bruised, but I don’t mention that to her. As angry as I am, I know I would’ve done the same thing in her situation, probably with no hesitation. “You should leave,” I tell her. “It’s not safe here and it’s probably the only chance you’ll really have to leave. Trust me, I have experience with these things.”
“But what about you?”
“I’ll be fine.” I’ve already started contorting my body, shifting and bending a little more than most people can, trying to escape my bonds using what I learned as an acrobat.


Daily Nov 8
794 words
A couple notes: First, don't worry, I'm not using someone's actual name, just their Scratch nickname, which I decided to do instead of redacting it entirely. Second, I've been rather vague here for privacy purposes, but if it's alright, I'd appreciate it if you don't read this other than for proof that I've done it.

I don’t know how I ended up in this strange, foggy void, but I do know that to my right stands me at 7, and to my left stands me at 27. It’s terrifying, but I’m going to take advantage of it.
“Um, hi,” I say.
“Hi!” seven-year-old me says. “Where are we? I don’t know why but I feel like you’re me from the future - both of you. Is that true? Did I time travel? What’s going on!?”
“I don’t know what’s going on either,” I reply, “but I think you’re right about who we are.” I turn to my 27-year-old self for confirmation.
“Same here,” she replies. “But it also doesn’t feel dangerous. I think we’re okay.”
“Yeah, I think so too,” I say slowly. “While we’re here, would you guys mind if I ask you some questions? I’m really curious about who I’m going to be, and about what I thought in the past.”
“Okay!” Younger Me says.
“Sure,” Older Me says.
“Okay,” I say. I think for a moment. “Okay, first question:” I say to Older Me. “Are we still best friends with Soki?”
“Wait, what do you mean, ‘still friends?’” Younger Me asks before Older Me can answer. “We’ll always be friends with Soki, right? Right?”
“Yes, don’t worry,” Older Me says soothingly. “We’re still friends, and we visit each other at least once a year, sometimes more.”
“Visit?”
“They move away when we’re twelve,” I tell Younger Me. “But don’t worry. We keep in touch. It’s all okay.”
Younger Me nods, looking relieved. She’s wearing a flowery blue-and-purple shirt and a flowery pink skirt. I smile, remembering my ‘this has flowers, and this has flowers, so they match!’ mentality.
“Speaking of which,” I continue, “a little advice related to friends; your friends have good ideas, too. Try your best to listen to them more. You have amazing ideas, but you need to let others have time to talk, too.”
Younger Me frowns. “Are you saying I’m bossy? Or that I talk too much?”
“No,” I tell her, trying to be truthful and to not be hurtful at the same time. “Just that sometimes you should save the rest of what you want to say for later, after you’ve given your friends a turn to talk. It’ll pay off, I promise.”
“Okay,” she finally says.
I nod and turn to Older Me again. She’s wearing jeans and a patterned blouse, her hair braided but a bit shorter than my hair is now. “How are things with Daddy?” I ask tentatively, then add hurriedly, “And with everything. Have I gone to college or university yet? Do I have a job? Am I financially stable? Am I happy?”
Older Me smiles and puts a hand gently on my shoulder. “Things with Daddy are alright,” she begins. “Not perfect, but alright. We’re still figuring things out, but it’s easier than it used to be. As for our job, I’m not sure I can tell you much about that without breaking the space-time continuum or something, but I can tell you that we’ve gone to post-secondary school. And we have a good job, a job that we enjoy. There were twists and turns in the road, but we got here. I know I can’t ask you not to worry, but just try and trust that it’ll be okay, alright?”
“Alright,” I whisper, “I’ll try.”
Younger Me has been listening to the entire exchange, and now looks back and forth between us. “What do you mean about Daddy? And is our job an actor? Is it?!”
I sigh, turning to her. “I can’t tell you exactly what happens, just like she” - I gesture at Older Me - “couldn’t tell me. What I’ll tell you is that things happen which mean we don’t always get along the best with him. But it’s not the end of the world. Things will get better. Please just remember that it’s okay to rely on other people, it’s okay to tell them what’s overwhelming you and what you’re feeling. Your friends will be there for you, and the adults in your life will too. Alright? Please remember that.” When she nods, I add, “And as for acting - well, I don’t know what we end up doing, but I do know that currently I have a few other ideas for future jobs, too. Very exciting ideas. And a little scary. But mostly exciting.” I can’t help but laugh, suddenly, realizing that sometimes I still talk as constantly as seven-year-old me did.
Suddenly we’re all laughing, and then, just as suddenly, it all starts to fade. I don’t know what’s happening, but I know somewhere deep down that it’ll be okay.
“Bye,” I call out. “And thank you.”

Daily Nov 2
370 words

Dear future me,
Hi, I hope things are going well for you. I hope I haven’t left any big problems for you to deal with. Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that you’re doing great, no matter what’s happened. You’re trying, and that is enough.
Though there are some things I hope to have done by the time I read this letter, it’s alright if I didn’t do them. I can always make new goals, and there is always more time. Writing can be done at any time of year, so please don’t feel anxious about it. However, here are some tentative goals I have for this month:
This month, I would like to make friends. I’m going to set my goal at talking with two new people in my cabin this session, and commenting in the Horror cabin frequently.
I’d like to try and do more dailies, even if they don’t seem up my alley in the beginning; I want to get out of my comfort zone, a little bit. I want to have fun doing weeklies.
I want to make sure to prioritize school and life, and getting my work done.
I want to figure out how to get through the writer’s block I’m currently struggling with. I want to get back into that creative flow I’ve had in the past.
I want to start working on my main story, and understand the POV character better. I want to get into the character’s head, and truly understand how he views the world and how that affects his story and the outcome of it all. Right now, I’m working on understanding his relationships with his parents, as well as how he feels about himself. What does he think about his little brother, and what’s his favourite type of weather?
But overall, by the end of month, I will be satisfied if all that I’ve done is have a good time. If I’ve written things that made me happy, if I’ve experimented a little, if I’ve talked and laughed with the friends I already have, that will be more than enough.
Whatever it is that you’ve done this month: good job.
Sincerely,
Present (soon to be past) me

