critique for @Stormclaw1875, apologies for being so late! thanksgiving and forums crashing happened :')
anyways, moving on to the critique (267 words)

I really like the way you used the symbolism of the rose, roses are my favorite flower and I use them in writing all the time. Some of the writing did a feel a bit formal and stinted, an easy way to remedy that is to cut out any unnecessary words or phrases, or replace them with more informal variants. For example, saying “tears threatened to spill, and she failed to blink them back,” instead of saying “to no avail.” However, you can use more formal words and phrases with great impact sometimes, so just use your best judgement as to when they'll work in your story without sticking out too much. When we read, our brains become accustomed to seeing certain words, and so they kind of become “invisible,” or background noise, but when you stick more unfamiliar words in, our brain “highlights” them, because they don't look like they belong. It's just something to keep in mind.
Moving on, I like how you portrayed the relationship between Rose and Paul. It feels really real and vivid, and the ending is both heartbreaking and very well written. I absolutely adore the way you used the rose in this part, and how it faded when Paul died, and then using the point of view of the British soldier to “show” Paul's death instead of “tell” it. Showing instead of telling is a valuable part of storytelling, and I love the way you pulled it off.
That about wraps up my critique! Again, sorry for being so late, but I hope this helped at least a little lol

fourth weekly!
part 1

goth fi (271 words)
mel gives a low whistle. “we've arrived.”
well done to her for stating the obvious - we definitely have. behind the curtain was an entirely different dimension. as we stepped through, the temperature dropped about twenty degrees. our new surroundings were beautiful in an eerie way; the sky was dark, but not the way we were used to. it was purple and empty of stars, and the moon was casting little light despite being much larger than usual. the stone columns were crumbling and draped with blackened vines. the spiderwebs that had been built between them glistened with dew and dead insects. there were little blobs of light floating around aimlessly - the spirits that we had been warned of.
“remember,” i remind mel, “get the book. don't upset the spirits. go home.”
she nods. i don't think there was much to disagree with.
we walk across the ruins, careful not to touch or move anything. the book is set on a pedestal on the other side of the realm, and it's washed in silvery light. dozens of moths hover over it protectively.
it's not as far away as i thought, and we reach it pretty easily. i almost cheer, but then decide that it would jinx our luck. mel opens her bag.
“go get it,” she whispers. her eyes are wide with fascination.
i walk up the steps, feeling more powerful with each one. i reach my hand out, slowly, like a scene in a movie - but as soon as i touch the book's pages, i collapse. mel screams. the last thing i see is all of the shadows of the spirits.

surrealism (211 words)
i open my eyes, and instantly feel a huge wave of relief. quite literally - the wave, which is tall and majestic, comes at me, a towering splash of blue in the midst of the blue ocean and the blue sky. i go under the water, where the giant red octopus greets me. he's happy to see me, and i'm happy to see him too. most of all, i'm grateful that i've been allowed to return to my safe space. i give red eight high fives, and listen to whatever he has to tell me. he can see everything from where he is, and i love listening to his tales every time i come. he had a lot to say today, but that's okay because my time is infinite. i then float along wherever the water wants to take me.
i'm swept to a castle next - i don't remember if i've actually been here before, but it's a familiar sight. it's nestled high in the clouds - no, i think it's made of the clouds, and the sky around it is light pink; my favorite color. i walk towards it, trusting the air not to drop me, but it does, and i tumble through the cotton candy sky for the rest of eternity.

cashier memoir (422 words)
it's nine in the morning on a tuesday, and i clocked in about an hour ago. only two customers have come to my register so far, and both were fairly old women. anyone else that had entered our sad walmart had used the self check-out. they had all been in a rush, like they had some place to be. me, i was supposed to be here. this was my job, and i wasn't paid well, but at least i was paid.
i hear the sound of some creaky shopping cart wheels, and i'm blessed with a new customer, at last. i've been bored for the past half-hour, and being on my phone would likely get me fired.
“good morning,” i say. my customer is a young man, dressed in fancy clothing. he looks like he should be somewhere important, or at least in school.
“hi,” he says back, holding out his hand for me to shake. i'm a bit confused, but i take it. he starts loading his stuff onto the rolling thing, which i should know the name of, but don't. he doesn't bring much - i see a kitchen knife, a loaf of bread, a teddy bear, a pack of five knives, and a jewelry set. over the course of my career, i've learned not to question the items brought to me. this situation was no different.
“how are you?” i continue, from the basic cashier script.
“good, good,” he says, placing the plush onto the thing. he chuckles a little bit. “it's been a crazy morning.”
i nod, because i couldn't say the same. “alright, your total is thirty-six dollars and seventy cents.”
he frowns. “aren't the knives half off?”
i fumble around the plastic bag to look at them again. indeed, there's a red sticker with a barcode. i'm not sure how i missed it. “ah, sorry.”
the guy smiles. “no worries - i also have a five dollar coupon.”
i scan both the discounts, and the numbers on the screen change. “okay, your new total is twenty-seven dollars and sixty-three cents.”
he taps his card. “thank you.”
i hand him his bags, and he leaves.
i can still hear the cart rolling, even as he makes his way across the parking lot. i watch him go, as i had nothing better to do.
only, he doesn't seem to have a car. after he tucks his cart away, he opens a portal and walks through it. i frown.
but at last, always refer to rule number one: don't question anything.

utopia (232 words)
we watch our town from the hill. it looks much smaller than it actually is, but it's still bustling with life and happiness. even from afar, i could feel the townspeople's positivity. i sigh.
“wish i had some of that energy,” i say to amelie. she doesn't say anything back - just watches, like me.
everybody views name as the most perfect place in this perfect world, but i don't agree. it feels so… unnatural, i guess. where i'm from, we had real struggles - ones that we were ever trying to fix, and ones that i would never wish upon anywhere. but still, it made us feel real. here, i'm constantly struggling to find a reason for existence.
amelie taps my shoulder lightly, her brown eyes shimmering in the sunlight (which never leaves us). “ready to go?” she asks. i nod, and we begin the long walk back.
when we get to the entrance, it's crowded, as always. a couple of folks come up to us and give us handshakes, smiles plastered on their faces. the children come and give us mini bouquets of flowers, offering to braid our hair with them. suddenly, i'm wondering why i ever doubted name - it's beautiful, and i'm excited to stay here for the rest of my life. so we agree to the braiding and watch the little ones cheer excitedly, because there's always time for fun.

robinsonade (249 words)
i stare at the marks on the rocks. forty seven - the number of days bonnie and i had been stuck on this island. it was slightly impressive, but nothing to be proud about. my stomach groaned for some real food, and my favorite drink, hot lemon tea. nothing on this island could fit our likes though, and it barely fit our needs. the river only had so much freshwater, and the blackberries couldn't grow fast enough. i smelled disgusting, and the cave we were staying in had started to develop leaks. as i'm reflecting on how awfully unlucky i am, bonnie gives a yell.
“boat!” she exclaims excitedly. i think she's kidding at first, but i quickly realize that neither of us were in the mood for that. i run to the shore, and indeed, there's a small wooden boat off in the distance. my heart gives a leap - i don't even see anybody on it yet, and it looks very plain, but it's good to hope. i wave my arms alongside bonnie, yelling, “help!”
the people in the boat perk up and notice us, and they start rowing frantically to our beach. we stopped waving our hands, and collapse onto the sand, exhausted from lack of… everything, really.
then the little brown boat reaches the shore, and it's very clear that we're not rescued. two girls step out, their faces seasick and dirty, and they collapse onto the sand. i look at bonnie, and we sigh. we're doomed.

paranormal (204 words)
i turn on the flashlight. it blinds me at first, the light filling the endless open space. there are spiderwebs covering the entire ceiling, little dead spiders still hanging on despite having passed on. i shudder at that happy thought. i take a step forward, and hear a creak. i'd thought it was just the floorboards at first, but then i hear a slam. the door's locked itself.
i scramble back and bang on it desperately. i know that it's no use - i'm here alone, and there's no one around for miles. no wonder no one wanted this job. i slump against the door, and shiver in fear, no longer wanting to explore. when i look up, there's silvery outlines of people - ghosts. panicking, i scream.
the ghosts are startled too, and i feel sorry for them. i take a few deep breaths to calm myself, and then cry. it takes a moment to get over the shock of it all, but then i glance up again. the ghosts are still there, and they're looking at me expectantly.
“um, hi,” i start to say. my voice is so shaky, that i'm not sure if i'll be able to continue. “nice to meet you all.”

epistolary (223 words)
dear lucille,
hi, it's me again. i know i haven't written to you in a while, and i apologize for that. it's been a really busy week, and i'm excited to give you an update on everything that's happened. first, my plan isn't working. i've moved on to the back-up, but even now, it seems uncertain. we might have to meet up again sooner than i thought. with that being said, be prepared. hopefully this letter reaches you by the twentieth, and if it does, let me know. in order for this one to turn out okay, the mail needs to be fast.
hopefully you're doing well,
em.

dear lucille,
okay, so our mail works. that's great. you know what's not great?
…yeah, we've failed. meet me at the diner, thursday, eight o'clock sharp.
sincerely,
em.

dear lucille,
i didn't get the chance to tell you before we parted abruptly, but the diner was fun. i think your plan might actually have a chance of working. i know this whole situation seems impossible, but it's good to have hope, right? i'll be launching it tomorrow, which would be before you receive this - fingers crossed.
see you again soon?
em.

dear lucille,
it worked. but they're looking for us now. we leave the city by next week, or we both get caught.
love,
em.


part 2 (676 words)
(my form) illu fi <3 // spy fi! // a spy is sent to investigate a murder, and they do anything they can to hide that it was a natural death because they want money :0

for clever (prompt: a team of researchers have just figured out how to convert the canadian wildfires into solar energy, but it has unexpected consequences.)
the fires are uncomfortably close, but we all know not to panic - we're protected by the invisible barrier™ (which i'm a little wary of, since they had been invented two weeks ago). still, their heat feels wildly abnormal for a canadian winter - the land of ice and snow had become no more. our team is hoping to change that today, with our prototype of solar panels for fire. would they work? well, we're about to find out. it would be a game-changer if they did, so we're looking for a yes. still, the chances were fairly low.
maizie and carol started to unload the monstrous piece of machinery from the back of our truck. it looks like something from a work of fiction, which i'm very proud of, but the way. we and our lab had been working on it a couple months after the fire had started, and we had been keeping it a little secret from the public. after all, it was better not to know anything than be disappointed. i supervised my co-workers carefully. it would be a shame if something stupid happened after we had made it this far.
“wow,” carol breathes, setting the machine onto the dead grass. maizie stares at it for a moment longer, before turning around to get the three panels we were starting with.
our driver carefully backs the truck away to give us some more space, and i sit on my knees to be level with my workpiece. “screwdriver, please,” i ask politely.
carol hands me one, and it's a little rusty, but functional nonetheless. i start to wire all the panels together, and sparks start to fly. they make me a bit nervous, it would suck to have yet another flame.
it all comes together, and my friends applaud. i smile. it was good to be proud, because that was just the easy part - the next step would be to attach it to the invisible barrier™, the flames contained inside of it as crazy as ever.
we carefully took the roof of it off, and got blasted with an extreme wave of heat. i go to take a coughing break.
“we got this, come back!” maizie motivates. i take her advice, and return to screwdriver the entire contraption on. it takes a while, but as the saying goes, slow and steady.
now for the moment of truth. john comes out of the van with his camera, recording us.
“ready?” i say, my hand already on the lever. maizie and carol nod. in unison, we go: “three, two, one…”
i flip the lever, and we're met with a powerful blast of what i recognize as solar energy. the light has turned from red to green. we're all flopped on the ground, but that's good - it worked! we all cheer, including john.
but then the blast of solar energy doesn't stop. based on past research, it's supposed to after five-ish seconds, yet it kept on going. our excitement quickly turned into panic.
“get in the van!” john yells urgently. we don't disobey.
we watch through the window as the un-seeable box starts to tremble. and we haven't turned off the switch, which angers me most. john is still recording though, which means we have increased chances of survival.
the fire inside erupts, lightning striking it at the same time. nothing like that had ever happened before, which terrifies us even more. the fire starts to swirl into a tornado, and it feels like an american summer here in the van.
everything stops. our machine and panels are completely barbequed. the fire is contained once again, but… there are baby goats everywhere? they're small and fuzzy, bleating innocently in the toasted field. their teeny horns are made of flame.
carol looks at john. “that's on camera, right?”
he nods slowly, which is nice, because no one would ever believe us.
our discoveries today: the wildfires can indeed be converted to a form of solar energy. the bad news is, it doesn't really want to.



.

bee's writing comp entry - ‘when a blessing becomes a promise’
word count: 1358

1.
On that day when the first glimpse of land appeared on the horizon, the waters themselves seemed to churn with anticipation, foamy Atlantic waves crashing onto the sides of the crowded ship. Mothers and dirty-faced children scrambled to the front of the deck, eager to view the land that would soon become their home.
Out of all the hundreds of people on board, Yitzchok felt that he was the only one who had any doubts about this new life ahead of them – the only one who had to tell himself to stay hopeful as he looked out towards the towering steel buildings, more and more of which became visible every minute.
But he remembered a small village surrounded by mountains, his family struggling within it, and a single blessing that had been given to him before his departure: if he remembered to fear God more than he feared any person, then everything would work out for him.
And with that in mind - as the ship docked and a flood of eager immigrants flowed down onto the ground - Yitzchok picked up the small, tattered bag that held all his belongings, told himself one last time to stay determined, and walked out into a new world.

2.
It had been half a week since that day when Yitzchok had arrived in this alien new world, and he was not a drop closer to understanding the workings of any of it. Not the streets filled with more people and cars than he had ever seen together in his life, the monstrous metal towers that seemed to hold millions upon millions of shops and offices, or the baffling amount of stores that people seemed to acquire nearly everything from, and simply accept as a part of life. And, most importantly, he had not gotten any closer to achieving his primary goal in coming there - finding work.
So, on one bright Tuesday morning, holding his same tattered old bag, Yitzchok set out down the bustling streets of New York in search of a job. It was not difficult to find where to search - nearly half the shops he passed had little flyers stuck to their windows declaring that they were searching for new workers - so he chose one such shop at random and walked inside.

The place he had chosen was a small, dimly lit shoe store, which mostly consisted of boxes haphazardly piled on top of each other, with a few display cases and a small desk at the back.
“Hey, welcome to the shop,” the man at the desk said in a gruff but tired voice, “what are you looking for today? We’ve got shoes in all shapes and sizes.”
“Actually, I saw your sign on the door of the shop, and…” Yitzchok trailed off, not sure of the polite way to indicate that he was looking for work. Luckily, the man seemed to understand what he was looking for, for he said, “Oh, looking for a job, are you? Well, I suppose I could use someone like you here. I’m not asking that much - just sorting some boxes, managing the customers, whatever goes on in here - with the standard hours.”
“As in…?”
“You know, just the usual - about eight hours a day, with a little break every Sunday so we can all go to church. What do you say?”
“Does the break… have to be on that day?”
“What do you mean, kid?” asked the man, beginning to lose his patience. “Of course it does - are you Jewish, or something?”
“I… no…”
“So, are you in or not?”
“…I'll think about it,” Yitzchok said, but hurriedly rushed out the door and back onto the street.

3.
That was a fluke, he thought as he continued his search the following day, it had to have been. It couldn’t be that every job in this cursed city would require him to work every Saturday, and give up the holiest day of his week. As he walked through the city, past streets and buildings that only yesterday had been so grand, so tall, so beautiful, he realized he had begun to see more and more of the imperfections around him: potholes, stains, peeling walls. It served him right, being so sure of himself before.
He thought of that blessing that had been given to him prior to his departure, and realized that he had begun to view it as a promise: a promise that, no matter what happened, he would stay true to his faith - and only if he did that would everything work out for him. Hopefully, he thought as he walked into yet another shop, that promise would not end up being too difficult to keep.
But it did.

