forum by @metanoiaaa
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for me to display my writing ♡
uses include to display writing to potential camps during entry or as proof for activities i participate in
also to present my writing and have a thread where I can see my progress <3

if you can help it, avoid writing in this topic please !

1. cycle? habit? both?
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 head 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.
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a random piece of writing i did a few days ago (based on my own and I'm sure many others' experience LOL)
used as an experpt for SWC (co)leader application and a potential featured writing if i get in JWC this year as a backup camper

2. Love is not more or less; it is different.
My whole life, I would wonder how on earth I could ever come to love someone the way I love my family. Up until I was 14, the only other people I came to love were my closest girlfriends, and even they never measured up to the love I held for my sister, for example. I'd say it was only during my 14th year of life that truly arrived in the mental realm of boys. Before I hit 14, boys were only friends to me, but now a different aspect of them had unlocked- much like a game level. This aspect was attraction, and with that came attachment. Shockingly, this attachment was similar to the one I had with my family and friends, but the attraction was something completely new. Still, this peculiar combination of attraction and attachment I labelled love. And that label brought me back to my opening idea: How could I ever love someone how I love my family? Of course, I knew the love wasn't the same, but it had the same name and the same impact on me. I enjoyed love's company, I valued love's personality, I loved love.

I've been stumped on this concept for a while now. I found love in my family, and I found love in the boys I liked. It wasn't the same love, so that meant I could never love someone how I love my family. But that doesn't necessarily mean the strength or importance of the love doesn't even out or that one type of love is more or less important than the other- it just means love comes in different forms. I've grown and found love also has flaws. My parents can be controlling, messy, and stressful, and I won't like the way they make me feel in my own home. A boy can be complicated, misleading, and a liar, and I won't like the way he talks to his friends about me.

In conclusion, I've realised love is different. It is not about how my love for someone else could measure up to my love for my family. It's about how love comes with differences, with perfection and with flaws. And all love is important, but it needs balance. And the love I have for others shouldn't always come before the love I have for myself- but that type of love is different, not more or less important, remember?

JWC daily 11/01/2024

january 11th daily: favourite word acrostic poem

a tall pile of desire at the base of my stomach, building all the way up to my
chest, and as the pile grows so does a overwhelming sense of shame in myself. I act
casual to the one before me and i feign
indifference to the object of my intense interest.
since it is taboo to desire this object, i avoid admitting
my severe attraction, my desperate need, thoughts in my head that tell me that no one will ever
understand the need for this specific item, but i can help it, it feels
special.
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in case ur interested vv
accismus: a form of irony in which someone feigns indifference to something he or she desires.

i know you don't like people posting in this topic, but this isn't really a fit for Show and Tell. maybe make this a project, then advertise it in here?
also your writing pieces are good

RethinkingVoxels wrote:

i know you don't like people posting in this topic, but this isn't really a fit for Show and Tell. maybe make this a project, then advertise it in here?
also your writing pieces are good

thanks so much for the input, but this isn't really an “advertisement” thread, I'll be using it for scratch camps as well as to just display my writing. So sorry if show and tell wasn't the correct category to fit the thread under, can i ask what would be a better suit, just out of curiosity? (please contact me on my profile when responding to that question please)
thanks <3

metanoiaaa wrote:

RethinkingVoxels wrote:

i know you don't like people posting in this topic, but this isn't really a fit for Show and Tell. maybe make this a project, then advertise it in here?
also your writing pieces are good

thanks so much for the input, but this isn't really an “advertisement” thread, I'll be using it for scratch camps as well as to just display my writing. So sorry if show and tell wasn't the correct category to fit the thread under, can i ask what would be a better suit, just out of curiosity? (please contact me on my profile when responding to that question please)
thanks <3

I think it could be a better fit in Things I’m Making And Creating because your literally “making” a writing thread?

I'll move this over to the “Things I'm Making and Creating” section for you - that's a better fit for this kind of topic

Paddle2See wrote:

I'll move this over to the “Things I'm Making and Creating” section for you - that's a better fit for this kind of topic

thanks so much! i didn't see that section when making the thread, my bad!

