ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ!!

ᝰ I'm very excited for March SWC. <3 Welcome to this little thread of mine where I will be posting all of my dailies and weeklies for this month! (#hififtw!) I'm very excited for this busy month filled with writing and meeting new people! ;D (Sunny editing this: Goodness. I just said “I'm very excited” twice, didn't I? Gah.) ᝰ

Oh, and just so you know, this technically is the a part of the first daily? This is more like my ✨introduction post✨.

Okay, that made no sense, but let's continue! Anyways . . . I hope that there'll be a lot of writing on this thread! Which probably won't happen! But anyways . . .

Logging off,
➭ Sunny

daily one (3/1/24)

Author's note: I'm cutting it close, aren't I? Yesterday night, when I posted the thing above this, I didn't read the full daily yesterday . . . so here I am completing it! Anyways, let's get started!

Goals for March:

• I definitely want to try to write more. I've been encountering writer's block for the past few months, and I haven't been writing consistently.
  

• I think I say this a lot every SWC season, but another goal of mine is to try to meet new people and discover new online acquaintances. ^^ This is probably one of my favorite parts of SWC - there's so much exposure to a lot of different things.
  

• I want to step out of my comfort zone. Let new ideas form in my head. Take risks. Balance some new things. I'm always a careful person in real life, so maybe I can be risky when it comes to writing! ;D Who knows?
  

• Have fun. This isn't a goal, really, since it happens every SWC season, but I guess I should just put it here because why not?
  

• Complete a few weeklies. I feel like every SWC season, I barely complete any weeklies (mostly because I'm very confused on what to do lol, or just lazy) - so I want to complete as many as possible this month! It doesn't hurt!
  

• Last but not least, be more consistent. I'd like to have a writing routine figured out by the end of this month, because I haven't been keeping up with those lately.
  

Thank you for listening! Maybe I'll come back and add some more later, but for now, that's it!

Word Count: 268 words

daily two (3/2/24)

Author's note: Good job daily team! I love this daily!! I've also realized the tone of my writing has really changed. Or maybe it's just me. Or maybe it's just because of something else. I don't know.

(Story starts here)

I've always been what you would call a loner. A person who didn't really matter in society. Whenever my teacher asked, “Can you pair up with a partner, everyone?” everyone else would immediately rush towards their friends, and I would be left alone. Partnerless. Friendless. Because I didn't have any friends to rush to or chat with or get yelled at the teacher with. I was . . . alone. A neutral. I wasn't invisible, some of the more friendly classmates of mine waved at me in the hall sometimes, or smiled at me, or showed some sort of kindness. But they weren't friends. Friendly classmates and friends are two completely different things, as I have learned to understand these past few years of being completely alone.

And then one day, something changed. I guess that happens in every story, doesn't it? Or maybe not every one, but a few. There's a problem, something changes, and then the main character experiences something new. The story could either turn for the worse or for the good. This has happened in my story.

It was a normal morning. I was sitting in the back of the classroom, using a book to cover my face (and also use for entertainment, because books are awesome), and then the teacher decided to start the class. I put the book down, took out a few pieces of paper, and turned my attention up towards the board, where the teacher was usually writing down objectives of what would be going on today. Or, usually the boring part, I don't know. But there was something interesting that was going on today, and I knew it because the teacher wasn't using her Expo marker to write down bullet points as largely as she could and the board. Instead, she was smiling at the door - no, not the door, a face. A student.

I watched curiously, because we usually never had very many new students - especially in the middle of the school year. It was very, very unlikely. The girl had blonde hair twisted into large braids, freckles, and green eyes. She took careful steps into the room, keeping her chin up and smiling widely. She was too confident to be a new girl. Way too confident. Even I didn't have that amount of energy or self-passion to walk into the room as well as she did. Not at all.

“Hello, everyone,” she said in a loud voice. “My name is Jane.”

“Would you like to introduce yourself more, Jane?” the teacher asked sweetly. “Maybe about your passions? Your hobbies? Something?”

“I'm fine, thank you,” Jane replied in a polite, soothing voice. She glanced at the desks. “Where should I sit?”

“There seems to be an extra desk next to Ella,” the teacher responded, pointing directly at me. “You can sit next to her until I rearrange the seating chart.”

Jane gave the teacher another smile. “Of course,” she said. “Thank you.”

Panic immediately overwashed all of my other emotions. Someone was sitting next to me? No . . . I didn't even feel like speaking to anybody! I even thought about telling the teacher the move this way too confident new girl to another desk, but then everyone would make fun of me for being way too introverted, which I guess was true. But still . . . how could this even be happening? Why did this freakin' new girl have to-

“Hello,” Jane said sweetly. She was already sitting next to me, putting her bag on her desk and grinning warmly at me. “So. Your name is Ella, right?”