4.
Yitzchok walked down a damp, grimy sidewalk, clutching his same tattered, sodden bag as he listened to the sounds of blaring cars in the street and heavy rain falling onto the eaves of shops. He contemplated the eternity - though in reality it had been just over a week - since that day when the streets had seemed paved with gold and the waters had seemed to churn with anticipation. Now, however, the only thing churning with anticipation was his stomach, which had not seen any food over the past twenty-four hours of Yitzchok’s continued search for a job. But as one opportunity after another turned out to combat his core beliefs, his hope that he could find any success in this cold, uncaring, wretched city became slimmer and slimmer.
He thought about what he would say if he came back to his family empty handed, bearing nothing but his shame and that old bag; or, even worse, if he disregarded the blessing - broke the promise he had made. If he decided to conform with everyone else, and take one of the countless jobs that required him to do work on the holiest of days. The very thought made him shudder.

Lost in all these thoughts, Yitzchok hardly noticed the voice that had been talking to him until he was shocked out of his misery by a harsh tap on the shoulder. Turning, he found himself face to face with a tall, brown-haired man in an expensive-looking jacket.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, “what was it you were trying to ask me?”
“No, don’t be!” The man said with an easygoing chuckle. “I was just thinking, you look like you might speak Polish - do you?”
“Pretty well,” Yitzchok responded, not sure where the man was going with this.
“Oh, excellent! Well, I think I’ve got a bit of a proposal for you. You see, I’m the manager of a clothing shop around here, and a lot of the customers I have come from the Polish-speaking area across the Hudson River. But, you know, it’s hard to sell people clothes when you can’t talk to them! So I thought it would be helpful if I had someone who was able to speak Polish, who could go around this community selling my products - someone, luckily, just like you!”
“I…” Yitzchok could not find what to say. A week ago, this would have seemed like the perfect opportunity - but now, having encountered the harsh reality of this world, he could only wait for the inevitable catch.
“So, what do you say, kid? Doesn’t it seem like the perfect job? We’ll give you great pay, you won’t have to sit behind a desk all day, and you’ll even be able to make your own hours - hey, I didn’t even mention that last part before, did I?”
“Make my own hours? As in… I can choose which days I want to work?” Yitzchok asked, not sure whether it would be foolish to get his hopes up now.

“Exactly that - there’s just one catch. This job - it can be a pretty difficult one, if you’re not used to talking to lots and lots of people. So here’s my piece of advice. When you’re going around, selling all these clothes to different people, you just have to remember to fear God more than you fear any of them - and I’m sure everything will work out for you.”
Yitzchok smiled.

note:
this is, pretty much, based on a true story about one of my family members who came to america in the early 1900s in search of a job - although most of the detail and the name in this are fictional, the blessing and the job that the main character - known as a ‘custom peddler’ got were all based on what really happened.
in his first week at this job, he made twelve dollars, and sent ten of it back to his family in europe. having expected him to be earning a much more meager pay, the family sent it back, saying they would not accept money from a crook. it took a letter from his employer at the store to convince them that the money had been honestly earned, and eventually they were able to save up enough money to bring their whole family over to america - and not one of them remained by the time world war ii broke out in europe.

Weekly 4
2355 words – 300 words each!

Surrealism – 305 words

She laughed.
It sounded like the tinkling of sleigh bells, like warm puffs of breath in the air.
It was the warmth that he felt in the cold, persisting under ruddy, smiling cheeks, between hands rubbing together, and fingers intertwined. Fresh and alive, only complimented by the chilly weather around it.
He could see the moon in her laugh, full and bright.
Its light felt less like a mere reflection in the wintertime. It was more like a star, casting its rays down on the barren land, guiding him home.
Home. Her laugh made him feel at home in the cold.
It didn’t feel so lonely anymore, so bitter.
Where was the bite in the wind when you had the warmth of a laugh? It held, deep inside, a quiet flickering flame that couldn’t be extinguished even with all the ice and snow in the world. A spark that made you huddle closer, smiling despite the shivers, daring you to soften in spite of the cold.
The beautiful thing about the winter was that it made the warmth ever so clear. Hazy windows glowing bright in the dark, happy scenes inside. Stepping into a beam of sunlight, even as snow surrounded. Every sip of hot chocolate or soup, warming you from the inside.
Didn’t warmth come from the inside? From some internal ember, constantly burning, but turned blazing with just a flame, just a spark?
Her laugh sparked the embers inside him, lighting a bonfire in his soul, filling him with warmth from the inside out, unbothered by the cold around them, by the bitterness, by the haunting loneliness that whirled around, howling like the wind, no longer felt.
So he held her laugh close, like a candle in the dark, shining through the frosty window panes of his heart, warming him from the inside.

Cli-Fi – (kinda playing around with the mycorrhizal network, the concept of “mother trees”, and mythological ideas of tree spirits) 361 words

The trees were silent.
They held their breath, waiting for what came next. Before, they reached out to her, blithely whispering the secrets of the forest, telling stories of the happenings of the day.
Now, their leaves shuddered in the harsh wind, hushed and cautious. There were no stories to tell today.
They had retreated into themselves, warily waiting for the worst to come. She could feel the weak pulsing of their roots, hidden deep underground — the trees were holding on to the last fragment of comfort they had.
She remembered the day the trees gave up.
She could feel it as she slipped to the forest floor — her lifeblood slowly being drained away.
The roots beneath her feet shuddered. This day was different. The smog in the sky blocked out the sun, and the air felt smothering. The trees were whispering, “something’s coming, something’s coming.”
And then it came.
A lone distress call from the outskirts of the forest, shooting through the roots like an arrow, straight and true, hitting its mark — her.
The tree needed her help: she was the last one left, and-
And suddenly a volley of calls flooded her senses. The roots trembled as the trees cried out. They were being attacked from what felt like every direction, and the forest shook as the sky dimmed.
They tried to put up defenses, but it was too late, too strong.
She gasped, feeling the attacker find her tree, worming its way through her branches, tearing off her leaves. Dizzily, she fell to the merciless forest ground, stripped of everything good, just dry, hard dirt. Leaves fell and swirled around her as she and the forest lost their strength.
That was the day the forest fell.
She remembered dimly shoving her hand in the dirt, and the trees, with the last of their energy, supporting her, shielding her roots that connected them all, and retreating into themselves, falling dormant and still, barely kept alive.
That was the day Nature herself gave up.
And now the trees were silent, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she fell, too, the forest and any last hope dying with her.


Epistolary – 311 words

Grayson,
As of you reading this right now, the circus has moved on and I’ll have left you in England. I regret leaving a friend in a time of need, but I want you to know I’m glad to have reconnected in spite of the occasion. I want to offer some advice that I’ve learned in the past year, as I’m sure due to our similar situations you’ll find it just as useful.
The road to reconnecting with others is difficult. I know how it feels to want to push everyone away. Lets face it, people can be annoying, they can try our patience, and I oftentimes wondered if it was easier to just do away with it all and cease trying. But that’s the most important thing — trying. You have to try every day, try to be kind, try to be patient, know that a friendship can only be formed if you put in the same amount of effort as the other person. And know that the most important thing you can try to do is open yourself up to others. It’s instinct to close yourself off and not let others get close to you, but one of the most meaningful parts of life is forming friendships, letting others get close, having someone know you almost as well as you know yourself. Opening yourself up is hard. I understand. I’d recommend finding someone annoyingly persistent to befriend, or a good group of people who share similar interests.
I don’t really know a lot about the people in your school, but I think someone out there will be worth befriending. Just don’t let me come back to you still being miserable and alone. Just because I’m your friend doesn’t mean that’s enough. (not to degrade myself) But, to put it blatantly, you need more friends. Don’t close yourself off again.
-Lisa


Spy-Fi – 363 words

Jack sat, trying to stay inconspicuous, at an internet cafe on the street corner. He was going for, “random student just trying to finish a book report”, but the words on his computer weren’t about books, the papers he was looking at weren’t assignments, and the headphones he was wearing weren’t blasting music (though that one was actually surprising, because Jack usually listened to music no matter what he was doing). No, Jack wasn’t working on anything remotely related to a book report, but what the other patrons of the internet cafe didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
“Ready for the next door,” came a voice through his headphones.
Jack scrolled through the code that controlled the museum’s security system. He made a little adjustment here, a tiny tweak there, and muttered under his breath, “You have thirty seconds,”, the microphone on his headphones picking up the message.
Yeah, to some, a public location like an internet cafe may not seem like the smartest place to run the hacking part of a heist, and to some, it may seem a little cliche, but to Jack, it was the best he got. And besides, it wasn’t like anyone there spoke English, so he already had a relatively good amount of privacy (though some may be wondering what some hillbilly American kid is doing in a French internet cafe, but he had a cover ready if necessary).
“Yikes, that was rough,” came the voice.
“I don’t wanna know,” Jack muttered. “What’s next?”
“The main security around the room. Quite a bit to disable. I can handle whatever you can’t get.”
Jack cracked his knuckles, scooted in his chair for good measure, and got to work.
…
20 minutes later, someone in a trench coat passed the internet cafe and sat on a bench outside. 5 minutes later, Jack packed up his things and left, walking in the opposite direction from the bench, around the corner, and out of sight.
2 minutes later, the person at the bench got up and left.
And finally, 10 minutes later, Jack met up with her at a park, and she showed him the jewel she stole, grinning and whispering, “mission complete.”



Cashier Memoir – (“convenience store cashier caters to invisible customers!”) 329 words

Pop! My gum snapped satisfyingly. I flipped through the magazine I borrowed from the rack in front of the cash register. That weird morning hour before lunch was always super slow, and there was currently one customer roving the shelves of the convenience store — Mr. Murphy, an elderly regular who always took his sweet time in deciding what he wanted. I checked my watch. He probably wouldn’t be at the register with what he wanted to buy for another 10 minutes. I sighed and kept flipping through the magazine.
Ring ring! The door to the convenience store opened, playing its little mechanical jingle. I glanced up, looking for the new customers, but no one seemed to enter the store. The door stood wide open on its own.
I frowned and picked my way through the store, going to shut the door. When I reached it, an animated voice said, “Yeah, and that’s when I realized I had the wrong house!”
I looked around, confused. I couldn’t see anyone through the windows, and the voice sounded as if it was in the store.
Another voice responded close by, “Wait, so what’d you do?”
“Hello?” I asked as the door swung shut.
“Oh, excuse me, ma’am,” came the first voice. I felt the air shift as if someone walked by me.
“Uhh,” I said intelligently, backing up. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing to see here,” the first voice cheerfully responded.
“She can’t see us, you idiot,” hissed the second.
“That was kind of the point!” the first hissed back.
I slowly retreated to the cash register, “Okay, who are you, and what’s going on!?”
Mr. Murphy, who had made his way to the front of the store where this whole debacle was taking place, suddenly said, “Well they’re invisible of course.”
“What an astute observation,” the second voice deadpanned.
“Can we just shop in peace or what?” the first voice complained.
Mr. Murphy raised his eyebrows at me. “A customer’s a customer.”


Goth-Fi – 363 words

The graveyard was the perfect place for a haunted soul. It was filled with crumpling headstones, moss creeping over them, shaggy, uncut grass seeping in between the cracks. The rolling hills were often covered with fog, ideal for moonlit walks where one pondered the meaning of life and death like a sullen hero of old.
The graveyard was also the perfect place for other reasons, namely, its graves. There was nothing like death to get one in a contemplative mood, and nothing like the bitter melancholy it brought to get one in a right proper sorrowful and grim state of mind.
So yes, the graveyard was the perfect place for a haunted soul, its atmosphere only adding to that feeling that being surrounded by the dead brings. Any graveyard would do, I suppose, as a starting off point, but to really immerse oneself in the business of life and death, one must experience it with all faculties, and there are just some graveyards that fail to appeal to the soul’s aesthetic sense of what death should be.
This graveyard in particular managed to engage all the senses, with its howling winds that whistled in your ears, earthy smell — the smell of freshly turned dirt, wonderfully miserable looking condition, taste of death in the air, and overall feeling of that cold hand on your shoulder, letting you know you’re next. And so, this graveyard was the haunt of the living dead — those doomed to live their lives in this world even if their souls belonged to the next. They were a sad, sad sight, really, stopping at the graves of those they once knew, their grief almost, almost! strong enough to reunite them with those passed on. The graveyard had its grip on them, and once it did, it did not care to let go. But time, as with all things, loosened the graveyard’s grip, slowly prying its cold hand off their shoulders, slowly working its way through the melancholy grave they dug for themselves. And with time, the haunted souls stopped coming to the graveyard, returning once more to the land of the living, their brief interlude with death over, their souls healed.


Bangsian – 323 words

And then I woke up dead. Which was weird because I really thought I would make it. Like, “Death? Ha ha, that only happens to other people. That doesn’t happen to me. That won’t happen to me.”
And just like seemingly everything else, I was wrong. No one escapes death, turns out.
Now, I hear you saying, “Ah, but are you really dead, or just still living somewhere else, eh?”
I’m really dead.
And it's nothing like living.
Let me illustrate.
As I lay there, bleeding out, gasping for breath, I wondered, “is this what it’s like to dle?” Well, no, past me, as technically you’re still alive. The problem is, that weird state where you’re dying is an amalgamation of both living and dying, the process of passing from one state to the other. So dying is still living, and then death is, well, dead.
So as I lay dying, I was still very much alive, but I could feel myself slipping away, and I could feel myself going from one state to another. Life itself seemed to be transforming into something different, but I didn’t know what it was until it happened.
And then I died.
And just like that, everything was different. Life, life has requirements. Death doesn’t.
I literally don’t have a body. My body is dead. I guess I’m just a soul now? Just an idea.
And I’m definitely not living, just existing. Because one of life’s requirements is living, and living is experiencing, y’know, doing stuff. I’m not experiencing anything. I can’t do anything. All that’s left is reflection. It’s just me and my thoughts, and the only material I have for thinking is my miserable life.
So yeah, I’ve hyperanalyzed a lot since I’ve been dead. There’s nothing else to do. And now that I have? Now I’d live it all over again, every ungrateful second, just to be living again.

PART 2: Secret-Santa-Style Story Swap

(I got a prompt from @-WritingIsCool-: “bangsian // A 15 year old girl was murd3red on school premises by a classmate, and her case was never solved, the k1ller never found. Her ghost haunts the school, and seven years after her death, she sees the man responsible for her d3ath walk into the school. As a new teacher.”)

