1st Weekly - 1,658 words in total

italics = my comments

Part 1 - 212 words
Song - I Knew You Were Trouble
I knew you were trouble when you walked in
So shame on me now
Flew me to places I'd never been
until you put me down

i got a bit carried away and made the character quite different from the lyrics, but the inspiration is still kind of there haha
i also made two characters (clarence being the one i focus on more) because i wanted dialogue and things and i thought just developing one character whilst not really doing anything with the other one was a bit pointless or difficult or something idk

“Clarence! Hey! What’s happening?”, Alice exclaimed brightly as Clarence walked into the room, with his signature beanie hat covering his swathe of dirty blonde hair.
“Right, listen here. I’ve managed to find somewhere excellent. Are you in?”, Clarence said under his breath, leaning in towards Alice, as if not wanting to be overheard.
“Oh, I didn’t expect you to actually follow through with it! I thought it was just an idea, a theory… a fantasy if you will,” Alice said surprisedly.
“Well, you know me Alice! I’ll follow through with any idea, no matter how crazy. I’m a man of my word,” remarked Clarence proudly, and now leaning back from Alice’s long dark brown hair.
“Oh, well, it’s just that I didn’t think that it would be a good idea. You know, it might be a bit dangerous, or… I don’t know. I’m probably overthinking, maybe it would be fun. I’ll come with you.”
The two sat down at a nearby bench, and Clarence talked through his fantasy-come-true with Alice. She was still on edge about going through with the idea. After all, she wouldn’t want anything to go horribly wrong. Clarence, however, had not a care in the world. He was just after a bit of what he called ‘light-hearted fun’.

Part 2 - 375 words
haha i got very carried away with this one, and i did two character sheets because as i said i didn’t want to just develop one character. half the stuff on alice’s sheet makes no appearance in anything i write here but i did it nonetheless

Name: Clarence
Pronouns: he/him
Sexuality: straight
Age: 33
Appearance: Usually seen wearing a black beanie, dirty blonde short hair, pale skin, average-tall height, wears flannel shirts and blue jeans a lot, but likes to vary it from time to time.
Hobbies/likes: Skydiving, rock climbing, sailing, anything outdoors that is at least somewhat adventurous or dangerous.
Strengths: Very ambitious, if he has an idea that he’s committed to, he will follow through with it in 99% of cases. Cares about the interests of others - he is willing to try something new with someone he values, in order to please them, and because he enjoys doing lots of things. Good listener, and genuinely cares about other people in his life.
Weaknesses: Sometimes he can be overly ambitious and not give himself enough time to rest, or will overestimate what his abilities and capabilities are, and then find himself out of his depth. He gets swept away and doesn’t always consider the feelings or needs of others when doing things with them, and this has caused a few friendship and relationship issues in his life. Comes across as intimidating sometimes. Can be secretive.
Tendencies: Thrill-seeker, adventurous, likes trying new things
Relationships: In a relationship with Maja (side-character), who enjoys the same kind of thrill-seeking and adventurous activities and hobbies as he does, they sometimes fall out but they usually manage to make up. Alice has been one of his close friends since childhood, and they still like to hang out and do things together. Maja feels somewhat uneasy about this.

Name: Alice
Pronouns: She/her
Sexuality: bi
Age: 30
Appearance: Waist-length dark brown straight hair, pale skin, wears denim 99% of the time
Hobbies/likes: Art (she dabbles in painting, but likes to go to art galleries and buys some pieces for her own home), keeping plants, cycling.
Strengths: Really sweet to everyone, unless you have done something to annoy her, calm in difficult situations, studious, can motivate herself to do things that she finds boring, empathetic, cares about people in her life.
Weaknesses: overcautiousness, doubts people, sometimes overworks herself, introverted but presents as an extrovert.
Tendencies: is overly cautious or overthinks to the point that she can put herself or other people off doing something, finding people attractive.
Relationships: Close friends with Clarence since childhood, in a relationship with Claire and has a 5-year-old child (Arthur) with her.

Part 3 - 516 words

Part A - 195 words
“Wow, I’ve been waiting to do this for so long! Now it’s finally happening!” Alice excitedly exclaimed, as they were walking onto the aircraft. Not a shred of fear was present with Clarence as he and Alice ascended up into the sky. He enjoyed this kind of activity.
“Yes, me too! I love skydiving with Maja, but skydiving with you, wow. I know you’re going to love it!” piped Clarence with anticipation, as he couldn’t wait to introduce Alice to one of his favourite activities.
“Aaaah! Here we go!” chimed Alice, who how had a hint of nervousness as the plane started to take off.
The plane ascended higher and higher, until they were ready to jump out.
Attached to each other with their parachute secured, it was time to jump. The door slid open. The weight of the situation hit Alice as she saw the drop in front of her.
“We’re really going to just… jump out? Are you sure this is safe?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fine! You’re strapped to me, so if anything happens to you, it’ll happen to me as well. I’ve done this many times before, don’t worry,” Clarence resssured Alice.

Part B - 160 words
Clarence looked out of his window with despair, at the grey, gloomy and grim outside. The usually bustling and lively train station was now soaked and devoid of people. The lights were glaring out at the tracks and houses, and the occasional grey ghost train screeched past. All there was to do was sit at home, being deafened by the heavens pouring everything down over the town. This was probably the longest amount of time that Clarence had ever spent sedentary. One of the things he hated the most was having nothing to do. He couldn’t even go for a walk to kill time. At least he had Maja for company, but she had to do some study for her college course.
“What is there to do? I am lost in here, it’s like a prison,” Clarence thought to himself. He resorted to reluctantly turning on the TV and grabbing a snack. Today was going to be a long day.

Part C - 161 words
This quiet, chilled atmosphere was a new experience for Clarence. He usually enjoyed trying new things, but this was different. It wasn’t a daredevil stunt, or an extreme sport, or anything remotely dangerous. He was just browsing a quiet bookshop in the middle of a lively town.
“It’s nice to get a bit of a respite from everything sometimes,” thought Clarence, “sometimes I do too much with my life, sometimes the atmosphere of town is too much.”
It was a peaceful day, sun shining, birds singing, and the bustling atmosphere of the town centre felt out of place. Clarence had decided to go into a shop he’d never been in before today, and that just so happened to be the bookshop. He almost never reads books, but he thought he might like to try. He did have a few friends who were constantly talking about this book and that book, and Clarence always wanted to know what they were talking about.