JWC word war vs. luna<3
It's the day before my twenty-first birthday, and I had just returned to my place after a long day of hard work at my job at the movie theatre. I threw off my shoes and plopped myself down onto the old corduroy couch in my flat. I spotted a little brown envelope that had been slipped under my door. I pick it up from the cold tile ground, reclaiming my seat on the sofa while tearing open the taped-shut envelope. I pull out a slip of paper, and on it are four words smeared in ink across the page in large, bold writing. “YOU ARE IN DANGER”, it reads. A shiver runs down my spine and I instinctively sit straighter, putting my shoulders back. I eventually concluded that this must be some sort of sick prank someone was playing on me, probably from my cousin, who lives a few blocks from my apartment complex. With slight hesitation, I moved along with my routine, pushing the memory of the note to the back of my mind. I slipped into the shower and set the temperature to my usual: a near-boiling hot, which never fails to relax me and let it start up. However, even with the cooling sensation of the water hitting my skin in my steamy bathroom, the thought of the letter kept pushing itself forward. I couldn't help but instinctively look around, searching for someone who might have been watching me. I was being ridiculous, I know, but I couldn't help but wonder if it wasn't just a prank.

260 words, 5 min limit

It really doesn't matter if you're still on Christmas break or not, because today we're going to make you go to school! I'm just kidding, but you will have to be writing a short piece on your favorite subject. It can be what you're learning, it can be the funniest moment when you fell asleep in math class, if it has to do with one of your favorite subjects in school; go ahead and write about the time a bird flew into the window. But make sure to write at least 200 words for 100 points, and sharing your funny, happy, or horrible experiences with us will gain you an extra 100.

It was the last session of a Tuesday, and I was in my information and software technology (IST) class, cramming desperately for the next test in my advanced maths course that was being held in the first session of the next day. And it wasn't just me cramming, it was all of the kids in my computer room aisle, each of us clicking away at our calculators with MathsOnline up on our screens, and a paper on the table beside our keyboards. As advanced maths is not easy, there were about one or two particularly good-at-maths kids in the aisle with us, despite the fact that we're all good at the subject. Unfortunately, I am not one of those kids, but in this session, I was grateful that no one thought I was. Whenever one of us needed help with a question, we would immediately rush to one of the smart kids who had their own work to do and have them help us out. And when they couldn't help out straight away- which happened often- every other kid would abandon their own work temporarily to solve this one problem collaboratively. That was how we passed our time that lesson, which obviously wasn't the purpose of our IST lesson that day, and we had other, more relevant work to be doing. But when the teacher came by our aisle and saw the equations on our screen, he, as a maths teacher himself, started working to help us all out with our questions. And that was how I, a horrible procrastinator when it comes to studying, passed the time in that particular IST class of ours and managed to get a good grade on the maths test!
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286 words, +200 points

JWC DAILY

Video games, video games. I hope all of you like playing video games, because today you're going to be writing a 350 word story on what you would imagine it's like in one of the video game's you play. I know most of you always wanted to write about this as a kid, so today's your day! Create suspense whether it's creepers exploding or you panicking to play your games. Make sure it is scratch appropriate though! If you happen to not play video games, write about something exciting that has happened to you on scratch! This daily is worth 200 points, 100 more if you share your adventures with us!

I had just turned on my Xbox 1. I clicked through the log-in and booted up one of my favourite games. FORTNITE.
The screen flashed suddenly and transformed into a portal. Cautiously, I peeked in, but once I put my head through, my entire body reeled in. I landed out, falling from a high place. I put my hands before me to try to stop the free fall but noticed my hands. I flipped them around, and found myself to have jagged, pixilated hands. I was suited with gloves. Oh my gosh, I must have transformed into my avatar: Nisha. Sure enough, when I peered up at my shoulders - still falling, I found a puff sleeve and felt for my fencing point on my back. I needed to find a place to land. As I was nearing Reckless Railways, I pulled a string coming from my side that enabled a Psonic Glider to paraglide my way onto the roof. I looked around and found multiple others around me. It was now a race against the clock to find g*ns before anyone else.
I fell onto the top wing of the Rail Ways. Already, I could hear shots booming in my eardrums. I ran over into a small room, where I found a shield drink. I chugged it down immediately, not only quenching my overlying thirst in such a hot domain but also helping me feel a bit safer. I ran to the opposing side, where another room was, and finally found a g*n. It was a sniper - my favourite. I found a pack of ammo and cracked it open. I picked up the ammo, placed it in my load and ran out. I jumped over a wall and mantled through another until I reached the main area. I could see someone trying to fight of the NPC's for a medallion, I knew exactly what I was going to do. I found a balcony and crouched down behind the small railed fence. I reached for my sniper and made sure I had the perfect position. If I shot too early, I would too easily reveal my spot, and I needed to get a headshot. I levelled my arm and aimed right on the spot, and right as I pulled the tr*gger, I felt a zoom coming from my open side. BOOM! I barely missed it. I immediately turned to find them, but alas, I couldn't. I kept my cool. There was another shot from my other side; it hit my side, and I winced in pain. I grabbed my g*n and found them in a bush, slightly unveiled. ZOOM! I shot. I saw them crawling out and wound back again BANG, they were de*d. A hologram sweeped them up; I was lucky to survive that attack.

