Writing Competition Entry - 1633 words

The Haircut

Over the summer, I became beautiful. Gone were my neon-green shirts and bright pink tights, replaced with deep earthy greens and warm whites. My skin was blissfully pimple-free, and my hair… oh, my hair! It glistened and gleamed and shone in a unique shade of brown-black.
At my school, the longer a girl’s hair was, the prettier they looked. My hair was shoulder-length, but I knew girls with longer hair. I was going to grow my hair out even more, until I looked like an Indian Rapunzel.
“PRISHA! WE’RE GOING FOR A WALK!”
I groaned and put my comb down, changing into an outfit and trudging downstairs, where Mom waited.
“What took you so long?” Mom scolded.
I rolled my eyes at her and didn't respond as we headed out.
The walk was uneventful—as always—and I felt my throat getting drier and drier. I licked my chapped lips with a frown.
“Mooooom, I want to go to the paaaark.” Ridhu, my younger sister, started whining.
Oh gods no, I thought. There was a fork in the road. The road on the right led back to our house, and the left road led to the park.
“Okay, Ridhu. Let’s go.”
I groaned.
“Mom, I’m thirsty.”
“There are water fountains at the park.”
“But-”
She had already started walking.
I scowled. Mom paid such little attention to me I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a law stating the oldest child was to be neglected.
I stared at the other road, an idea in my head.

I ended up at our house, ringing the brand new doorbell while my mother and sister were at the park. It had been my first time walking through our neighborhood alone, and I was thrilled I hadn’t messed it up.
Dad opened the door.
“Where are Ridhu and Mom?” he asked.
“They’re a bit behind, but they’ll come soon,” I lied.
Technically, I’m not lying, I reassured myself. I never specified how far behind they were.
I headed upstairs to my room.
I haven’t done anything wrong. It’s my mom’s fault for not listening to me.

When my mom came back from the walk, there was tension in the air, so much tension I wondered if she had bought a jar of it and let it loose in our house to scare me. The thought made me giggle, but my laughter faded away after I heard my mom’s enraged voice talking to Dad.
“Prisha, Mom’s calling you!” Dad shouted from downstairs.
I gulped as I climbed down the stairs, my legs shaking. My mom took a step towards me, fiery rage glowing in her eyes.
What followed was a blur of thoughts and images, and I can only recall a few things.
I remember curling up in a ball to shield myself, the cold from the wooden tiles seeping into my back.
I remember Mom yelling something at me in Hindi, something so loud my ears started to ring.
I remember the sting as she struck, over and over again.
Most of all, I remember the deadly calm in her eyes as she suddenly stepped away from me. She grabbed a black stool, part of our unused drum set.
“Sit,” she said, and left.
I obeyed. A small part of me, the curious part, wondered what she was doing.
Silence. I could hear the clock in our kitchen ticking as time passed, could feel dried tears on my cheeks.
I lifted my chin. Although I had spent the last five minutes whimpering on the floor, I felt unstoppable. There was nothing else my mom could do to make me behave, no other way for her to control me.
Of course, my confidence went out the window when she came back.
My heart skipped a beat and suddenly my palms were clammy. I felt myself freeze.
In her hands, I saw a pair of scissors.
I was going to grow my hair out even more, until I looked like an Indian Rapunzel.
“Mom-” I began with a sob.
“Shut up, or I’ll gouge out your eyes,” she snapped.
The metal teeth of the scissors flashed, smiling at me like a predator grins at its prey.
I felt a cold, salty tear drip down my cheek.
Then everything was silent, everything except for the snap-click-swish of the scissors cutting through my hair. It fell around me in clumps of brown-black, like a martyr falling to her death.
At my school, the longer a girl’s hair was, the prettier they looked.