Part 4 - 554 words added, 715 words total
This quiet, chilled atmosphere was a new experience for Clarence. He usually enjoyed trying new things, but this was different. It wasn’t a daredevil stunt, or an extreme sport, or anything remotely dangerous. He was just browsing a quiet bookshop in the middle of a lively town.
“It’s nice to get a bit of a respite from everything sometimes,” thought Clarence, “sometimes I do too much with my life, sometimes the atmosphere of town is too much.”
It was a peaceful day, sun shining, birds singing, and the bustling atmosphere of the town centre felt out of place. Clarence had decided to go into a shop he’d never been in before today, and that just so happened to be the bookshop. He almost never reads books, but he thought he might like to try. He did have a few friends who were constantly talking about this book and that book, and Clarence always wanted to know what they were talking about. He browsed for around half an hour, still not finding anything that piqued his interest. Then out of nowhere, a familiar face appeared.
“Oh hey Clarence, what are you doing in a book shop, of all places?” asked Alice, seeming quite surprised to see her daredevil friend quietly browsing for a book.
“You know, I just got bored of being… busy all the time. I wanted a bit of a break from everything. Look - I’ve been in here for God knows how long, can you help me find a book that I won’t bore my brains out with?”
“Sure! There’s tons of great reads in here!” exclaimed Alice, with a giggle. She took him to her favourite corners in the shop, showing him all of the different books she’d read and explaining the synopsis for each. She was so excited that Clarence was finally getting interested in reading.
“Wow. That’s a lot of reading you’ve done! How do you have time for life with all of that sitting still and looking at paper?” Clarence couldn’t quite understand that thrill-seeking and adventurous activities aren’t the only thing that people find interesting. “The one you mentioned when we were over there,” Clarence gestured, “that one sounded good. The one about the people from different districts choosing people to fight each other… that sounded interesting!”
“Oh that one’s an absolute classic! Everyone knows it! I know you’ll love it - let’s go and buy it,” exclaimed Alice. “This must be how Clarence felt when I went skydiving with him that one time - I get it!” Alice pondered to herself.
Clarence picked up the book, intending to only read a page or two to see if it really was as interesting as Alice made it out to be - she talks things up sometimes. He found himself engrossed in the storyline, and before he knew it, he had spent two hours reading a significant chunk of the book. Alice had gotten bored of just sitting with him, so she had gone to browse for herself, which she intended to do when she came in to the shop, before seeing Clarence looking like a lost child in the middle of a supermarket. Clarence only realised the length of time he had been sat there for, when the shop assistant told him that the shop would be closing shortly.
“Oh wow, sorry! I must’ve gotten completely stuck into this book my friend recommended me - I’ll go and find her now,” Clarence said, mildly startled by the assistant’s presence.
Clarence bought his new book, and spent a while walking with Alice around the now much quieter centre of town.
“Thank you for coming and recommending me that book today, otherwise I would’ve gotten frustrated and left after half an hour! You might have given me a new hobby!” Clarence chimed.
“I’m glad I found you in there as well! It’s great to expand you horizons and get into new things, especially disproving ideas that something might be boring or uninteresting! When I saw you in there you looked like you’d lost you mum in the supermarket!” answered Alice brightly.
The two waltzed off down the street and made their ways home, Clarence excited to tell Maja about his new discovery. Maybe she could start reading books regularly too!

ok this was the first swc weekly i’ve completed so i’m actually proud of myself for this! it probably isn’t very good (especially the last part i really didn’t feel like it was very good but whatever), i don’t write that much but i’m trying to get into it and get better! any critique will be appreciated <3

Word Wars 2 || 171 words
Prompt: “The last thing I expected to meet was a mango.”

Original (Word War count)

“What,” Dusty said, staring at Macaw. “Yep, a mango!” she confirmed, continuing her story. “It had dropped out of a Rainwing’s talons, and I picked it up, realizing that it was the perfect idea! I could sell fruit! In the rainforest, there’s so much fruit that nobody would miss it if I took some to sell around Pyrrhia!” “And Pantala,” Dusty added, Macaw giggling. “Yes, and Pantala, of course. That wasn’t on my mind at first, though. All I had to do was fly around, set up shop, and sell fruit to all of those curious dragons!” “And that’s how you met me!” Dusty laughed. “Selling fruit!” “All thanks to that silly mango,” Macaw giggled, wrapping her wing around her Sandwing buddy, who grinned. “I better thank that mango, then!” “I’m pretty sure it’s already been eaten, silly.” “You sure about that?” “Yes, I’m very sure about that.” They smiled at each other, before Macaw said “We’d better check on Sparky-“ “Oh yeah,” Dusty replied. “He could be getting into trouble-“

Edited (Personal word count) (186 words)

“What,” Dusty said, staring at Macaw. “Yep, a mango!” she confirmed, continuing her story. “It had dropped out of a Rainwing’s talons, and I came up with the perfect idea! I could sell fruit! Since there’s so much fruit in the rainforest. nobody would miss it if I took some to sell around Pyrrhia!” “And Pantala,” Dusty added, Macaw giggling. “Yes, and Pantala, of course. Going that far wasn’t on my mind at first, though. All I had to do was fly to a town, set up shop, and sell fruit to any curious dragons!” “And that’s how you met me!” Dusty laughed. “Selling fruit!” “All thanks to that silly mango,” Macaw giggled, wrapping her wing around her Sandwing buddy, who grinned. “I better thank that mango, then!” “I’ve already eaten it, silly.” “You sure about that?” “Yes, I’m very sure about that.” They smiled at each other, before Macaw, realizing something, said “We’d better check on Sparky-“ “Oh yeah,” Dusty replied, standing up quickly. “He could be getting into trouble-“ The two lovedragons, wings wrapped around each other’s backs, went to find their little dragonet.

We stared at the figure who stood in front us, unafraid.
“Put your hands up! I'm calling the police!”
“Can we?” asked the figure next to me.
“No.”
Why???“
”We can't eat him, it's Thursday“
”Excuse me! I- will not be ok- uh sure I can tell you are cosplaying and stuff, but like this is a little too far.“
”Huh? What's cosplaying?“ I asked, confused. The person next to me nudged me and whispered, ”Where you pretend to be someone else from a pretend world. Like on that night there were a ton of people dressed as fake vampires.“
”Oh.“
As the person in front of us reached into his pocket, i slipped into the shadows. When he looked up, I was no longer there.
”Where's the other one?!“
”Alia? She's behind you.“
”What?? No she's not!“
HE turned around and screamed. I sank my teeth into his neck and he fell down.
”That's how you make a k!ll,“ I smirked, licking my lips.
”Maybe, you shouldn't taken your full form?"

+173 words

Churro's Miscellaneous Writing #2
(this was for school idk lol)
Dear Diary,
It's me again! Today was the first day of middle school and I'm in 6th grade now! Wow! I actually can't believe it!
I could walk in the hallways without being in a line! I could eat outside with my friends! I could scream in the cafeteria and nobody would get mad at me because all the teachers cared about was you leaving trash on the floor!! I feel so grown-up now!
Only thing: There. Wasn't. A playground.
Okay, maybe I'm not so grown-up.
As a *cough* child, I must play during recess. It is the only way I can meet up with my friends and talk about the latest gossip and OMG Now I CAN'T DO SO BECAUSE THERE'S NO TIME TO! Like, I know, you're going to say “what about lunch?” and I'm going to say “No because at lunch you're supposed to focus on eating” and you're going to say “eating and socializing” and I'm going to say “Guess what they only give you thirty minutes to eat lunch, so focus on feeding yourself or you're gonna starve for the whole afternoon, okay?” *deep breath in* And… what about physical exercise too?! Okay, I know you could just sign up for PE class last semester but some people don't have PE so they don't get enough exercise, right? We need to BREATHE. Breathe the fresh air. We need to run around and PLAY. PLAY is GOOD for YOU. GOT IT?! Like, literally the only chance you can run is in between class periods for, like, five minutes at a time. And nobody ever runs in between class periods unless you're, like, late to your next class but other than that, we DON'T exercise. UNLESS you're in PE.
And don't get me started about during class, OMG. Like, the teacher would be babbling about something, blah, blah, blah, and you're falling asleep over here, and you need to get up and walk around (teachers, take notes: they're called brain breaks) and recharge. Brain breaks are called brain breaks because you have a break, and it's good for your brain at the same time! So after you come back from your break you're more focused and ready to learn! Amazing, right? That's what recess is for!
I'm seriously going to ask them to bring playgrounds back to middle schools.
And wow, how did a diary entry turn into a whole Ted Talk?!
Sincerely, me

Word Wars 3 || 226 words

Original (Word War count)