465 words, + 300 points for spy!

JWC DAILY

Write about a time traveler- maybe they went back in time, to a prehistoric age, or a time in the far future where phones and iPads are an ancient thing. The possibilities are endless. Write at least 250 words to claim 300 points, but 400 if you share proof!

On the 17th of January 2024, I finally accomplished the act of creating a fully functional time machine. And now that I had done it, I was sat pondering where I should go first. I looked back through my working diary throughout this creation process and at the list of dream locations and time periods to visit. I could visit Victorian England, or Scandinavia in the Viking era, or the future in the exact city I'm located right now! After cancelling out the most dangerous or risky options- particularly for my first try ever- I decided just to stay in my city and fast forward maybe 50 years to see how it'll be. Before leaving, I decided to pack the essentials: food and water, of course, and my iPhone 11, which is old for now but ancient for the year that I'm about to visit. I went to my closet and scouted out an interesting yet classy modern look to compare the future styles to. I stepped into the time machine and stood there for a moment, trying to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to see. Maybe it'll be impossibly tall futuristic buildings and flying cars! What if I'm mistaken, and it's the same with only a few big technological advancements? I tapped a few of my crafted buttons, entered my desired date of interest, and then got going. The trip was as if I got knocked out and woke up in a dream, which is the effect I was going for, so that was one success for me! However, although I was conscious and aware of my surroundings, I was unable to open my eyes for a minute or two. As I lay there with my eyes shut, I tried to listen for the sounds of the future but heard nothing. Maybe this was some new thing that exists in the future, or I landed in the same place as I left, where it would make sense to be silent. But when my eyes opened, I saw a barren wasteland before me. I didn't recognise where I was or if it was even my hometown in the future. The land around me was overgrown and abandoned, but the sky was stuffy, with a toxic stench flooding my nostrils. I felt the floor and it was shockingly cold, rocky and bare, which wasn't exactly what I was expecting. Where were all the people and the cool technology of the future? I sat on the floor for a while, thinking of how this sort of thing could've possibly happened to my home city before deciding just to go home and avoid dwelling on the new empty pit of worry building inside my gut. Then, the thought struck me. How am I supposed to get back home if my time machine doesn't even exist at this moment?
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478 words!

jwc daily

Do you remember… the 21st night of… January? ♪ Today, you’re gonna go here ( https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/952384449/ ) and draw a random date. Now, go here ( https://www.history.com/this-day-in-history ) and set the date to the day you drew (if you need help, go here! https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/952385578/ ). Choose one of the events (scroll down for all of them), and write a 250 word Hi-Fi piece about that event! Worth 350 points, 450 with proof

I wake up to a bouncing sensation around the inside of my stomach, and I kick off my blanket to lie flat on my back. As I stare into the tall abyss of my room at my ceiling, I try to suffocate the strange feeling in my stomach, which has now become a searing pain in my chest. I lie flat for about twenty more achingly long minutes, racking my brain on today's events to try and scout out why I have the gut feeling that suggests the incoming of an important event. I get this feeling before those Eid dinners that are somehow crucial to my father's business, where I have to put on a face and personality inside a stuffy outfit for an accumulation of other rich families that I don't quite know. But I know it is selfish for me to even mentally complain about the state of my life, as everyone knows that for all of my life, the people of Iran have had it harder than ever, with the rapid westernisation of Iran and the changing lifestyles and habits of our country. I am lucky to be able to live in a large, traditional Iranian house, go to a Masjid- even as many are being removed in light of Reza's White revolution- and practice the religion that my family loves and has followed for decades. I'm 25 now, and ever since I was born, Iran has been a Westernised shell of what I know that it used to be, but my memories of a Shia Iran never really existed. Although my family, for some reason, avoids conversation about what happens in the government sector, I've heard the facts. Particularly about the exile of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, for whom support has been growing these past couple of years, especially since Shah Reza became more and more repressive of Islam and its celebrations. Shah Reza's been gone since the 16th of last month, after a huge demonstration from radical students. As I finally got up and moved around my room, I remembered what day it was: the 1st of February, 1979. And as I'm standing in the middle of my bedroom in the city of Tehran, one of the family workers barges through the door, one that I'm particularly close with, and tells me that Ayatollah Khomeini has returned to Iran after 15 years of exile.
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399 words, 450 points !