I remember with excruciating clarity when it happened. When I died. All the details are burned into my mind, as clear as if it just happened. Might as well have just happened, I guess, since time doesn’t pass for me anymore. I’ll always be 15 years old, always be stuck at this school.
It was the day of the Art Club meeting, so I was on the campus far later than most of the other students, especially since I had stayed an extra 10 minutes to clean the paintbrushes. The school was like a ghost town, such a drastic contrast to the normally-bustling hallways filled with chatter and rustling papers and the thump of locker doors closing. However, I was used to it; I had stayed late for club meetings before. So I paid no attention to the eerily quiet surroundings, preoccupied by thinking of all the homework I was supposed to finish that night.
I certainly wasn’t expecting the sound of gunshots.
I couldn’t process it fast enough. From across the courtyard, I heard a scream. One of the other Art Club members! I froze, then staggered backward, mentally screaming at my legs to run. I suppose that small motion was enough to catch the shooter’s eye.
There was nothing I could do. All I caught was a glimpse of him as he swivelled toward me, raising his gun once more. Absurdly, my last coherent thought was trying to remember his name. I knew I recognized him; I think we had the same Biology class. Very pale blonde hair, a small scar above his right eyebrow…
And then a terrible pain tore through my chest, and my vision darkened. I was dead before the ambulance arrived.
I awoke with a jolt, finding myself floating just above my body, motionless and soaked in blood. I was in shock and couldn’t quite believe what had happened. However, realizing that I was a ghost did not startle me; it felt natural, if a little foggy, just like the grogginess after awakening from a long sleep. The trauma of my death was soon softened by this haze, until all that was left was a thin miasma of sorrow. Ghosts aren’t scary. They’re just sad.
In the weeks that followed, the school was closed. Instead of the familiar rush of students, the hallways were filled with police officers and crime scene investigators. I hung around them, listening to what they had to say about my untimely demise.
The other student- the one from the Art Club- had also been shot. They had lived, but their brain was damaged beyond the point of repair. They might as well have died, because they could no longer move, no longer speak. Their heart still beat, but they were a ghost in their own body.
Of course, this meant that there were no other witnesses to the shooting. Try as they might, the officials could not track down the killer. There had been a recent prison breakout, apparently, and they assumed it had been one of the escaped criminals. But no- It was someone my own age. A classmate.
I wished I could tell them, but I was intangible, incorporeal, unable to interact with the world that used to be mine.
They would never know the answer, never solve my case.
All I could do was watch.
Time passed, and eventually, the school reopened. I took solace in the fact that life moved on, that new students came to fill the hole of my absence. I wasn’t the only one missing, though. The kid who had fired the gun was nowhere to be seen.
But it was not the last I saw of my killer.
Seven years later, I had witnessed so many others grow up and graduate. Teachers, too, retired and got replaced. And still, I stayed right where I died, haunting the campus, unknown and unseen.
One year, the long, lonely summer ended, and a new first day of school was about to roll around again. The World History teacher had moved away at the end of the last year, and I awaited the new teacher with curiosity.
It turned out to be a young man, his hair a light blonde and his hands twitchy, energetic.
Wait… that same pale hair… it couldn’t be! Could it? No, surely I only imagined the resemblance. My past haunted me every day, but it didn’t mean that it was real.
However, I looked closely, and sure enough, there was a small scar above his right eyebrow. A chill pervaded my ghostly form.
It was him.
And there was nothing I could do.

4:
Total Word Count: 2158/1800
Part One Word Count 1,626/1400
Goth-Fi: 211/200
Surrealism: 299/200
Utopian: 218/200
Gaslamp: 216/200
Bangsian: 233/200
Solarpunk: 232/200
Epistolary: 217/200
Part Two Word Count: 532/400
Date Completed (for me): 11/30/23
Time Completed (UTC): 11:50PM
Time Completed (MST): 4:50pm
Link to Booklet: https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/7622714/

Part One:
Goth-Fi:
Julian glanced around the chamber and shivered as the skulls of dead men stared back at him. The lamp he held out in front of him flickered as the wind from above hissed onto him from above.
He sighed and tried figuring out where he had ended up.
The place was compact and long, a beautiful echo chamber that made every sound, no matter how quiet, clear, and crisp.
Julian approached a bookshelf that held more scrolls than he thought was possible. He grabbed one from the cabinet and unrolled it.
‘As always, my dear Rosetta has pleased me greatly with her meals tonight.’
Julian made a face and put that one away before reading further. Sounded like some guy’s sappy diary entry about his wife. He picked up another one and opened it.
‘Phillip never fails to destroy everything around him. He nearly gave me away to the Count and I had to lie through my teeth the whole time. He never fails to impress me with how easily he is able to nearly fumble my whole mission. Luckily he seems to be utterly infatuated with the meals I cook him, so hopefully I can make that work to my advantage.’
Julian smirked and continued reading. This could be something.

Surrealism:
Marjorie set down the jug and wrote on the label with a brown marker. “Blue flower honey.” The jar buzzed whenever she touched it, and she anxiously checked the lid to make sure it was still screwed on tightly.
She had worked hard on this honey. Each and every bee was her close friend, and her whole life had been spent trying to perfect her craft.
Suddenly, a man strode into her shop and strutted over to the counter. Without warning or ask of permission, he lunged for the jar and the cap flew off. The honey jumped out of the jar and the man greedily scooped handfuls of it into his own jar he now had at his side, filled with a muddled arrangement of other talented honey makers honey. The colors were blending together, swirling into an icky grey.
Marjorie was powerless to stop the man, who closed the jar and shook it around gleefully.
Marjorie suddenly found herself on the other side of the counter, where the man had the jar on display. The whole shop was changed. Her own advertisements were shoved into the corner as the man's face appeared everywhere. His real face accosted her a second later, “Care to have some of my beautiful, homemade honey? I’m sure that you’d love it!”
Marjorie shook her head and shoved him aside. She stomped outside. Perhaps someone could help her stand up to this thief.
But when she went outside, the familiar town she called home was now covered in more of the man’s posters and signs. Her fellow honey makers' shops were now overridden with intrusive advertisements.
She gulped. She had no way of stopping this. Soon the man would want more honey, and she would have no choice but to provide it.

Utopian:
The sun glittered down on the quaint little town. Sally strode along the pathway, holding a basket of fresh eggs she had just picked up from the local farmer. A boy her age waved to her, and she waved back with a huge smile on her face.
The lovely little place was kept in a cute bubble that floated amongst the nothingness around it.
Sally passed the church at the center of the town. The beacon of hope for everyone there. It provided salvation from the impending doom. It kept the bubble from popping, and kept everyone in the town nice and safe, free from any sort of suffering.
The leader of the church was out at the front of the building, preaching the good message to anyone who would hear. His loyal followers crowded at his feet and hung onto every word he said.
“As you all know, if we do not continue to feed the generator, we will not be able to maintain the bubble. And you all know what happens when the bubble bursts.”
That phrase was often reiterated throughout his messages.
The preacher continued to preach, and Sally listened to his message as she walked by, happy to hear the message that saved her life.
Life in the bubble could not have been better.

Gaslamp:
Catherine was sitting in her room, writing by the candlelight.
‘John brought me such a lovely gift today. It was a large bouquet of flowers that he got from the local florist. I could not have asked for a better husband. Luckily, he won’t be home tonight while I go out feeding. I know of a perfect target out in another village that I can get to quite quickly. Nobody will miss her.’
She heard a knock on the door and quickly closed her book. Her husband opened the door and stepped inside, “Catherine? May I have a word with you?”
She gave him a smile, “Of course. What is it?”
He sat on the bed and beckoned her to him. She obliged and sat beside him, repeating, “What is it?”
“I wanted to ask you a question that might seem a little strange.”
“Go right ahead, darling, I’m listening.”
He scratched the back of his neck, “There have been… um,” he lowered his voice, “Vampire sightings.”
She feigned surprise. “Oh my, really?”
He nodded. “And because of that, I’m going to try to make an effort to stay home at night more often, so you’re safe.”
Catherine hissed a bit under her breath, “That would be very appreciated, thank you.”
This brought up some… issues.

Bangsian:
Belinda looked at her surroundings, confused and scared. Where was her mother? Where were her children? Her husband?
“Welcome, dear. Please step this way.”
She glanced around, searching anxiously for the voice. But it wasn’t connected to a body. Instead, a shining light appeared in front of her.
“W-where am I?”
“You’re in the afterlife, silly! You died a very heroic death, y’know. So I think you can enter the fields with a feeling of satisfaction and relief.”
“W-what?! No, I didn’t die! Did I?”
“You certainly did, friend. No doubt about it. If you’d likeee you could always see it happen, though this is totally optional.”
Belinda thought for a second, “I’d like to see what happens to my family.”
“Oh but of course! They were with you, weren’t they?”
“Yes…”
The light pulled up a screen, “Well, let’s see, shall we?”
Belinda watched the events play out. There was a fire, and Belinda couldn’t help but admit that what she did was heroic. It had just felt natural at the time, and she was glad to see that her family was safe, far away from the fire as she was crushed by the falling debris.
Belinda wished she could cry, but found that she was physically incapable of doing so.
The light giggled at her attempt, “Well, you ready to see your new home?”
“Sure…” No dwelling on the past now.

Solarpunk:
Sebastian flipped on the switch and spoke into the microphone, “Helllllooo everybody! And welcome to another glorious day in Sol! You’ll find that everything is running smoothly in our beautiful city. A few new inventions have just been released to the public, so be sure to check your local store for these new advancements! No news to report otherwise. All is well, don’t you worry.”
Sebastian ended the broadcast and slumped into his seat, sighing. Another day of lying through his teeth.
He glanced around at his surroundings. The roof was covered in solar panels and light reflected off of every surface imaginable.
He turned toward his girlfriend to his side, “How’s the electricity flow going?”
“Notttt that great-” She hissed, “It’s starting to degrade the wires from the speed that it’s going.”
“Can we fix it?”
“Not discreetly…” She typed on her interface and made faces at it, “The best we can do is two years of hidden maintenance, but we don’t have that much time.”
Sebastian went pale. “How much time do we have?”
“Three months, tops.”
He made a face, “That isn’t good. Didn’t you say that the whole planet could implode?”
“I didddd say that.” She fiddled with her bright red hair and pursed her lips, “If we tried announcing it, we could-”
“No, that won’t work.” He snapped. “If the people know, everything will descend into chaos.”

Epistolary:
Ilene opened the letter with the knife at her side, making a face as she saw the greeting.
“Dearest Ilene,
How are you, darling? It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Well, I wish you well from Syria. I have bought you a tremendous amount of gifts that could only dream of matching your splendor.”
Ilene scoffed and kept reading.
“Aside from that, I suppose that I should give you the inside information about what is going on here. We are selling everything wonderfully and have made many great deals with many a great merchant just like myself. I hope you are doing well, my dear, and I think about you every day.
Your loving partner in everything, Grayson.”
Ilene giggled at her boyfriend’s flowery language and got out a pen and paper to respond.
“Grayson,
I’m glad that you’re doing okay. I’m doing good here too. Nobody has given me any trouble and I’ve held down the fort quite well. Come back soon though, you’re needed. It’s not urgent, but classified. I’ll tell you more when you get back home, okay? The ‘kids’ are doing great and are learning fast.
Ilene.”
Ilene grinned and hoped that her meathead of a boyfriend would understand her secret codes. She sealed up the letter and went out to mail it.

Story swap:
December 25th, 2023
Dear Lauren,
It’s been a whole month since you’ve been gone. Mom’s still a wreck, and Dad’s been crying a lot, which is really weird to see. Christmas sucked too. You know how you always helped mom make those sugar cookies? Well, she didn’t even bother making them this year. All we got was those cruddy store cookies, though I doubt that even if we got the real thing it wouldn’t have been the same. Mom still put up your stocking and even put stuff in it. You got some chocolate and those weird little oranges, as well as some Skittles. Weren't those your favorite? Oh well. Also, Charllotee Charlotte gave you a little Christmas tree. We’re going to put it by your grave thingy tomorrow, along with this letter. Mom’s having us all write letters to you, though I don't really see the point. It’s not like you're going to read them anyway.
But I miss you a lot. Dance class feels really weird without you, and everybody says they miss you too. All of your stuff in your old room is still there, and Mom says that she doesn't want to touch it for a while. She says that it's so we don't disturb your stuff, but I think that it’s just because she’s too sad to look at all the pictures that you have in there. She doesn't really look at any photos of you right now. (Meanwhile, Dad just got caught staring at a family photo album in the basement. He was missing for two hours.)
Anyway, I guess that’s all I have to say. Hope it’s cool up there in heaven.
Love, Lindsey

December 26th, 2023
Dear Lauren,
Okay, so I caught Mom writing you another letter, and since I kinda liked writing the other one, I thought that I might do another one too.
We went to go put the tree by your grave and made little ornaments for it too. Charlotte made a little mushroom guy out of clay. I made a candy cane, since that was easier. Also, the candy cane reminded me of that one time you nearly stabbed me with one you had sharpened. That was scary, but very funny.
Uh I guess that’s everything.
Love, Lindsey

December 31st, 2023
Dear Lauren,
I’m righting writing this at the New Years Party. Nobody wants to play with me (and I don't want to play with them either) and so I’m really bored right now.
Charlotte said something that made me realize something. She said something like, “Didn’t sissy always like this candy?”
I know that sounds weird but I guess it made me think about all the things we never told each other. I can't even remember your favorite color.
I didn't get to spend enough time with you. Mom always got mad at me and you for not playing with each other and I think I’m mad at myself now too.
I don’t like not having you here. It sucks.

January 2nd, 2024
Dear Lauren,
It’s the new year! I always wonder if ghosts celebrate holidays, but I’d hope so. You’d better be having fun up there.
Love, Lindsey

Our Side
I had not seen Nimue since fifth grade. And I had not expected to see her again so soon or so suddenly. Somewhere, I felt excited, happy, and pleased to be with her - a little bit of longing for our simpler days as children. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find that part of myself at the moment. I speculated that this was because of two reasons: one, I was chasing her, my identity unknown; and two, they were going to burn down the tree within the next half hour. At least, that's what the agent over the speaker is telling me.
“Hurry up,” she urges for the fifteenth time, her voice all crackly. You'd think an organization who dares to go against the council would be able to afford high-quality earpieces.
“I know,” I grumble, “this would go a little faster if I could actually focus, you know.” if you could glare daggers through a microphone, I would've. It would be a miracle if I ever made it to the second person on my ‘recruit’ list. But again, I wasn't trying that hard. There were some actions by the rebellion that I supported, and others that I didn't, this one being a primary example of the latter (among many, sadly). The tree was a symbol of peace, planted thousands of years ago and holding many symbolic lanterns in its branches - I quite liked it, and couldn't imagine our village without it. I had wanted to stop them originally, but eventually decided that it wasn't worth my life.
Anyway, back to reason one: the chase. Which wasn't quite the right term for it, but it feels dramatic in a way that I like. Really, I was just following Nimue around in a mossy green cloak, until we had a chance to talk. The rebellion saw her as a good leader, tactician, and strategist. If I recall, she would be too kind to join something that might hurt others. It'll still be worth a shot, they had told me.
Nimue turns around, a coffee in her hand. I try to look as casual as possible, tilting my head to look at the beautiful trees. There was lots of fall foliage to be seen, every leaf was painted shades of gold and orange. It went together beautifully with the warm neutrals of the cottages. The sky was very blue, and I thought about how shameful it would be to cover it with smoke.
I think she noticed me, because it's hard to not look creepy when your face is covered. She starts walking faster, and I let her get a bit ahead of me so as to not draw further suspicion. When she glances back again, I whistle a tune and bend over to pick up an empty can of strawberry juice, tossing it into a recycling can. My actions must not have been very comforting, because as soon as Nimue reaches the split, she runs left. I sigh - the left turn went straight into a dead end, which served as a little storage area for the produce mart. Some people panic under pressure, I guess. I run after her, my boots clicking against the cobblestone path. I take my hood and mask off as I go, because I was aiming for civilized conversation, not something forceful or scary.
The alleyway is covered in shadow. There are boxes of fruit all over the place, which made it smell quite nice. The wooden walls are splintered and mossy, and there's a daisy growing out of one of the cracks. I slow down, just as Nimue turns around. Her eyes widen.
“Maeva?” she asks, with what sounds like disbelief.
My earpiece springs back to life with static, causing me to flinch. “You're doing good, sweetie! remember, be careful with your words,” I don't respond, and turn the microphone a bit away from my face.
“Hi, Nimue.” I'm not sure what else to say. The thought of recruiting her is distant, and instead, I’m overcome with a wave of nostalgia.

It’s Friday evening, and we’re no older than nine. Nimue and I are hanging out in a field, and the sun’s golden light reflects off of the nearby lake’s surface.
“Let’s go down there!” I urge, tugging on her sleeve. We both knew it was off limits, but that had never stopped us.
She giggles. “I thought you’d never ask! Race you there!”
I laugh too, a sound of pure joy that echoes across the serene area. It’s completely empty except for us. We start to run down the hill, the wind blowing my hair back, and we’re both forced to hold on to our matching flower crowns.