Gila ran, panting hard. Why was she here in the first place? She had no clue, and it was a bit too late to reflect, as there was some giant bird monster shadow thing chasing her. The water sloshed around her talons as she ran, ducking and dodging a huge firey shadow blast from the creature. “Ugh,” she sighed, running some more, very glad that she had such high levels of agility and speed and stamina. The creature roared, increasing its pace, Giga beginning to sweat as she noticed the long tunnel around her growing darker from the beast’s influence. “I can’t run forever,” she thought, “and this tunnel doesn’t seem to have an end.” She wasn’t exactly thrilled to fight the giant monster, but she may have to. She kept running, looking for an exit, but didn’t see one, and probably couldn’t escape without being disintegrated anyhow. With a sigh, she turned around, and sprayed venom at the furious stalker. It hit the bird, but all it did was screech, unfazed, and blasted another shadow fire ball at her. She dodged, feeling its power against her scales, and ran towards it, avoiding its big, angry talons. If she couldn’t defeat it, she could at least confuse it. Running back the way she came, she glanced over her soldier. The angry, angry creature tried to turn

Edited (Personal word count) (265 words)

Gila ran, panting hard. Why were they here in the first place? It was a bit too late for them to reflect, as there was some giant bird monster shadow…thing chasing them. The water sloshed around their talons as they ran, ducking in order to dodge a huge firey shadow blast from the creature. “Ugh,” they sighed, running some more, very glad that they had such high levels of agility, speed and stamina. The creature roared, increasing its pace, Gila beginning to sweat as they noticed the long tunnel around them growing darker from the beast’s eerie influence. *I can’t run forever,* they thought, *and this tunnel doesn’t seem to have an end.* They weren’t exactly thrilled to fight the giant monster, but they may have to. They kept running, looking for an exit, but didn’t see one, and probably couldn’t escape without being disintegrated anyhow. With a sigh, they turned around, and sprayed venom from their tail at the furious stalker. It hit the bird, but all it did was screech, unfazed, and blast another shadow-fireball at her. They dodged, feeling its energy against her scales, and ran towards it, avoiding its big talons angrily trying to snatch them. If they couldn’t defeat it, they could at least confuse it. Running back the way they came, they glanced over their shoulder. The furious creature tried to turn around, but the tunnel was very thin, making it extremely difficult. Gila fled, not looking back until they found the hole they had come in from. Laying down, they panted, glad to be rid of the monster.

☾ taylor’s writing log

☾ weeklies
weekly #1 - character development

☾ dailies
2nd nov. daily - letter to future self
3rd nov. daily - autumn symbolism
4th nov. daily - constellation formation
8th nov. daily - conversation between different versions of yourself
12th nov. daily - story based on tongue twister
13th nov. daily - cabin storyline as a prompt

☾ other
writing comp entry - clutching shadows

word war
the last thing i expected to meet was a mango. and yet there he was, greeting me with open… well, not arms, but you know what i mean. he had a very full beard and he was wearing glasses for whatever reason. i was left to question how he had opened the door.
“um. hello?” i said cautiously. my grandfather had always warned me to not trust a mango.
“greetings, my dear!” he (he?) exclaimed. “i've been expecting you.”
“um. why? my grandma sent me over to borrow some eggs. ahem… do you have any eggs i could borrow?”
“eggs? what are eggs?”
“they're… the little round things that come out of chickens. us humanoids use it for food, for pranking, and for omelettes?”
“oh! eggs! i do not own any. but come on in my dear…”
“i think i'm good.” i backed away, scared to come home to the wrath of my grandmother.

that's it for the word war, it was 154 words! i continued it because i felt like it lol

“no, i insist! you could come and join me and my children in playing monopoly.” he sounded really desperate. i was not aware he had mango children, and i did not desire a meeting.
“i have to go home!” which was half a lie, since i was planning on visiting the store to purchase some eggs. i'd rather lose some money than face a week of chores - my grandma really, really needed the ingredients for her pie because the baking competition was tomorrow. but the mango stared me down with his nonexistent eyes, which was creepy. so, i turned and sprinted down the road. i made the mistake of looking back - the mango was hovering towards me at very high speeds.
i finally reached the store, and i slammed the door behind me, barricading it with a crate of apples. the store clerk looked at me weirdly, and i blushed out of embarassment.
“sorry. i had a mango chasing me.”
the clerk nodded. “ah, fair enough. he terrorizes residents around here at least 43 times a week.”

this is quite possibly the worst summary of Feather I've ever done- speedwriting is just so aaaa, I couldn't go back and rephrase anything ;W;

Feather knew she couldn’t stay there forever. The winds had called to her ever since she had hatched, singing a song of something just beyond the horizon, something she had to chase down for herself if she wanted to get a chance to see it.
She kept telling herself it would be just one more season, and she’d get that chance. But every season, she stayed put, tied down to the place where she was born.
Was it that she couldn’t bear to leave her family? Or that the terror of the unknown was enough to hold her back? Did she just not have it in her to take that first step?
Maybe it was just that as she had matured, she realized that her dreams were unrealistic, fanciful, only the silliness of a hatchling not even fledged. There was a much better life for her here, anyway. Everyone she loved was here- Her parents, her siblings, and Emerald, the charming shazarxa she was beginning to fall in love with.
He always told her that everything they needed was right there. And he was right. So she pushed her younger self’s dreams away, hiding them deep where she’d never have to worry about them again.
Or so she thought.
For a long time, she was happy, she truly was. She started a life with Emerald, settling down to have a clutch of eggs of her own, as her sister, Moon, had done the year previously. If Moon could do it, so could she.
There were three eggs, and the first to hatch was the smallest, a little scrap of a hatchling she named Sky. Why had that name come to her mind? She couldn’t quite remember now, but there used to be something about the great, open blueness of it all that reflected the possibilities she saw in her baby’s eyes.
The second Emerald named Ash. It was a special name, he had said, for the gray color of the powdered sand of the riverbank, built up by the same river that they had met beside.
And the third she called Breeze. When he had first hatched, he had turned his face to the blowing wind of autumn and spread his stubby wings. Surely this was a shazarxa born to fly.
She was filled with love by the three precious hatchlings she had brought into the world, but something in her heart grew heavy. It didn’t feel as joyous as it should. There was something missing, something that would never quite satisfy her. And more than that, a sense of dread that there was no longer any going back.
The season turned from autumn to winter, and her hatchlings grew. That’s when the wolves came. With their hungry jaws, they came, snapping up shazarxi wherever they could. None of them stood a chance. Sky was lost to those savage beasts, never to return to the safe embrace of her wings.
Crying with distress, she ran, down the snowy banks, to the frozen river, unable to contain the

weekly #1!!! - 1493 words

song: mirrorball

lyrics:
Shimmering beautiful
And when I break it's in a million pieces
I'm still trying everything
To keep you looking at me

***

part one:

Shea dropped her phone, distraught. Turning to her agent, she wailed, “they’re trying to cancel my show, Dean! You can’t let them cancel! My fans!” Her hands were shaking, and her impeccable makeup was slowly dripping away as tears slipped down her rosy cheeks. Shea buried her face in her hands.

Dean sighed. “Miss Shea, let’s face it. You are going nowhere. Nobody wants to see… whatever this is,” Clicking his tongue, he gestured towards the pop star’s disheveled appearance. Shea let out another sob.

“Dean, I’ll do anything! Plastic surgery, botox, oh Dean, I’ll even donate my hair!” she cried, grabbing at her silky, waist length locks and shoving fistfuls in her agent’s direction. “Let me donate my hair, Dean! They can make wigs with this stuff! Wigs for… for kids with cancer! People like that, don’t they?”

With a sigh, Dean made a small note on his clipboard. “Whatever you say, Miss Shea. I’ll let the press know. Your appointment is this weekend.”

“Oh! Thank you, Dean,” Shea gasped. Her fame could be saved, and her publicity would skyrocket. What else could a star wish for?

“My show will go on. They’ll see that I am worth watching,” she said, and wiped the tears from her face. “I’ll show them.”