I nodded as a lump seemed to be forming in my throat.

“It's nice to meet you, Ella,” Jane replied. “I'm excited to get to know you!”

My eyes widened. Excited . . . to . . . get . . . to . . . know . . . me? What? I probably had the most dull personality out of everyone sitting in this room . . . and she said that she was excited to get to know me? She was excited to get to know this girl with no friends who had a permanent spot at the bottom of the school social status?

“I'm . . . excited to get to know you too,” I mumbled, and Jane brightened. Then she held out a hand for me to shake.

“You're basically the only one I know in this whole classroom, so it'd be nice to . . . have someone to show me around,” she said, looking nervous. “Would you want to be friends? If not, that's okay . . .”

Friends? It took me a while to translate that word into Ella-language, but I smiled gratefully at Jane and nodded my head so enthusiastically that I was afraid it would pop out of my neck.

“Of course!”

And from that day forward, my life changed. Completely.


Word Count: 830 words

daily three (3/3/24)

Hi-Fi's Anthem:
I've always thought of Hi-Fi's cabin as a way of travelling back into the past, and so the first anthem is all about exploring. Definitely not good - at all - but oh well.

Can you see that light
hanging in the air?
It's the light of the past,
behold, it's right there.
Trust your instincts,
dear,
just let them ring.
Let logic and cunningness,
guide you there.

Knowledge, so precious,
so be brave
and keen.
We can't let such information
slip through this gleam!

We're explorers,
we are,
and it'll stay that way.
History won't repeat itself
because we are here.

(I'm going to continue this daily later today, just posting it now so it doesn't delete!)

daily four (3/4/24)

(Before writing the daily Sunny): I got present tense and third person omniscient? Oh goodness, I'm sure I won't totally fail doing that. Anyways, wish me good luck!

(Daily starts here)
Manuel watches the sunrise. He likes doing this - watching the horizon light up and observe how the rays of sun seep into the clouds, brightening the sky. He steps back into the house, humming a small tune as he enters his room and changes into his usual trousers and T-shirt stained with the dirt of his uncle's farm. He's been living on the farm for thirteen years now after his parents' death. He's never really cared much about it, really. Whenever he meets someone, they swoon at him and act as if he were a baby, like he hasn't ever experienced anything horrible in his life before, crying out, “Oh baby, you must feel so horrible!” or “Oh dear, we hope you are okay!”. He hasn't known his parents long enough to recall their personalities, and he barely knew the shape of their faces. He felt bad for thinking it, but he didn't really care.

The only bad part about it, Manuel thinks, is living here. Just at the thought, he glances out of the window. His uncle has always been harsh towards him, insulting him, making him do more work around the farm than necessary. Manuel would've done anything to be sent to an orphanage, but it isn't like he can do anything about that. His uncle would just put up his I'm so innocent face if he ever requested it towards someone who cared, and that would be that. Once again, Manuel didn't get to choose how his life turned out, he just had to react to it smartly.

Right as he is about to step out of the door, he hears a few angry shouts from the living room, and just right after, the sound of his uncle pounding on the door. “What is it?” Manuel asks patiently, opening the door gently so his uncle could reverently barge in without completely damaging Manuel's door so he would have to fix it later. That had happened once, actually, and it had been exhausting putting it back together, especially after a long day of farmwork. Manuel doesn't want to do it again.

His uncle glares down at Manuel, huffing impatiently. This boy, he thinks, is such a piece of nonsense! "You're five minutes late,“ the man snaps. Who could dare be that late to tend to the farm? The boy was probably dilly-dallying, and the old man hates anyone who dilly-dallied. It's such a waste of time.

”I'm sorry,“ the stupid boy apologizes. ”I'll get to work now. Extra quickly.“

The man rolls his eyes. What a stupid promise. ”You better,“ he huffs. He turns towards the door, examining it. ”And next time, don't open the door for me. You actin' like I can't do it myself when you do that, yeah?“

”No . . .“ Manuel stutters before nodding his head. ”I'm sorry, sir. I'll make sure not to do it again. I acknowledge your ability to open a door.“ Manuel half-smiles at himself. He should use those types of jokes more often. They were funny, because it takes so long for his uncle to comprehend what they mean. His uncle always calls him stupid yet he's stupid himself.

The man gruffly nods at the little child. ”Get to work now, or you won't get breakfast."

It's not like I get breakfast most days anyway, because you find some sort of excuse to take it away from me, Manuel thinks dreadfully. But he nods anyway. “Of course, sir.”