Sofi's writing thing

22nd November - Invention (226 words) Forgive the horrific psuedoscience bit- I had to write words somoehow
Do you often feel tired and weary in public? I sure do. Do you ever feel like collapsing on the floor, or curling up in a ball and just hibernating? I definitely do. Well then, you need the Dream Coat. The Dream Coat has the appearance of just an ordinary padded coat, warm and cosy, but nothing special. However, at the push of a button, this awesome garment can transform into the perfect haven for your beauty sleep. The entire Dream Coat can grow in size, becoming more like a blanket you can wrap up in wherever you are and get that long-awaited nap. The science behind it? Well, the outer layer of the coat is elasticated while still being waterproof, so the padding on the inside has room to expand outwards. This happens because fresh air is pushed into the coat using a difference in pressure between the coat and the atmosphere. When the coat expands, tiny air pockets within the padding are created, maximising warmth when you need it most.
The best thing about this product? No one will question you. As long as you find a quiet space, out of the way, people will not judge you, they will admire you. They will envy your comfort and want for Dream Coats of their own. Provided they’re introverts that occasionally go outdoors of course.

18th November - Sidekick day (676 words)
The sidekick decides that their life is too boring, traps the hero in a room for the day and tries to go around saving people but fails miserably every time.
Lyra and Pan from his dark materials (I didn’t do them justice)
“Lyra? Lyra?”
No answer.
“Lyra, I’m sorry. I just.. Don’t feel like you let me be myself enough. I want a chance to do what I want. I want to be free. I know I’m your daemon, but it’s only for a day. Roger might not even notice you’re gone.”
This comment cut deep into Lyra’s heart. Curled up like a baby by the door in that cold room, her muscles tensed in rage. But rather than lash out, she whispered fiercely to herself,
“Of course he’d notice!” she screwed her eyes shut and willed for Pan to see sense.
“Listen, I know you don’t want to talk to me. I’ll… be good. And I’ll bring you food at lunch! And I might go to see Roger.” Pan, delirious in the thought of this unfamiliar opportunity, transformed into a lithe stoat and began to slip elegantly into the main corridor. He had barely gotten five feet away when he and Lyra both whimpered in unison. They shrank back in pain and he returned hastily to the door. They were both suddenly weak and exhausted, but he flew lightly up to the door handle and unlocked it.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking,” Pan bowed his little head, then his eyes glinted hopefully, “but, maybe we could still do this. If you follow behind me, stay out of sight, then I could maybe have the day a bit to myself.”
Lyra, being too tired to argue, nodded absently and let him lead on. They heard footsteps in the corridor.
“Hide!” Pan hissed to Lyra.
“Morning Roger! How are you doing?” Pan asked cheerfully.
“I’m fine, thanks. But where’s Lyra?”
“Ah, well. She is feeling under the weather today, and is going to take the day off,” Pan declared with confidence, and Lyra, as angry as she was, felt almost proud of him. Roger, however, was perplexed by this broken logic. His daemon, Salcilia, instinctively took a delicate step towards him, seeking shelter at his heel.
A young maid rushing down the corridor, carrying a box of marbles, was flustered and speeding towards humiliation as she tried to transport them to the place they needed to be ten minutes ago. She barreled straight into Roger.
“Ah!” Roger exclaimed as he tumbled to the ground. Sal barked in surprise. The maid’s daemon squawked furiously and pecked Sal sharply on the neck. There were marbles everywhere. They had made a terrible noise as they spilled over the stone floor.
“These were meant to be in Master Solens’ lecture hall ten minutes ago! You’d better help me pick these up, young man!”
“I know what to do!” Pan piped up. He didn’t. They all looked at him expectantly. Lyra peeked from behind her bookcase to see what he would do.
“I… don’t know what to do,” he admitted. Everyone else scrambled to collect as many as they could, but a good number had rolled further down the corridor, out of sight.
Master Solens’ footsteps echoed sharply as he strode briskly down the corridor. He was looking for the marbles he’d requested for. Lyra grinned; she could see the accident waiting to happen. As expected, he failed to see the tiny obstacles on the floor in front of him, and he fell in a magnificent flurry of robes, shouts and scraped elbows. He was sprawled at an awkward position on the floor, and got up again rather indignantly. Roger, the maid, and Lyra had all watched this in silence, and all panicked as they heard the footsteps of more scholars. Master Solens only just had time to glare at them in fury before he was toppled like a tenpin by scholars caught unawares by the comical hazard. Pan, sensing the chaos unfolding, became a moth and flew unseen onto Lyra’s shoulder.
“This is all your fault!” Lyra giggled quietly. If Pan could have blushed, he would be red with guilt and frustration.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said decisively, and they slipped out unnoticed, even by Roger.