***

part 2:

Name: Shea Gardner
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Occupation: Pop star/singer
Eye colour: Bright blue
Skin colour: Tanned
Hair colour: Shiny, golden blonde
Height: 159cm, or 5’2”
Birthday: March 23rd
Personality type: ESFJ (Extroverted, Sensing, Feeling, Judging)
Desires: Fame, wealth, popularity, victory
Phobias/Fears: Rejection, humiliation, spiders, sickness
Secrets: Impersonated her best friend and stole her victory at a beauty pageant as a child. Still sleeps with a stuffed toy named Mr Fluffy.
Self-esteem: Thinks very highly of herself, and feels shocked and angry at any sign of imperfection. Feels vulnerable after receiving harsh criticism, and requires people to tell her how beautiful and perfect she is. Quite vain.

***

part 3:

Shea – At a local café, ordering coffee.

Shea sat by a window in a crowded coffee shop, stylish sunglasses concealing her eyes. She wore a heavy, inconspicuous coat that, in her opinion, did not compliment her figure at all. At least the sunglasses looked pretty.

Glancing around to check if her agent, Dean, was out of view, she smiled. Shea was sure that he wouldn’t be able to see her while he was ordering their coffees. Quickly, she removed the ugly excuse of a coat and delicately placed the sunglasses on top of her head. She shifted her body to show off her curves, and grinned as she heard the excited gasps of recognition.

“Look! It’s Shea Gardner!”
“Mum! Mum! It’s Shea!”
“Hey, isn’t that the singer girl you listen to?”

Shea sighed contentedly, satisfied by the reactions of passer-by’s. She quickly slipped the sunglasses back up her nose, and slid her arms back into the coat – though somewhat reluctantly. Oh, how she loved all the fame and glory of being a pop star.

Shea – Making breakfast

Sticking out her tongue, Shea fiddled with the tripod in front of her. She slotted her phone into the clamp and pressed record, before smiling widely and waving to the camera. Comments began to fill her screen as people joined her livestream.

“Hello, my dear fans! Today, I’ll show you all what I eat for breakfast. Let’s make it together!” she gushed, grabbing the bowl next to her that she’d placed there beforehand. She poured in some milk, and flour, before cracking a few eggs into it and spooning in some sugar. Of course, all of her ingredients were pre-measured and all sitting neatly behind her camera, where her followers couldn’t see.

As Shea cooked her pancake breakfast, she grinned triumphantly. Her stream had reached thousands of views, and likes kept flowing in like waterfalls of praise. Her eyes flicked back to her pancakes, and she realised with a start that she had burnt one. I can’t be seen with that, she though, and carefully flicked the overcooked batter into the bin, smiling and waving to distract her viewers. They’d never know her imperfections, she’d never let them.

Shea – On the phone, late at night.

Shea sat on her bed, makeup removed and hair a mess, as she held her phone to her ear with a scowl.

“What is it, Dean? I need my beauty sleep, you know that!” She grumbled, flicking a stray her from her nightgown.

Dean’s voice filled her ear, “Miss Shea, there is an issue with your show. You see, you scheduled a meeting with your grandparents on the same day as your performance, Would you like me to reschedule it?”

“Yes, do that, will you? The old people can wait. I can’t believe it! Did they really expect me to see them, when I could be singing to my fans?” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Uh, no, Miss Shea. I meant your show. Your grandmother is extremely ill, and she’s asking to see you,” Dean began, but Shea cut him off.

“No, Dean. I don’t know what you’re suggesting, but no. My fans come first. If she’s really that ill, send her over some money from my bank account so she’ll stop bothering me, will you? Thank you my sweet. Ta, ta!” Shea grinned, happy with herself as she placed her phone on her nightstand. She covered her eyes with cucumbers and rested her head on her pillow to sleep.

***

part 4:

Shea Gardner stood in front of a large mirror, admiring herself. She wore a flattering, long-sleeved silver dress that clung to her figure, and complimented her shiny, bright blue eyes. Her blonde hair was curled to perfection, and she grinned.

“Another day of looking stunning!” she said to herself, striking a pose. Suddenly, she heard a sharp knock at her door. The familiar voice of her agent, Dean, called out to her from the other side.

“Miss Shea. Please open the door?” he asked, and Shea heard the impatient clicking of his pen. Dean always carried around a clipboard and a pen, and she found it terribly annoying. Whatever the purpose for it was, she had not a clue. However, after many months with him, she had gotten used to it.

“Coming, Dean!” Shea sang, twirling on the spot before opening the door. Dean stood before her, impeccably dressed in a black suit, as usual. His clipboard and pen were in his hands.

Dean glanced at Shea, the distaste in expression clear. “Miss Shea, we are simply getting coffee. This,” he gestured to her outfit, “is not necessary. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself.”

Shea’s scrunched up her nose. “Dean, honey, I need to look gorgeous for the press. People don’t get famous for being ugly, do they?” She laughed, and rolled her eyes.

But Dean was stubborn- even more stubborn than Shea herself. He reached into his bag and produced one of the ugliest coats that she had ever seen, and a pair of sunglasses. “I expected this from you, but I always hope that for once in your life, you’ll decide to think of something other than fame. Silly of me, to be honest.” He thrust the garments toward her, with a stern look in his eye.

Scowling, Shea reluctantly obliged, slipping her skinny arms inside the coat sleeves. Her complaints were ignored by the tired agent, who instead turned to lead the pop star out the door and into her driver’s car.

After a brisk fifteen minute drive, the car slowed to a stop in front of a coffee shop, that was known for it’s delectable flavours of coffee, and scrumptious sweet snacks. Shea glanced up, reading the sign through the sunglasses Dean had provided.

“Yes! I love this place!” she muttered happily to herself. Dean led her to a small table next to a window, with a stunning view of the park across from the establishment. As Shea sat down, the agent rushed off to place their usual orders.
Shea sighed, feeling as though the coat she was wearing was truly harming her reputation. With a sly glance towards the counter, she realised with a grin that Dean would not be able to see her. Quickly, she removed the atrocious excuse for a coat and admired her pretty silver dress, reminding herself how stunning she was as a famous star.

She basked in the glorious sunlight called fame for as long as she could, savouring every single gasp of recognition before she knew that she had to return to the eye-sore that is the infamous coat. Quickly, she slipped it back onto her slim frame, just in time. Barely a second later, Dean walked back over to the table, clutching two coffees.

Shea gladly accepted her drink, taking a sip and replaying the moment of sunshine in her mind. Oh, how she loved being famous.

back to main post

November 6th + 7th Bidaily
Mentions of su1ci1dal thoughts and d3pr3ssion

It's weird, really. Marbles had a habit of studying under the cherry blossom tree at the middle of the school yard. It's a peaceful place, very suitable for a quiet study. But this time it's different. He's studying at the cafeteria. The area is bustling and filled with so much noise. Besides, it's very humid and dirty in the cafeteria, but Marbles is still revising beside a garbage can, for whatever reason. “Marbles, what are you doing here?” Weren asked kindly, helping Marbles to his feet. “Oh, nothing. I'm just exhausted just to walk all the way to the school yard.” he replied with a warm, sunny-like smile on his face. Weren looked disheveled, it was clear he was looking for Marbles for a while. “Well, okay. I mean, you can rest at our dorm. It's very close by, you should rest there.” Marbles nodded, clearly lightheaded since the area he was in was out in the sun.

They arrived back at the dorm, with Weren supporting Marbles on his shoulder. Immediately after entering the room, Marbles collapsed on the bed. “Ah, it's so much more cooling indoors…” Marbles said in a satisfied tone. Something stirred in Weren, Marbles was not studying out in the cafeteria because of his choice. “Marbles, have some of my water.” Weren passed him a cold water bottle, Marbles took it with much satisfaction, “Oh my, thank you, Weren!” With that, Marbles drank hastily. He did not stop until the water was left with a quarter where it had started. “No, I shouldn't drink your water. It's very rude…” Marbles mumbled to himself as he gave the bottle back to Weren. Quietly, Weren shed a tear. Everything sorta made sense to him. “No, Marbles. It's okay.” Marbles appears to not acknowledged it, as he took his own water bottle and began to sip slowly. Something else is going on in his mind, Weren could tell by the look in Marbles' eyes. They look distant and empty. Suddenly, Weren realized what Marbles was about to do. “Marbles, no! Don't do i-” Too late. The water bottle fell from his hands, as Marbles crumpled onto the ground, unconscious.