She looks at the badge on my cloak and takes a step back. “You're with the rebellion?”
“Associated with, I guess,” I respond, taking an interest in the rocky swirls embedded in the cobblestone. “Look, I'm not here to hurt you, or anything along that line.”
“Never thought you were. But I also assume you're not here for a reunion?”
“I wish I was,” I admit. Then I dive headfirst into the point; “The rebels want you to join them.”
“No way.”
I hear the agent take a sharp breath, but she doesn't say anything. She trusts me, my eloquent words, and I'm almost disappointed in myself for letting her down. Almost. I just nod, though.
“The rebellion is full of unwise sociopaths,” she continues, “They've been hurting the people and the village, and the council doesn't care. It's not going to work.”
I nod again.
Nimue is slightly confused. She tilts her head and adds, ”You're not going to convince me or anything?“
”I guess not.“
”Maeva.“ the agent says angrily.
Nimue thinks for a second. ”Why are you still with them, then? The rebel organization, I mean, if you're really agreeing with me,“ her voice is barely a whisper, so she must've heard the agent. Cheap equipment, I thought, again.
I lower my voice too, keeping a hand over the tiny microphone. ”There are only two sides, and I would die before rejoining the council's. They're even worse, can't you see? All of the - “
She stops me. ”Of course I've noticed.“
I blink. ”If you're not going to join us, and you're not really with the council, then whose side are you on?“ I suddenly realize that I had been asking myself the same question over the last few weeks. I still hadn't come up with an answer - especially when everyone else I had met had such clear opinions. How were you truly supposed to choose between bad, and bad?
”It doesn't have to be only two sides," Nimue tells me, and I finally have the courage to make eye contact. Her eyes are bright blue, exactly as I had remembered them, and they were dead serious. I found myself believing her.

We sit down at the edge of the dock, and let our legs dangle into the water. It’s cold at first, and I let out a shriek. Nimue is still breathless, but she makes an exception to laugh at my pain.
“It’ll get warmer,” she says. I don’t believe her, so I try to sit cross-legged instead, but the evening air is worse somehow. I dip my feet in again. “Told you so!”
I roll my eyes, smiling. “Okay, whatever,”
Nimue gasps, and points out at the water. “Look at the two ducks!”
They’re swimming far from shore, and in a way, they remind me of us. Two friends who always bend the rules to have fun.

“Maeva!” the lady on the other end of the earpiece screams. I jumped. “Reposition your microphone, drop your location, or else die when we find you.”
Nimue winces. “um. Sorry - ”
“No, you're fine,” I reassure her. In a whisper, I add; “I need this thing gone.”
“How can I help?” she whispers back.
I mouth to her: pretend to threaten me, and break the earpiece. A little extreme, perhaps, but it was the only way that they would leave me alone for long enough.
She gives me a quizzical look. I nod encouragingly. She starts screaming: “Oh my gosh, you disgusting rebel! Traitor! Let me go or else!” I give her a thumbs up, so she runs up to me and pins me against a wall. I begin to cough, just to make it a little more realistic.
“No,” I pretend to choke out, just to add to the realism.
The last thing I hear over the earpiece is an angry “Do you not know how to defend yourself?”, before Nimue grabs it and smashes it onto the ground. It shatters into about five pieces, and already looks very broken from my point of view, but Nimue stomps on it anyway.

The ducks leave us.
“They’re heading on an adventure now!” I exclaim.
“Bye bye, ducks,” says Nimue.
“Goodbye!” I wave to them too. They turn back and give a quack.
Nimue turns to look at me, her eyes bright with happiness. “We’ll always be there for each other like that, right?” she asks hopefully.
“Of course! I’ll be on your side, no matter what!” I lean in to give her a hug, and she giggles, nearly falling into the lake.

“You can't leave, can you?” she asks.
“No,” I respond, staring at the earpiece mush wistfully. I felt free, which was funny since I thought I was already free.
“My point is proven, then. They're just as bad as the council.”
“What are you suggesting, then?” I ask, “What did you say about the sides?”
“We make our own side. Starting with you and me, not the council, not the rebels. You're the first person I've met who seems to be against them both - and I'm hoping you're first of many.”
Although I had expected them, her words still leave me in shock. While contemplating her offer, an explosion goes off in the distance, which reminds me that I had forgotten about one crucial plot point; the tree. It suddenly feels a lot warmer than it had before.
“It’s burning,” I say. Nimue knows what I mean, and it makes her even more determined.
“Let’s hurry, then,” she urges, a wild look in her eyes. She offers me her hand, and I take it.

The sun is much lower in the horizon now. I gasp, and shake my friend’s arm urgently.
“We have to go home!” I say, “Oh no, we’re already late –”
“Relax,” Nimue says, “We’ll be fine, we’ll make it in time - let’s go!” I take her hand, and we run back up the hill together, returning to the village. We smile and joke around the entire time, and even though nothing much has changed, I’m certain everything will be fine.

last-minute writing comp entry

You were like a butterfly, so beautiful and light and fragile. You seemed unlike any other, some curious wonder brought into my life. However, you were but temporary, a fleeting breath of summer that I knew would be gone by autumn’s first fallen leaf.
I resisted the urge to net you and cage you, knowing that would only make you die all the faster. I did not want to pin your wings. I was not like all the others with their collections and their studies, claiming wisdom but never really caring, never really seeing you.
Instead, you were the one to catch me, snagging my eye, ensnaring me in a web of fascination, weightless as a daydream.
All I wished was that you would see me back, even if for but a moment.
I should have known better.
Your eyes were blind and your ears were deaf, and you lost my scent among the lilies. Whenever I reached out, you would flutter away, always just out of reach. I wondered what you dreamed about. Did you know the war was over? Did you remember what it meant to live in paradise?
I suppose not.
Like a butterfly aging in reverse, you did not wither, but you changed. Driven to hibernation by the weight of time, you tied yourself up in your own cocoon. It never feels like a trap when you make it yourself, does it? Still, it bound you. You were so close now, but the wall you built between us kept me out.
The others forgot about you, because your colors were dulled, your actions mundane. You might as well have been just another leaf by the wayside. Even I gravitated away after a while, my ephemeral hopes passing on to other wonders.
Yet in your own time, you emerged again. Alas, too late did I notice. You were not quite the same as you were before: paler, heavier, with all the curves and elusive magic of the full moon. No longer a butterfly, but a moth, perhaps, unaccustomed to the beams of sunlight you once belonged to.
Silently, softly, the night called you away. You could not see the way, but then, neither could I. At first, your absence went unrecognized, until the ghost of something missing made me turn around. But by then, you were already gone. The others spoke of the journey you had embarked upon, but still, they did not truly know, and this time, neither did I.
Now no one ever will.
No one but you.
To what lands have you travelled? What paths have you trod, what skies have you flown? If you could tell it all, say all the words you never learned to speak, what stories would you have? What secrets do you keep, shrouded deep in the fog of mystery where you now dwell?
You must have a life out there somewhere, new colors upon your wings and new scars upon your skin. Maybe love discovered a way into your heart after all these seasons, and perhaps you even bore your own eggs, raising them to be all that you never could. I imagine it from time to time, when the wings of memory brush across my mind and remind me of you.
And it brings me hope.
Because, no matter how far away you’ve gone, no matter how much time has passed, no matter how foolish it might be, the hope in me has not died. I still wish just as senselessly as I ever did. You should know better than anyone how such dreams can persist despite the dearth of sense. Perhaps even because of it.
So I’ll still be here, waiting out the seasons, wrapped up in my own chrysalis, where I can live in the memories and the dreams and the hopes. Yes, I’ll be waiting.
In case your wings ever carry you home.

Weekly # 4
Bangsian: 403 words
Death.


The one thing that we all have in common. We can contemplate for years on end, yet as evitable it may seem, it’s the one inevitable thing everyone eventually succumbs to and has to overcome. It’s the sole thing that connects humanity and gives us a reminder that although we have different beliefs, that maybe there is something rooted deep within us that makes us alike. The idea of “what happens next” is one that has never failed to alarm me. It was as if we’re all destined for a certain ending. One that has been written as our fate from the moment we entered this world. No matter how hard someone tries to prevail, the light present in darkness overcomes their body – ushering them on a new journey. It’s hard to think that every little event, every single moment in life, and every memory we have either cherished or loathed, is a valuable stepping stone towards the end.

A couple years ago, my mom passed away – making her way on that journey we call a stepping stone to the end. But honestly, I just wish that I could talk to her, have a chance to see her once more. Amidst all of those thoughts I noticed a pencil in front of me beginning to move. It somehow glided from my desk to where I was sitting on my bed. Petrified, I hid under my blanket, until I heard a reconginzable sweet voice call my name.

“Aliza,” the dulcet voice began, “it’s me, your mom.” I was shocked, how could she be here? Was I just hallucinating? It couldn’t actually be her voice that I heard. I was probably just missing her, that’s all.

“Dad,” I whispered, “what will happen to me after this life? You’ve always said that there will be a day when you’re no longer around. Where will you go? Will I be able to see you again?” My eyes were puffed up and red after wiping away the tears that were endlessly dripping down my cheeks. I knew what he was going to say, and just being able to hear it repeated to me was a sense off comfort I was able to reside in. I had to know the answer to this question - only by knowing this would I be able to figure out what had happened earlier that day. If I had actually heard her voice..

Spy-fi: 325 words
I was on the last case, a mission to find all of those who had gone missing these past days. I feared my safety, but at the same time, I also wanted some comfort. Over the years I’ve come to notice that everyone I care about goes away. Whether that be physically or metaphorically. This sense of pain has always given my a strive for confidence. I have to be the best, be enough for people to actually like me. For them to have a reason to stick along with me, and not leave. I’m used to being alone, spending all my time in the shadows without anyone to be there with me. But, this time was different – I was only the hunt. But instead of finding who committed the crime, I had to cover for them. Yes, I know, not exactly what you would expect, but I loved her so much - I was chasing the love of my life. There was no way I was going to reveal who they truly were, stab them in the back like that. Although I’m a spy, I’m not made up of lies. I try to honour those I love and fight for those who deserve it. And in the case, my lover, they were in the right. I knew it deep down inside, which is why I couldn’t take another second of it. I wrote cases out, tried to avoid it all, but it just didn’t seem to happen - unfortunately, live just ended that way, and she wouldn’t be able to make it. That’s why, I decided I would fight hard. I couldn’t lose anoter person that went the world to me, not again. With that I began tracking down – how could I reverse this crime? Sure, she committed it, but I know her, and she’s not a criminal.. All I have to do is frame someone else, and I guess that always comes with a risk.

Cli-fi: 301 words
The world as we know it was ending, there was nothing left of it. The heart in the core was broken, and there was nothing present in it that could bring it back to life. I cried long nights, wondering when the day would come. The birds stopped singing, the bears stopped dancing – it felt like life on the planet was dying, and I guess it was. I didn’t really want to say it out loud, but I felt like this was all of our fault. We had unleashed suhc a creature, and in doing so, we ruined the world and what is had become. By having these biases, we depleted the waters, hurt the fish, and who knows, we might now have anywhere to go now. Then these creatures came, out of nowhere - taking over our world and everything we knew of it. I didn't have a clue of what to do, but I knew that our world was slowly ending. But by bit, the heartbeat stopped and I could feel the ending draw near. It broke my heart to see our planet in such a state, but I kept doing whatever I could to reverse it. The birds cried, the songs sang broken - it felt like we were done for. Like something was coming and that it couldn't be changed. The long wait kept us there, feeling emotions of hatred and sadness, but nothing could be expressed fully.

Canadiana: 347 words
The crisp winter air blew across my face as I trudged my way home from the bus stop. Today was just rough - it was beginning to snow and people had been repeating the “put a spoon under you pillow” superstition all day in hopes of a snow day the following day. I didn’t care enough to do such a thing, but I would like it if my math test tomorrow was postponed. I feel like we didn’t get enough time to study, and honestly, I haven’t been sleeping that much lately. As I crossed the roundabout, I hastily made my way back to the sidewalk and opened my garage door. I took off my winter coat and boots and placed them neatly in the mudroom before heading off to prepare myself a nice warm snack. I looked around the pantry and found the perfect thing for such cold days - hot chocolate bombs! Before any further consideration, I warmed up some milk and melted the chocolate bomb in the cup. The marshmallows exploded out of it as the chocolate melted, and it gave me a sense of warmth.

I rushed up the stairs and wrapped my arms around my blanket that was lying on my bed, carefully draped in front of my pillows. I quickly went into the washroom to take a quick shower, and came back outside - ready to escape the cold air and get a quick nap. I lay down on bed, looking up at the ceiling. At that moment, life felt perfect, the cold winter season had begun, and from here on out, everything was to get better! Or at least they say.. So let's hope. I personally just love watching the snow slowly fall down from inside, and just the general idea of walking in the snow. What I hate though, is the thought of all the mud that will come from the snow melting - the least favorite time of year in my opinion. But that wasn’t going to happen for a few months, so I decided to treasure this wonderful feeling of tranquility.

Robinosade: 321 words
We all left, packed our knapsacks and set off from our little island. No one loved me, no one neede us. Aunt Marek didn’t need me, she had Lucia and that was all she cared about. I had made a deal with Barnaby’s father - I owed him a lot of money, but I guess they made the cost free just because it was me? Nevertheless, we set off on our long journey. The seas seemed very calm at first, the vibrant teal color mixing in the with the lucious blue waves. There was driftwood and seawood floating everywhere, and I honestly just rummaged around to find something to eat. There was fish leaping everywhere, but I was still happy - just to find an escape. We sailed for what seemed like days, until finally we saw a patch of land in the faroff distance. Just as we were about to make our way to the island, a huge storm pulled over and struck our ship. We were sent into a spiral of disaster, and all of us were flung off the ship into the ocean. From there, everything was honestly a blur.. I don’t remember how we ended up on the island. But all I knew was that I was thankful to be alive after such a dangerous situation. As I slowly regained my conciousness, I tried to look around for Barnaby and his friend, but they were no where to be seen. Our belongings were scattered across the island shore, and I was beginning to regret ever leaving. Why did I have to make such hasty choice? My emotions probabl y got in the way of my actual logical thinking. Suddenly, I heard two voice from behind - it was Barnaby and his friend, suddenly I didn’t feel as lost as I had just a minute ago. There was some hope, we were going to build our own society on this island!

Paranormal: 451 words
I left this world many years ago, one tragic night. Somehow it all happened in a flash, but before I knew it, it was done - I had breathed my last breath, and found myself waking up once more.. Everything seemed normal. I was tucked up in the blankets under my bed, and I lay there, looking up at the ceiling of my room while pondering. I hadn’t noticed that something was wrong.. At least not yet. Suddenly, Malangeri, my personal maid, rushed into the room. Instead of coming in with her normal cup of coffee and radiant smile, she threw herself onto the floor and began weeping. Since I had never seen her in such a state, I motioned towards her, in hopes of comforting her. I called her name, and patted her back. But for some reason, it was as if she didn’t even see me.

“Prince Raksi,” she began hoarsely, “you did not deserve to leave the world in such a way. Your passing has upset many, but we will always remember you. You were like a son to me, and I can’t believe that I won’t be able to see you any longer.”

Suddenly it dawned on me.. I have passed away? Began a new journey? If that was the case, where was I? Was this what happened to people after they died, did they just relive life’s experiences as ghosts? It all came to me- so overwhelming that I just lost it. I wanted nothing to do with this, which is why my first instinct was to run away. But a part of me didn’t allow that. I had to stay, to make sure that everyone was safe and that everyone felt like they belonged. This sense of purpose is the sole thing that kept me in the palace, my home. Although I did fear the day where this purpose would no longer be served, I decided to put those thoughts aside for the time being - right now, I had to be there for my people at all costs.