15th November - Characters (586 words)I couldn't just give Duck a happy ending - and it's his fault not mine
I stumbled out of the classroom drunkenly, almost tripping over myself in fatigue. My hands ached from writing, my eyes hurt from seeking answers, my mind was empty. I felt, as I often did, like collapsing on the floor, even though it probably hadn’t been cleaned in decades.
“Hey Duck! How’d the test go?” I heard a voice behind me.
“Oh, it was fine I think, could be better, could be worse,” he said wearily, smiling at Sarah. I’d been talking to her more lately, I thought I could maybe absorb some of her intelligence by osmosis. Judging by how the test had gone, I didn’t think it had worked. But now I had twenty minutes to relax, to do nothing and anything.
“What’s that noise?” asked Sarah. I hadn’t noticed it; the low rhythmic pounding of a drum, the screech of a microphone. My weary eyes flitted around in confusion.
“Is that what I think it is?” Sarah asked in delight. I, still unaware of what she meant, was taken by surprise when she took my hand and started dragging me down the corridor. It was all I could do to keep up with her.
Sarah heard the drums grow louder as she skipped down the stairs, and she laughed out loud with excitement. Now I understood the reason for her ecstasy, I raced after her. The thought briefly crossed my mind, I was going to get some food right about now, but it was too late for that. The band was warming up.
“Let’s put our bags down somewhere,” I said, although we ended up practically throwing them into a corner. By the time we got back there was a crowd gathered around and the band was tuning. Sarah turned round and grinned wildly before she dived into the crowd to snatch a front row seat. I followed after her, ducking between the older kids who loomed over us. I was smiling, something which I wished I could do more. Sarah was too, but she always was.
When the music started, there were perhaps three hundred of us gathered in the small playground, and the pounding of the drums went right through me, tickling my mind and filling me with energy. In all honesty, the band’s singer was awful, but he sang all the best songs; there was even an encore. At the end of each song, I was screaming and shouting along with everyone else, pulled away into the sheer excitement of it all. If it hadn’t been for Sarah, I would’ve hidden myself away and revised for my next test. I looked over at her, cheering with everyone else, and realised I had a friend.
“Come on Duck! Let’s-” I didn’t hear what she said after that, since a new song was starting, but I let her lead me to a group of people my age. They looked like a bunch of misfits, I’d never had the nerve to talk to them, but they looked friendly and fun, and Sarah was laughing at their jokes, so they must’ve been alright.
That breaktime, we cheered until our voices were hoarse and best of all, I’d found what I’d been looking for for years. Friends. It only hit me that breaktime, with Sarah and her friends, that I needed other people so much. But I’d had one of the best times of my life.
So it was a shame when I lost my bag and was late to my next test.

Daily 13th November (417 words)
“Guys, for the moment, we’re… stuck here.” The exhausted and frustrated Izzy slumped down on a chair, which wobbled and creaked concerningly. Her eyes gazed blindly downward and her hair fell like a dark curtain over her face. She tried to care about what happened to the boat, but being in a position of responsibility was unusual to her and the way she dealt with it was to hide behind her hair and pretend she wasn’t in charge.
The awkward silence hung cloyingly in the air like the diesel that pricked sharply at their nostrils.
“So? What can we do about it?” plucked up Izzy’s little sister. She had more optimism than everyone else on that boat combined. “Yes, the engine’s broken, and sure, the adults all left to get help and have been gone for hours, but we can do something!” As she finished her sentence she stood up and glanced at Izzy. She could see that she had zoned out, dazed by the thought of having to lift a finger. Right. She’d have to rally the youngsters herself.
“It’s getting cold in here. Nancy and Bob, could you get the stove on, and make some tea?” Their two faces turned up slightly at the prospect of having a job, no matter how small.
“And Quinn, you can go looking for blankets - anything warm will do.”
He flicked his blond hair out of his eyes and skittered out of the cramped galley.
“I’ll… try the radio again.” Jess looked hopefully at Izzy again, but she hadn’t moved. She stood there for a moment, and when Izzy remained still, Jess coughed deliberately.
“Um, Izzy?”
“Me? Yes?” Izzy looked up in mock surprise.
“Where’s… the radio? I know you already tried but I thought I could and maybe we’d get somewhere, and you don’t have to do anything, just can you tell me where it-”
“Stop. You think I don’t want to help? You think I want to just sit here and wait for help to arrive?” interrogated Izzy. Jess could feel herself growing slightly red as she answered yes to both questions in her mind. She shook her head innocently.
“I’ll fix the radio! I’ll do it. You, go do… oh, I don’t know, find some food other than that one fish Dylan caught.”
Jess frowned in irritation at Izzy’s bossiness when she was clearly just trying to make a point for the sake of argument, but knew better than to object. She left in a hurry.

Daily 12th November (572 words)
Near an ear, a nearer ear, a nearly eerie ear - from @unhinged_musings
Where am I? I thought to myself. I can’t.. I tried to lift a hand to my eyes, but it wouldn’t move more than an inch. I couldn’t see. There was black all around me. I couldn’t hear. It was as if I was underwater. I couldn’t move! I couldn’t speak! I tried screaming for help until my throat burnt, and the gag over my mouth was damp with the hopeless spit of effort. I had struggled until my muscles ached and my brow glistened. Hell, I had even tried biting through the coarse cloth that bound my mouth!
I didn’t know how long I had been there when I heard a noise other than my own futile struggles. I was sat still, limp like a child’s doll, utterly absent.
“Shh.”
I thought I had imagined it. It was such a short, quiet noise. It seemed natural that, with all my senses blurred, my brain should come up with its own ideas, and I should begin imagining things.
“Shh.”
Yet the noise came back. It returned three or four times, and kept getting louder. It awakened me from inside myself, and I found the strength somewhere to look up and make a weak sound in the bottom of my throat. I had really been trying to say, “what?”
After that I just sat there. I no longer cared what happened to me. The noises were probably in my head - nothing was coming to save me.