“He's going to be okay. I will have to let you with the task to remind him that he should be careful with what he's drinking. It's very dangerous if this happens again.” The nurse said to Weren, who nodded with his hands in his head, not fully taking in whatever the nurse is saying. It was horrible that Marbles did this. The liquid in the bottle he drank was not water, but hydrogen peroxide, a deadly poison. Weren clearly knew Marbles had not accidentally replace water with the poison. He sat by Marbles' bedside, looking at his friend. If Weren were a minute late, Marbles would be gone. And Weren's life would be empty forever. “Marbles, you idiot. Why did you do this?” Weren asked Marbles - who was waking up now - even though Weren knew the answer before Marbles spoke. “It was the usual. I'm a failure. I didn't stand up to Martin. Now I faced all this. Isn't it better if I'm dead? I'm completely useless.” With that, he started sobbing. Weren caressed Marbles gently. It was both comforting and disgusting at the same time. “But if you die, people who love you will be very devastated.” Weren said slowly, not looking at Marbles straight in the eye. Marbles chuckled gently, “Weren, no one loves me, except for you of course.” Marbles smiled gently, a burning sensation formed in Weren's gut. “Wh-what?! Nooooo….” Weren flushed so much that his face was a burning crimson. “Weren, stop lying. You like me. I've suspected that long ago.” Marbles approached Weren as his mental health gets better with each step. Weren is the only one who can comfort him. After all, Marbles also liked him for too long, maybe longer than Weren had liked him. “But it's okay.” Marbles said as he tiptoed to meet Weren face to face, both of them blushing profusely. “You are not the only one in love.” Tears fall out of his eyes, as Weren's gentle touch swiped them away.

697 words

weekly 1

part 1

lines of ronan (taylor’s version)

And what if I really thought some miracle
Would see us through?
What if the miracle was even getting
One moment with you?

brainstorm
she believes the world is good
her family loves her greatly
she doesn’t know what it would be like to not feel loved, and this is very intentional on the part of those around her
she has firm beliefs and is very strong-willed (44 words)

“Happy Halloween, Papa!” Six-year-old Marilla Potter calls into her father’s workshop, spreading her arms wide to show off the fairy wings made for her by her mother and godfather.
James Potter lifts his smallest child into the his arms and ruffles her short, red hair. “Happy Halloween to you too, sapling. I love spending holidays with you, daughter of mine.”
Marilla gives her father a kiss on the cheek and then proceeds to jump out of his arms.
Her father does his best to catch her, exclaiming, “Whoa, careful, Willa!”
But the agile young girl lands safely and gracefully on her feet, like the ballerinas she’s been obsessed with watching on television lately.
“Will you let me paint your face for Halloween, Papa?” she asks. “Uncle Remus let me make him an alien. And Harry painted spiders on Uncle Peter’s face.”
“Let me guess, Mama and Padfoot said no?”
Marilla nods solemnly. “They’re being boring today. Everyone needs a costume on Halloween!”
“I agree with you, Sapling,” James says. “Go get your paints, make me something scary, alright?”
“Okay, Papa!” Marilla says, skipping excitedly out of the room to go find her painting kit. She does a little pirouette as she disappears down the hallway, and James Potter smiles lovingly at his adorable little girl. (215 words)

part 2

character sheet
name: Marilla “Willa” Potter
pronouns: she/her
sexuality: unknown
species: mixed heritage wizard
birth date: May 13, 1982
eye colour: hazel
hair colour: red
skin colour: white
strengths: hopeful and optimistic, hard-working and strong-willed
weaknesses: easily overwhelmed by emotions, struggles academically because she has some trouble focusing and memorizing things.
communication: she often talks very quickly and especially when she was younger used terms and analogies that were hard to make sense of, so it took practice to understand her.
family members: james potter (father), lily evans potter (mother), harry potter (brother), remus lupin (godfather, honorary uncle), sirius black (honorary uncle), peter pettigrew (honorary uncle)
physical appearance: pale skin, lightly dusted with freckles. short, choppy dark red hair. slightly below average in height, small and skinny. (128 words)

part 3

scenario 1

“Hey!” I hear a little girl shout from down the hallway towards the pool. “That’s mine, give it back!”
“I’m afraid I cant do that,” says a boy, obviously much older than the girl (and older than me, too. “You can’t have it back because you can’t reach it. You’re just too short.”
“But it’s mine!” The girl protests. “My brother made it for me!”
“Well you’ll just have to go home and tell him it was a waste of his time, won’t you?
I keep waiting for someone, maybe an adult or older kid, to come by, make the boy stop. But nobody else is here, they’re all in the art room.
I may be little but I can’t let this girl be treated unfairly.
I almost stop when I see the boy. He must be eleven or twelve, that’s nearly twice my age which is six and a half.
“Hey!” I shout, trying to act like a big kid, like my brother who’s eight and his friends. “You’re being mean. You give the doll back or I’m telling an adult!” (182 words)

scenario 2

“Harry!” I whisper, leaning over toward the bottom bunk so I can shake my brother’s shoulder. “Harry, wake up. Harry, Harry, Harry!”
“Willa, stop,” he grumbles, shoving my arm away, “I’m awake now, what is it?”
I lean back up into my own bed. “It’s Papa’s birthday. It’s five in the morning so we have two hours before he gets up to decorate the house and make surprises!
“Five in the morning!” Harry exclaims.
“I know, isn’t it wonderful? As long as we’re quiet, he’ll have no idea.”
“How ever did you wake yourself up this early?” Harry asks.
“I didn’t,” I explain. “I just never went to sleep last night.” Before he responds, I jump off the top bunk and head for the door. I do have a ladder, but it’s not any fun to use it.
“I set aside all the decorations and a bunch of art supplies last night after everyone went to sleep,” I explain as I drag Harry down the hallway. “They should still be hidden under the table unless Mama woke up in the middle of the night and moved them. Papa’s going to be so happy!” (193 words)

scenario 3

On Valentine’s Day at daycare, everyone gets assigned someone else to make a card for. It may be because I’m six years old now and it’s my last year being here because I’m getting older, but this year it occurs to me how stupid this is. If you only make someone a card because you’re told to, that doesn’t really mean you care about them, does it? Besides, the kid I got isn’t nice to me because he says I don’t have any common sense and am not going to be able to do anything as good as he can. So instead of making a card for a boy I don’t like just because somebody told me to I’m going to make a card for everyone! That way, I’m being extra nice and everyone will be happy, even him, but I won’t feel weird making a card for a boy who’s mean to me and no one else. I’m making a card for everyone and he’s included in everyone, that’s why he gets a card. Not because I like him. This way, I get to help everyone feel special, whether they’re nice to me or not. (196 words)

part 4
(continuation of scenario 2)

