Word Count: 438
Luz looked in the mirror, blinking back tears. Her mom and dad were about to unveil another abomination weapon, and she was not about to be seen crying right before the presentation. She sucked in a breath and sucked it up before walking out onto the stage.

Amity looked at her mom, confused by the pamphlet in her hand, “Whaaat are you doing with that?”
Odalia sighed, “Amity, I just think that you need to… learn some new skills, that’s all. You’ll be able to write letters, and you’ll be much better off by the time you come home. In the meantime, can I have that book of yours?”
Amity shook, clutching the book closer to her chest, “I… I don’t want to-”
Odalia huffed, crossing her arms, “Please? After the incident at school, I think it’s best that you go and… learn new things…”
The pair continued to converse, and Amity eventually handed The Good Witch Azura to her mom with resentment piling up in her mind.

Luz glanced at her sibling, Vee, standing in the doorway. She giggled, coming in and ruffling up Luz’s hair, “Why do you look so blue all of a sudden? It doesn’t look good on you-” Luz shrugged, slumping over a bit in her chair, “I… I don’t know-”

Amity watched her mom toss her book into a giveaway box in the driveway. Her favorite! A gift from her father! How could her mom do this…? It seemed so cruel, so heartless. Amity had read through that pamphlet. She wouldn’t be learning new skills. She’d be learning how to be NORMAL. And that was something that Amity never wanted to learn how to do. After Odalia came back inside, Amity snuck out to the driveway and began to rummage through the box. However, she couldn’t find it, which was strange to her… Hm, was that an animal running away with her favorite book?

Luz ran toward the cauldron that supposedly contained Willow’s latest ‘abomination’. But Luz knew better. She saw those life-like eyes when Willow presented. There was no way in all the Boiling Isles that she actually did that all her own. She was SO sure that her childhood friend/enemy was cheating, and she was determined to prove it! No one would be better than her. She ran up, yelling at Willow and demanding to see what was in the goo. After Luz had had enough, she reached into the cauldron herself, pulling out a scrawny girl, with short green hair. Her eyes widened. Wow, how strange. She shook her violently, now utterly certain that she wasn’t an abomination.

Daily 11/6 (1,001 Words)
(Spoilers for this series, even though this is an AU!)
A worker drone booted up, laying face up on a snow covered wasteland. The moon was up above, but it was shrouded by a huge fog storm. Snow pelted every exposed structure, including her visor. When she finally reactivated, she sat up with an excited grin. She had no memory besides knowing what she was. She was a worker drone, launched into space for some reason or another by humans who had nothing better to do with their lives. She assumed they expected her to figure out what to do with herself, so she planned to do that. Not for them of course. She was… curious.
“Sit- up-” She dictated, getting up from the ground in a ragdoll series of movements. “Peek-” She looked around, inspecting her surroundings. She couldn't see much through the snowstorm. There were trees around this area, some tilted at an angle from some kind of disturbance. She touched the bark of one with her metallic hands, giggling a little more. “How strange- You seem to be LIVING- I do not.” She was surviving out in this weather after all. Suddenly she felt the wind pick up, shaking the trees. She tilted her head, an eye glitching as she saw what was coming. A truck emerged from the dense fog, the wind blowing hard enough to carry it. She stared at it blankly. “Ohhh-” She was cut off abruptly as the truck collided broadside.

Next she woke up she was propped up against a surface. Her vision recalibrated as she tried to get back on her feet. A very informative message on her HUD said “head trauma lol.” She smacked her head to dismiss it, chuckling. Pain was interesting. She stood, running her hand against a cold metal wall. It looked like a huge barrier, split in the middle with the potential for opening. Seemed very door like, of the industrial variety. She scratched at the frost sticking to it, wondering if there was some kind of secret password as if this were one of those childhood games you played to get attention from others. “Open- door-” She said, trying to wiggle her fingers into the small crevasse. “I want to come- inside-” There seemed to be no response.
“Frustrated look.” She started getting upset, knocking her fist on the door. “Open- get open- door-” She tried putting her fingers into the ridge again, eyes narrowing. “Come on- open- Let me IN-” Suddenly there was a sheering metal noise, her fingers, or rather claws now, fitting cleanly through the slit. “Confuse.” She looked at her hand. The whole thing had been replaced by several thin sharp blades that acted somewhat like talons, able to fit through the barely visible gap between the metal panels. She stared at it with growing excitement of what she could do with scalpels for fingers, when she heard a noise behind her. She wasn't able to turn around before she felt it right behind her, pinning her to the wall. “What are you doing trying to get into the company shelter?” they demanded in a snooty, professional voice. “Trying- To get- out-” The worker drone replied, noticing her super cool new sharpness hands had gotten wedged as she tried to look at whoever was talking to her. “You- how did you get past the doors??” Finally she got a glimpse of something behind her. She was wearing a turtleneck with a gap that allowed room for a shirt and tie to be visible. She was a drone, much like herself, and had a sword for an arm. A sword! How stabby that could be! On the sweater she spotted a name badge which read “Facility Supervisor J.”
“How- c-curious.” J looked confused as she spoke.
“What? What's curious?”
“You have a sharp arm- like me!” She clicked some of her metal claws together, still trying to get loose from the door.
J looked at her situation and flinched just for a minute, seeing the clawed hand. She made a face, before rolling her eyes and pressing a button, the huge metal door suddenly opening, freeing the drone from her self inflicted prison. “I'll let you in if you don't cause trouble. I'll happily kick you back out if you disturb things here.”
The drone looked up at J, now having a look of awe and admiration in her digital expression. “I- will not cause trouble- INTENTIONALLY-” J smacked her head, which surprised her.
“Don't talk back, it's throwing me off. Got it?”
Okay, now she admired J a little less. However, she did want to be let inside. “Sheepish- nod- I mean, yes-” She relaxed her hand, causing it to change back to normal. Disappointing, but necessary.
“Good.” J started walking her inside, the door closing behind her. “Get inside, charge up, and make yourself useful in the morning. I won't tolerate insubordinate employees.”
The drone made a goofy salute, trying to respect J's authority. J just rolled her eyes, then went to yell at some robots for carrying a metal platform wrong. After being left alone, the drone wandered over to some soft makeshift beds almost like a refugee camp. She'd been told to charge up, but she wanted to lay down instead. She went onto her knees, testing the cushioning on the bed. Bubble wrap! The best kind of cushioning! The unnamed drone finally laid down, staring at the ceiling. She didn't want to power down, so she just laid there. The workplace sounds around her faded into the background, leaving her with her thoughts, which was mostly silence interrupted by occasional glitch sound effects. Having no thoughts was quite nice. No worries, no aspirations to work towards, no existential dread to unpack. Just computer humming noises. She had not a thought behind her visor. Not even when a string of code appeared on her HUD for a few moments.
HstID:Cyn 01011000
sys/Cyn.reset(ABSOLUTE_SOLVER)
ERROR//ABSOLUTE_SOLVER not responding
Resetting again in 15 m 47 s
46
45
44
43

I stood in front of my mirror, knowing that it was finally true. With my psychic abilities, I had the power to overtake Dark Reunion. Maybe I could enlist the help of my friend, Saiki, knowing his superb abilities at being perfectly average. He would surely be willing to help me fend off the evils of this world. I can’t imagine he would be so cruel as to allow Japan to fall into disarray because of his lack of motivation to beat the bad guys.
But how could I convince him? He was so perfectly ordinary, that it would be near impossible to convince him to help me take over the world. He would surely gain a lot of unwanted attention from adoring fans.
He would hate that. Shining, I thought to myself that I must do it alone. The fate of the world's greatest hero was a dark and lonely path.
“Saiki!” I yelled.
He looked annoyed. He seemed very upset that I was talking to him. Oh, wait. I could read minds. Using my psychic powers, I read his mind to confirm my suspicions. He did not like me.
He thought I was silly, immature, and a bit pathetic. He thought of me as a young child and I began to cry tears of sadness. “Why do you hate me so much, Saiki?!”
He rolled his eyes and walked away. What a rude man. I bet he was a member of the Dark Reunion himself!
Of course, my suspicions could only be confirmed one way. I would have to infiltrate his mind and test if he was truly a member of the evil organization.
Upon entering his home, his mother greeted me. She thought I was pretty cool and she definitely would help me fight against Saiki if he was with Dark Reunion.
I nodded at her with an edge in my eyes. He both knew the time had come to confirm our suspicions.
I climbed the stairs with anger, all the while reading Saiki’s mind.
There were no signs.., but that didn’t mean anything. He could very easily lie about his intentions telepathically.
Yes, I’m sure that was the case. I slammed open the door to see him sitting across the bed from that one kid from school whose name I didn’t know.
“Saiki! Are you a member of the Dark Reunion?” The boss music played.
He rolled his eyes at me. “No. Why are you in my house?”