As I roamed around the castle I saw a lot of people looking sad. I wanted to tell them not to worry, but it wasn’t like anything I said would change that, they couldn’t even hear me. Amidst all this I decided I wanted to see how my brother was taking this information - I cared for him deeply, I didn’t want him to lose his life just by mourning. When I went to his room, I slowly creeped into through the crack in his door. There he was looking out the window, as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Raksi…?” He could somehow see me - now this changes everything.


Epistolary: 408 words
Dear Emma,
How the tides have turned, wouldn’t you agree? Nothing is the same as it used to be and I don’t think it’ll ever go back to how it was. I guess all we can do is hope.

Here I am, lying in bed, unable to move - I hope you are better off. You were always the luckier one when it came to these sorts of things. It hurts me to say that I might not make it next month, but I guess having hope is still important.

I’m sorry for lying to you these past couple of months, but I’m sure you can see the amount of pain I must have been going through. I can’t even begin to imagine how you’ll feel when you’re reading this, so perhaps take it as a confession? I love you, I always have..

I hope you have an amazing life, finding someone who loves you to the moon and back. I hope you find happiness, real joy in your life, to enjoy the little things that make you happy. I know things don’t turn out the way we always expect them to be, which is why I’m writing this letter to you. To tell you just how much I appreciate you, and that you mean the world to me.

Love,
Josh

Dear Josh,
I can’t believe what you’ve been going through. So, all I can say is that I wish I’d known sooner. I regret all the promises that I’ve broken, and all one’s that I never decided to make. Because maybe, just maybe, if I had done that, you would still be alive and healthy.

I’m sorry to hear this, and again it does come as a shock. I know I haven’t been the most approachable person these past couple of months, but I do have to say that although I’ve never expressed it, I love you so much too.

Just the thought of you going away, breathing that final breath- it creates a sadness in my heart that I can’t even begin to describe. An empty hole that can never be filled again. I want you to know that I’m here, and I always will be. We will get through this together, side by side. We will make it past this month. We will come together, and find true happiness - because I love you so much, and I can’t bear to lose you once more.

Love,
Emma

Formatted version of my weekly <3 (with spelling errors that were removed, general formatting for concise reading, and just fixing up the wording - making the changes here as to not change the original for the time being ^^')

Weekly # 4
Bangsian: 403 words
Death.

The one thing that we all have in common. We can contemplate for years on end, yet as evitable it may seem, it’s the one inevitable thing everyone eventually succumbs to and has to overcome. It’s the sole thing that connects humanity and gives us a reminder that although we have different beliefs, that maybe there is something rooted deep within us that makes us alike. The idea of “what happens next” is one that has never failed to alarm me. It was as if we were all destined for a certain ending. One that has been written as our fate from the moment we entered this world. No matter how hard someone tries to prevail, the light present in darkness overcomes their body – ushering them on a new journey. It’s hard to think that every little event, every single moment in life, and every memory we have either cherished or loathed, is a valuable stepping stone towards the end.

A couple of years ago, my mom passed away – making her way on that journey we call a stepping stone to the end. But honestly, I just wish that I could talk to her, and have a chance to see her once more. Amidst all of those thoughts, I noticed a pencil in front of me beginning to move. It somehow glided from my desk to where I was sitting on my bed. Petrified, I hid under my blanket, until I heard a recognizable sweet voice call my name.

“Aliza,” the dulcet voice began, “it’s me, your mom.” I was shocked, how could she be here? Was I just hallucinating? It couldn’t actually be her voice that I heard. I was probably just missing her, that’s all.

“Dad,” I whispered, “what will happen to me after this life? You’ve always said that there will be a day when you’re no longer around. Where will you go? Will I be able to see you again?” My eyes were puffed up and red after wiping away the tears that were endlessly dripping down my cheeks. I knew what he was going to say, and just being able to hear it repeated to me was a sense of comfort I was able to reside in. I had to know the answer to this question - only by knowing this would I be able to figure out what had happened earlier that day. If I had actually heard her voice..

Spy-fi: 325 words
I was on the last case, a mission to find all of those who had gone missing these past days. I feared for my safety, but at the same time, I also wanted some comfort. Over the years I’ve come to notice that everyone I care about goes away. Whether that be physically or metaphorically. This sense of pain has always given me a strive for confidence. I have to be the best, be enough for people to actually like me. For them to have a reason to stick along with me, and not leave. I’m used to being alone, spending all my time in the shadows without anyone to be there with me. But, this time was different – I was on the hunt. But instead of finding who committed the crime, I had to cover for them. Yes, I know, not exactly what you would expect, but I loved her so much - I was chasing the love of my life. There was no way I was going to reveal who they truly were, stab them in the back like that. Although I’m a spy, I’m not made up of lies. I try to honor those I love and fight for those who deserve it. And in the case, of my lover, they were in the right. I knew it deep down inside, which is why I couldn’t take another second of it. I wrote cases out and tried to avoid it all, but it just didn’t seem to happen - unfortunately, life just ended that way, and she wouldn’t be able to make it. That’s why, I decided I would fight hard. I couldn’t lose another person that went the world to me, not again. With that I began tracking down – how could I reverse this crime? Sure, she committed it, but I know her, and she’s not a criminal.. All I have to do is frame someone else, and I guess that always comes with a risk.

Cli-fi: 301 words
The world as we know it was ending, there was nothing left of it. The heart in the core was broken, and there was nothing present in it that could bring it back to life. I cried long nights, wondering when the day would come. The birds stopped singing, the bears stopped dancing – it felt like life on the planet was dying, and I guess it was. I didn’t really want to say it out loud, but I felt like this was all of our fault. We had unleashed such a creature, and in doing so, we ruined the world and what it had become. By having these biases, we depleted the waters and hurt the fish, and who knows, we might now have anywhere to go now. Then these creatures came, out of nowhere - taking over our world and everything we knew of it. I didn't have a clue of what to do, but I knew that our world was slowly ending. But by bit, the heartbeat stopped and I could feel the ending draw near. It broke my heart to see our planet in such a state, but I kept doing whatever I could to reverse it. The birds cried the songs sang broken - it felt like we were done for. Like something was coming and that it couldn't be changed. The long wait kept us there, feeling emotions of hatred and sadness, but nothing could be expressed fully. As the sirens rang, and I rushed out to see the commotion, the heart was in the midst of falling apart. I tried to do everything I could to free to the heart, to bring it back to safety, but it was no use. This was the end, or so I thought. Suddenly, blinding lights shone and…

Canadiana: 347 words
The crisp winter air blew across my face as I trudged my way home from the bus stop. Today was just rough - it was beginning to snow and people had been repeating the “put a spoon under your pillow” superstition all day in hopes of a snow day the following day. I didn’t care enough to do such a thing, but I would like it if my math test tomorrow was postponed. I feel like we didn’t get enough time to study, and honestly, I haven’t been sleeping that much lately. As I crossed the roundabout, I hastily made my way back to the sidewalk and opened my garage door. I took off my winter coat and boots and placed them neatly in the mudroom before heading off to prepare myself a nice warm snack. I looked around the pantry and found the perfect thing for such cold days - hot chocolate bombs! Before any further consideration, I warmed up some milk and melted the chocolate bomb in the cup. The marshmallows exploded out of it as the chocolate melted, and it gave me a sense of warmth.

I rushed up the stairs and wrapped my arms around my blanket that was lying on my bed, carefully draped in front of my pillows. I quickly went into the washroom to take a quick shower and came back outside - ready to escape the cold air and get a quick nap. I lay down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. At that moment, life felt perfect, the cold winter season had begun, and from here on out, everything was to get better! Or at least they say. So let's hope. I personally just love watching the snow slowly fall down from inside, and just the general idea of walking in the snow. What I hate though, is the thought of all the mud that will come from the snow melting - the least favorite time of year in my opinion. But that wasn’t going to happen for a few months, so I decided to treasure this wonderful feeling of tranquility.

Robinosade: 321 words
We all left, packed our knapsacks, and set off from our little island. No one loved me, no one needed us. Aunt Marek didn’t need me, she had Lucia and that was all she cared about. I had made a deal with Barnaby’s father - I owed him a lot of money, but I guess they made the cost-free just because it was me. Nevertheless, we set off on our long journey. The seas seemed very calm at first, the vibrant teal color mixing in the with the luscious blue waves. Driftwood and seaweed were floating everywhere, and I honestly just rummaged around to find something to eat. There were fish leaping everywhere, but I was still happy - just to find an escape. We sailed for what seemed like days until finally, we saw a patch of land in the far-off distance. Just as we were about to make our way to the island, a huge storm pulled over and struck our ship. We were sent into a spiral of disaster, and all of us were flung off the ship into the ocean. From there, everything was honestly a blur.. I don’t remember how we ended up on the island. But all I knew was that I was thankful to be alive after such a dangerous situation. As I slowly regained my consciousness, I tried to look around for Barnaby and his friend, but they were nowhere to be seen. Our belongings were scattered across the island shore, and I was beginning to regret ever leaving. Why did I have to make such a hasty choice? My emotions probably got in the way of my actual logical thinking. Suddenly, I heard two voices from behind - it was Barnaby and his friend, suddenly I didn’t feel as lost as I had just a minute ago. There was some hope, we were going to build our own society on this island!

Paranormal: 451 words
I left this world many years ago, one tragic night. Somehow it all happened in a flash, but before I knew it, it was done - I had breathed my last breath and found myself waking up once more.. Everything seemed normal. I was tucked up in the blankets under my bed, and I lay there, looking up at the ceiling of my room while pondering. I hadn’t noticed that something was wrong.. At least not yet. Suddenly, Malangeri, my personal maid, rushed into the room. Instead of coming in with her normal cup of coffee and radiant smile, she threw herself onto the floor and began weeping. Since I had never seen her in such a state, I motioned towards her, in hopes of comforting her. I called her name and patted her back. But for some reason, it was as if she didn’t even see me.

“Prince Raksi,” she began hoarsely, “you did not deserve to leave the world in such a way. Your passing has upset many, but we will always remember you. You were like a son to me, and I can’t believe that I won’t be able to see you any longer.”

Suddenly it dawned on me.. I have passed away? Began a new journey? If that was the case, where was I? Was this what happened to people after they died, did they just relive life’s experiences as ghosts? It all came to me- so overwhelming that I just lost it. I wanted nothing to do with this, which is why my first instinct was to run away. But a part of me didn’t allow that. I had to stay, to make sure that everyone was safe and that everyone felt like they belonged. This sense of purpose is the sole thing that kept me in the palace, my home. Although I did fear the day when this purpose would no longer be served, I decided to put those thoughts aside for the time being - right now, I had to be there for my people at all costs.

As I roamed around the castle I saw a lot of people looking sad. I wanted to tell them not to worry, but it wasn’t like anything I said would change that, they couldn’t even hear me. Amidst all this I decided I wanted to see how my brother was taking this information - I cared for him deeply, and I didn’t want him to lose his life just by mourning. When I went to his room, I slowly crept in through the crack in his door. There he was looking out the window as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Raksi…?” He could somehow see me - now this changes everything.

Epistolary: 408 words
Dear Emma,
How the tides have turned, wouldn’t you agree? Nothing is the same as it used to be and I don’t think it’ll ever go back to how it was. I guess all we can do is hope.

Here I am, lying in bed, unable to move - I hope you are better off. You were always the luckier one when it came to these sorts of things. It hurts me to say that I might not make it next month, but I guess having hope is still important.

I’m sorry for lying to you these past couple of months, but I’m sure you can see the amount of pain I must have been going through. I can’t even begin to imagine how you’ll feel when you’re reading this, so perhaps take it as a confession? I love you, and I always have..

I hope you have an amazing life, finding someone who loves you to the moon and back. I hope you find happiness, and real joy in your life, to enjoy the little things that make you happy. I know things don’t turn out the way we always expect them to be, which is why I’m writing this letter to you. To tell you just how much I appreciate you, and that you mean the world to me.

Love,
Josh

Dear Josh,
I can’t believe what you’ve been going through. So, all I can say is that I wish I’d known sooner. I regret all the promises that I’ve broken, and all one’s that I never decided to make. Because maybe, just maybe, if I had done that, you would still be alive and healthy.

I’m sorry to hear this, and again it does come as a shock. I know I haven’t been the most approachable person these past couple of months, but I do have to say that although I’ve never expressed it, I love you so much too.

Just the thought of you going away, breathing that final breath- it creates a sadness in my heart that I can’t even begin to describe. An empty hole that can never be filled again. I want you to know that I’m here, and I always will be. We will get through this together, side by side. We will make it past this month. We will come together, and find true happiness - because I love you so much, and I can’t bear to lose you once more.

Love,
Emma

total word count - 2607 words

Thank You Notes || 389 words

To all of SWC:
Thank you all so much for being my support system for yet another month! Y’all have got to be my favorite thing about Scratch, and I just love reading all of your amazing stories and silly jokes and epic storylines… although I’m sad that SWC has ended, I’m so excited to return in March to be with all of you yet again! And also, kudos for dealing with the forums down, it sucked but y’all handled it great <333

To the hosts:
You continue to make SWC an incredible experience, and I’m so grateful that you’re willing to spend so much time fueling this incredible community! Thank you for everything you do to put these sessions together <333

To the Daily Team, Memory Book Creators, QUAILS, Writing comp judges, and any other secret SWC groups that I don’t know exist:
Thank you for bringing so much life and excitement into SWC! With your incredible writing prompts, encouraging the friendly competition, and just helping everyone have the best experience they can get, I’m really glad that y’all are around!

To the Leaders and Co-Leaders:
AAA YOUR CABINS ARE SO AWESOME THO- Thank you for creating such epic cabins and storylines and being so supportive to everyone! (even if you’re encouraging your campers to attack during cabin wars X3) You make this session one to remember, and I’m very thankful to each and every one of you for taking on cabin leading!

To Illu-Fi:
Not only did the entire theme of the cabin captivate me, but the little illu-fi community just radiated wholesome village vibes <3 I had so much fun hanging out with all of you, from finding raiders to staying up late to help out with cabin wars to learning about mushrooms-! Thank you for making this session one to remember!

To Veni, Pepper, and September:
Thank you for creating such a wholesome cabin that was so enjoyable to be a part of! It felt like something was happening every day, and I found the raider clues super fun to do! I love the mushroom village you three created, and your support and kindness made it even better! <333

To Bookie and Chris:
My SWC life and the rest of my Scratch life exist separately most of the time, and you two helped bridge them together ^w^ Thank you so much for joining me this session, and for doing such an epic roleplay! (My faith in multi-person roleplays has been slightly restored-) I hope to hang out with y’all again next session

Again, thank you to everyone!!! You being your awesome selves makes me smile <3

*hurls mangoes* GET THANKED

To EVERYBODY:
Y’all are ABSOLUTELY amazing and this session has been one of my favorites. Every single interaction that I've had with y’all over this month has been either been hilarious, wholesome or just plain amazing. I’m so blessed to be able to do SWC with such a big group of likeminded people. I’m so glad that I found this camp, because it's given me such good memories that I'll cherish far into my life. (I’ll just be in the nursing home ranting about mangoes and cabin wars, just you wait-)

To our amazing Sky Tyrants:
YOU GUYS ARE JUST PLAIN ROLE MODELS. Goodness gracious I can't believe just how awesome this session has been, and it was all organized by you lovely people! I could not be more grateful!

To my dear Steampunk Leaders:
Willow, Red, Luka, I cannot believe just how much I’ve loved being in your cabin. You guys did such an amazing job crafting such an awesome storyline that gripped me from the beginning. I’m so glad to be a part of Steampunk and I’ll cherish this session forever.