“Boo!”
Suddenly the shadow was replaced by terrible brightness, my gag was ripped off, there was noise in my ears.
“Wake up!”
I cried out in shock, then my head bent forward in a bout of horrible coughing at the damage done to my dry throat. When I finally stopped and looked up, I noticed the sound of voices, many voices, arguing. Everything was still white - my eyes were as unseeing as they were before.
I felt the heavenly sensation of cold water in my throat, and it was all I could do not to choke as I gulped down my sweet remedy. It restored the strength to me, and I shouted:
“Who are you?! Where am I.. Where are you?”
“Oh, now that’s a good question. I, I mean we, are all around you. We are closer to you than your blood is to your bone. We are in your every thought. We listen.”
Rather than think upon this, I grunted and struggled against the ropes that still bound me. My vision was starting to clear. I could make out blurry yet familiar shapes around me.
“Calm yourself! There is nothing to fear. We are your friends.”
“No!” I shouted.
“Yes. We control your every action, we are who you are. You only think what we choose you to think. This is good for you. You are nothing without us..”
The voices kept on talking, and growing quieter as my sight returned slowly to me. I felt myself falling, as if released from an omnipotent grip, and I became limp and lifeless. Now I was in my bed, the time was about three in the morning, and although my eyes were still blurred, I could see everything by the faint yellow light of my lamp.
“Wha-! How am I here?! What’s happening?”
There were no more voices now. Not a single sound. Yet there was one thought lodged in my brain. It wouldn’t go.
Always listening.

Daily 8th November (680 words)I took this too seriously - it's chaotic and a bit incoherent, and only really makes sense to me haha
“So, shall we go get ice cream?” says the older Sofi. She seems to naturally take charge, since she loves protecting and caring for those younger than her.
“Your hair looks way different to mine- and yours!” the fourteen year old Sofi, looking first up at her future self, then down at little seven year old, “I’d say it’s an improvement though.”
Not understanding the slightly sharp comment, the youngest brushes her impractical fringe out of her face and checks her pockets for money as the three start walking.
The oldest picks out the perfect flavour for each of them, carefully sifting through her memories of her childhood trips to ice cream shops.
“Mango for you,” she hands one cone to the seven year old, “pistachio for you,” she gives the next to the teenager, “and raspberry sorbet for me.” She then leads them to a bench looking out onto the rest of the park, and they automatically sit in age order - youngest to the left, oldest to the right.
“You know, this reminds me vaguely of Forrest Gump. I haven’t watched the film though, but I know about him sitting on the bench,” remarks the middle girl. The oldest chuckles,
“Yeah, please, as soon as you are able to, watch good films and shows. I know you don’t have Netflix, but you still have the opportunity to watch some of the classics. I just think you need a bit more of that common film knowledge.”
“Forrest.. Gump. That’s a bit of a stupid name for a film, though, isn’t it?” says the youngest, smiling at the absurdity of it. They all are silent for a while, enjoying their ice creams. Then the teenager suddenly says to the oldest,
“You still listen to the Crane Wives right? Please tell me you do, I couldn’t bear anything else.”
The oldest grins, “don’t worry, I’ve stayed loyal. I listen to the odd bit of jazz too, and whatever you’re thinking, yes, you’re right, that’s why I listen.”
The middle Sofi blushes as the older one strikes a chord with the deepest notes of her heart, and feels compelled to ask slightly more serious questions. She also looks at the youngest, who seems to have noticed the change of tone in the conversation, and is looking up expectantly.
“Little Sofi- and yes, that will become your name in a few years. Your family still calls you Sophie, but your friends and classmates know you this way. Anyway- do you have times when you start crying at random times, and you don’t know why, but you think it might be stress?”
Little Sofi flinches at this thought, saying, “yes, I know. I hate it. Can you fix it?”
“I can. I think you put too much pressure on yourself. You’re only young, and while your actions now will affect your future, they matter much less than you think. So, have fun! Use your time well, keep your friends close, and know that it gets better!” says the middle one. Then her face clouds over, and she looks up to the oldest.
“It.. does my life stay good?”
The oldest Sofi thinks for a moment, then says, “well, for starters, you’re with the right friends now. They mean everything to you - I can say that with certainty because I can see them crystal clear in my mind, even now. However, it’s not easy. Schoolwork’s going to ramp up, you’re going to aim high- but don’t worry, your ambition is good. And you know the motto, don’t you?”
The middle Sofi’s face lights up.
“You.. you kept the same motto? The one that girl told me in year seven?”
“I’ve remembered it ever since. So will you. The good old two words..” They both turn to the youngest Sofi. The oldest begins.
“Sofi, if there’s one thing you learn today, learn these two words and when life gets tough, remember them. I wish someone had told me sooner; these words can save you so many wasted tears, so sleepless nights.” The middle Sofi says:
“Just chill.”