NOVEMBER 6TH - DAILY - PENELOPE AND ODYSSEUS - UNFINISHED

“Listen up,” Penelope instructed, bow hefted across her shoulder and a quiver of arrows laying beside her, lit by the dim firelight of the torches held by her comrades. The feathery ends of the arrows lay just outside the leather, brushing the leather straps, and Penelope grabbed the straps and tugged the quiver closer to her, hearing the rattle of the giant wooden horse they were currently all crouching in shake across gravelly floors. Not long ago, all but the best of her soldiers sailed away to lull the Troys into a false sense of security. That they had won. Fools. The battle wasn't over until Ares commanded it. And if they thought they had won, they had another thing coming. Specifically, Penelope backed up by six hundred soldiers, thing coming.
Four faces were visible in the faint firelight, all tense. Their quiet breathing was covered up by loud clanking and rattling. Penelope felt the horse slowly wheel to a stop. Night was surely coming.
Not daring to risk a single mistake to mess up Penelope's crafty plan, she began to delegate roles. Not a single screw-up would be made tonight. Every one of her comrades, every person that came, she trusted each of them with her very life. The battlefield today would be at the very heart of the Troys and once dawn broke, the battlefield shall be surrounded by red just as a heart would.
Night fell. Penelope felt the air around her grow colder, either by the tense, but not nervous nature of her comrades, or by the sun, slowly sinking down the horizon so the moon, hopefully bright enough to guide the aim of her arrows but dim enough that they wouldn’t be found out immediately. She gestured to the rest of the smattering of people qualified and competent enough to be here. To be the victor.
“Attack!” Stealth, subtlety, Ares taught her it all, but nothing could match the adrenaline that shouting those words could give her. Torches fell to the ground, extinguished as the fast, silent footsteps practiced by Penelope and the rest of her soldiers kicked dirt up over them. Penelope’s bow was on her back, but she was holding a sword firmly in her palms, clutching it as she rushed across the dusty ground. She felt her heartbeat rattle in her chest, she felt her breath get faster, warmer, but no panic entered her head. She felt calm, despite both her and Ares’ controlled rage thrumming in her chest like a heartbeat of it's own. Today was the day the Greeks would seize victory, and she could sail home. To Ithaca, her kingdom, to Telemachus, her son. For everything and everyone she fought for.
Odysseus.

Peter pan - Tinkerbell and wendy swap

Fairy hollow got lonely as a tinkering fairy, Tinkerbell knew that feeling well. In a world with fairies that can control the tides and the winds and the animals, all she could do was put nails and bits and bobs together. It wasn’t the life she hoped for, and so in the night she left a note, a contraption that rang bells that made the same tinkling sound as she, “I’m leaving,” it meant, “This is my final goodbye” and she waited right outside pixie hollow to see if anyone would look for her. No one did.

She wasn’t sad, disappointed maybe, but it was just what she expected. She hadn’t many– any– friends really. So there and then she fluttered her wings and took to the sky. She would follow the stars, she decided, they would lead her somewhere she could thrive, so for days and nights she did.

Fairies are small creatures, fragile as well, born from a child’s first laugh and killed by one confessing they no longer believed. They don’t have magic, or at the least, not as much as some stories say, especially if they’re a tinkerer, so the journey took long. She flew from flower to flower and slept in twig-built groves, sipping on dewdrops and thanking bees for their honeycombs. She realized, in her travels, she wished for adventure over all else. Her trip towards the stars filled her with more happiness than she ever had in the hollow.

But the stars didn’t lead her to new planets or far off lands or mermaids and pirates and creatures she’s only seen in dreams. It led her to a scape of a towering building. Sleek and bright, stealing the starlight unlike the rough bark of the pixie dust tree. It was noisy, filled with bits and bobs and everything she ever dreamed. She wished to fly to the top of the massive buildings that scraped the sky, then she would be able to see the world.

But in her shock, she tripped on a petal and she tumbled her way to the ground. She rubbed her head muttering curses at her clumsiness when a shadow fell over her. She heard the laughs of the massive boy before she saw him. Then she saw his face: eyes of mischief, clothed in simple green just as her, his playful boyish smile, his pearly whites too small. Baby teeth she figured, just as she realized she had been staring too long.

Her tinkers were alarmed as she jolted upright, she felt her face grow warm. He simply laughed young and innocent, the laughs of someone who had not yet learned to care. “Look at what I found Wendy!” He called out, Tinkerbell hadn’t realized anyone else was there. She had no time to think about how this boy, a human, had seen her. And the first thing he did was pick her up by the wings and set her on his palm.
Of course such an action is audacious! She’s a fairy, not some plaything! She pointed a finger at him, her wings fluttering angrily, but she couldn’t bring herself to tinkle. His eyes looked at with such interest that made her feel shy. This feeling didn’t make sense to her, but she held her usually un-fairy like tongue.

“I’m coming Peter! Oh, I can’t wait to see what it is, a gift for a lady perhaps?” A feminine voice came from behind. And soon enough another large face came into view. A girl now, fair-skinned and lithe. Her face lit up at the sight of Tinkerbell, and yet she found the feeling not as welcome. The girl, Wendy, was so obviously different from the boy she learned to be Peter. She had the grace of the fairies she never cared to know back at the hollow, the gentle matureness that only restrained her. Without even knowing the humans, Tinkbell knew she was like Peter, curious and unbridled. She didn’t care to be like or know Wendy.

She felt another strange feeling sprout in her heart. She wished for Wendy to disappear. To only have Peter’s attention, not hers as well. Who would wish to be looked at by someone so prim and proper, her eyes may be bright with innocence, but behind them Tinkerbell saw only judgment.

(I used two of my own characters, Thorn and Holly, but changed up who made the decision to leave the canyon colony.)