To Chris:
I’m so glad you joined SWC this session, and I desperately hope that you’ll return for more! I had so much fun getting way too many words for my own good from our rps and chatting with you about the literally most random things. It’s been such a pleasure!

To Miner:
Gosh I LOVED doing that roleplay with you and Chris. Burnchill is a gem and I adore him- You’re so talented and I’m thrilled that I was able to interact with you more (I really need to make that a point outside of SWC, you’re awesome-)

thank you notes <3 (still a wip :skull:)
noo emojis </3
greetings, legendary swc kings, queens, and anyone in between ) welcome to my thank you notes for the november 2023 session (it's so unbelievable that that's in the past and it's practically december) (edit: this was written a while ago whoops) <3 i love doing these every session because there's never a shortness of awesomeness to gush about, and the fun part is, i'm not even that good at wording thank you notes :eyes: some of these might not seem that long due to that unfortunate fact (i'll try to go for short and sweet over something wordy and meaningless, also sorry for the repetitive vocab hah) (edit/spoiler alert: i failed), but just know that everything i say here is genuine and i am thankful for each and every one of you guys beyond words!! everyone in swc makes swc wonderful, and i still appreciate you very much even if you're not officially on here! this wonderful community of people, cabins, and dailies has gotten me through the month, and i can't begin to imagine how miserable i would be without it i wrote around 21000 words this time around, which is a new record!! i don't know how many dailies i did, but i did three of the weeklies, which in my eyes is pretty good,, this session was also my first time being a leader (after many sessions of co-leading! thank you hosts for this opportunity ), it's been a wonderfully wild ride and one of my most memorable!! i'm hoping to lead again someday, if you're thinking about applying please do it's so so fun, it gives you leadership skills, let's you plan a cabin (gasp), you get to meet even mOre people, idk but it's been fantastic <33 okay i think that's all for here, let's move on to the actual, classic, individual thanksies!!

to the hosts (moonlit, starr, sun, luna, robin, moss):
hello you guys are so cool for running the camp :0 thank you for keeping everything up and running smoothly, that must require so much planning and i really admire you guys for that <3 swc would be impossible (or really messy haha) without your efforts, so thanks again and have an infinite supply of mangoes

to daily team (alia, moonlit, moss, starr, and many others):
this was my first time writing dailies for the daily team (wow many firsts i guess), and it was really fun! i never really realized how many people are involved in making the camp's activities, but it is truly incredible and i appreciate everyone here :0 all of them were so nicely written, and they were really creative too - i don't think there were any that i didn't want to do (i wish i could've gotten to all of them ahh)! the suggestions in the forum were really creative as well ) i really enjoyed the last weekly with unique genres (and the secret santa!!), i had a blast writing mini stories for them all and it's perfect for my teensy attention span and struggle to stick to writing long stories the strike one was also really funny and this is basically an extension of all the positive things i had on my essay :> final thank you to the coordinators for coordinating hehe

to the sorters (robin and quails):
there are always lots of campers every session, and i find it so impressive how you guys manage to get every sign up down :0 thank youuuu it's amazing how you all try to give people what they want too!

to memory book committee (reese, alana, and more):
okay i'm a part of this too but let's overlook that for a bit (thank you for letting me join again, it's been/is being a pleasure ) but i'm so excited for the memory book's release asdfghjkl <3 i love looking back on these every session and obviously that wouldn't be possible without this amazing team of graphic designers, so thanks!! i love how the memory book highlights the uniqueness of each session, and once again i can't wait to see it all together thanks to reese and alana for running everything here!!

i don't know what category this falls under:
not sure if i've already said this somewhere but it never hurts to say it again so here i love the main cabin thumbnail so much!! i love the rest of the purple space theme used for this session as well, all the creatures in little helmets(?) and planets (and the use of the logo as a planet omg!!) is so cute and my eyes have enjoyed feasting upon these graphics this session!!

i don't remember what other categories i'm missing, but if i did miss one i love you guys and i'm so sorry for forgetting! i'm thankful for whatever you do :00 otherwise that should cover all of the committees and stuff, again thank you for making swc exist <33 moving on to cabins!! unfortunately don't have the time to cover all leaders and co-leaders (i wish i did <3) but yeah

adventure (cj & alia):
hello dearest enemies > our rivalry has been really fun this session lol, loved warring you during cabin wars it was very enjoyable <3 enemy ship aside, adventure looked great and i thought the island/robinsonade (ty weekly for expanding my vocab) theme was super cool!! i don't know how to describe it but the purple and green makes me happy and it feels wonderfully adventurey ahah
cj i don't really know you, but you seem like an awesome person and fantastic leader!! the adventure pfps were wow, your art is incredible and icons are iconic!!
alia i've known you for a really long time haha <3 it's amazing we're both still active, you're super kind and also a wonderful leader

dystopian (river, skye, & jasper):
hi guys!! i believe our cabins are neutrals? if i remember correctly, we pretty much remained that way throughout the camp, thanks for not attacking us (often?) ;D love the mirror theme, your cabin intro is really interesting and captivating!! it's unfortunate you guys are stuck there forever though, hoping you get this message
river (i believe we've talked to each other on profiles a while back? :0), skye (also think i've seen you on my/your profile <3), and jasper (pretty sure the last place i've seen you outside of swc was the loki studios lol), i think i've talked to each of you guys a little bit in the past and it's always been fun!!, thank you for developing the really cool mirrorverse cabin :0 you're all really wonderful people, i would love to chat more with yous (interesting substitute for ‘you all’ but okay) sometime in the future! <3

fairy tales (yume, soph, & sarah):
hi fairy friends!! thanks for being allies with illu fi this sesson ) i think you guys betrayed us at least once but i'll be nice and let that slide :eyes: anyways i love your cabin theme, the color palette is *mwah*, the aesthetic is so pretty, and overall everything is so aesthetic and sparkly!! (i wrote about your cabin for that one daily by the way, it was fun :0) the matching pfps are so cuteeee and yeah congrats on moving up the leaderboard <3
yume, soph, sarah, i don't know you guys that well, but i would love to since you all seem so friendly and kind!!
yume i remember talking to you about myth 2021 a while back (edit: and now more recently lol), which i still find crazy because wow that cabin is approaching 3 years :0
soph i loved the art in your leader app!!
and sarah, once again i love the fairy tales pfps

fantasy (moonlit, sun, & summer):
first off your names together sounds epic, which makes your trio even more awesome than it was <3 hello to my favorite friendly vikings!! (or not, you guys definitely attacked us lol) i loveee the httyd theme, and your cabin name is also really really cool (i don't think i see those often)!! the warm color palette and images used for your cabin aesthetic are also really comforting ) please consider giving our mushroom village a dragon :0
moonlit!! you're a really cool hostie and kind person in general (also believe you were part of myth ‘21?? :0) thanks for being awesome <3
sun!! you’re also a super cool hostie :0 i don't know you well but i love your writing!!
summer!! i didn't really know you before this session, but you're so friendly and a fun person to talk to ;D i've definitely told you before, but the pfp maker for fantasy is amazing, love the art!!

folklore (soki, alex, & bee):
hi sailors <3 thanks for maintaining a healthy allyship with us hehe okay starting off, your cabin theme is so unique and i love the idea of basing it on less popular folklore!! the island's individual challenges also seem really cool! in general folklore just looked like a super fun cabin )
soki! i think we've talked a few times but not much? anyways your cabins always look immaculate and you're really nice )
alex i'm pretty sure i've seen you around past sessions too, you seem really awesome
bee, i don't know you well either but you seem cool too!! <3

horror (stingray, soph, & nat):
hello D your cabin captures the element of horror really well (the clown in the thumbnail freaks me out, but that's good because it means it's functional xD)!! i love the scrapbooky font used for everything, once again it feels horror-y combined with everything despised being pretty normal on it's own ^^ the storyline also seems really fun, i hope you guys escaped the funhouse safely!!
stingray, i don't know you that well (but i would love to) :> thanks for making a wonderfully horriffic (in the best way!) cabin lol
soph, i don't know you too well but i love the horror pfps and you seem very nice! <3
nat, i've seen you around before but don't know you either i would love to talk with you someday hehe

illu fi: we'll come back to this later haha (illu fi my beloved)

lit fi (elfie, fae, & clem):
your cabin name is the most fitting because you guys are lit :fire:
…anyways hi <3 you’re actually so awesome i love the cabin intro so much, it’s funny, fits amazingly into your theme and stuff, and also very masterfully written? i don't know if that’s the right way to put it lol but i do enjoy it a lot :0 the use of alice in wonderland, color, and daisies makes me so happy because they fit so well together (and they’re some of my favorite things as well) your cabin is a work of art asdfghjkl truly the loveliest of symposiums!!,
elfie i don’t know you well but i’ve seen you around a lot, you seem wonderful and very genius D the lit fi promo was (is?) a masterpiece and i’d love to get to know you sometime
fae!! i can’t believe the mystery express was one whole year ago? an entire twelve months?? that session was so fun, you’re such a kind and creative leader hehe i was also in lit fi last session (despite being severely inactive :sob and that was a fun session too <3
clem, i don’t know you that much but you seem very nice and your leader app was cool!!

mystery (finley, clev, & mabel):
greetings to this session’s one and only mysterious mansion ;D ok your theme is so cool, (i think) the mansion is often a classic element of mystery and you guys executed it so well with all the activities :0 the clues looked really fun (maybe i was stalking :eyes and they really enhance that mansion storyline!! congrats on maintaining first for a majority of the session hehe
finley, i don’t think we’ve talked much but you seem like a very fantastic person and you’re a great leader )
clev, i don’t really know you either but you seem really friendly!!
mabel, i think we’ve talked a little here and there, you’re so kind and fun <3 also saw you mentioned horror march ‘22 in your notes to me - thanks for being a ghost on our avenue :0 (that was so long ago wow!!)

myth (rockie & em):
hello to the friendly cove!! <3 sorry you guys ended up there but oh well i hope it was nice (would love to be somewhere tropical right now ee) i love the usage of polynesian mythology in your cabin theme, i don’t know a lot about it but it seems really intriguing :0 honestly appreciate that you guys strayed off the path of greek mythology (i’m still obsessed with greek myths haha but i always enjoy seeing new thingssss ) also the parts of the story line were so cool, the writing is so good!!
rockiee <3 you’re a wonderful leader and super nice and friendly, our session together last year (!!) was so much fun your ideas are always the best!!
em, i don’t really know you but you seem like a cool person! huge thanks to you and rockie for creating such a stunning cabin :>

non fi (gigi & nix):

real-fi (niko & dawn):

sci fi (mouse & iris):

script (alana, recca, & indigo):

steampunk (luka, willow, & red):

annnd that is all of the cabins!! (no it’s not i’m not done yet) they all looked wonderful and unique and i loved all of the dedication and effort reflected in them <3 you all are amazing leaders, i genuinely would have had a good time in any of these cabins!! thank you for putting so much into swc also most of these were written a while back, so i apologize if my note to you doesn’t account our more recent interactions xD if i don’t know you well i would love to chat with you more!! you’re all more than welcome to drop by my profile any time you’d like hehe once again thank you everyone for being superb leaders and people!! now it’s time for my favorite cabin ;D /lh

illu fi!! aka the bestest mushroom village <3

dear pepper and september,
aaahhhh i don’t know where to start, i had so much fun leading alongside you guys!! i can’t believe we started building up the village all the way back in september, it’s grown so much since then and it feels like we really created a mini fantasy world (which is so cool) :0 i had an amazing time working with you two, this session has been extremely memorable in the most positive way <3 the session’s over now unfortunately (has been for a while lol) but i would be more than happy to keep in touch with you both eee D a million thanks for coming on this journey with me, i’m so grateful that we got to do all of this together, you guys are the best !!

pepper,
hiii you’ve proven yourself to be a really cool and fun person from the moment i saw your leader app hehe, the bird art and facts were so fun (flying pigs are my favorite) <33 thank you so much for joining the illu fi team!! you’re a fantastic leader and person as a whole, i’m so grateful for all the work you put into our cabin (the raiders activity in particular!! it turned out wonderfully and the clues are so well written ) you’re also very creative and your ideas are always awesome :0

september,
hi!! i loved your leader app also, the layout was stunning (the same can be said for all of your graphic designing - you’re so talented hehe) my best description for it would be eye candy lol ;D anyways you’re such a friendly sweet person!! i’m so grateful that you were a part of our team, many thanks <33 loved all of the comments you left in the village, i hope your sheep army flourishes hehe cabin planning with you was a blast, loveee all your ideas and suggestions!!

once again thank you both for your dedication to illu fi throughout the past months <3 you both are super kind and i seriously can not express how happy i am that we were a team!! thank you thank you thank you infinitely <33

to the lovely illu fi villagers (campers),
you guys are an amazing group of swc-ers, i wish i had the time to write you all individual letters <3 but alas, that’ll probably take until january, and these notes are already severely overdue xD first off, thank you so so much for listing illu fi as a preference if you did!! i was very nervous to see if anyone wanted to be in our little cabin, and it turned out a lot of you did for those of you who didn’t and ended up here anyway, i hope our cabin provided you with a good session secondly you all are so fun, i enjoyed checking the cabin everyday to see the comments and responses to our silly “of the days”! it makes me so happy that you guys took the time to participate in them too ;D so yeah thank you so much for being a part of our mushroom village, you guys really brought it to life and i had a blast this session getting to know everyone!! feel free to come chat with me anytime haha, it’d make my day (i’m not intimidating, i promise lol <3) it’s been a pleasure having you all here!!

i’m pretty sure that concludes the thank you notes at the time i’m writing this they’re not even fully finished haha, they turned out fairly long i guess (rip short and sweet) ^^ sorry if you read through all of that and found it really repetitive and messy, yeah i’m aware lol but don’t really have the energy to edit xD
final thank you to all of the swc contributors, hosts and campers alike!! swc wouldn’t be possible without its community, and it’s quite a wonderful and talented community too <33 i love you guys so much, thanks to everyone for putting in so much hard work and dedication!! this had been truly an amazing session, i’m sad it ended but hey here i am hauling away the best selection of memories ;D see you guys in march!! <3

:00 forums are back

crochet plushies ♡ sophia's march 2024 co-leader app (text version)

| About Me |
Hi! My name is Sophia, and I am a thirteen-year-old girl who uses she/her pronouns and lives in the awesome timezone PST. Currently bracing myself for the great amount of self-reflection that will go into this app, since there will be a lot, haha. So here are some facts about me to start.
I’ve been getting into crocheting a lot lately, as you can tell by the theme of my app! Mainly I’ve been making stuffed animals, but I did crochet a tiny blue handbag one day after I bought my first skeins of yarn (super exciting day!) And I already made four little frogs (so obsessed with them.) This is a pretty new hobby I’ve been picking up, so there’s still so much room for improvement. I hope I can learn to make an actual blanket soon! Overall, I hope I can convey the amazingness of crocheting to you guys through this app <3 Some of my other hobbies besides crocheting include playing the cello, listening to music, reading, writing, graphic designing, and eating my favorite snacks in my bedroom (like dried mangoes :0) Music is a huge part of my life since I’m in a youth orchestra (we’re going on tour next summer!) and a band made up of my friends and my sister’s friends. My band recently had a super fun and successful concert at a senior center. In addition, I love listening to music on my phone, and some of my favorite artists are Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, and Lyn Lapid. My family is really into music (we like to sing and most of us play instruments.)
I love to do other art-related things like making digital drawings and graphic designing mostly on Canva. Although I’m not the best at it, I’m always looking for ways to improve when I have the time.
Moving on to the reading and writing portion of my introduction! I find dystopian a really interesting genre to both read and write about. Dystopian and fantasy are my absolute favorite genres. I also loved reading fairy tales when I was a kid (and I still do) <3
I look forward to Scratch Writing Camp each session starts partly because of the positive impact it has on my writing. SWC motivates me to write a lot and overcome my writer’s block. I think the most important thing it has taught me is to just /write/. I tend to overthink things and want my first draft to be the best one, so I always go back to edit and revise. I never end
up finishing a story because of this. SWC teaches me to let go of my worries and let all my ideas be free

| Experience |
No way this is already my fifth session! Ahh, my very first SWC session in March 2022 seems like such a long time ago!
The past sessions I’ve participated in:
- March 2022: Camp Contemporary (pretty inactive camper)
- July 2022: Dystopian - Castle in the Sky (also inactive camper)
- July 2023: Folklore - The Long Pond Studios (camper)
- November 2023: Horror Funhouse (co-leader)
Last session, being on the leading team for SWC was such a helpful experience. I learned a lot co-leading Horror in November, so if I get selected this session, I’ll do my best to contribute in making the SWC experience fun for everyone <3
In short, I’ve also participated in other Scratch camps including SFWC, SRC, SIC, Pixiedust, and CKS. As for IRL activities, I participate in a leadership class
at my school which definitely benefits my leadership skills. I find that I get many cool opportunities from that class, such as planning fun events for my school and fundraising for small organizations.
Additionally, I am one of the founders of the band I talked about in my introduction, which means I have a lot of tasks (such as hosting band meetings at my house, planning the agenda, and finding sheet music) to do for this role.