jwc daily (also wip writing comp entry)

Today's daily is to encourage all of you to enter the writing comp Enter a piece or start writing one with at least 400 words for 500 points, 600 if you share your beautiful work/enter the writing comp! If you are not finished with your piece, just post it here, and no worries about entering it, unless you want to! If you feel uncomfortable entering the writing comp, just write 400 words of a piece that you would enter in any writing competition. If you already entered the writing comp, you can put the link in the main cabin desc and earn 600 points! If you are waiting to possibly be a prospective judge or are one, do the same thing as you would if you felt uncomfortable entering.

Let me tell you a tale of a boy. Young, chaotic but dedicated, always seen with his lion's mane of a haircut and never wearing an outfit one would deem wedding-appropriate. He was called Wyatt, but his name always bothered him. He would try to come up with alternative names but was never hit with a name fascinating or special enough for who he thought he was. See, today's star, Wyatt, has harboured a fascination towards heroes since he was only four years old. Not the heroes of the real world like Martin Luther King or Nelson Mandela, but the heroes scattered across the pages of comic books like Spiderman and Batman. One of the many things that have puzzled me about Wyatt as I've watched him grow is that he never really dropped the crazy obsession with superheroes. Every year after he had turned ten, I'd expected it to fade away with time, but it's instead grown exponentially up until one day when his sixteenth birthday was just around the corner. On this vital day, Wyatt made a decision that would impact the rest of his life. He had decided that before his big birthday, he wanted to accomplish his one main goal thus far in life. Just like everyone he had ever told this dream to, he knew it was far-fetched and crazy, but you can do anything, right? That's what the media always taught him as a kid, so I don't blame him for believing it. Before beginning his quest, Wyatt, like a scientist, began his research. He did this by pulling a 60cm deep box out of his closet, filled to the brim with multicoloured comic books covering superheroes you- my dear reader- will probably never read about. Wyatt sat there for 4 hours on end, uninterrupted by his family, as he flipped through all the comics with a purpose, which was to compile a complete list of how to become an epic superhero.
Once he had finally finished, Wyatt had come up with a list of four choices, ranked from most to least desirable, and was about to continue with his plans to become a renowned superhero.
His first option was to try and get bitten by a spider in hopes of getting lucky with some awesome sense-heightening powers. I knew it was stupid but I'm not allowed to help him- it's just narration rules. So I watched in agony as little Wyatt crawled into the basement of his home, which was extremely under-established as an actual section of a house and was also flooded with spiders. He sat there in a corner with a stick, poking at unsuspecting insects and inviting them to bite him. Many of them ran away from the humongous boy crouched above them with a bird's nest for hair, understandably, but one particularly large and rather ballsy spider leapt onto Wyatt's forearm and bit down with its abnormally long and sharp fangs. They were so sharp that I had to zoom in on the scene to make sure I wasn't mistaken. They were also so sharp that they penetrated Wyatt's skin, enough to send a huge wave of shock up his arm, causing him to pass out.
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537 words, 600 points