Thorn gazed into the early morning sky, his feathers blowing in the cool dawn breeze. Holly stood beside him, her eyes resolute but filled with an unmistakable sorrow. They both knew what was coming, though Thorn still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. His heart felt as heavy as the canyon’s stone walls surrounding them.
“I have to go,” Holly said, breaking the silence at last, her voice steady but gentle. “Shade’s path is… it feels right. My sister needs me.”
Thorn shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. “But what about our eggs? About me? I know she’s your sister, but we’re your family, too, Holly.”
Holly’s expression softened, her wingtip brushing against Thorn’s, but she didn’t waver. “Ash’s leadership will keep you safe here. And the eggs… I trust you to raise them well.”
The words were like sharp pebbles, stabbing at Thorn’s heart. All his life, he had tried to stay strong for her, hiding his every insecurity so that she’d never know how close he was to coming undone. And now she believed he could handle the stress of raising hatchlings by himself. He supposed it was his own fault for misleading her, but now that the consequences were upon him, he nearly collapsed with dread. He couldn’t do this. He wanted to scream, rage at her, beg her to stay, pin her down so that he wouldn’t have to be alone with his demons. She had to know that he couldn’t be trusted on his own.
But Holly had already turned away, her figure silhouetted against the first rays of light. With one last look back, she spread her wings and took off, shrinking into the distance as the sky swallowed her up.
Seasons passed.
Thorn lived every day in a perpetual nightmare, tortured, haunted. Every night, he fought the urge to fly away from the canyon and hurl himself into the void of the night sky, never to return. But he knew that there was no escape. He had built this trap himself, and the only one who could free him had left him behind. So he stayed, broken and fitful, a shell of who he used to be.
Somehow both eggs had hatched safely.
Thorn had done his best to raise them. He did love them, after all. He just hated how much they reminded him of her. How much they talked about her. One time, they had even tried to sneak out to find her, but he had snarled at them with a power he didn’t know he had, forcing them to stay like he had to stay. Part of the canyon forever. The guilt when he saw the fear in their eyes lingered still.
But they grew up into fine young shazarxi, despite everything. Thorn’s anxiety hardened into something colder, more bitter.
One gentle evening, under the old willow tree where they’d first met, Thorn spotted a familiar figure landing softly. Holly approached him, her feathers now streaked with gray and her once-bright eyes shadowed with age and regret. She hesitated, her gaze pleading as she faced the mate she had left behind.
“Thorn,” she said quietly, “I… I’m sorry.”
But Thorn’s heart had been frozen by years of hurt and sacrifice. He took a step back, memories of long nights and lonely days flooding his mind. Of breaking down again and again. “You left me, Holly.”
Holly’s face fell, her wings drooping. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought… you’d understand.”
“Maybe I did, once,” Thorn replied, his voice rougher than he’d intended. “But understanding doesn’t make the pain go away.”
They stood in silence, the bond they’d once shared feeling fractured and brittle. Slowly, though, Thorn’s stance softened, the anger in his gaze dulling to sadness. He’d spent years resenting Holly, yet now, seeing her here again, part of him longed for the companionship they’d once had. He knew forgiveness wouldn’t come easily, but maybe, in time, they could begin to mend what had been broken.

daily for paranormal! 497 words (hehe I love including tiny references to tiny things) (* * means italics I ran out of time to format it sorry)

He woke up in the dark, a mass of black, almost as if it were swallowing him whole. Panic rose in his throat. *Where was he? What was happening?*

*Who was he?*

He couldn't even remember his own name, he realized with another fresh wave of panic. It felt like he knew it, but he just couldn't remember. Sam? Stephen? Toby? They all sounded farmiliar but none of them were his. No, it started witn an *N*. He was about to remember, he could tell–

Then the box–he assumed it was a box, but he wasn't certain, in the darkness–began to move. It jolted violently, shuddering and rumbling like it was about to give up entirely. Then, slowly, it began to move, climbing upwards. The boy cowered in the corner.

He wasn't sure how long the box had been moving for; it could've been hours for all he knew, but eventually it stopped. He expected something to happen, more like hoped, but nothing did. It stayed dark and silent except for the sound of his quick breaths.

Then, the top opened. Light poured in, blinding him. Faces peered down at him. They were teenagers, maybe a few who were a little older, but overall around his age. One boy with dark, messy hair stepped up through the the crowd.

“Nice to meet ya, shank,” the boy said. “Welcome to the Glade.”

* * *

“So, Greenie. What's your name?” the boy–Thomas, as he now knew–asked.

“Newt.”

“Well, then, Newt–we've gotta give you the Tour, show you around the place. You'll be needing a job, too; we'll see what you're good at. Sound good?”

“Alright.”

“Why're you talking like that?”

“What do you mean? I'm talking normally.”

“No, you sort of drop your R's and your A's sound different. Never mind–we'd better get started with the Tour. You've got to meet Alby, too.”

The Glade, as Newt found out, was where most everyone stayed. They had gardens and a few shacks where they slept, and some other jobs, too. Then suddenly, a scream echoed through the camp. It was barely human, almost a screech, and it made Newt's blood freeze.

“What was *that*?

Thomas grimaced. ”That's Ben. He got…stung. Just don't go in there, okay? You'll find out about that soon enough.“

Stung? Stung by what? What was here that could do..that? What was beyond those walls that surrounded the Glade? Was that where the things, the creatures, lived?

Thomas glanced back at him. ”C'mon. There's another job I haven't shown you yet.“

* * *

Four boys came running from outside the walls. They had their own weapons with them, and special equipment. Thomas pointed at them.

”Those are the Runners. They explore the Maze, map it. You know, I think you'd make a good Runner. You seem like the right type.“

Newt silently agreed; he could run. He could fight, with some training. He could be a Runner.

”Well, there's the Glade for you. Now, c'mon, I still need to find Alby."

I made a Mega Man-Roll swap. Enjoy. 588 words.

The world was practically over. Dr. Wily had ravaged the world. Once colleagues of the famous scientist, engineer, and world peace activist Dr. Light, things turned sour among the two, as Wily could not accept Light's concepts of a Robot Master winning over the mad scientist's violent Double Gear System add-on. He enacted revenge, stealing all 7 of Dr. Light's coveted Robot Masters away from him, and reprogrammed then to become ruthless killers. He destroyed countless countries with them, throwing the whole world into chaos.

The world was over.
But he left two.

Rock and Roll, two household cleaning robots, and Dr. Light's proudest work. They were his children to him. Little did he know, one of these robots would step up, let themselves be upgraded to a fully functional combat robot with the sole goal of saving the world, gaining a weapon copy system to adapt to any occasion, and become the hero we know as…

…Mega Woman?

“Dr. Light, please let me help!” Roll begged, which caught Rock's eye. Such level of courage was unusual for her. She must have been really passionate about this.
“Roll, I understand how important this issue is to you. But you know how deep my hatred for violence goes,” Light upheld, “and fighting fire with fire isn't going to make anything better.
Rock felt the need to step in. They've gone back and forth for about 20 minutes and 40 seconds, if his internal clock served him right.
”Light, let Roll go.“
”WHAT?“ Light exclaimed.
”Think about it. What choice do we have? The world's been screwed over by Wily for long enough. It's been a week and no one has stopped him. And if he won't talk it out, it will only get worse if we don't do something. And if she wants to go, she should go. It'll give us a fighting chance at worst.“ Rock expected some hesitance, but he loved his sister, and he would support her for and long as she could.
”Light. I swear I'll do my best. It's just… so much is happening, and it's new, and I want to do something about it for once!“ Roll said passionately.
”Roll, you aren't well equipped for this task. If anyone, I'd have your brother-“
”ENOUGH about my brother. It's always been him. I've always been second. Why, because you made him first? I finally have a chance to take lead and make a change. A really big change, for one! So why won't you let me have it?“
”I second her,“ Rock adds.
”Rock?“ Wily says, confused.
”She's my sister. It's my job to give her what she wants, as much as it is yours. And I say we give her a chance.“
”Well, it seems we have no choice. Roll, you may be upgraded.“
”Dad, thank you! I won't let you down, and-“
”On one condition.“
”W-what?“ Roll exclaimed. ”What are you going to do??“
”Come back safe, will you, child?“
”Of course I will, Dad.“
”Oh, and sis,“ Rock added, ”I'll be here. And if you ever need anything, or need to heal up, just come back and let us know. Ooh, you know what we need? A name. Light, any ideas?“
”These upgrades involve a new arm cannon called the Mega Buster. Mega. Mega… Woman.“
”Yes, Mega Woman! That's perfect!"
Roll was now Mega Woman, a new hero set off to defeat Dr. Wily once and for all. But what would become of our hero?

Find out later on Mega Woman!