Harry and I cover the kitchen, the dining room, and the living room with streamers and balloons. We tape balloons to the ceiling, even! The way we do this is Harry stands on a chair and then lifts me up high, and I hold the balloon with tape on the end up to the ceiling. So between the balloon and me and Harry and the chair, we’re tall enough to reach the ceiling.
Once we’re satisfied with the state of the balloons and streamers, which are mostly in Gryffindor colours of red and gold, we move on to making the art. Harry writes Happy Birthday in big colourful letters on twenty nine sheets of paper, because that’s how old Papa’s turning. I don’t write any of them because I can’t quite remember how to spell it yet. But I draw flowers and cakes and candles and streamers and balloons and all sorts of beautiful things around the letters. And it’s my drawings that really tie everything together. At least, Harry says that. I don’t even know what that means.
Then, when that’s all done, it’s only a quarter to seven, so Harry decides we need to decorate ourselves too. I brush my hair and put it in little pigtails, then Harry ties red streamers around each one. My hair is too short to do many fancy things with it because I chopped it all off last year, but I can do pigtails.
“It’s kind of funny,” Harry says.
“What is?”
“That I got Papa’s hair and Mama’s eyes, and you got Mama’s hair and Papa’s eyes. We’re opposites.”
“Yeah,” I say, “that is interesting.”
I make a braid out of the streamers and tie it around Harry’s head to be a crown. Then we hide the twenty nine birthday cards all over the house, put all the art supplies back in their boxes, and finally we hid ourselves, under the table, with just three minutes to go before seven.
Mama and Papa walk out of their room and it makes me very happy to see how surprised they look.
“I wonder who made all these lovely decorations,” Mama says as Papa picks up the first birthday card and smiles.
“Maybe it was a ghost,” Papa suggests, “or maybe it was someone pretending to be a ghost.”
“Did the ghost perhaps kidnap our children as well?” Mama asks. “That would be unfortunate, considering I’m quite fond of them.”
Harry turns and looks at me, mouthing the word, “Now.”
We leap up from under the table, dragging the extra streamers with us, and shout, “Happy birthday, Papa!”
“There you are, you little munchkins,” he says, bending over and pulling us into a hug, “I love you both so much.”
“We love you too, Papa,” Harry and I say. “Happy birthday.”
Papa thinks the day is wonderful. I know this because he says so. He collected all the twenty-nine cards and staples them together to make a little booklet. “I’m holding onto this forever,” he says. Mama makes the most delicious cake. Being a potions prodigy tends to come with some talents in the realm of cooking and baking as well. That’s what Papa said. I’m not sure what prodigy or realm mean.
“Did you have a good birthday?” I ask Papa as he helps me get to bed that night.
Papa leans over the edge of the bunk bed and kisses my forehead. “I had the best birthday ever.” (577 words)

(total words: 1535)

Churro's Dailies #6
Bi-daily
(word count: 657)
The trophy sits in the case, looking untouched and shimmering in the sunlight. It fills me with pride every time I look at it, because I know I was the one to touch it, to place it on the shelf. It even give me the right to smirk at Lillian every day.
I walk away from the case. I need to get to my next period. But just before I go, I catch a flicker of Lillian's red hair in the corner of my eye. I remember seeing her cry after I won the trophy back, and her red eyes match her red hair exactly. I snort and move on, away from her.
A hand grips my shoulder just as I turn to leave. I whip around, to tell Lillian to get lost. What I hear from her lips surprise me.
“Will you… will you sit with me… at lunch… today?”
I stare hard at her eyes, wanting to come across as hostile. “What?”
“Will you sit with me at lunch?” She says again. Then she looks down, clutching her arm, cheeks red. I'd never thought Lillian would come across as shy before. “I… I'm sorry, it's okay if you don't want to, I just thought you might- oh, never mind.” Lillian turns around, looking flustered. I've never seen her like this before.
“Wait!” I say, and I don't even know why. “I mean… sure, I guess?”
“Actually?” She says.
“Yeah,” I say.
“W-wow.” She sighs.
We walk to next period together. Lillian messes with her t-shirt. I'm not sure what to say here.
“I…uh, I want to apologize for the way I've been treating you… and everyone else.” She finally breaks the silence.
“Uh… thanks, I guess?” I answer uneasily.
“Yeah.” She says. “I just really, really want to win the Math Cup.
”Don't we all?“
”No. You don't understand.“
”Oh, tell me. I'll listen.“ I say, unsure of what I'm doing anymore.
”My family… is really competitive.“ She starts, fiddling with her backpack straps. ”My mom, especially. If I fail at something, or if someone is better than me at something… well, let's say I've been kind enough to not call CPS.“
I snort, but I know I shouldn't. ”Continue, if you want to.“
”Once, we had to hide all the rulers in the house. They're her favorite… er, weapon.“ Lillian says. She even has little tears in the corners of her eyes. ”And… er, you don't want to see her when she's mad, trust me.“ Lillian shudders. I don't even know why, but I place a hand on her shoulder. ”It's okay. Your mom shouldn't be treating you like this. It's not your fault.“
She moves away from me, startled. My hand falls limp besides me. ”Why are you so nice to me?“ She says, then adds: ”After all I've done to you… and everybody… you deserve the Math Cup trophy. You really do. I've seen you work so hard to up your math levels and I'm over here worrying about if I should call the police on my mom. It's… it is my fault. The way my mom acts. She's frustrated that I don't work hard enough, and that… that… my grades are going to slide… because of me.“ Lillian bursts out crying. Now that I know the whole truth, I don't say something scathing, and my garage full of roasts closes.
I sit down with her, and I pat her back. ”No, seriously, Lillian. I never knew you needed to win this badly. If I did… well, I think I would've helped you improve on your math, and we… we could've been friends a lot earlier.“ I grin.
Lillian looks up from her lap. ”What?“
”We're friends now,“ I repeat.
A strand of her red hair falls down. ”Wait, actually? Wow.“ She smiles. ”You're probably my first real friend.“
I pat her head. ”Yep,“ I say. ”And you're my first friend too."

Bi-daily!

Lilac smiled and nodded her thanks to the man behind the stall as he handed her the two ice cream cups, leading Hunter to a table close by. She handed him his cup and quietly placed her cup on the table. He plopped down into the metal seat gratefully.
She perched on the edge of the seat. She watched Hunter carefully, waiting for his reaction. He leaned back in the seat, and after he took a spoonful of ice cream, his face lit up, “Where’d you find this place? This is awesome!”
“I uh, found it when I had to go on that last minute trip remember?” Lilac then took a bite of her own ice cream; she didn’t really want to go into why she had gone on that trip. It was a way for her to avoid talking.
“Y’know, you gave us all a heart attack when you just disappeared.”
“Yeah, I noticed in the chat.”
The two then quietly continued to eat their ice cream, sitting in companiable silence.
“Where did you go, by the way?” He asked quietly after a minute.
She stared at the ice cream, avoiding eye contact with Hunter for a minute. “Well, some old family friends needed a bit of help, I rushed over.” She avoided eye contact with him, it wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. A half-truth perhaps.
“Oh, could I ask what you did?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s fine. I uhm, I, had to babysit a kid, which is how I found this place,” She gestured loosely at the stall, “thought the kid needed a distraction, his dad wasn’t feeling too well.”
“Ah,” That was all he said, nothing more. She gave an inward sigh of relief; he didn’t seem to want to ask anymore. Good.
She glanced up at him, to give a comforting smile, but it never came as she saw someone pushing his way through the crowd.
She knew her face darkened and Hunter was concerned. She forcefully placed the half-full cup onto the table and pushed her chair back with a screech as metal and concrete slid against one another.
She didn’t flinch. She folded her arms, watching the figure as he came closer.
He looked tired.
He was finally in earshot, and his eyes brightened a little. “Lil? Is that really you?”
“I told you not to call me that.” She said through gritted teeth.
“I thought you’d—”
“I don’t care, father.” The second the words left her mouth she regretted them. She felt Hunter shift behind her.
Hunter he wasn’t—she shouldn’t have—it wasn’t possible.
Her thoughts began to go at a wild frenzy she regretted those words, so, so much. She inwardly kicked herself.
He wasn’t supposed to know that. Nobody was.
“Lilac?” She flinched and looked at Hunter, he looked concerned, “Are you alright? You seem—”
She didn’t say anything before grabbing his wrist and dragging him into the crowd. “Not now.” She looked up at him. “Please.”
She didn’t want to beg, but this wasn’t the time. Not in public. She tugged him along pushing into the crowd, trying to get away from her father.
She didn’t want to talk to him. Now or ever. She wanted to cry. But it wasn’t the time. She could do that later.