| Excerpt |
(tw: mentions of death)
The gigantic translucent screen that hovers over the crowd suddenly beeps loudly. Then the numbers displayed on it change from “11:54” to “11:55”.
The reaction is instant. I hear gasps and yells of shock. Dad puts his head in his hands and my nine-year-old sister, Julianna, begins to wail. Mom, who is the most unwavering person I have met in my life, bursts out crying, along with many others. Whimpers turn into sobs as the thousands of people surrounding me let out their distress, their sadness, their hopelessness.
My own heart beats rapidly against my chest, and although tears want to slip out of the corners of my eyes, I hold them back. I know the Panel is watching us right now, and maybe this is what they will see. My face standing out in the mass of faces, unwilling to show my suffering in these last moments. Because throughout my whole life enduring their oppression, I have never backed down.
Of course, it’s not like they care. They were never built to feel emotions. Sure, it was tried before, but that was a long time ago, when I wasn’t even born. When my parents weren’t even born. It’s been a long one hundred years of AI tyranny. Ever since they killed off every single human member of the government, life has been a roller coaster of misery.
Their plans to destroy the population have been lingering around for decades but never been executed. It’s like they were waiting for the perfect time…
I let out a breath and the air solidifies to become a cloud of dense, white fog. The press of bodies at my side is the only thing that provides warmth in this freezing weather. The harsh gust of wind that passes by causes me and many others to shiver. I think about the people in the crowd. Some of them are ill, some of them are elders, some of them are babies, and the list goes on. My heart aches, thinking about those who are suffering infinitely more than me.
I take my sister’s hand in mine and squeeze it, partly for my own sense of comfort. I don’t bother to tell her “It’s going to be okay” because I know it won’t. I just stare at her fearful face, and then glance at Mom and Dad. Everyone in my extended family is dead. They’re all I have left.
The people surrounding me look despondent and anguished. Every ounce of the anger and defiance I admired when I was younger are drained out of their faces. We all know our fate and accept it. There’s nothing we can do about it.
The realization escapes no one. It’s 11:55, almost 11:56. Five minutes until the end of the world.

| Cabin Preferences |
Some cabins I would not prefer to co-lead are the cabins I’ve already been in before, as I would love to explore other genres. (These cabins include Contemporary, Dystopian, Folklore, and Horror.) However, I understand that is a pretty large amount of cabins, so I would honestly be elated if I get chosen for any cabin at all. Plus, since I’m only applying for co, I don’t need to make the ultimate decision of a cabin theme hehe. (and the main reason I would want a non-repeated genre is because it would help me think out of the box better, if that makes sense)
I would also prefer not to co-lead the Cabin That Will Not Win, just because competition usually gets me going when it’s SWC season. Moving onto what cabins I would prefer! Although every single cabin seems extremely awesome and in the past have had the coolest ideas, these are a few that caught my eye and I think I would do my best in next session: Fairy Tales, Fantasy, Illustrated Fiction, Mythology, and Script. Those are the few that I want really badly, but I am completely fine with the other cabins I haven’t mentioned as well. <3

| Time Dedication |
I think March will be one of my least busiest months of the year because I won’t be having any important events (at least that I can think of at this time.) I’ll be able to dedicate at least an hour a day depending on how much school homework or what classes I have that day. I will make sure to check in on campers and be active for cabin-related activities (or word-adding) if I get chosen as a co-leader.

| Time Management |
Skills - I can get things done quickly if time is short. Also, when something is really urgent, I’m good at handling any stress and avoiding distractions.
Shortcomings - I definitely struggle with prioritization and procrastination. A lot of the time I find myself working on a bunch of things at once because I delayed doing all of them until much later. Therefore, even though I’m good at multitasking, I’m not the best at scheduling and organizing my time so that I can productively complete things bit by bit.

| Strengths + Weaknesses in Collaboration |
Starting with my strengths- I would say I’m very open-minded when it comes to collaborating with others mainly because I’ve been collaborating on Scratch (besides camps as well) for a significantly long time. Similarly, I’m flexible and adaptable. I also understand at what times I am responsible and what times I’m not, for example, I know my place and I don’t get too bossy or decide everything by myself. This is especially important when I’m just a co and even when I’m not, I am considerate of every person’s thoughts and ideas.
I definitely think one of my weaknesses in working with others is decision-making, because I tend to think other people can make better decisions that me. Although I am an active listener and I value others’ ideas, sometimes from a lack of belief in myself, I don’t voice my opinions enough and just let others make decisions instead. Another one of my weaknesses is, like I said before, in time management. I’ve come to realize that usually I put exciting, fun, and sort-of important things as a top priority and the more boring yet important tasks only as something to do later on. Procrastination is definitely something I am still trying to overcome. :’)
Ultimately, I believe I will positively contribute to the leading team just by being a kind and open person who does her part to make a successful cabin and provide insight in certain ideas. There is much to admire about a leader, but one important quality I greatly value is kindness. I’ve seen a tremendous amount of kindness through all the (co)leaders I’ve come across in the many camps I’ve participated in. I believe that kindness is one of the things that make SWC such an enjoyable place. It makes a lot of campers want to come back (and even apply for the next session) because of the welcoming and supportive community. I will embody this trait as a co-leader by being friendly towards everyone during camp and checking in on my campers.

| Cabin Atmosphere |
“An easygoing and supportive cabin including a nice touch of competition along with the encouragement of a healthy balance between SWC and real life.”

| Checkboxes + Questions |
PART A:
( x ) I am applying for both leader and co-leader.
( ✓ ) I am applying only for co-leader.
( ✓ ) I’m willing to share a promotional project for SWC.
PART B:
I don’t believe so!
PART C:
I’ll let the hosts or my leader know about it and possibly ask someone else in authority to step in if all the leaders are inactive. I could also make a brief announcement in my cabin to let the campers know that they can still add words or continue doing any in-cabin activities.

application word count excluding the excerpt: 1478

♛ Chess ♛ Summer's Leader Application

About me:
Hello, I’m Summer! I use she/her pronouns and I am in the GMT time zone. I learnt how to play chess last year and I thoroughly enjoy it. I love spending my time reading, whether that be manga or a dystopian novel, and watching Studio Ghibli films. I have a pet dog called Tilly, who is cute but very
mischievous, and I like to bake. I usually make brownies but I have recently attempted to bake Christmas sugar cookies. I love to listen to music and I am interested in fountain pens and inks, and enjoy writing with them. Finally, I love to write and I am currently writing a royal fiction story with fantasy elements that I have been working on for the last few sessions of SWC!

Experience:
I have participated in SWC five times. In March and November 2020, and in July and November 2023, I participated as a camper. In March 2021, I was a co-leader for the Contemporary cabin, which was a new and exciting experience for me where I developed a lot of leadership skills.
Off-Scratch, I have been in many leadership positions. At school, I volunteer to help students with their reading comprehension and I have helped lead a group of younger students in learning about vaccines and making a presentation that was delivered in front of teachers. I was also form captain and a representative of my form for the school council. These positions have helped me become more confident and learn how to organise tasks properly.
In terms of writing experience, I have been writing for many years in various genres and it is a hobby that I have loved for a long time.

Cabin preferences:
I would prefer to lead the Realistic-Fiction, Historical-Fiction or Romance cabin (not listed in a particular order), as these are the genres I write in the most frequently and have the most experience with. I also have a cabin theme idea that could work with these three genres. I am open to trying other genres as well though! I wouldn’t prefer to lead the Horror, Science-Fiction or Thriller cabins because I am not very familiar with these genres and I do not have a lot of experience in writing in them.
I would be very happy to lead the Cabin that Will Not Win! I have been in this cabin for the last two sessions and I love being able to still partake in SWC without the competitive aspect of the camp. I would be pleased to lead campers in this great experience as I have personally seen how helpful the Cabin that Will Not Win can be for focusing on improving your writing skills and reaching your own personal targets.

Excerpt:
The sweet taste of my tea fills me with joy as I gently lower my teacup back down onto its saucer. The clatter of ceramic is a crime in this haven, but the sight of my surroundings eases the disturbance I feel. Roses in a multitude of shades sway gently in the soft breeze and their fresh scent is just as calming as my drink.

From my seat in my gazebo, I can barely make out the sight of my home; the rows amongst rows of flowers and plants pushing it out of my view. I imagine the tasks and stress of everyone in there: the chefs preparing my family’s dinner, the maids keeping an eye on my younger sister, my father reading about the prevailing issues in our city. I let the thoughts swirl around in my mind, reminding me of my own role as a lady, but I brush over the pages of the book in my hands and push the images out of my head.

This little place, hidden deep in the house’s garden, is my escape. Here I am the same as anybody else in my town or nation, with no titles to my name. I wander into new worlds through my books and forget about the problems that I will have to sort through soon enough. I empathise with characters, whose worlds I can never visit that valiantly conquer their troubles, who never let themselves be knocked down for too long. While reading, I am like everyone who has read this story before: searching for a glimmer of hope in the strength of someone else to help them face their own worries. Even if my problems are on a wider scale than someone else’s, we still share the same comfort and advice that we find in this book.

Yet despite how much I wish for it, I know that I am unable to hide in this paradise forever. One of my maids will find me here, knowing exactly that this is where I disappeared to, and bring me back to reality. My father will update me on the events of the town and, along with his advisors, we will discuss solutions to them, before I will be whisked away to have a lesson from my governess. I can already feel the dismay that I will have throughout these events, and take a drink of my tea.

Those things will happen, of course, but not yet. For now, while I am concealed in my garden, I can relax, and nothing can bother me here; this is the place I am most at ease. I bring my attention back to the page I was reading and smile. I let myself journey in the world of my book and focus solely on the adventure there, without a care for my own problems, even if it’s just for now.

Time dedication:
I will be able to dedicate around an hour each day to SWC. While I will have school and exams during March, I will be able to balance these with leading a cabin in SWC. Apart from that, I have nothing else that will affect my activity during the month.

Time management:
In terms of time management, my strength is that I am able to adapt and focus on my tasks. Even if something were to come up unexpectedly, I would be able to still prioritise my cabin and leading it well. Furthermore, when I have a task to complete I will aim to complete it efficiently and diligently.
On the other hand, my shortcoming is that I am not able to multitask well and work on many different tasks at once, which may overwhelm me at times. I am working on this by organising my time effectively by listing the tasks that I have to get done each day. If needed, I am also trying to ask for help
from others if I feel that I do not have enough time for everything.

Working with others:
My strength is that I am creative. I can come up with various ideas for different things, which is needed in SWC, such as when you are creating a cabin and in-cabin activities for campers. I am also able to build on the ideas of other people and help them develop, which is useful when collaborating with
others, like leading a cabin.
My weakness in working with others is that I can be too controlling. However, I have been committed towards sharing more responsibilities with the people I am working with so that everyone is able to contribute, and becoming more open-minded so I can listen to and consider everybody’s ideas thoroughly.

Quality:
The quality I value most in a leader is compassion and the ability to connect with campers. Throughout my sessions in SWC, I have felt welcomed every time and each leader has been kind and caring, and this has always been something I have admired. I will embody this trait by talking to the campers frequently and checking in on them throughout the month. If they have any questions, or want advice related to writing or SWC, I will reply promptly. I will also create activities for them to take part in and make sure they feel included and enjoy the session by creating a friendly atmosphere in my cabin.

Cabin atmosphere:
Cabin name is a relaxed and comfortable cabin focused on meeting personal goals and improving writing skills, as well as making friends throughout the session.
(161 characters.)

Checkboxes:
A:
☑ I am applying for both leader and co-leader.
☐ I am applying only for co-leader.
☑ I’m willing to share a promotional project for SWC.

B:
I am able to complete all of the leadership responsibilities.

C:
In the case of inactive leadership by myself, I would notify the hosts and my co-leaders, and transfer the position of leader to one of my co-leaders if I am unable to return.
In the case of inactive leadership by a fellow leader, I would try to ask them about their inactivity and notify the hosts as well to confirm what actions should be taken next.
In both scenarios, I would explain to the campers what changes, if any, will be made, such as if a new word count studio is being set up, and fulfil my responsibilities to the best of my ability.

Silvi’s Wild Wonders Co-Leader Application

(839 for just answers)

About Me:
Info:

Blue birds are a commonly known garden bird, that I think are
really pretty. They have a diet of insects, caterpillars
seeds and nuts and there are 20-44 million pairs living
in Britain. They are found all over Britain and only 1.2%
of the population actually migrate in the winter! Some
blue birds are even known to have been found nesting in
street lamps, holes in the wall, letter boxes, pipes and
even a drainpipe!

Hi, I'm Silvi, a 10 (nearly 11) year old dedicated SWCer
and flautist! Ever since I joined SWC last July, I was
blown away by everyone's friendliness and I can't wait
for even more of that this March!
My pronouns are she/her and my timezone is UTC. As
well as adoring writing, I also love playing my flute and
sketching. When I first joined SWC, I felt as if I had been
given a massive warm hug (and lots of mangoes
hehehe) I would like to become a co-leader to help other
people feel that way as well, and really get involved.
I absolutely can't wait for this March!
Now it has become a big part of my life and I don't
know how I ever survived without it! <3333
I have recently started to become quite involved in
sports at my school and I have competed in various
tournaments! I have also started to enjoy much more
drawing along with entering a few writing competitions
outside SWC! I love my weekly Guides session as well!
I can't wait for this new session to start and get back
to writing!

And, obviously, I adore writing. I would love to write
a book when I'm older and SWC had helped to make
that dream more realistic. I'm always reading as it takes
me away from the real world, inspires me and relaxes
me.
I can't wait for this new session to start and get back
to writing!

Have you previously participated in SWC?
Info:
Tulips are, again, a well-known spring flower that come
in various colours. They originate from Turkey, despite
often being thought of coming from Holland. Holland is
the largest producer of tulips in the world. In the 1500s
a botanist at the University of Leiden, The Netherlands,
was given some tulips. He grew them in his garden but
stubbornly refused to sell them at all. His garden was
raided numerous times, and so the tulip industry was
begun.


Have you previously participated in SWC?
Yes, I have completed two sessions so far as a camper.
I have also entered a few ‘Young Writers’ competitions
in all of which I was published! I have also entered
the writing comp twice, and I got a prize in the Juniors.
I don't really do leadership positions outside or on
Scratch. but I see this as a great opportunity to start
doing things like that. I have a vague idea for a novel
to write and I am working on a plan for that now.