I'm not continuing this BTW, this was fun though

Daily 7:
Ten word prompt by @starr-light: i sold seashells by the sea shore. now, everything's flooded.
“Okay so, I used to have this awesome shop by sea shore where sold sea shells, and now it’s flooded! Someone please explain what is going?” Sally demanded, her hands on her hips, as she looked down across the giant mess of sea water and shells all over the floor, with Mandy, Ron, and Sue stand around in it. Everyone was quiet. “Okay, if none of you are going to tell me, then i’ll just have to pick someone to tell me.” Sally said. After a moment of silence, she pointed her finger at Mandy. “Mandy, you tell me.”
“Okay so, we were running the shop while you were gone” Mandy said, nervously curling with her dark brown hair around her finger. “I know that much, continue.”
“And we kind of maaaybe left the one mini window door thingy open…” Sue said quietly, looking at the water covered floor. “You WHAT? I told you that it need to be closed so the shop didn’t flood when the tide came in!” Sally yelled; everyone looked at the floor. “And then what happened?” She demanded, taking a breath. “Then the otter happened…” Ron said.
“The otter?” Sally questioned
“The otter.” Sue replied.
“An otter may have gotten in when the tide came in…” Mandy said quietly
“…And knocked over all the shells…” Sue said
“…Into the water…” Ron added.
Sally just stood there, with her hand on her face, shaking her head. “There’s just one thing i don’t understand.” Sally said, after a moment of silence “How did you get the otter out?”
“Oh, uhh… we didn’t” Mandy said.
“Wait, WHAT. There’s an otter in here?!”
“…Yes…”
Sally facepalmed.

277 words

return to main post

Word War 1
prompt: “in a world of black and white, you would be red.”

I didn't know what to do, seeing her lying down like that in a pool of red.

“Hey, HEY! Wake up!”

She didn't respond.

War still raged around us, I didn't know how to stop this. How to tell everyone in this battle, the blade had slashed the princess of war, and there's still nothing to stop this. She cannot stop the chaos she caused when she is unable to wake up.

“Nathan, she's probably dead. We need to go.”
“No. I refuse to believe.”

I crouched by her, and held her hand, feeling for a pulse around her wrist. Feeling for any source of life that is trying to find its way to me.

Instead I felt nothing, in the dark world of war, I only saw the red glint of her blood on my hands.

137 words

November 7th - Ten Word Prompt - 255 words - “Sometimes, all it takes is a whole lotta cat food” @-WildClan-

“Renée, you did not just-“ Robert was either in shock or absolutely done, and Renée still couldn’t tell which one it was, even after three years of marriage and six of being in a relationship. Renée smiled as she walked through the door, holding a tiny kitten, having returned rather late from the day shift.

“It was on the road,” Renée said. “I couldn’t just leave it there,”

Renée was not one to make impulsive, rash decisions, but here was a cat, on the side of the road, and her heart had exploded.

Robert sighed. “I supposed we have been talking about getting a pet in the house, but this was not what I was expecting.”

Renée looked at Robert. “Yeah, but rescue cats are better than ones that have been bred. I’m sure Ally would appreciate and love this little one -“ she waved one of the kitten’s tiny paws, “- just as much as any other cat,”

Renée passed the kitten into Robert’s arms, as she leaned down to untie her shoes. As she did so, she watched the kitten leap back into her arms.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Renée laughed, trying her best to catch the kitten. “He’s safe, I promise.”

“How did you even get it to like you that much?” Robert asked. Renée could tell he was still clearly reeling from the shock of having a cat jump out of his arms, and was trying to soothe some pain.

“Sometimes,” Renée smiled, “all it takes is a whole lotta cat food.”

Hybri's dump
7/11 daily
mist, trapped, voices, lullaby, awake, nevermore, scarred, discretion, blink, pigeon
Where am I?
I can't see anything. Only cold, damp mist. The type of mist that seeps into your skin, that creeps up your spine and seizes control of you, bringing fear.
I force my legs, numb from the cold, to move. I start walking. And walking. Without realizing, my pace increases, and soon enough, I'm running, panting hard. It didn't take long to realize that this misty place is endless. Perhaps I'm trapped here.
I don't allow myself to entertain that thought. Then I hear them. Giggling. Deep, sonorous voices, overlapping with high, melodious ones. Gradually, the voices go silent.
Suddenly, a flight of pigeons burst from the mist, singing. The lyrics are in a language unfamiliar to me, harmonizing perfectly. I only recognize one word, which is repeated throughout the song. Nevermore. A memory reappears in my mind. This… this was the lullaby my mother sang to me when I was a child. The pigeons surround me, feathers brushing against me.
The song brings an otherworldly kind of peace, impossible to describe. For a long time, I am still, listening to the lullaby, leaning into the soft complexion of the pigeons’ feathers,
slowly
drifting
Off
“Wake up!”
I sit up ramrod straight with a gasp that sends me choking, rubbing my eyes.
It seems that I have fallen asleep while studying. But I'm awake now. It mustn't happen again.
I run a hand through my hair– wait. What is that? I pluck it out and examine it. Huh… it's a pigeon feather.
Something ice-cold stabs me in the chest. I look down, horrified, expecting blood to gush out in fountains, but there is none. When I look up the next moment, I come face to face with my mother. But her eyes… her soulless eyes… are much colder than the stab in my chest.
“My child,” her voice, so similar, yet so different.
“I am not your child.”
“Stay. With us. With the pigeons and me.”
“It is entirely within my discretion whether I will stay or leave.”
Her face contorts into a hideous recreation of her previously humane face. She snarls and lunges at me. I close my eyes
and in a blink of an eye
she is gone.
In front of me, is a mirror. My face- my face! When had it been scarred this badly? I lean forward to examine it, but the reflection does not follow. Instead, it reaches out an equally scarred arm and grabs my unmarred one, pulling me into the mirror.
420 words

13/11 daily
Song: Two Birds - Regina Spektor
We’ve been best friends since forever. Everyday, we wake up, along with many other girls, and work and study and work all day long.
It’s a routine. The Dictator demands it, may He live forever. We live to serve our country
Then she said something that shocked me to the core: “Let’s escape.”
She said it with excitement, with no fear. She begged me to come. To accompany her. I said I would. But I was too scared. I think it was the first lie I told her.
I watched out of the barred window, her petite figure leaping into the night. I was praying, praying that she made it, that she wouldn’t get caught…
Two more figures appeared. They were larger, bulkier. They captured her. I saw her struggle, I heard her scream.
I didn’t sleep well the entire night.
She was whipped fifteen times and sent to work without a meal for the whole day.
I thought she would give up, but no!
I tried to talk her out of it. I was afraid for her. I feared the Dictator, may He live forever.
I asked her to explain the need, the sudden need to escape. I said I would believe her. I gripped her hands in my sweaty ones and begged her to not leave me.
She shook her head.

Other:
I wake up with a gasp, gulping in big amounts of metallic air. My feet are numb. My hands are numb. What happened? Where am I?
I run a dirty hand through my dirt-caked hair. Those golden locks I used to be so proud of were tangled into knots, barely achieving a shade of yellow. In fact, they were purely brown, which made me wonder, were they even blonde in the first place? I can’t remember. Wait. How old am I? What is my name?
I start to panic, gasping and choking on smoke. My arms flail around. I fall to the ground with a thump, feeling vibrations underneath me. My breath stills. I listen harder. I hear the incessant rumbling of wheels, and rhythmic chugging… It seems like… I am on a train.
I scramble to my feet and almost immediately stumble and fall, but I manage to grip the seats and steady myself.
I slowly make my way to the nearest window, knees buckling, and lower myself onto the seats with a thump.
The train is passing by the countryside and other cities in a blur. Not long after, it slows to a stop, wheels screeching, a puff of smoke released as it finally halts.
“287th station: Weaver Hill.”
287?
I wipe my sweaty hands on my lap, hearing a rustling sound coming from my pocket as I do so. There's something in my pocket, so I take it out.
A piece of paper. It says: “Whatever you do, do not get off this train until the very last stop. Don't let them know.”
Confusion clouds my mind. Something is blocking my memory.
“Excuse me,” I tap on the shoulder closest to me. “Do you know when is the last stop?”
The man looks at me strangely. “It's been nearly a month since the train started. We don't know when the last stop is. There may not be even a last stop, for all we know.” Then he turns away, not wishing to speak any further.
I suck in a shuddering breath. Stuck here, on this train, with no food, water and no memory?
No way.
I don’t know who the heck put me here, erased my memories and expects me to follow whatever they say.
The train lets out a long hoot, signifying that it will leave the station soon. Now or never.
I surge towards the doors and tumble onto the gravel, just as the doors close.

critiques:

Cordelia finds herself standing in front of two stasis chambers. The two that hold people she had talked to every day, since getting on this cursed ship.