jwc daily
In the heart of China, nestled within the bustling cityscape of Beijing, lived a spirited young woman- my mother. Born and raised in a small foreign town, she embarked on a transformative journey as an immigrant in the early 2000s, seeking a life filled with opportunities and adventures. arriving in Beijing as a wide-eyed young adult, my mum was immediately captivated by the city's vibrant energy. The bustling markets, the neon lights, and the blend of traditional and modern architecture painted a vivid backdrop to her newfound life. The city was a maze of possibilities. As a college girl with dreams as vast as the cityscape, I embarked on a remarkable odyssey. As my mum pursued her education, her intelligence and resilience set her apart.
She became a shining star in her academic endeavours, earning the respect of her peers and professors. The city's energy fueled her ambition, and she thrived in the diverse, stimulating environment.
Amidst the vibrant chaos, my mother's path intersected with that of a young man. My mum, known for her insightful contributions in class, caught my dad's attention with her keen intellect and the way she effortlessly navigated the complexities of her studies. My dad, equally adept in his pursuits, exuded a magnetic charisma that sparked curiosity in those around him. He, too, was a dreamer, chasing aspirations in the fast-paced city. Their connection was serendipitous, an unexpected harmony in the symphony of their lives. My dad was a young man from Pakistan who moved here to pursue outstanding academics. They soon fell in love and could not wait to settle. Together, they had their first baby girl: me. Together, we travelled far and wide, finally landing in New Zealand in 2009. two years later, my little sister Aisha was born in 2011. my family lives in Sydney, Australia, and my mother and father, are still together 17 years later.
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332 words, +500 points

jwc daily
In Sydney's summer heat, regular trips to a body of water are necessary to stay alive, and in the group chat I have with my friends, we all made a collective decision to take a trip to the Upper East Coast, where we knew of a smaller and less popular beach. I have been wanting to take a sunset dip for the past two weeks, and I'm so happy that it'll be happening this evening. In mid-summer, the sun sets around 8, so we organised to have my best friend and the group driver, Emma, pick up each member of the group from our houses from 5:30-6:00 before heading to the beach altogether. It was 5:55 when the final pickup was made, and all five of us were packed into Emma's bright yellow Toyota Yaris, blasting our favourite artists and singing together. Once we finally arrived at the beach, we claimed our usual spot atop a multicoloured towel pushed up against this huge, unusually shiny rock. Emma and I rushed down to the waves in our swimsuits and indulged in an innocent game of mermaids. Of the three friends left at the picnic blanket, two went to fetch us all acai bowls and lemonades, leaving one of my close friends, Mabel, lying on her front with her nose in a book. Before I knew it, the sun was setting. For the sunset, all five of us united shoulder-deep in the ocean, staring at the horizon, all of us with sparkling eyes. The view was gorgeous, all the fiery colours of a sunset melting into each other in a gorgeous gradient. After the sun had fully set, we were all left in the shallow water under the night sky, where we stayed for a few more hours before beginning a fire on the shore. As a final activity for the night before midnight struck, we enjoyed the traditional delicacy of s'mores.
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323 words, +350 points

JWC writing competition entry
Hero
Let me tell you a tale of a boy. Young, chaotic but dedicated, always seen with his lion's mane of a haircut and never wearing an outfit one would deem wedding-appropriate. He was called Wyatt, but his name always bothered him. He would try to come up with alternative names but was never hit with a name fascinating or special enough for who he thought he was. See, today's star, Wyatt, has harboured a fascination towards heroes since he was only four years old. Not the heroes of the real world like Martin Luther King or Nelson Mandela, but the heroes scattered across the pages of comic books like Spiderman and Batman. One of the many things that have puzzled me about Wyatt as I've watched him grow is that he never really dropped the crazy obsession with superheroes. Every year after he had turned ten, I'd expected it to fade away with time, but it's instead grown exponentially up until one day when his sixteenth birthday was just around the corner. On this vital day, Wyatt made a decision that would impact the rest of his life. He had decided that before his big birthday, he wanted to accomplish his one main goal thus far in life. Just like everyone he had ever told this dream to, he knew it was far-fetched and crazy, but you can do anything, right? That's what the media always taught him as a kid, so I don't blame him for believing it. Before beginning his quest, Wyatt, like a scientist, began his research. He did this by pulling a 60cm deep box out of his closet, filled to the brim with multicoloured comic books covering superheroes you- my dear reader- will probably never read about. Wyatt sat there for 4 hours on end, uninterrupted by his family, as he flipped through all the comics with a purpose, which was to compile a complete list of how to become an epic superhero.

Once he had finally finished, Wyatt had come up with a list of four choices, ranked from most to least desirable, and was about to continue with his plans to become a renowned superhero. Where these plans sprouted from to begin with, he's never iterated. But from watching him grow, I can only imagine that his motive was to become big and strong enough to stand up for himself, to earn respect for himself. His small frame and un-put-together appearance didn't quite make him someone the resident bullies were scared of.