Daily 6-7th November (611 words)
Penelope squinted in the morning sunlight filtering through the grand bay window as she heard the light tinkle of the doorbell as another customer walked in. The familiar scent of roses touched her senses as she handed them over to Mr. Fell. As they left she turned to rearrange her display of fresh roses. She was too wrapped up in the overall pleasantness of the morning, the way the light fell on each petal, to notice the doorbell ring once more. She didn’t hear the sound of feet approaching her as the figure glided smoothly towards her.
“Hi, Penny.”
Penelope was cast out of her sunny, floral paradise, and her muscles tensed with shock.
“Oh! Hi there Lula! I didn’t hear you come in!” Lula smiled briefly, but when it withered into dejected passiveness, Penelope sensed something wrong.
“Hey, Lula, are you ok?”
“Yeah, well, can we talk somewhere more private?” she asked.
“Absolutely- We can go to the back room,” Penelope replied, hiding her unease at leaving her shop unattended behind a warm, Friday morning smile. She stepped into the stuffy little storage room where her display boxes and ribbons were kept. Lula followed silently, the only sound she made was the rustling of her floor-length skirt against the doorframe.
“So, what is it you wanted to tell me?”
Lula was paralysed with anticipation. How could she even begin to explain herself?
“I’ve… got a problem. And you’re not going to believe me when I tell you what it is,” she said, continuing quickly so as not to give Penny time to interrupt, “I don’t understand why this has happened to me- I just don’t know,” Lula mumbled.
“Well, why don’t you just tell me? Whatever your problem is, I’ll try my best to help.”
“No, really, I don’t think it’s like that…”
“Just tell me already!”
“Well, I’m floating!” She almost shouted. She went as red as Penelope’s roses as the tension and anxiety in her mind was all released at once, replaced with a crippling fear of judgement.
Penelope was simply confused. She stared at the quaking Lula for a couple of seconds, bewildered by her outpouring of emotions.
“I’m really sorry, I don’t think I get what you mean. Like, emotionally are you-”
“Floating! Look!” Lula’s shaking hands lifted her cumbersome and heavy skirt up to her knees. Her feet did not quite touch the ground. The gap was only about an inch, and she was short anyway, so you could hardly tell. Lula’s words tumbled out:
“It just happened one day! I don’t know how- I- my feet just didn’t reach the ground. I couldn’t make it go away but I didn’t know who to tell so I just stayed hidden away for a while but I had to tell someone so… I came to you.
Penelope’s eyes were wide with amazement. She looked down at the soft pool of shadow gathered beneath Lula, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Penny! Please, say something! I need help!”
As if snapped out of a trance, Penny looked sharply up into Lula’s eyes. Her gleeful lightness was gone, a keen searching expression usurped her face.
“You’re not joking?” She whispered.
“No I’m not joking!” Lula gasped tearfully, “I came to tell you because I thought you would understand! That you could do something!”
“No, no I think I do understand. And I think I can help you.”
“You can?”
Penelope smiled wildly. She leapt into the air, and stayed there. Relaxing into the natural flow of the air, she floated about a foot above the ground, and held out her slim, dark hand to pull Lula up with her.
Note: +10 points if you know Mr. Fell

Daily 3rd November - Autumn Symbolism (660 words) did i write too much? No.
The sun rose into a sapphire sky over Amber Island. It rose with an age-old majesty and solemnity so as not to shock the inhabitants, who often slept into the late morning. The moon had been busy at work all night, turning the trees from rich emerald to bright fiery shades of gold and red. It had prepared the land for the turn of the season in just a few hours, and, proud of its labour, had asked the sun to wake all the creatures so that they might savour the abundant beauty of the new island.
Tallulah, a youngster of Amber Island, woke at sunrise, with a sense of purpose and confidence. This was uncommon behaviour for her people, since the passage of time was something they had little regard for, and would prefer not to rush things, but to savour each moment for its beauty and individuality. This day was a day of rest, so time was passing even slower than normal.
The sparky young girl didn’t care for this philosophy. At least not today. She was on a mission. A mission to make jam. Tallulah fetched her coat and basket, not bothering to change out of her bed clothes before leaving her family’s little cottage. No one in the village heard the click of her little hooves as she strolled gleefully into the sun; they were all asleep. She stepped into the Woods Behind the Village; really, the woods surrounded the entire island, but they were called the Woods Behind the Village anyway.
The bushes were heavy with fruit, fat black shapes, made of tiny pouches bursting with juice, sweeter than any ordinary blackberry. A nutritious superfood, revered by all the creatures of the island for its sweetness.
Boots the magpie had been eyeing them up; he had pretended to be asleep when the moon was setting out the bushes but had risen before his magpie friends to find the best fruits. There was just one problem; the stalks holding the fruit were far too thick to cut through, using either his beak or his claws, he could hardly make a dent. As soon as he heard the familiar soft click of hooves on a beaten path, he rose gracefully into the air.
“Ta-a-lly!” he sang, “Ta-a-lly!”
Tally heard the call and turned her eyes to the trees, searching for a flash of movement. Boots landed in front of her while she was still looking up, and cawed indignantly when she still didn’t notice him.
“Oh! Morning, Boots! What are you doing being up so early?”
“I could ask the same of you!” He replied, “Listen, I need your help with the fruit bushes.”
“You think I couldn’t have guessed that? Alright, show me the best fruit and I’ll help you.”
Boots’ name was attributed to his unusually white feet, which flashed in the sun as he flew on ahead, Tallulah galloping to keep pace. They stopped at a bush which looked as if it was so heavy with fruit that it might collapse.
“Wow. It’s a real bumper crop this year. This will make enough jam for the entire village.” She began using her tiny pocket knife to cut through the stems of the fruit. She put most of it in her basket, but created a little pile on the ground for Boots to deliver to his family.
“Stop putting them in the dirt! We’ll have to wash them now!” he tweeted in mock anger.
The day was still very young when they finished their fruit picking. Tallulah’s basket was full, and Boots was about to begin the arduous task of carrying the fruits back to his nest.
“By-e Ta-a-lly! See you too-mo-rrow!” he called as she trotted back home.
Tallulah smiled at the heaviness of her basket as she carried it homewards. Everyone was still asleep, she had an entire season of jam-making to enjoy, and all the time and fruit she could ever need.