This part's grammar seems a bit off. Perhaps you could reconsider this?
Cordelia finds herself standing in front of two stasis chambers, the very two that held the people she had talked to every day, since getting on this cursed ship.

…Was it worth talking to more of the crew, if they were just going to be taken away, like this?

I'd recommend adding more emphasis, maybe something like this, to give a more poetic feel:
Was it even worth talking to the rest of the crew, if they were just going to be taken away, as easily as the wind takes the seeds of a dandelion?

Her hands aren’t shaking when she places yesterday’s bouquet in front of the captain. She’s had a whole day of staring at the pale flowers- a whole day to accept what’s happened. They’ll be better here, she thinks.

It's clear that Cordelia has mourned for a long time, and is already probably numb to the pain of their death. To further elaborate, I've edited it a bit:
Her hands aren't shaking when she places yesterday's bouquet in front of the captain. They aren't cold, aren't sweating anymore. No more hot tears run down her face, salty drops dying at her lips. She's had a whole day of staring at the pale flowers- a whole day to accept what's happened. Only a gaping hole remains in her chest. They'll be better here, she thinks.

There’s something comfortable about dressing up the stasis chamber with flowers; as if with them the reality will go away.

simple and direct, but it really is obvious that the main character is in mourning. This is probably my favorite sentence lol

There are far fewer flowers for Mauve, but they’re much brighter in colour. Shades of purple, from candytuft’s lilac to the deeper colour of cyclamen and hyacinth. Roughly tied with string. The colour is so painfully obvious against the dull lights of the ship. They’re a signal. A reminder that the two bodies inside won’t wake up with the others on board. Heart breaking and necessary.

I really like this paragraph! The description is vivid enough for me to imagine how the flowers really look. I'd change the last sentence a little though. Instead of “Heart breaking and necessary”, I'd choose to say “Heart-breaking, but nevertheless, necessary”.

Overall, I really liked how you interpreted grief for Cordelia! Keep up the good work <33

go to main post

November 7 Daily
prompt: “good morning world, i fall back asleep filled with melancholy”

I dreaded the moments where I wake up. The times when everything would come to reality. The times when the truth will flood into my mind and fill me with sorrow. I don't want to wake up. I want to sleep, back in my head space, back in my world.

“Sunny? Are you awake? You got knocked out cold…”

I was laying down on the bright green plains, relaxing under the bliss sunny day. It was a perfect time for a picnic.

"Ah? Oh… nothing, Aubrey… I just had a really terrible dream… Like something was looming over me… Must've been my imagination.“
”Okay, then. Mari already gotten us our cookies, if you want to eat them be quick! It finishes very fast!“

With that, Aubrey sped across the field towards a small hill at the side of the park. Kel following slowly behind her, his short legs unable to catch up with her speed.

”Aubrey, wait!“
”Kel, just run faster!“ Aubrey rolled her eyes.
”Now, now both of you… I don't want you two to start arguing again…“ Hero chuckled lazily, laying down on the picnic mat that Mari set up on the hill.

”C'mon, Hero, give them some rest! I made a lot of cookies for everyone, so it's should be enough! Unless someone takes more than enough for themselves.“ Mari said as she set out her steaming, fragrant plate of cookies onto the mat, where everyone had just gathered.

”Hold on, where's Basil?“
”Wait, wasn't he right behind us? Where is he?“
”I think he's probably lost taking his photos or seeing a flower bud in bloom. He'll be back soon I believe."

I just stood there, speechless. But my mind was wondering about, thinking of this person. Basil? Who's that guy? Isn't that the name of a plant or something? Why are my friends calling it a he?

“Sunny? Everything alright?”

As usual, I didn't respond.

“Well, okay then.”
“Basil's back!”

I turned around, and noticed something that filled my eyes with horror.

Basil was a small boy, probably around my height. He held a small camera and wore overalls. There's a flower crown on his head because my sister, Mari, thought us how to make a flower crown, and his was best, so Mari made him put it on. But something was not right. I saw in horror there was something behind him. I wanted to run, I wanted to scream, I wanted to leave that thing behind. But something held me to my place. All of a sudden, Mari was gone.

“Sunny? What's happening?”
“Basil! What happened to you?”
“Mari? Where's she?”

Aubrey, Kel and Hero all asked these questions as something approached them, and swipe them out of existence. Like they were made of flour and the swipe was strong enough to cause wind to blow them away. I could hear their screams in the air, echoing into my ears. But I heard another whisper in my ear, sending chills down my spine. Something was behind me.

“Sunny, remember.”

I woke up again, this time my sheets were filled with my sweat. It's just another dream… But deep down in my heart, I know very well that wasn't a dream. Basil tried to remind me so many times, but I've wallowed myself in my guilt. The guilt of killing my sister. Mari wanted everything for my best, but I pushed her down the stairs when she got too angry with me, because I was scared at how mad she looked. But I didn't know it'd caused her life. Basil witnessed everything, but as a good friend he comforted me and said everything will be okay. He promised he won't tell our other friends until the time is suitable. He took a rope, tied the same noose he did with his flower crown, and made Mari looked like she committed the unthinkable. I couldn't bear to look at what I had done, but when I did. I noticed Basil was also staring at that thing, and I regret doing it.

Something was looking straight at us, the image of the eyes of my sister under the matted hair had burned into my brain. I can never get rid of it, but I can also never get rid of the mistake I made I can never ever forgive myself.

724 words (overshot xD)

Daily from the prompt “Sometimes, all it takes is a whole lotta cat food.” Prompt from @-WildClan-
“How are we gonna do that?”
“Elementary, my dear Michelle. Just follow me.”
Monnio pointed at a tiny passageway. They both crawled in. Suddenly, the adventurers heard a quet, cracking voice:
“Hello, Michelle, Monnio, how's your mission going?”
Monnio smiled. “Cliff! We haven't moved on much since you and me last talked, but that's gonna change very soon. Ready to make it your mission too?”
“Of course!” said another voice, enthusiastic and loud, coloured a bit like grape milkshake.
“Quet, please…” whispered one more voice, sweet and feminine.
“Where are we? Who are those?” Michelle asked, their voice shaking just a teeny tiny bit.
“Didn't you tell them about us?” the second voice sounded disappointed.
“I forgot! We had so much to plan besides this that I forgot!” Monnio said.
Crack! Someone lighted a match and everything became visible. The passageway was filled with creatures: skinny pets, dirty witches, humans with pride flags on their clothes, an adult as tall as a kid…
The first voice belonged to a little copy of Hermione Granger. Or at least that was what it seemed like at first. It quickly shapeshifted into a human with cat ears and a fox tail.
“We are the Moonlit society, we are a family that's barely related, we accept those who aren't accepted. My name is Cliff, I'm a genderless shapeshifter and I decide on rules here.”
The teen in a wolf costume who was holding the match spoke:
“My name is Larry, I'm a human wolf therian and the co-leader of this society. This means I make sure everyone gets what they need. The third next important creature here is Mitten, this blue tabby. If anyone disrespects her, they are not allowed here. If she likes you, we ask you to join.”
The second voice (the one that said “of course!”) continued:
“We have other hidings and members all over the world. I came here from Italy. I was hated since I came out as a pan witch demigirl. But now I have people who would protect me no matter what, and I will protect them. So what do you need our giant, diverse, chaotic, protective army for? We made a truse to never do anything bad without valid reasons, just so you know.”
Monnio started telling everyone the plan, but Michelle interrupted:
“Wait, can I ask Monnio something?”
Everyone nodded.
“How did you get them all on our side?”
Monnio reached out xeir hand to pet Mitten and said:
“Sometimes, all it takes is a whole lotta cat food.”
And it wasn't the last time xe said that…

November 7th for Paranormal (359 words)