I would love to have more leadership positions but my
school doesn't do that sort of thing because I am in
primary school. When I get to high school, I'm looking
forward to more of this!

Cabin Preferences:
Info:

Goldfinches are a brightly coloured garden bird
with a light, fast song. There are only three types
of goldfinch in the air: a European goldfinch (the
one in the background), an American goldfinch and
a Lawrence's goldfinch, discovered in the USA. In
Victorian Britain, caged goldfinches proved to be
increasingly popular and so resulted their numbers
declining dramatically. However their numbers are
now ascending, and there are no worries about these
garden birds. The collective noun for a group of
goldfinches is a charm.

Cabin Preferences:
I don't really mind what cabins that I do lead, because
they are all really nice! I think I would probably go with
Dystopian, Horror or Sci-fi as I'm not as familiar with
those genres.

I really like the idea of The Cabin That Will Not Win as
it is really good for people who don't want to compete
properly and just relax, but for now I think I want to
stick with staying in the competition as I am quite
competitive!

Excerpt
Info:
Pansies are a vibrant flower found in many people's
gardens. They are well-known for representing love
and affection in flower language and the juice of a
pansy is used in a love potion in ‘A Midsummer’s Night
Dream by William Shakespeare. Pansies are one of
the few edible flowers ad are often used to decorate
cakes, salads, soups and many more things. Not
all pansies have a scent and yellow and blue pansies
smell stronger in early morning or dusk.

Excerpt
I stared in horror as I was dragged away to my doom.
My family, who were oblivious to what was going on, were
lying on the floor, their faces deathly pale and stone
still. I tried to scream but all that came out was a hoarse
croak. My tongue was thick and my voice barely a whisper.
I was terrified. So terrified.
“Help,” I breathed weakly. Then I couldn't bear it any more.
My eyelids were increasingly heavy and I felt as though
someone was pulling a dark veil over my head, blocking out
the rest of the world. As I was thrown carelessly into a
coarse sack, I lay back in defeat and dejectedly closed my
eyes. Sleep caressed me in a warm blanket and the last
thing I heard was a cold piercing scream.
This is from a piece of mine called Kidnapped.
What amount of time do you expect to be able to dedicate to SWC?
Info:
Green woodpeckers are the largest of the three
British woodpeckers, and despite their name, they
don't peck on trees much unlike Great Spotted
woodpeckers. They have a distinctive red crown on
their heads and are not uncommon in general.
however, the amount of trees that are being cut
down is threatening their habitat and could soon
result in their numbers declining.

What amount of time do you expect to be able to dedicate to SWC?

For most of March, I will be at school, but it never stops
me! I won't be going on holiday at all, and, as usual, all of
my free time will be spent writing. March will be a very
free month for me, and, as far as I know, there is only
one Friday that I might be a bit inactive on. Out of 10,
I would say that my activity levels will be 8.5/10.

Time Management
Info:
Hyacinths are a vibrant spring-blooming flower
that are found in many different colours, the most
common being purple. Each different hyacinth has
a different fragrance and are often used for perfumes,
their smell being strong and floral. Hyacinths are
related to the asparagus plant. Each colour represents
something else: forgiveness, joy, jealousy, depending
on the flower.

Time Management

When it comes to time management, I like to think
that I'm a very organised person (I hope) but can
still do things a bit last minute. I do loads of SWC
after school when it isn't holiday and I still manage
to complete every single daily and almost every
weekly in my past sessions despite school and clubs.
I hate last minute things as I like to be very organised
and sometimes this makes me feel rushed, which
makes me bad at things. On the whole I'm alright
with last minute but I prefer to know what's going
to happen and (most of the time) be prepared.


Leadership Strengths/Weaknesses
Info:
Avocets are a black and white wader with a famous
curved beak. They are one of Britain's most successful
conservation projects; avocets used to be extinct in
the UK, but during World War Two, they were given a
a safe haven in East Anglia. They are still there today,
the main place for avocets in the whole of Britain. They
are also the emblem of the RSPB, showing this amazing
story, the most miraculous in the UK.


Leadership Strengths/Weaknesses

Strengths - I find leading a team really easy and
quite nice. I make sure that everyone has a job
to do and isn't left out and I enjoy helping them
if they are stuck. I find it very easy to work with
others, even if I don't like them.

Weaknesses - I think I might be a little bit bossy but
I try my hardest not to be and sometimes I'm so focused
on making sure other people are happy that I don't
give myself much to do apart from occasionally helping
people.

Valued Qualities
Info:

Dandelions come in two different types. One of
them is a brightly-coloured golden flower and
the other white with their seeds. There is a fake
dandelion which is also yellow. The whiter type
of dandelions is covered in seeds which blow away
in the wind and get carried to places to grow. They
are completely edible, petals, stem, leaves, and
belong to the same family as sunflowers.

To be a leader, you need many different qualities
but I think that one of the most important ones is
trust. You need to have trust in your own decisions
because they will count towards the whole team and
have trust in your cabinmates. If you don't trust
or believe in your cabinmates then you won't work
well together and you might not do the right thing.

I will embody this trait by always listening to everyone
and taking their ideas into account. I will also be kind
to them so they feel like part of the team and that
their ideas count.
I also think compassion is a very important quality.
Cabin Atmosphere
Info:

Pheasants are a large, common bird that have been
described to have many different appearances. There
are 29 different species all around the world and Britain's most
common species actually originates from Asia!

Cabin Atmosphere

I aim to create an atmosphere that is quite competitive
but at the same time quite relaxed and calm. I think
that it is important to make it feel quite laid back,
but still include that element of competition.

Kingfishers, are, arguably, Britain's most colourful
bird, with distinctive blue and orange feathers. They
eat lots of fish (hence their name) including minnows
and sticklebacks. Out of the 87 species of kingfishers
in the world, only one breeds in Europe. The kookaburra,
well-known for laughing, is the largest type of kingfisher
in the world, originating from Australia. Most kingfishers
in the world don't eat fish or go anywhere near the water
despite their name.

A.(Checkboxes)
I am applying for both leader and co-leader
I am applying for only co-leader (yup)
I'm willing to share a promotional project for SWC (yup)


B. No, I can complete all of these.
C. I would inform the hosts or my leader straight away
and make sure that everyone in my cabin knows what
to do and carries on the same.



You’ve made it to the end of my co-leader’s application. Hope you’ve enjoyed reading it!

text only version of leader app!!

About Me
Hi, I'm Leo! I am 13 and in English 1. I enjoy writing, reading, art, and music. I live in America and enjoy spending time on Scratch. I play many different games but always make time for something I enjoy.

Experiences
I have been writing for a while.
I participated in SWC November 2023 as a camper in the horror cabin. I am currently participating in JWC (January Writing Camp) to help improve my writing.

Other important things
I am applying for leader or co-leader so my cabin preference is Fairytales but I'm fine with anything. I will try my best to be as active as I can by checking in at least 5 days a week!

Checklist:
X Applying for Leader and Co Leader
Applying for only Co Leader
X Willing to share a promotional project for SWC

Time Management:
I'm not very great at time management but I've been trying to get better!

Working with others:
Some of my strengths in working with others is getting to talk to them about what to do. A weakness is that sometimes I end up doing all the work.

Quality:
A big quality that applies to being a leader is just being able to support your campers.

Atmosphere:
I want to bring a nice and calm atmosphere with no toxicity. Toxicity causes motivation loss.

Writing Piece

The sound of rustling leaves and bushes caught the attention of Ralph and the other boys. They all turned to look at the source of the strange noise. Suddenly, Jack yelled, “It's the beast! Run!” and took off. The rest of the boys quickly followed suit, running away from the platform. Like the others, Ralph began to run, but he tripped over a rock in the sand and fell.

“Are you okay?” a girl's voice asked from behind him.

Ralph turned around and saw his twin sister extending her hand to help him up. The girl bore a striking resemblance to the person standing next to her. Her hair was a bright blonde, just like his, but her eyes were a deep emerald green shade that contrasted with his light green ones. The way she moved and spoke was reminiscent of him too. It was as if she had inherited his mannerisms and habits. Seeing them side by side, one could easily tell they were twins.

As she extended her hand to help him up, Ralph spoke in a calm voice, “I'm alright.” She looked at him with concern, but she could tell from his reassuring tone that he was indeed okay. Ralph took her hand and used it to steady himself as he got back on his feet. She noticed a small scrape on his knee and offered to help clean up the scratch, but Ralph waved it off, saying it was just a minor scratch. Despite his injury, he didn't seem to be in any pain and his smile was as bright as ever.

She looked at him, feeling worried for her brother, she asked him “Are you sure you’re alright, Ralph?”
Ralph replied to her confidently, “I’m sure I’m alright, El”

The girl smiled and hugged her twin brother tightly. All the other boys, including Jack, stared at the two siblings who were hugging in front of them. It was silent for a moment.

“Oi, Ralph! Who’s this girl?” Jack shouted, disturbing the silence that had surrounded them.
“She’s my twin sister,” Ralph proudly replied, “Her name is Elena.”

As the group made their way back to the platform for the next meeting, all eyes were on Elena who stood next to Ralph. Her shy wave caught everyone's attention, but they couldn't help but notice the confidence she exuded. It was evident that some new rules were necessary.

text only version of my application!

question 1:
Hi I’m Nini, a 15 year old girl (she/her pronouns), who lives in Sydney, Australia
within the AEDT timezone.
I'm super excited for the upcoming swc session regardless of if this
application is accepted, as I have just returned to scratch after years of
inactivity, and look forward to the great impact it undoubtedly will have on my
writing habits in the future <3
I am an avid reader who also dabbles in drawing, painting and writing. a few
of my fandoms are harry potter, hamilton, hunger games, six, shatter me,
agggtm and divergent. I enjoy any and all genres, but I have to say my
favourite genre to read is romance, as I'm a sucker for a heart wrenching
slow burn novel (what can I sayyy). On the flip side however, whenever I bring
myself to write something the genre is usually either super realistic and
contemporary, or veryyy fantastical and surreal
I am a big listener of music and spend lots of my free time on spotify and do
not disturb- listening to frank ocean and the weeknd while crocheting a new
item of clothing for myself
I also spend quite a lot of my time on the internet (not proud of this LOL) and
have chosen to base my application on the beloved google chrome!! I hope
you love the rest of the application as much as I love my laptop >

question 2:
I have participated in SWC once in July of 2021, as a fantasy camper. The experience
was ever so fun but due to circumstances in that period of my life I was unable
to *camp* to my fullest ability. Outside of SWC and scratch as a whole, I find
myself nominating for leadership positions on multiple occasions, as a past
member of my schools Student Representative Council and as a peer support
leader to new high schoolers <3
When it comes to writing, I would consider myself pretty experienced. Of
course there's infinite possibility for my writing to improve, but I have been
writing often and found myself constantly improving. As I mentioned before, I
excel especially in writing fantasy and contemporary, but I also surprisingly do
well at writing non-fiction texts (which I never expected for myself!).

question 3:
Although I am happy to co-lead any cabin this session, my preferences include
adventure, dystopian and fantasy in no particular order. I would like to be a part of
leading these cabins as the main characters in these sorts of texts are driven,
passionate, and dedicated. These are traits I believe apply to me, and these are traits I'd
like to apply to my cabin potential atmosphere ( more about this in response 9 )

I am also 100% open to helping lead the Cabin that Will Not Win

question 4:
After a long day of strenuous work and tiring social interaction, she took a
seat at the foot of her bed, dropping her sweat-dampened forehead into
her palms. A deep and heavy sigh fell out of her mouth from the bottom of
her chest, which suddenly felt as if all of its walls were closing in on her
lungs. As it got harder and harder to breathe, and she took sharper and
quicker breaths, she felt the outer corners of her eyes prickling with tears. For
fear of her mascara smudging, she quickly rubbed them away and looked up
at herself in the body-length mirror before her. As she stared at her face in
the mirror, she felt an overwhelming sense of disgust at herself. Suppressing
her emotional expression to keep up a “beautiful appearance”? Suddenly, the
tears started streaming down her cheeks. She held her hands cupped over
her eyes and the tears wet her forearms, a few dripping down and soaking
into the base of her navy blue jeans. She was a silent crier, only letting out a
few sniffles here and there, which didn't aid the pain in her chest. It was as if
someone had reached into her body, taken out her heavy heart and wrung out
all the emotion it held. After 14 seconds of silent bawling, she shuffled
backwards on her bed and tucked herself in, curling into the fetal position. In
this position, she lay for about 30 seconds before instinctively reaching for
her iPhone, encapsulated in a pink kmart phone case, as she did every night
before eventually passing out. In this piece of technology, she found solace; she found peace. She quickly tucks her un-reflected-on emotions back into
her heart. In her heart these emotions wait until next week, when this same
exact episode will repeat itself.

question 5:
As the only serious commitment I have in March is school, I will be able to
commit a healthy amount of time to SWC every day. An exemplar range could
be anywhere from 30 minutes to 2 hours a day. Even if I'm only able to be
online for a few minutes, I will be sure to take advantage of that time to check
on word adding and the campers. Of course, my hours will depend on how
much of a workload I receive in the month of March, but I will be able to
balance out homework time with Scratch time just fine

question 6:
skills:
- I am a fast and dedicated worker, especially under the pressure of a time constraint
- I can juggle many important tasks at once and manage to complete them all by a deadline (I do this for school tasks allll the time..)
- I work well in stressful situations and can manage emotions and stress well
- If I know something is urgent, I can push myself to organise by importance instead of how willing I am to do said task.
shortcomings:
- I often procrastinate large tasks if I am not very excited to complete it
- I can prioritise less important but more fun tasks over very important tasks, but as mentioned above, I am able to sort myself out under pressure.

question 7:
skills:
- I am an open-minded person who values the opinions of those around her. I
will always take other people into consideration when I verbalise my ideas or
opinions.
- I am always open to negotiation and find myself to be a very flexible person
who can change her mind about things if need be.
- I understand my rights and responsibilities, where I can hold myself
accountable for my shortcomings I also have a level of respect for myself
and my ideas.
- I have lots of experience in collaboration, from working on schoolwork in
groups of up to 10, to just trying to make hangout plans with an unreasonably
large group of people
shortcomings:
- I sometimes can disregard my own needs in light of higher-ups wanting
something. This is because I believe these higher-ups are better at decision-
making than I am.
- I am someone who requires detail in the way others communicate with me,
and when I misinterpret or misunderstand something because of a lack of
specification, problems (although easily manageable) can arise
- Throughout my life I have been known to work on tasks alone simply
because of how often I am required to do so, which means I sometimes
complete full tasks myself- somewhat subconsciously.

question 8:
Although a successful leader has many traits, the one I value most in a leader
is resilience. Being able to push through good and bad times shows a
willingness to put in the work to overcome a challenge, as well as a strong
commitment to the camp. In scenarios in and out of scratch, you can find
resilience in every good leader. I admire this trait particularly because a driven
leader often rubs off on those they have an influence on, and a resilient team is
always a good one, who can take on any situation enthusiastically and
effectively!
I plan to show resilience as a leader by dedicating time and effort to the camp
and by always trying to overcome hiccups with determination.

question 9:
A supportive cabin, driven by a passion for writing. Slightly geared towards competition
and achieving personal goals, full of dedicated campers who enjoy the effort they put
into their work.
question 10:
part a :
yes i am applying for both
no not only applying for coleader
yes i am willing to share a promotional project
part b:
I can complete all the listed responsibilities.
part c:
If I or any assisting leaders are inactive, I will take it upon myself to make sure that fact is known (especially to other leaders and hosts), and the responsibilities of the now inactive leader are distributed between (the) remaining leader/s so that all responsibilities are still completed somehow. I'd also let the campers know how the cabins activities (word adding for example) will go ahead from the point of inactivity.