His first option was to get bitten by a spider in hopes of getting lucky with some awesome sense-heightening powers. I knew it was stupid but I'm not allowed to help him- it's just narration rules. So I watched in agony as little Wyatt crawled into the basement of his home, which was extremely under-established as an actual section of a house and was also flooded with spiders. He sat there in a corner with a stick, poking at unsuspecting insects and inviting them to bite him. Many of them ran away from the humongous boy crouched above them with a bird's nest for hair, understandably, but one particularly large and rather ballsy spider leapt onto Wyatt's forearm and bit down with its abnormally long and sharp fangs. They were so sharp that I had to zoom in on the scene to make sure I wasn't mistaken. They were also so sharp that they penetrated Wyatt's skin, enough to send a huge wave of shock up his arm. His eyes fluttered shut before Wyatt got wrapped up in darkness and passed out.

When he finally came to, Wyatt found himself lying on a hospital bed with his Aunt Lila. Lila Bennet was Wyatt's mother's sister, and her nephew came into her care upon his parent's tragic death in his youth. In Wyatt's eyes, Lila was an angel: the best possible type of person on God's green Earth. She was reading a novel she had begun a day prior to the spider incident, and she was about halfway through the book. Once she picked up on Wyatt's stirring, she immediately set her book onto the corduroy chair beside her and rushed to his side, clutching his bony hand in hers.
“Sweet boy, are you feeling okay?” she asked, with a panicked edge to her tone. Unable to reply civilly, Wyatt groaned a noise that vaguely resembled a yes. Aunt Lila ran her hand backwards over Wyatt's forehead, her palm pausing abruptly at the base of his hairline, where his lion's mane began to sprout. She sighed deeply, but Wyatt paid no mind to how deeply disturbed his aunt was by this extremely unconventional situation. During this rather dramatic scene, all Wyatt was thinking about which one of his plots to acquire superhuman powers was next. Thinking back on Wyatt's lifetime, it's dawning on me just how misguided the poor boy was.

By the time Wyatt and his aunt were back home and their schedule had returned to normal, Wyatt's next plan was utterly stupid, but the boy's hope clouded his common sense- anyone sane could tell this next plan would go badly. If I were a real person, maybe I would be able to stop him, but at the end of the day, I am only a narrator.

On the evening of a Thursday, at precisely 11:48 PM, Wyatt snuck out of his window, which was conveniently low and easy to hop out of. He would have carried out his next and final plan during daylight hours but it involved trespassing, which the boy knew was illegal. It had to be done at night- he thought, and as he made his way to the nearest nuclear power plant, Wyatt tried to push the deep-set horrible feeling he had at the base of his stomach. He knew what he was trying wouldn't end well, but he could do anything. He could be anything- couldn't he? Wyatt made it to the plant in about 15 minutes, using an unexpectedly fast pace for someone with rather short legs. Maybe it was the determination driving him, it beats me. Thanks to one of his aunt's ex-boyfriends' late-night dinner table complaint sessions, Wyatt knew of the entrance to the most radioactive area of the plant, which was always open in the case of a late-night emergency. It definitely wasn't kept open so kids with dreams of becoming a superhero could enter it at midnight on a random Friday. His plan was to camp out in proximity to the radioactive material in hopes of waking up completely transformed. And so, Wyatt whipped the camping bag he'd brought off of his shoulders, quickly setting up a base and curling up in his cheap, cold sleeping bag. That night, Wyatt dreamt of a world where he was born with powers, where he wouldn't have to go to these crazy lengths to achieve superhuman-hood, much like someone in the working class dreams of being one of the children born to rich families, with their whole lives handed to them.