Hi, I'm Kloe Goulfson. I'm fifteen years old, and I'm in my school's musical and the FFA team. My top two favorite things to do are read and fish with my little brother, Lukas. I have two cats named Chuey and Wand who can walk on a leash.
I'm also a caretaker of the link dragons, whose main functions in existing are to take mail, news, and sometimes unsuspecting tenth-graders (like myself, long story) between the six planes of existence. There's one caretaker in every plane, and my plane is the Universe. It's our job to care for them and ensure that they're doing they job and everything. If the link dragons are unhappy, that could end really, really badly.
Whenever a dragon is in the Universe (which is getting less and less common these days) I secret them away in a horse box on my best friend's ranch. The box (which is just an old-fashioned name for a barn) is that cheerful orange-reddish color that they always paint barns for some reason, and it's in the middle of the woods. I don't think anyone's been there since the 1800's, which makes it such a good place to hide the magic dragons that all of existence depends on.
Eta is the only other person in the Universe who knows about the link dragons. She helps care for them, because dragons can be a handful. Eta's an amazing artist too; put a pen in her hand and she'll draw anything you want. There are around twenty dragons we've known so far, and she has a binder with a hand-drawn biographical rundown for all of them.
Our most recent link dragon was a six-foot-tall-at-the-shoulder golden boy named Mural. He'd brought us a bag of weirdly-mutated carrots probably intended as negotiation for some other plane (the Universe stays pretty neutral in interplane conflicts, but believe me when I say that other planes fight), and upon being told that we weren't expecting them, he got real surly and insisted on crashing here for the night, which was fine by me. It's probably an unfathomable amount of effort to break the barrier between planes.

Daily 7: (WIP)
“In every single meaning of the word, I love you. But this is wrong," Allie says, placing her hands over mine before gently removing them from her cheeks. She looks at me, tears threatening to spill from her olive eyes, god,how I get lost in them. She tears my attention back to our conversation as she continues, “I just.. I just can't be with someone who's…,” she stops, seemingly trying figure out the best way to express her feelings.
“Who's what,” I ask, but I know the answer even before she utters it, “a girl.” My heart clenches, and the air squeezes from my lungs.
“I- It's wrong,” she stammers, “it goes against everything I've ever believed in,” she says looking at me pleadingly, “please don't hate me.” I stare at her, each word she says a strike to my heart. I'm drowning in the weight of her words and I've forgotten how to swim. “Please, please say something, anything,” Allie begs, reaching for my hand. I flinch away, turning so she doesn't see the tears forming in my eyes.
“That's it,” I finally choke out, "After everything you're just going to throw this- us away?“ ”W-We can still be friends,“ Allie says uncertainly.
”That's how you see us? friends? friends who kiss in empty corridors? friends who hold each other as the other falls asleep?“ I ask her, my voice breaking.
”Please, please don't say that,“ Allie begs, taking a step back, as tears stream silently down my face. ”Those were just… mistakes,“ she says and she winces at my answering glower.
”Mistakes?“ I ask incredulously.
”T-That's not what I meant-“ Allie stutters and I wipe angry tears from my face.
”Oh, but it is,“ I say, slowly backing away from her. ”If this means nothing to you than Im through, through with this and through with you.“ I say, my hand already clenching the doorknob ”Goodbye, love." I say before wrenching open the door leaving the girl thought to be the love of my life.

dw they make up and get married I'm just too lazy to write it

Daily 7
377 words

Prompt: As you walk, you feel an eerie presence behind you


I breathed in unsteadily. My heart pounded inside my chest, a drumbeat growing steadily fast and fast.
Just concentrate. Don’t look behind. Don’t look behind.
I focused my eyes on the glimmering jewel ahead of me. The moment I gave that to Odin, this journey would be over. I would be able to relax and not think constantly about how to survive, not feel burning hot flames licking at my clothes, not feel the scrape of a sword swiping aggressively against my thigh.
I scrambled towards the towering stone pedestal, moving as quickly as I could. However, each step I took seemed slower than the one before, like there was an invisible wind pulling me back. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the next step, hauling my foot heavily onto the cold marble floor beneath me. I reached out my arm, stretching desperately towards the shimmering emerald stone, sunbeams filtering through the windows and bouncing off it in a million directions.

Finally, I placed my hand on the gem, triumph flooding through me. Now I could just go back home and sleep. At last. Sleep!

I could not have been further from the truth.

All at once, the eerie presence I had felt behind me grew infinitely stronger, my legs trembling uncontrollably. I fought the urge to look behind. They’re not there. It’s just your imagination. You need to sleep. Then the feeling became unbearable, and I swivelled around quickly, my eyes darting around. Then I saw it. The slight distortion shimmering in the air, with a little gap widening, the space inside of it a penetrating black. My blood turned to ice.

Suddenly, there was a whoosh and several large shadowy figures emerged from the darkness, covering the distance between me and them. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t focus my eyes on their faces. I huddled up on the floor. There was nothing I could do. They were blocking the only exit I had. I let myself get enveloped in their infinite darkness, and gave into them. The last thing I saw was the emerald rolling away from me, right into one of the monster’s cold, hard grip.

Weekly 1 - Dialogue - 1781 Words

Part 1 - 503 words
Consistent character voices are something I struggle so much with, so this part of the weekly was a real struggle. However, I do hope that I’ve kept Renée and Illariya’s voices as consistent as possible!

“Hey,” Renée said. She was feeling a bit down after having only just gotten her daughter, Ally, to bed that night.

“Hi!” Illariya replied.

“You’re in an energetic mood,” Renée remarked, before noticing the ring on Illariya’s finger.

“Did Christian-“

“Yes. Yes he did,” Illariya grinned.

“When did it happen?” Renée asked. “Was it planned, or spontaneous, or what?”

Illariya laughed. “If I was in charge I would have gone into a shop and bought him a ring, and sat down and proposed to him in the middle of a park.”

Renée smiled. “That sounds like you.” Illariya and Christian’s relationship was an interesting one, to be sure. Illariya loved to work on the fly, something Renée just never got the hang of, but could passably do. Christian was also spontaneous, but he did tend to plan a lot more than Illariya did.

“It does,” Illariya replied. “I’m pretty sure he planned it though,”

“Sounds about right, for an overthinker.” Renée remarked.

“Yes, so we’re planning the wedding now, which… I have no idea when it will be.” Illariya laughed. “Honestly, Christian put me in charge of wedding planning, like he knows I can’t plan.”

“I could help, if you want,” Renée responded. “I have a huge binder at home with everything I did for my wedding planning, and emails, and everything.”

Illariya smiled. “Thank you- thank you! You know I cannot plan to save my life so this is an absolute lifesaver.”

“I’m always happy to help,” Renée said. “Even if it comes at the cost of my sleep.”

Illariya looked at Renée. “Renée! Sleep! For goodness sake, what are you thinking?”

“I… I want to help people, and uh, sometimes… sometimes things happen,” she responded awkwardly. “Although, to be honest, Ally’s two and she still likes to wake up randomly in the middle of the night… sometimes.”

Illariya shook her head. “No way Ally is that annoying.”

“She does get an awful lot of nightmares for a two year old.” Renée sighed. “But she’ll get over it.”

“Speaking of children…” Illariya began, “how is your new foster child?”

“She’s alright,” Renée replied. “She had to be removed from her home, which is never easy, but Rachel was really nice to her and she settled down quite quickly. I haven’t had time to introduce her to anyone besides Ally yet.”

“Honestly, I feel like I’d become a foster family just for the journey. Also because I do like helping others, otherwise I wouldn’t be in this job,” Illariya commented.

“Didn’t you just apply for your Paramedic Science course without actually thinking about it?” Renée asked, hoping she was remembering correctly.

“Yes.”

“I mean, it looked fun,” Illariya supplied. “But I don’t think I know quite how much work it is. Still don’t.”

“You can work on the fly, which is the best quality I think someone in our job could have.” Renée complemented. “I think you’ve helped so many people just because of your impulsivity, and that is what makes you, you.”

Part 2 - 322 Words (77 dialogue)
This is 100% not canon to the wider Sunshine Bay story. No way I am putting Alaina through the trauma of PTSD.