6/7 bidaily!!
tw for death, bridges (i think?)
it must've been at least five hours, so of course i breathed a sigh of relief when i saw her figure in the distance - a puffy, pastel coat, and short pigtails. but my heart stopped when i realized that her legs were dangling off of the edge of a very high bridge. i pulled my scarf tighter and ran towards my best friend.
“emile!” i shouted. my voice had probably been lost to the wind, because she didn't react. “hey!” i finally reached her, and tapped her shoulder gently. she tensed, but turned and realized it was just me, my face very red and breathing heavily. not a threat.
“oh. hi, alexis.” i tried to brush off how bored she sounded. i sat myself down not exactly next to her, but comfortably away from the drop into the bay.
“oh, i'm so glad i found you. you have no idea how much i've been running around!” i exclaimed. “uhm. you're really close to the ledge, you know? you okay?”
she glanced down, and laughed without much emotion. “yeah, i've noticed.” she swung her legs into a cross-legged position, facing me. “it's not what you think though, i just love the view here. who sent you looking for me?”
i thought for a moment, not really wanting to say. i went for the ‘friend’ answer - “myself. i care about you, remember?”
emile held my gaze for a little bit. i could tell that she didn't fully believe me. i tried to convince myself it was true. “okay. fair enough,” she finally answered after a long period of silence. “how are you?”
“good. alright, fine, the usual. and you?”
“fantastic.” she turned away from me and went back to staring at the open water, the wind blowing her hair behind her.
“are you sure? you seem really far away. the last i saw you, we were laughing and reading fanfiction – ” she didn't answer, so i went on, a little more gently. “is it about what's going on in town? you've heard what's going on, right?”
“mhm.” she didn't move at all.
“everyone's on edge, you know. it's okay, you can talk to me - my mom didn't want to let me out of the house today because she was so scared i'd be next, but sometimes it's best to look past the possibility and acknowledge the probability.”
“no, that's not it. i know what's going on, but it doesn't really bother me, you know? like, i don't even think it's all true - the last victim was a little boy, maybe he just snuck out to play video games with his friends…” there was a sort of uncertainty in emile's voice. i couldn't quite pinpoint it until the meaning of her words sunk in.
“you've got to be kidding - what do you mean not true? how could you be so heartless?” i took a deep breath to calm myself. “they found his body this morning. along with all the others. it's all real.” something in emile's expression changed. i gave her a little bit of space, since it had taken me a long time to process everything too.
but then the silence became unbearable, and the wind had beaten up my face so bad that it felt like it was burning. i finally noticed that emile was slowly scooting closer to the edge. i grabber her wrist.
“emile?”
“alexis, i swear i'm fine - ”
i didn't let go. “look me in the eye, please. it's all going to be okay, we'll make it through these dark times.”
and suddenly her hand was over mine, her eyes as green as poison digging into my soul. i flinched backwards. i had gone wrong somewhere, because something in my friend had finally snapped.
“you're so oblivious, lex. what dark times? don't you see that i'm having fun? that this is the best i've felt in my entire life? sometimes, little boys have to go, lex.”
the realization finally dawned in my eyes. i stared at her in shock - emile, who had been my friend since primary school, who liked strawberry ice cream and collecting only the best stuffed animals. she could see it too, because she smiled. i tried to pull away, my mom had been too right.
“oh, lex.” the next thing i knew, we were both falling straight towards the water, emile's hand still tightly clamped around my wrist. and she was still smiling.

Churro's Word Wars #3
prompt: we cant eat him, it's Thursday

(word count 163)
“We can't eat him, it's Thursday.” June said.
“Why not? It's Thursday.” Ray replied.
“Exactly. We decided to eat him tomorrow, remember?”
“Why not now?!” Ray pleaded. “Can't have his body lying around forever, can we? What good would that do?”
June thought about his suggestion. “Alright, sure. We can eat him today. It's just because if we don't… they could find out.”
“That's kind of sad…” Ray said.
“What's sad?” June asked.
“It's just… I always thought he was a good pig.” Ray sniffed.
“Oh, brother, it's okay. It's time for him to go. And it isn't any use to keep his body around forever, is it? We've got to get rid of it soon. At least he'll do one last service for us before we bury him, right? Or would you rather put him in the dirt forever?” June tries to comfort her brother.
“Oh well.” Ray smiled. “I think I'd rather have him in my stomach than in a grave.”

Daily Nov. 7th

I drive up to the building in the black of night, squinting to make out the sign that reads “MOTEL”. It’s probably supposed to glow, but hasn’t for a while. I don’t have many other options, though.
I pull into the dingy parking lot with only three functioning parking spaces, and step out of the car. I walk to the door and try to open it, but find it’s stuck. I resort to knocking as loudly as I can.
It takes a moment for someone to come. When the door does open, it reveals a man who looks like he’s truly hit the lowest point of his life.
“Can I help you?” he asks, without an ounce of expression on his face.
“Er, I’m looking for a room,” I say, feeling bad for bothering this man all of a sudden - even though it’s his job. I think.
“Really? Are you sure you actually want to be here?”
“Um…yes?”
He sighs. “Fine. I’ll get you a room.” He stands back, guiding me into the decrepit building. He sits down at a desk, pulling out a dusty book with yellowing pages.
“Name?” he asks.
“Alice. Alice Daniels.”
“How long will you be staying?”
“Just a night.”
“Are you on a road trip?”
“Yeah, I’m heading to San Francisco.”
“What for?”
“Oh, to see - ”
“Wait, shut up. I just remembered I don’t care.”
I frown. “That’s kind of harsh.”
“What do you expect of me? I work,” he gestures to the surrounding room, “here.”
I shrug. “That’s fair, I guess. Why is this place so deserted, anyway?”
“It’s haunted,” he says casually, as he writes my information. “What’s your phone number?”
“Hold on, haunted?” I lean forward, resting my hands on the desk.
“Phone number?”
“No, you said haunted, and I want an explanation.”
“Tell me your phone number and I’ll tell you about it.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
I list off the digits that make up my phone number. Then I give him a pointed glare. “Tell me.”
“Alright, alright, okay - it’s a kind of long story, though.”
“I don’t care.” I lean in closer. “Tell me,” I whisper.
He sighs. “About fifty years ago, there was a hospital. It burned down. The ghosts of the patients caused so much mayhem around town that everyone moved out. The end.”
“That wasn’t a long story! And I want more details, by the way. How did it burn down? Why are the ghosts still…‘haunting’ this town?” I put air quotes around the word haunting as I begin to realize that he’s probably lying to me.
“No one knows how the hospital burned down. Some say it was arson, others say it was an accident. Does it really matter?”
“Haven’t you ever heard any ghost stories? The answer to getting rid of the ghosts is to find out why they’re still around and fix the problem!”
“Don’t you think people tried that? It didn’t work. So stop worrying about it.”
I frown, thinking hard for a moment. Then I realize that I’m probably just being tricked, and that he probably thinks I’m stupid. I let out a huff. “Nevermind. Just show me to my room.”
“Just go down that hall,” he says, pointing to the right. “It’s literally the only one there.”
I don’t even bother to frown anymore, and make my way down the hall. I place my hand on the doorknob, working up the courage to see what kind of trash can I’ll have to -
The door opens on its own.