Daily 2nd November - Letter (356 words)
Dear Sofi,
Firstly, I hope you manage to read this later on without cringing. Aside from that, I’ve got the feeling that November is going to be pretty busy. I’ve got assessments for pretty much all of the first half of the month, so I’ve got to try my best in those (more importantly, I want to fit in revision with my friends, that always helps). After that I have my grade 6 clarinet exam, which I feel prepared enough for, but I hope you didn’t mess up too badly. In terms of writing, I don’t want to push myself too hard this month, because of November being really busy. That being said, I want to complete at least two weeklies, at least half of the dailies, and try my best to complete my word goal (this is probably my biggest one). It’s annoying that note taking doesn’t count as revision- if it did I’d complete my word goal before we were even halfway through the month! I also want to fit in a nice woodland ramble with my friends one weekend. Since we found the way to that really pretty river I really want to go back, plant some daffodils and other flowers, and maybe bring a bigger group of friends than normal. Since the clocks changed the sun sets earlier, so we should really be going walking earlier in the day. Last time we were out it got really dark and our parents got quite worried, so let’s avoid that. Speaking of early darkness, I need to try not to get locked in the park on the way home from school!
This letter keeps going off on tangents, but my main message is to take it easy and spend time with your friends. They mean so much to you and they matter more than all the tests and stuff.
Oh, and I’m going to ___ soon! I’m not really into shopping, but it will still be a lot of fun and a great day out! I’ll tell you how it went soon.

Anyway, take care (really, take care of yourself)
Love from Sofi xxx

daily for nov second (illu fi)

dear future veni:
hello <3 i'm writing this for swc - which is a little obvious, since you'll be reading this as a part of the same session :) it's currently 7 o clock on thursday, november second, but it kind of feels like a monday (thankfully it's not!!). you'll be reading this towards the end of november - i think i know when, but i'm not sure if i'm supposed to say. hopefully the session's been fun as a first time leader, and maybe you've completed some weeklies and entered the writing comp!! and hopefully you're not speedrunning your word goal, because i have struggled with that in past sessions sadly. i don't have any on-going writing projects as of now, but i want to start one soon!
i think that covers the two prompts mentioned in the main cabin description, so i'll just spend the rest of these words rambling a little :) first of all, i'm super excited for the holidays (they'll be much closer as you're reading, and likely more acceptable to look forward to)!! i know that halloween was two or so days ago, and i had a lot of fun (i dressed up as alice in wonderland, i don't think a lot of people got it), but christmas time is just something else. i am also aware that the next-approaching holiday is thanksgiving (and my birthday, if that counts), but still haha <3
i'm not really sure what else to talk about, i'm not the best at writing letters to the future (even when i've brainstormed them in the shower)! i guess i'll just talk about my day - i had my first “productivity streak” in like two weeks - i recently took a shower, did my laundry, and now i'm here doing the daily! it might not seem like a lot, to the other people reading this and to myself, but i've been super busy and unmotivated recently, so this is an accomplishment ;) i also got to hang out with some friends today!! the trade off was having to stay after school for a little bit, but honestly it was worth it since i haven't seen them in a while.
and i think that's all - i hope you're doing well today!
sincerly, november second veni

daily 2 - letter to future self
word count - 359

Dear future Bee,
I hope this letter finds you well, and, though this may be too much to ask, that when you look back at this and our other dailies you don’t cringe and think about how terrible they all were. It’s only been a day but, so far, being a co-leader again has been amazing - I love the added involvement and responsibility it gives you, and I hope you’ve continued to enjoy it throughout the course of the session. I hope you’ve also stayed as motivated as possible, tried to complete all of the goals we set for ourselves at the beginning of the session, and maybe even completed that one short story we’ve been thinking about for a while.
On a different note, I hope you’re doing well outside of SWC and in real life - in school, regarding the current crisis, and in general. Remember that you are loved, and that the potassium-40 in an average banana emits about fifteen becquerels of radiation.
Going back to SWC, how’s our word goal going? I know I set the bar a little high compared to previous sessions when we’ve had school, but hopefully that’s just motivated you to write even more. Maybe you’ll even have continued that novel we haven’t touched in four months - though I have a feeling it isn’t going to go much further. There’s even a chance you’ll have started a new one - but although we do have way too many ideas, I doubt that any of the bigger ones will come to fruition, at least in this month.
Long story short, or if you’re busy and don’t have enough time to read the whole thing, I hope you’re doing great, both in this silly wpeels community and in real life, and that you’ve been motivated and happy with whatever happens. Remember to always love DEALS, to enjoy everything this session to the fullest, and to stay involved with whatever’s happening. I should probably be doing some work right now, so I’ll end this quickly by saying that discounts are awesome, and I hope you still agree with me a month later. Enjoy!!

daily!!

dear future soki,
how’s life? how was folklore? how many islands did the campers end up getting through? what are you most proud of from this session?
right now my main goal for the session is doing a better job of leading than i did last session in script. which, while the circumstances were out of my control, i could’ve managed in a more mature and responsible way. i don’t beat myself up about it, though. i take it as an opportunity to learn. and i hope that by the end of this session, i’ve proven that i’ve done that well. another goal i have is to talk to swc-ers i don’t know very well, make some new friends maybe. have i made new friends? if so, who are they and what are they like? did i reconnect with any old friends? how did celes and zai’s birthday’s go? which cabin wars day was more chaotic?
what’s the song that i will forever associate with the session? my current predictions are killer queen by queen, stressed out by twenty one pilots, cannonball by the breeders, or something my metric. how accurate is that?
and yes, stingray, if you’re reading this, you should check out any of those songs/artists you don’t already know.
i think folklore’s storyline might be my best yet and i’m really excited to see how it turns out.
how did i manage the real life, swc balance? because in past sessions i tend to prioritize one of the two far too much. hopefully this session is when i finally achieve that proper balance.
did luna and i do our word war within a reasonable timeframe this session? how’d the marauders high republic gang fanfiction go, if it happened at all? did you have a good month?
how’s the specific new thing that’s going on in your real life that you’re not going to disclose to all of scratch for personal safety reasons going? any further friendship progress? any other details to report?
how long did your candy last lol? and your sister’s?
did you refine your plan for fanfiction next session?
i can’t wait to see how this session unfolds.
— present soki.