Only six hours after Wyatt had succumbed to sleep in the radioactive chamber, he was found shrivelled and dead by the first powerplant worker to appear at work that day. Immediately, the boy's aunt was notified and he was taken back to the hospital, where he had been only a few days prior to his untimely death. The thing is, from the minute I saw that Wyatt was willing to let a spider sting him for powers, I knew this quest would kill him. I think he knew it, too, but he persevered beyond reasonable bounds. I blame him for not listening to his conscience, which warned him of what was to come, but I don't blame him for believing in himself. The world loved to tell the story that anything is possible, especially to ordinary little kids in preschool, like Wyatt was 11 years ago. I've narrated many kids' stories in my life. I've watched people go from birth to death at 97. I've been assigned to babies who passed only a few minutes after their birth, but Wyatt's story stuck with me. I remember his story as if it was yesterday; in reality, it was about 46 years ago, and it haunts me. I've seen people do terrible things to others and to themselves in the time since Wyatt's death, but I can't help but be reminded of him whenever the children I watch over get told that they can do anything. He's the only one to have taken that phrase as far as he did, but after such a long time, it stumps me that no one has come to realise that sometimes, reading children's idealistic stories 100 per cent of the time isn't healthy or safe. I believe in goals. Of course, I do, but it's necessary to teach people that real life and fantasy are two separate things, and as humans, you can't do everything imaginable. I came to terms with that fact the third time I had to watch someone make a life-ending mistake, when I finally realised that I couldn't save them, that I'd never be able to save them.

1,536 words 8,396 characters

thank you notes <33
leadership team: thank you all so much for making SWC happen, you're so capable and dedicated and it baffles me that you guys are able to coordinate all this every session! the air around swc and its popularity is largely thanks to you all- i have admired you all for the longest time. this session the leadership was so so good and i'm so glad i managed to participate in this camp you all have worked so hard for. thanks for being among the most inspiring scratchers I've come across, and for all of your hard work.

hosts: thank you for all your work in establishing the swc that so much of scratch loves so much. i'm in utter awe of what you all do, and how you manage to uphold the effort every single session without fail. so much admiration and love is being sent your way from not just me, but every individual involved in swc. thanks again <3

to all campers: i am filled with so much joy seeing the amount of people that sign up for swc every single session, and i find it so adorable that we all have this common interest and passion for writing, regardless of where we are and how different we may be. i'm proud of each of you for your accomplishment in reaching new goals whether they be in writing or in other aspects of your life. i hope everyone signs up again next session- I'll definitely be participating in some capacity <33

to the fan-fi cabin: i'm ever so grateful to be part of fan-fi's leadership this year,, I've loved checking in and seeing everyone's progress this month, i'm so proud of you all for contributing to our word total- however much you may have contributed. some of you I'd never heard of prior to this march, but i'm glad i did- you all are awesome and deserve the world.

to sokii: the absolute best leader i could've asked for<33 thank you for recognising my leader application and offering to me- this experience has been so unique and i'm glad i got to do it with you. i'm blown away from the uniqueness of ur ideas and i'm proud of how you've balanced swc with your life this month. i hope we keep in contact outside of swc <3!

to vi!: i'm so glad i met you this session, co-ing with you has been so so fun!! i would've loved to talk to you more and i'm DETERMINED TO (/lh),, i'm so appreciative of the effort you've put into this session- particularly in the amazing pfps you've provided for our cabin (i love them so much). thanks so much lovely!

to bookie: meeting you this session was also so fun and I've loved co-ing with you<33 i agree that we didn't get to chat nearlyyyy enough but that's also i'm gonna get to >D i hope we keep in touch- thank you for ur contribution to fan-fi this march

swc daily | 2nd July
Dear Future Me,

At the beginning of July, I set a few goals for my personal academic life and for my SWC progress this session. I’m really excited to see how you progress!

Firstly, I’ve committed to improving my daily routine so that I am able to have time for schoolwork, my own leisure activities, extracurriculars, and exercise since I love running and miss doing it daily. I also plan to attend the gym regularly to achieve my fitness goals. Additionally, I want to exit my reading slump and begin reading more academically challenging or beneficial books- especially due to upcoming senior subject selection, where I’d love to qualify for the English Extension 1 course.

On the personal front, I’ve been planning to work on strengthening my relationships with friends at my new school. I’d love to get to know a broader range of people better and get to interact with them on more than just surface-level knowledge of each other’s characters. Have I discovered more about my peers and strengthened existing friendships?

In terms of SWC, I plan to complete as many dailies as possible- for a quantitative measure, at least 15. This way, I can make better connections within the SWC community in preparation for next session, and I can improve my motivation to do well in writing and in other productive areas of my life, which is one of the main reasons I ever got into SWC in the first place!
I tried my best not to set too many high expectations upon myself in this letter due to existing academic and familial pressures, but I would love to hear from myself a month from now and see how many of my goals I have achieved.

(Literally) You truly,
Nini

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293 words