Trigger Warning: Death, Plane Crash

Alaina knelt there, her clothes getting dirty from all the charred grit in the wreckage, having just found a survivor from a horrid plane crash. She didn’t particularly care, getting her uniform dirty was just part of the job.

“Over here!” She called to the fire department workers around her, hoping they’d hear her call for help, before turning her attention to the man lying in the rubble.

“Stay with me, help is here. My name’s Alaina, I’m a paramedic, and I’m gonna get you out- just-“ Alaina said desperately. She would do whatever she had to save this man. There had been too much death at the crash site already, and she was not about to let another life be lost.

“It’s okay- just let me go,” The man rasped, looking at Alaina.

No- no, this couldn’t be happening. Alaina desperately tried to find his hand, something he could hold onto, to prove that she wasn’t a hallucination to him, that she wasn’t going to let him pass away. “This is not happening to you. We’re gonna find a way to get you out, okay?”

The man seemed to accept his inevitable fate. “No… no, it’s too late for that.”

Alaina tried to hold back tears. “Please- the fire department is here, they’re going to help you.” She was getting desperate, she knew.

She finally found the man’s hand, holding it in hers. It was trapped under some charred rubble that Alaina couldn’t identify because she never did aerospace engineering.

“I… I’m okay.” The man replied. “Just tell my family I love them.”

Alaina noticed his eyes start to close. No, no, no!

“Sir!” she called, trying to keep him conscious and talking for as long as possible. “Sir, what’s your name?” She asked.

There was no response, but the light fluttering of his eyes being shut.

Alaina desperately tried to find a pulse, but couldn’t feel one. He was gone.

Part 3 - 438 Words
“Zhiqing!” Mira called, opening the door to their shared mental breakdown space. “We need you out outside.”

Lauren looked up, with a little shock and surprise on your face. “Mira, don’t ever do that to me ever again, you seriously convinced me you were Mama.”

Mira rolled her eyes. “Okay, whatever. I figured I’d find you here. Anyways, Yima’s asking for us out on the floor, so if you could…”

Lauren looked back at her cousin. “Ye-es, but I’d rather stay here- you know I’m supposed to get the offers any minute and…”

Mira shut the door and gently walked over and sat down next to Lauren. “Staring at your emails is not going to help. If you get in, you get in. If you don’t, you don’t.”

Lauren glared at Mira. “You think I’d like to spend the next ten years of my life chained to the family restaurant where I have to deal with all these crazy customers?”

“Well, no, but…” Mira began.

“Then you know how important it is I get these offers?” Lauren shot back.

“You have top grades, Lauren. There’s no way you’re not getting in.” Mira reassured.

Lauren smiled slightly. “Thanks.”

“But to be honest, I do think you’d switch courses within the first year. If you’re just as done with people as you are now.” Mira added

“Yeah. Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking when I made the application last year, and now it’s just- everything is crazy and I’m regretting everything.” Lauren said, visibly beginning to break down. “All I want to do is get away from this mess, and because doctors work long shifts, I figured that I’d be able to skip out on helping.”

“Even though we’ve been paid for this since we were twelve?” Mira asked.

“Yeah, well. Mama compensating us fairly isn’t the same as taxed income,” Lauren replied.

Mira laughed lightly. Just then, Lauren’s phone pinged.

Picking it up, Lauren saw the email. “Dear Lauren Zhiqing Han, we are delighted to offer you a conditional place at King’s College London for Medicine.”

Mira looked at Lauren. “Sooooo… are you going to take it?”

“I don’t know. I-“ Lauren paused as a second email pinged through.

“Dear Lauren, we are delighted to give you a conditional offer of A*AA for University College Sunshine Bay’s Law course.”

“So… which one are you going to take?” Mira asked.

“I don’t know, but I don’t feel like I’m about to have a mental breakdown anymore.” Lauren smiled.

“Okay, well, Yima wants us on the floor. It’s kinda busy and she’s probably wondering where we are.” Mira said.

Part 5 - 518 Words
MARY: Hey! We’ve been waiting for four hours!

(LAUREN, who is helping MIRA prepare a table, hears the shout, and rolls her eyes.)

LAUREN: (under her breath) No, you haven’t. You came in six minutes ago and I told you the wait was twenty minutes.

MIRA: *laughs* Twenty eight.

LAUREN: It’s not funny, Mira!

MIRA: I’m currently winning the bet.

(LAUREN composes herself as she walks up to the two customers - MARY and JOHN.)

LAUREN: What seems to be the problem here?

MARY: We’ve been waiting for a table for SIX HOURS!

JOHN: Mary- maybe you should let me do the talking. You are making a rather large embarrassment of yourself and me.

MARY: John, I don’t care. Do I look like I care?

LAUREN: (Exasperated) As I said to you, when you arrived approximately seven minutes ago, the wait for a table would be twenty minutes. We are trying to get the table cleaned as fast as we can, but for now, please be patient.

JOHN: I understand, and I do apologise for my wife. Please excuse her behaviour.

MARY: (Angrily) My behaviour does NOT need to be excused. We deserve to be served!

JOHN: She did not mean that. Again, my sincerest apologies.

LAUREN: I’ll let you know when we have a table ready. It should be done in around twelve minutes.

JOHN: Thank you. Again, my apologies about my wife’s behaviour.

(LAUREN nods, and walks away back to the table where MIRA is.)

MIRA: Soooo… how did it go?

LAUREN: You know what? I’ve worked on customer service long enough to actually feel sorry for the husband. I honestly don’t know how they’ve remained married, but they have. And to be completely honest, I’d like to kick her out of our restaurant.

MIRA: Hey, you know- Yima won’t tolerate this.

LAUREN: Yeah, but she kinda hates me at the moment because I got conditional offers for all my courses. She thinks I’m “abandoning the family business” or whatever. She thinks I’m going to take over the business one day, when it clearly should be you.

MIRA: I’m adding that to the list.

LAUREN: What are we on now?

MIRA: Five hundred and seventy two.

LAUREN: Wow.

MIRA: Yes, I’ve been counting.

(MIRA checks her watch)

MIRA: Be back in a second, Lauren.

(From the entrance, muffled shouting can be heard.)

JUNE: (Angry but calm) I will not have my employees treated this way. If you come into this restaurant, we expect you to be respectful.

MARY: And I want my table! I want my food!

JUNE: You cannot have everything! You need to be patient. Other people are waiting ahead of you.

JOHN: I do sincerely apologise for Mary’s behaviour, she-

(MIRA returns, with a smile on her face. The shouting in the background from the entrance continues.)

LAUREN: (exhausted) Mira… what did you do?

MIRA: I told her.

(MIRA SMILES)

MIRA: By the way, I’m still winning the bet.

LAUREN: Dang, I forgot about that.

MIRA: I said fourty angry people that Yima has to kick out by year end, you said ten.

Word war - 168 words - Won!

“Rachel!” Rachel heard her mother call. She sighed, putting the pen down on her current piece of homework she was working on.

“Mum!” Rachel shouted back. “I’m working!“

Then she heard the stairs. Oh no.

The next thing she knew, Rachel saw her mother standing outside the door.

“Rachel, please. It’s important.” Her mother said.

“Important enough that we need to discuss it when I’m in the middle of my homework?” Rachel asked. “Please, I’m almost done - just give me five more minutes.”

Her mother shook her head. “Remember when you agreed to us being a foster family?”

Rachel did remember. “Yes, I remember,” she replied.

“Well, Stephanie, the person handling our application, is coming to speak to you about what it means to be a foster sibling.” Her mother said.

“Okay,” Rachel replied. “I’ll be down.”

Rachel walked down the stairs, and into the living room, behind her mother. On the dining table were various bits of unfilled paperwork.

“She should be here any moment now.”

Weekly

Part 1

Sofia gazed through the door longingly. She wished she could be allowed into the Additional Art class. She had been so disappointed when she saw her grades.
She shook her head, trying to wave the thought away. Despite this, tears glimmered in her eyes, and rolled down her cheeks uncontrollably. She sank to the floor, her heart heavy as lead. She closed her eyes gently, trying to focus on a sense of tranquillity, instead of the cold fury that pulsed through her veins.
“It’s OK.” Sofia breathed, her voice cracking with emotion, “It’s OK.”