daily 2:

Hello future self! This is the second time I'm writing one of these letters and it was super fun last time! The difference is that this one is only for a month, so I guess i'll start off with some questions!! Did you quit the novel you swore you would finish yet? If so did you start a different one? If not, how far did you get? We aimed for 15k words for this month, I think! Did you hit that goal? How many words did you end up getting? How many dailies and weeklies did you do total? Did the novel end up going well, regardless of how far you got in it? Tell me about the plot in more detail! How does x end up meeting x? I'm so exited for this project to finally get going! My favorite character is x so far, so you'll have to tell me how she develops as the story goes along. Do x and x end up reuniting? How many times did you get stuck in the plot and have no idea what comes next? That's right now :skull: the second scratch writing camp daily and I already am stuck

Who ended up being the villian? Where exactly did the plot go? Please describe it in great detail!

Not related to swc, but how was the month? How did school go? I hope it went well. Does biology still suck? Does the book finally have a name? How quickly did the halloween candy go :skull:?

Did you enter the writint contest? What did you submit? If you know the results, what were they? How did sci-fi do over-all? Did we get a lot of points? How many as your currently reading this?

It's kind of crazy how I am in the present for me, but you, the same person but somehow a different one, is reading this in your present and we can never truly meet. However, I hope you had a good month and the future is good for you. I don't want to put too much more existential dread, so I'll leave it at that! Bye!

Hello me! We hope we’re doing well.

How did this session go? Did we make new friends? Hopefully Kate stopped spamming us about our novel. Speaking of our novel, past us hopes that we wrote at least one thousand words of Darkstalker’s Daughter. We want to get up to the part with the bracelet at least. Did we do it?

Past us hopes to do as many dailies as possible, we currently have a streak of two. How many did we end up getting done? Hopefully it is at least ten, though we understand if we don’t get past that because life happens. We hope we didn’t get too burned out, and that we kept a good writing streak and had a good time.

Pro tip for us, don’t leave the dailies to the last minute, we are currently writing this with seven minutes to spare, and believe us, the stress isn’t necessary. Just get it done beforehand and we’ll be going smoothly.

By the way, how did Kate’s birthday go? Remember, we spent a long time planning it, so we really hope she liked it. Did she appreciate our drawing, and did she like our note? Speaking of, did we ever finish our note? We really hope we did because we wish that Kate has the very best day on her fourteenth birthday. It’s not every day you turn fourteen!

Four minutes remaining, and 100 words left to go. Does our wpm increase over the month? DO we get better at time management? Do we stop procrastinating, or at least do it less? Hopefully we do. Three minutes and this is not looking good for getting it done on time. Forgive us, we wish to complete this before our time is up. Perhaps we can make it if we try super hard? Maybe if we type as fast as our ideas flow into our mind we can finish it in time? Thirty words left, perhaps we can make it! Go us!! Let’s give ourselves a pat on the back.

Remember that you are awesome, because we know you’ll forget.

Love, Us.

Daily 2:

Dear Future Me,

Oh boy, time travel am I right? First things first, are you still mad at the Disneyland worker? Just let it go, girl, it was his job. How is school going, are you still procrastinating on your analysis report? I mean if I know me, it's very likely. Just for our sake get it done, I don't want to pull an all nighter in the future. Is your story going well? If you have no motivation, just remember that in order to write good, you just have to write bad so much you eventually find footing. It's just like how we got good at drawing! remember keeping notebooks and just doodling whatever you felt like? Looking back at old drawings really helped you realize the power of practice. This is the same as keeping a writing notebook! You have to start choppy in order to become fluent in writing! Also, just think about your characters. That'll help you out of the slump. You know, I'm saying this like I'm all wise, but if I'm talking to my future self, you should technically be smarter than me. You should be telling me all of this, right? I don't know, but despite our one-sided relationship of me liking you and you cringing at me, I hope you can learn to collect motivation and inspiration quicker than before! (and for goodness' sake, get that report done)

Good glory I did it, enjoy the accomplishment future me!
Past Me

Weekly for week of October 30

Based off of “This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things”

Part 1
271 Words

Marla looked through the photo album. Parties, fun, friends. She missed everything from her old life- before her “best friend” had stolen it. She didn't talk about what happened- luckily, her a few of her other friends didn't care. They disliked Sophia as much as she did, although unfortunately not everyone agreed. She used to be the queen of the school, with her pool parties and huge house. She also was just a good person- or so she thought. Apparently Sophia didn't think so.

Marla tried not to be bitter about it. She still had her boyfriend, and her parents, and her swim team. She still had a life- it could've been worse. Shaking her head. Marla sighed and put the photo album back where it belonged- in a drawer, underneath all her junk. She swept her brown hair onto her shoulder and went down for dinner with her little fluffy dog, Brutus, following her.

As Marla sat down at the table, the doorbell ringed. “Marla, will you get that?” her dad yelled, although he hadn't made an appearance in the kitchen yet. She sighed. “Yes, dad.” It was probably just the mailman, or Girl Scouts trying to sell cookies. On her way to the door, she tried to decide what her favorite type was and how much money she was willing to pay for it. But when she opened the door, someone very surprising was waiting for her.