Dystopias are a broken world, maybe a collapsed society, a plague, a corrupt government, anything where the world has been flipped, the entire picture crooked and ruined. So, which shows it even better? A fantasy element, or a sci-fi twist? Sci-fi, of course! Think about it! Though fantasy brings in elements of adventure and is filled with imagination and creativity, sci-fi is a hit on the head for the reader. I will admit, usually I love fantasy! But here, in dystopian, sci-fi is just better.
You realize, sci-fi kind of feels like a futuristic fantasy, right? Maybe, even something that could happen in the future. So imagine that! You are reading the most crazy dystopian, absolutely plot-twising and page-turning book ever, and you realize it could happen in real life! That my friends, is (I quote myself) ‘a hit on the head for the reader.’
So okay, what’s the big deal? Maybe it will happen in the future, maybe it won’t! Why should I care when fantasy has so much more creativity, mystery, imagination!
Well, if you look at this from my point of view, all genres have that! Fantasy is just known for it. Now keep in mind that this is NOT a biased opinion. As I stated earlier, I LOVE fantasy. As I was saying, all genres of fiction have the element of fantasy in them, just maybe watered down!
Sci-fi however, the possibilities are endless! You want to have dragons? Countries at war create giant flying metal dragons to fight each other that accidentally go rogue and instead of destroying the other country, tries to destroy the whole world.
Now, I know there are quite a few people out there who will probably disagree with this plot, but this came off the top of my head, and I think you get the idea. The point is, the possibilities with sci-fi are endless, making it possible to bend the ‘boring’ genre into something amazing.
After reading this, what do you think? Fantasy, of course, is an amazing genre, and maybe impossible to beat! But hey, I gave it a shot! What’dya think? Fantasy dystopian, or sci-fi dystopian?

daily!

“Where were you last night?” Lily asks, walking up behind me to start out prefect rounds.
Last night was a full moon. I spent last night as a horrifying monster, trapped in a run-down shack trying to tear myself apart. Which Lily can’t know, obviously.
I pretend I don’t quite understand. “Unless I was possessed by some malevolent ghost and nobody’s though to tell me, I’m fairly sure I’ve been at Hogwarts since the last Hogsmeade weekend.”
Lily’s obviously trying to remain serious but she can’t help but laugh at my ghost remark.
“Remus,” she says, “I know you know what I mean.”
I nod, seeing no way of getting out of this.
“You get sick every month,” she continues, “and then you disappear for an evening and come back just fine. Recently the rest of the boys have been joining you.”
I can’t help but ask, “Do you have an explanation for that last bit?”
“I do, actually,” Lily says. “Listen to me.”
“Okay.”
“You disappear once a month. Every month. It’s consistent. As far as I know, you’ve never told anyone why. But Sirius, James, and Peter must know. I think Severus does too. And Dumbledore, McGonagall, Slughorn, and Pomfrey. Correct?”
“Shh!” I say suddenly.
Lily stops in her tracks, which isn’t really what “shh” means, but it works.
“What is it?” She whispers.
“Shh,” I say again, “listen.”
We both stand still and silent, listening. Every once and a while there’s a sort of crinkling paper sound. It wouldn’t be weird, except for two things. One, how long it keeps going on. Two, it’s coming from inside the wall.
“Does one of your secret passages go here?” Lily asks, “Are your friends really stupid enough to mount a chocolate smuggling operation while we’re patrolling the castle?”
I sigh. She’s very right. “Yeah,” I say. “There’s a passage to the basement of Honeydukes that runs through the wall there. They’re probably smuggling chocolate. And we probably shouldn’t call them out because if it is them, the chocolate is for me and if we get them caught I’ll never live it down.”
“All for you?” Lily asks, “Why do you need so much chocolate?” I don’t really question why she’s asking that or what my answer will tell her because I’m too pleased that she’s continuing to walk, turning a blind eye to the smuggling noises.
“It’s not as sketchy as it sounds,” I say, “and Dumbledore actually approves… kind of. It helps me with…” I trail off. It helps me recover from full moons. But I can’t say that.
“What does it help with?” Lily asks. She just doesn’t relent, does she?
“Nothing.”
Lily rolls her eyes. She actually rolls her eyes. “Come on, Remus. Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I do!” I exclaim. “But this is… this is huge. And I’m really not supposed to tell anyone.”
“You don’t have to. Just listen to my theory and tell me if I’m right, okay?”
I sigh. This is Lily. She’s one of my best friends. And the only one of my best friends who doesn’t already know. “Okay. Yes, sure, okay. Do that.”
Lily looks directly at me and says, “You’re a werewolf.”
I stare right back. “Yes.”
Lily smiles. “Good, now we’re getting somewhere.”
“Lily, listen, you—”
Lily shakes her head. “Remus stop. You don’t have to tell me how important it is that I don’t tell anyone, and you don’t have to convince me to still hang out with you. I understand. We’re all good.”
Even as I do it I don’t fully understand how it happens, but I find myself pulling Lily into a hug. “Thank you, Lily,” I say, “Thank you.”

Nickname - Ava
Content - November 6th+7th Daily
Word Count - 600/500
Cabin - Mystery

• …First bi-daily of the session!…
  

• …Head on over to Gigi's workshop…
  

• …write a dialogue where one character reveals something about themselves to another…
  

• …550 words for 400 points, with a bonus 100 points for sharing …
  

Grace sat on the floor of her room, watching the longer hand of the clock ticking. If she focused hard enough on the shorter one, she could see that ticking too. Slowly, slowly, ticking away, just like her patience in herself.

I should tell them.

They'll hate you.

If they're you're true friends they won't.

What if they aren't?

Who cares?

You do. You know you do. You would be nothing without them.

Clutching her hair, she grimaced and buried her head in her knees. She wanted the thoughts to stop. If she could sit in silence forever, she would be much, much happier, but she knew that wouldn't work. Doubts were always creeping around, threatening to make her lose all control over her life.

Tell them, Grace. What kind of friend are you if you don't even trust them?

Why should you trust them when they don't trust you?

You don't know that.

But you know it's true.

“Stop,” she whispered to herself, getting up from the floor and reaching over to her bed to grab the sweater, pulling it on, and walking out of her room. Opening the main door, Grace stepped outside, feeling the rush of the winter air blowing in her face. No cap or gloves to protect her, but she didn't care as she mechanically forced herself to walk. Maybe the cool air would numb all her thoughts, and she could finally be truly alone for once.

She was planning on walking over to the trees, but perhaps her subconscious had thought differently. Sooner than expected, she had reached her friend's house: and she froze. Literally.

The cold had started to take over her senses a few minutes ago. In fact, it took over everything except her cruel thoughts, which still proceeded.

You're going to die alone out here. And nobody is going to know the truth of who you are after all.

It's just a little cold. You can handle it.

Struggling both with conflict and cold, Grace trudged over to the main door and knocked on it, needing the comfort of her friend's heater.


Open the door, please.

She would tell her all of it. She promised herself she would. Right after she coincidentally fell asleep in front of the fireplace, and needed to be sent home the next day, when she would have coincidentally forgotten all about the serious confession she needed to make.

About to pass out, Grace almost laughed with relief when her friend Asu opened the door, shocked at her state. “You Idiot! It's freezing cold-”

“But I know we'll live forever?” Grace tried to joke and divert the topic from herself to something else.

This, however, did not work as she was pulled inside and pushed near the fire to warm her fingers, which had literal frost forming on them.

“Asu, I have to tell you something-” Grace started before her friend wrapped a strangling scarf around her neck, causing her to choke. “Asu I can't breathe-”

“Do I look like I care?” Asu replied, putting a warm woolen cap on her as well. With Grace's pale skin (due to the cold), she almost looked like a kidish snowman. All she needed was a carrot as a nose.

She looked at her dark-haired friend, sighed, and turned her eyes back to the blazing fire. It did not help her fears- they burned into her brain, giving her dark memories from the past.

I'll tell her someday. But not today.

One day I'll tell her I caused that fire.

One day, but not today.

Another clip for my girl story

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