She pulled out her sketchbook from her sky blue bag, smiling softly at the sight of it. She had decorated the cover herself, streaks of ruby pink and mellow indigo blue forming a beautiful sunset sky. She stroked the cover gently before flipping onto a fresh crisp page. A new beginning for every page, she thought. Sofia reached further into her bag, groping for her new set of pencils from her little brother. Her cold hands closed around them, and again, her emotions calmed a little, the coarse texture of the wood sending a flood of relief into her.
She picked the softest pencil she could, and started drawing. Her pencil danced over the page like magic. The moment her pencil connected with the page, she felt like everything was fine. Truly. She brushed away her tears and tried to smile.

Sofia glanced down at what she had drawn. It was of a girl, huddled in a corner, her head buried in her arms, with long dark hair covering most of her face. She had drawn a single tear visible, and the girl’s bloodshot eyes, filled with pain. Her own lip wobbled, as she realised who she had drawn. Herself.
“No…t-that can’t be what I think of myself!” She whispered.
The words still echoed inside her head though. I’m not good enough. I’m a bad friend. I deserve to die. These words had tortured her endlessly for so long. She had tried so hard to force them out of her mind, and tell herself that she was a good person, but they kept on coming back relentlessly.

“That’s an amazing drawing!”
The familiar voice startled her and she drew the sketchbook close to her chest protectively.
“Oh… hi Lucy.”
She looked up at her best friend reluctantly. There were so many emotions inside of her right now. Lucy had been such a wonderful friend to rely on in the past, and she had always had her back. Lately, though, she had barely talked to Sofia, and didn’t even message her in the half-term.
“Why didn’t you message me in half-term?” Sofia asked bitterly, the words coming out of her mouth before she knew it.
Lucy’s brow furrowed. Hurt glimmered in her eyes. “My dad was in the hospital. I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t really think about you at all.”
Sofia wanted to kick herself for being so mean.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
Lucy grinned. “It’s cool.”
That’s what she loved about Lucy. She was so understanding.
“Oh, and, that Art Department said that there was a mistake on the noticeboard, and you’re in Additional Art!” Lucy exclaimed happily.
“I-I am?” Sofia asked in disbelief.
“Obviously! You’re amazing!”
“I am?”
“Duh!”

Part 2

“Will!” She called excitedly across the shadowy room..
A dark figure looked up, revealing a pale, unfriendly face.
“Oh… Hi Tilda.” He muttered, his eyes staring pointedly at the floor.
“There’s a festival at Bridgenham on Sunday! Do you want to come?” She asked, a smile lighting up her face.
Will sighed heavily.
“Sure, Tilda, I’d love to come to the festival and have you abandon me again!” He spat sarcastically, his voice laced with bitterness.
Tilda frowned. “I didn’t want to, Will.” She told him gently.
“Then why did you do it?” Will yelled, stamping his foot.
Tilda ran.

Part 3

Will stepped through the door, the hinges creaking angrily as scrapes of paint flaked off onto his sandy hair. He ran through into the hallway and approached the stairs, tripping over his own feet in his haste.
“Will?”
His mum’s lilting voice stopped him dead in his tracks.
“Yeah?” He asked quietly.
“Can we have a little chat?”
Will knew that voice. Dangerously sweet. Mum wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“I guess.” He muttered reluctantly.
He turned around slowly and barged his way into the living room and slumped onto one of the ancient leather chairs. He watched amber flames dance in the fireplace as twists of smoke spiralled up the chimney. He absorbed himself in the glowing shapes of the flames, relishing the soft warmth pulsing from them.
“Listen!” His mum shouted furiously.
Will glanced up. Her face softened.
“I’m sorry, Will. But this is important for you. Your school has been worrying about your grades. And they want to move you down a year.”
Will blinked slowly.
“They what?”
“I’m sorry, Will. But it’s for the best.” She murmured, taking a gentle hold of his hand.
Will flinched. “Get off me!”
His face was flushed with embarrassment as he drew his hand away. Suddenly , a sharp pain shot up through his wrist.
“Agh!”
He pulled his hand closed to his chest and gazed in horror at the large ugly lump forming on his hand.
“Oh, you’ll face much worse than that, my son.” His mum breathed in an ominous tone.
“What?”
Will frowned.
“Oh, nothing to worry about!” She said brightly.
Will knew his mum was lying. He could see the too-bright gleam in her eye twinkling at him. He studied her face for a moment. Raven black curls framing a ghostly, secretive face. Pale blue eyes gazing out at him sending a chill down his spine. He looked nothing like her. He had seen pictures of his dad though. The splattering of freckles, the glimmering green eyes, the pale blonde hair. Just like him.

“Why did Dad die?” WIll asked boldly. He had never dared to ask this question, since his mum always started crying whenever he mentioned him.
A hushed silence fell over them for a moment. A tear ran down Mum’s cheek.
“He was… killed. By two Persian knights.”
“Persian? But…”
Mum’s eyes widened and her face paled. “I didn’t say Persian! I said German! They - er - came after him in revenge.”
“But, Mum -”
He was interrupted by two sharp knocks at the door. Before he could open it, Tilda came flouncing in, a cheerful smile plastered on her face.
“I’m heading off to the festival! Want to come?”
“No.”
Tilda’s happy expression dropped, and her eyes were full of disappointment.
“O-Ok!”
She walked out of the room slowly, her dark brown frizz of hair falling in a cloud around her shoulders as her ponytail came undone.


“I hate that girl.” Will moaned quietly.
“You should become better friends eventually.” Mum told him sensibly.
“I’d rather die than become friends with her.”
His mum’s face darkened.
“Don’t say that.” She whispered.
Will rolled his eyes. “Why not?”
She looked up. “I was thinking you could study these maps! They might come in useful one day.”
She moved out of her chair swiftly and slammed the door behind her.
Will looked at the maps, sighing in frustration. They were yellowed with age, holes peppered over the thick coarse paper. The whole map was covered in looping letters and miniature illustrations. One word stood out for him however.
“Why do I need to look at maps for Brazil?”

Part 4

A visit to the bakery (A comedy-ish)

Act 1, Scene 2

Baker 1 (friendly, cheerful): Hi! Welcome to the bakery! What would you like to order?
Customer 1 (deadpan, monotonous): A BLT with no bacon, lettuce or tomato, just ham.
Baker 1 (confused): I’m sorry, I don’t think we do those, sir.
Customer 1 (annoyed): Well, I’m leaving this a rubbish review. (taps on phone) There! A 1 star review. Rubbish, unfriendly, terrible food! Ok!
Baker 2 (Enter Stage right, appears outraged): Now what’s going on here then, Emma? I just saw a 1 star review!
Baker 1 (worried, smiling nervously): Oh, yeah, well this customer asked for a BLT with no bacon, lettuce or tomato and just ham, miss, and I told them that we don’t do those.
Baker 2 (sighs furiously): And why would you do that?
Baker 1 (raises eyebrows): Because we don’t do those.
Baker 2 (quietly, frustrated): What is it with these young bakers?
Customer 1 (angrily): Where’s my BLT with no bacon, lettuce or tomato and just ham?
Customer 2 (steps forwards aggressively, also angrily): And I’ve been waiting here for the past 20 minutes!
Baker 1 (with forced brightness): We’re very sorry for the inconvenience! We will now resume service!
Customer 1 (crosses arms): Where’s my BLT with no bacon, lettuce or tomato and just ham? How many times?
Baker 1 (rolls their eyes): So a ham sandwich.
Customer 1 (stamps foot): No, a BLT with no (bakers joins in, they speak in unison) bacon, lettuce or tomato and just ham!
Baker 1 (yelling) I know! Here’s your BLT with no lettuce or tomato and just ham!
Customer 2 (quietly): Ok then.
Baker 2 (brandishes baguette and whacks Customer 1 on the head with it): Get out of my bakery!

End of Act 1