And just like that, the day of work starts. Manuel feels his clothes get all sweaty after an hour of scooping up the horse's poop. He feels his boots get all muddy as he takes care of the pigs. He feels himself get all dirty as his uncle laughs at him from the window, watching his niece do all the farmwork for him while he drank his morning coffee with the most buttery looking pancakes Manuel has ever seen.

After the sun sets, Manuel allows himself to return back inside, his stomach rumbling. He is allowed one meal a day, and it's a small one, so the boy has grown skinny. His uncle always enjoyed bullying Manuel about his height and size, and Manuel always wished to tell him that it was because he wasn't fed enough. But of course, saying that would give himself great punishment, so he never dares.

Instead, when food is delivered to him, he gobbles it up as quickly as he can. This way, his uncle can't take it away.

After a little while, his uncle bursts into his room to ask for a favor. The uncle glares down at his niece - what a lazy boy, he thinks, sitting around, eating all of this house's food like a pest! He purses his lips. “Boy,” he says, “you have one more job.”

Manuel looks up at his uncle in surprise. “I do?” he asks. He's certain he's completed all of his tasks for the day, and his muscles are aching - he doesn't feel like doing anything at all.

“Yes,” his uncle responds. “You see, I've found a new way to make money. Can't believe i overlooked it. I'm a smart farmer, after all, yeah boy?”

“Yes, sir,” Manuel says. It's a lie.

“Well, anyway, I've decided that we should sell some of our meat. It'd do us good, wouldn't it?”

Manuel's face turns pale. “I . . . suppose so,” he mumbles. “Have you hired someone to kill our . . . meat?”

His uncle laughs. “Hell no, boy!” he exclaims. “Imagine how much money that would cost us! No, of course not - you're gonna do it for me.”

And just like that, his uncle grabs Manuel and hulls him to his feet. Manuel is given a knife, and his uncle drags him to the barn.

There he kills so, so, so many animals. And as he watches the blood splatter all around them, he knows that this will be a new dirt that'll be added to his trousers. All because of his uncle.

And he knew that his life was gonna get a lot worse.

That night, he collapses in bed, his face driven with tears.



Quick note: This is definitely not my best story. I'm going to edit it later, make everything more . .. real. But I like it, still.

Word count: 1058 words

I have no words. There were these brilliant stories sitting here this whole time and I never bothered to look?! I love the poem so so much. It's magnificent. The stories are admirable as well! I'm not even sure if I'm supposed to comment here! Hah, I've thought about joining SWC (seems like a finely constructed community, I can respect such organization) but then I remember Whisperpeak and my desperate trying to improve and forget about it. I want to devote all my time to Whisperpeak, improve improve improve improve.

MysticScratches wrote:

I have no words. There were these brilliant stories sitting here this whole time and I never bothered to look?! I love the poem so so much. It's magnificent. The stories are admirable as well! I'm not even sure if I'm supposed to comment here! Hah, I've thought about joining SWC (seems like a finely constructed community, I can respect such organization) but then I remember Whisperpeak and my desperate trying to improve and forget about it. I want to devote all my time to Whisperpeak, improve improve improve improve.

Thank you! Haha I still admire your ability to stay so consistent and devoted with Whisperpeak! <3 I definitely don't have the same loyalty to BW lol-

daily 6 (3/6/24)

(Made up genre): Betrayal

Remember when I thought you loved me?

It was a silly little thought. I had questioned everything you said to me that day when you asked me out, because you had never noticed me - not even once. Now that I think about it, I have never recalled you looking at me or saying, “Hi Maya,” once. Maybe I am just so unimportant to you that you haven't even had the time to look at me. You were probably too caught up with your sports, or your games, or breaking people's hearts. Like what you did to mine.

I remember your exact words that day. They were silly, but I had believed them. “I've had a crush on you all these years.” “You . . . didn't realize? I stare at you when you aren't looking. Like every obsessed guy does.” "I've been wanting to gain your attention . . . my friends finally just convinced me to do . . . well, this today.“ The funny thing was, you probably didn't even know my name. My head was probably woozy after you walked up to my locker, smiling awkwardly at me that maybe I just couldn't see logic in this situation. Maybe I was just being stupid. And so I replied simply, with a large grin and a fluttery, stupid heart.

”Yes. I'll go out with you."

My friends had warned me as soon as I told them.

He's a heartbreaker.

You think he's gonna love someone like you?

You're caught up in another one of your dreams, Maya.

Face it. This isn't the reality you want.

But I suppose I had never been a listener, because I had went out with him that very night.

***

Remember our first date?

I watched your blonde hair whip around your face in the wind, and you looked so beautiful in the moonlight. You held the door open for me, remember that? Told me I looked beautiful.

I opened up to you that night. I fell into your little trick. Because you made me feel special. The spotlight was on me for once. I had everything I wanted. With you by my side, I had everything. So I told you.