“Hi, Marla,” Sophia said. “I think I left my library book here, it was called- ” Before she could tell her the title, Marla shut the door. So much for not being bitter.

so, weekly part 1 i guess
based on “epiphany”
(word count 224)

••••• had always been the “good guy.” In school, at home, at church- She had always been the one correcting her sister's behavior. She was getting sick of it. But now, how things changed so fast. ••••• lay in a hospital bed, barely able to open her eyes. Her mother was with her. Accompanying her on this long journey leading somewhere unknown.

••••• closed her eyes, and thought it would take away some of the scorching pain. There was no wound, only a golden lightning-shaped mark. No one had any idea what to do as it was unlike anything ever seen before.

She didn't know what |||||||||||||||| had done this time. She just knew that |||||||||||||||| was with her. Somewhere else, in this enormous world, her sister was thinking about her.

Wherever she was. Whatever she had become, leaving ••••• in the dust after the injury.

••••• opened and gently closed her eyes, delving into a deep and restful slumber.

The beautiful woman was there. The godlike figure, with a long, strawberry-blonde braid, a glowing complexion, and three soul-searching eyes, was there for me and only me. I'd seen her before, I was sure of it. But exactly where, I'll never know. Maybe in a long-lost dream or a distant memory, but I'll never forget what she said:

“Second chances are not for everyone.”

For the daily:
Hi future May! I'm not sure when you're reading this, but when you do, here are some things from the present day!
Okay, so I'm very busy. I’m also doing a play, so that’s fun! I do wish you would respond, and tell me what you’re doing in your future place.
But whatever! Since you’re me, I’m going to write some goals for you-me-oh, you get the point! Anyway, I’m writing a story, and I want to get it published! Does it? Please say yes! Also, do you remember the script you made for theater class that you wanted to perform, but didn’t have time? I really want to know if I’m able to do it in my own time! (Again, if you get this, PLEASE RESPOND!!)
Wait! Since you wrote this before, that means you already got it. :0 That’s crazy and it blows my mind.
Anyway, no time for cray-cray mindblowers, haha. Also, I hope we win… well, you know. The thing at school. Also! I need to do both sessions of the theater camp this summer. (Which is 2024, just so you know.) It’s not 2024 yet, but it’s close! It’s November 2nd, 2023. I wonder if S will transfer to our school… I hope she will.
Haha, I’m just over here trying to write right before play practice. (Haha, write, right! I don’t know what those are called but they’re fun! Like reign and rain, or to, too, and two. Lol, for some reason I love those. But I also love palindromes, the same word forward and backward.) Oh, also! A new kid is coming to our school! He’ll change the number of people in sixth from seven to eight.
Ooooh, lego masters is on. Weird thing to listen to while writing, I know. Okay, I am going to ask you (me) a question, and I’ll answer it later.
Okay, first, was I able to organize that play? It was about Nike, (the Greek goddess) that goes to the future, (AKA modern times) and goes to the Nike store, and thinks it is a temple to her. Then the people there have to help her.
Bye! Thank you for reading!
-May
(Btw I'm in illu-fi)

Daily Nov. 3rd

Katherine felt the wind brush against her clothes and skin and wrapped her coat tighter around her. She hated everything about every season that wasn’t summer, especially the cold. Her coat seemed to never be enough to fight it.
She checked her watch in a fit of restlessness. 7:05 P.M. Where was Alice? She was the one who’d set the time - seven o’ clock on the dot. Katherine frowned. She decided she would leave in five minutes, if Alice didn’t come.
Katherine leaned back against the bridge wall, tapping her thumb on a crumbling stone brick. This was the Lonely Bridge - at least, that was what everyone called it. Whether or not that was what it was called on maps was up for debate. She didn’t really care about that, though.
Everyone called it Lonely Bridge because…well, it seemed kind of lonely. It sat out in the middle of the forest, over a river that had long since dried up. No one came here - well, except as a picnic spot.
Or a mysterious meeting spot.
Katherine’s only entertainment was watching reddish-yellow leaves fall off of the oaks that made up the bulk of the forest. That got boring quick, though, and she began pacing back and forth.
She checked her watch again. 7:07. Ugh.
She started counting the big stone slabs the bridge was built out of. Once she reached 50, and realized it was a stupid way to pass the time, she checked her watch again.
7:09. Alice didn’t have much longer.
Just as Katherine was preparing to leave, regardless of what the time was, she heard the crinkling of leaves in the distance.
Alice.
She immediately stopped her pacing and leaned back again, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. The crinkling grew closer.
Alice stepped onto the bridge, brushing her long black hair out of the way of her long and slightly bony face. She stopped directly across from Katherine, taking up a similar pose to her.
“You wanted to talk?” Katherine asked. She decided she didn’t care enough about Alice being late to ask - at least, not enough to postpone figuring out why she was here in the first place.
“Yes.”
“…About what?”
Alice wrapped a lock of hair around her finger. “I…don’t think we can be friends anymore.”
The wind picked up speed for a moment. My fingers felt numb from the cold. “Why not?”
“You know why.”
“I thought we were going to try to fix things! To get them to understand.”
“I don’t think they’ll ever understand. And…I don’t know how much I care anymore.”
“Are you saying…?” Katherine’s words wavered.
“I’m saying…you’re not worth it, Katherine. You’re not worth the trouble.” Alice sighed. “I’m sorry.” A tear formed in the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry.”
She ran away into the cold, cold night.