I told you my insecurities. My secrets. Everything I could ever know. And you reassured me. You promised I was beautiful. You chuckled at my secrets, you said you would never tell anyone. You listened to everything I said, you hung on to every word.

That night, I left with butterflies flying around in my stomach. That night, I felt like dancing and smiling and partying.

The next morning, I felt like crying.

Guess what was posted on social media right after our date. Posted by no other than you.

(Unfinished, going to edit more later, just gotta post it so it saves! ;D)

☆*:..｡ Daily 11 .｡.:*☆

The girl has always cried.

Sadness, lingering inside her. The anger, boiling - so much of it that she can never find the courage to push it away. There's always so many emotions haunting the little body of hers - every turn you take will lead to horrors. It's all been too much.

Maybe that's how she lets it all out. Crying over little things, like whether she has to do the dishwasher or not, or set the table, or clean her room, or do her math homework. Every little frustration causes her to break down, fall, just because there's so many things going on inside. How many times has she screamed at her brother for mocking her, with tears slipping down her cheeks at the very same time? Probably around twenty. How many times has she let little words shape into a deeper, more negative meaning - making a monster out of her own delusional mind? A lot.

It's called being overwhelmed. Letting your mental life and your physical mix up so you can't tell which is which. A type of delusional disorder that the girl has created for herself.

She doesn't know why she cries sometimes. Emotions come out of the nowhere often, as if they have this special ability that allows them to teleport into her mind. Maybe she's inviting them in - letting down her walls of protection and making herself vulnerable, not immune to any attacks from the horrible world of the outside. All . . . too . . . much . . .

The thing is, she knows that she's a crybaby, through and through. The girl wishes for anything to stop this little habit of hers . . . be true and real to herself for once in her life. To bring out the positive, love herself - be understanding and kind when it comes to constructive criticism. Stop crying over little things, stop letting emotions out this way. She wishes for it all to crash down. If only she could let this problem of hers out by breathing.

She wants to be that one student, open to learning and success. She wants to stop all of these negative thoughts from lingering in her mind, waiting to unleash. She wants to stop it all, forever, from coming again. It's so exhausting, sometimes, trying to keep it at bay - sometimes she just lets it loose . . . But she can't do that without humiliating herself.

Being a crybaby with so much emotions to channel out can be quite exhausting sometimes.

Why can't I change? Why can't I let these out a different way . . .

Word count: 394 words (while I was writing this, I thought it said “400 words”. After writing this, I realized the requirement was only 200- xD)

☆*:..｡ Daily 16 .｡.:*☆

Chloe wakes up to her alarm clock beeping hysterically, as if taunting the dark circles under her eyes and her messy hair. She slams the top of it in response to shut it up before rolling over to check the time, tapping the screen of her phone - its blue light revealing her half-asleep face. 7:00 a.m., it says to her. She imagines how her phone's voice must sound - pleasant and sing-songy, happy to show her the time that she hated with her whole heart: The time where she has to get up. She groans and dramatically falls off of the bed before picking out her outfit and gently combing her hair with a brush. That's the only thing she does gently - combing her hair. Otherwise, she throws and slams things so carelessly that there might as well be an angry bull in your room to replace her. She quickly eats breakfast before rushing back upstairs into her room, aggressively opening her computer (she is very physical with certain things) and checking the Main Cabin SWC. Or basically the daily. She grins as she sees it, wishing for more than anything to write it right now. But of course, her mother quickly ushers her downstairs, complaining that they were late. Again. Chloe smiles, snorting. They were late every single day. Honestly, it shouldn't even be a surprise anymore.

The rest of the day flew by. She makes it to school, runs to her first period class (she literally enters right as the bell rings, and the teacher regards her with a raised eyebrow). First class goes by: Boring. Second goes by: Even more boring. She had been sleeping. And third: A little more interesting, because you know, English, but they were doing anything but write. Instead they were reading this stupid book that sounded like it was written by really old philosophers in which Chloe had no interest in.

And then her favorite part of the day comes just a few classes after that: Home! As the last bell of the day rings gleefully, she springs out of her chair and meets her mom in the parking lot - who is clearly not amused that she's the first person in the line of kids to reach the pick-up area. She's probably the most excited to go home too.

As she enters her room after school that day, she sits at her desk. And finally writes the daily.


Word Count: 407 words

Wow, I had fun with this daily! Uh . . . Chloe is a very interesting character.

-Sunmeadow- wrote:

I even thought about telling the teacher the move this way too confident new girl to another desk,

This took me a bit to understand . . .

Maybe use commas to make it more clear to what you're saying?

(e.g.: “way-too-confident”)