The next day was the worst. I stared at the comb in my closet and tried to convince myself it wasn’t bad.
It was only a few inches, I told myself.
I showered and changed, and looked at myself in the mirror.
I lost it, staring at my dull, shorter-than-chin-length hair. I felt like a dead plant—drained of life.
Tears welled in my eyes, blurring my vision. A broken sob escaped my throat, and suddenly I was gasping for air. I could hear my mom calling me downstairs, telling me to hurry up.
Mom had apologized while tucking me into bed. It was “for the best”, she claimed.
I had fallen asleep with fantasies of shaving her head bald, of hurting her more than she had hurt me.
I wiped the tears away the best I could. I don’t know why I cared.

“Dora the Explorer,” my tablemate sneered.
“Oh. You got a…haircut.” My math teacher’s wrinkled lip curled.
“Prisha! What did you do to your hair?” my best friend asked.
“Haircut,” gasped another friend.
Someone laughed at me.
Another kid snickered as I walked into science class.
I smiled and waved it off. But deep down, a dam had broken in my heart.

I met my best friend in fifth grade, when we had been stuck at the same table. We exchanged a look as our teacher prattled on and on, and something clicked. We started hanging out, judging other people’s clothing choices. She was the only one at school with a sense of fashion, and I was her disciple. She’d rate my outfit with a curl of her lip, or, if I was lucky, nothing. I found myself scrambling to correct myself—anything to be like her.
She wasn’t mean—in fact, she was the nicest girl at school, the kid with straight Es in citizenship. She got flustered easily, and the boys did what they could to take advantage of it. I gave her advice about dealing with annoying boys, and she gave me advice about… well, everything.
Thanks to her, my beauty began to grow and grow. She helped me ditch the neon shirt I always wore, and my hideous magenta jacket. Together we thrived, growing in symbiosis.
Nobody needed to know she left me feeling worse and worse every day.

I sat outside, curled up in a swing-chair. In front of me was a draft for the book I planned to publish. It wasn’t like I would finish writing the book, though. I had re-written every draft, tried to piece it together. Nothing worked.
I thought about my best friend. She wasn’t in any of my classes, and I only saw her after school.
I knew it was a bad thing—I had seen my fair share of best friends crying because they were in separate classes.
Why wasn’t I sad? Why did it feel like the sun had begun to shine again? Why did it feel like the trees were swaying to the song of celebration? Why was the air tinted with the earthy smell of eucalyptus? Why did it feel as if… I didn’t miss her?
I sat thinking about this until my mom called me inside for dinner.

The next day it felt as if everything was a little better. The sun’s rays were brighter. The air was purer. The weight on my shoulders was less heavy. Suddenly, my haircut didn’t feel like such a bad thing.
As I walked into my first class, I noticed… no one cared about me. No one laughed at me for my chin-length hair or the small pimples starting to grow on my forehead. No one mocked me for my clothing choices.
It felt good to be unnoticed.
I started to wonder if I’d been seeing the world through the wrong eyes.

I don’t know when I realized it. Maybe it was when I came to school in my old, neon-colored shirt because my others were in the wash. Maybe it was when I bonded over short hair with another girl. Or maybe it was when the “popular” girl scoffed at me. I don’t know when, but I eventually started to realize… no one cared about how I looked.
Everything isn’t perfect. I still dream of shaving my mother’s head bald now and then, and I still avoid wearing pink. But nothing will ever be perfect, and I’ve learned to accept it.
Every day I learn to be kinder, more compassionate. I’ve learned to stop judging people—everyone has the right to their own life. My best friend still curls her lip at me, but… I’ve learned she isn’t my best friend anymore. I’ve learned about a new way to write my story. I’ve learned to stare at myself in the mirror without flinching. I’ve learned to hold my head high and meet peoples’ gazes until they turn away.
Maybe short hair isn’t that bad, I think as I walk into school. My chin is high. My posture is better than ever. There is a big grin on my face.
Maybe… beauty isn’t found on the outside.
I high-five a friend.
DOOOOO!
I start running to my next class as the bell rings. I am still smiling.
Maybe what’s on the inside is the only thing that counts.

(ignore this, i was testing something)

(ignore this, i was testing something)

Critiquitaire - 227 words

This piece was absolutely amazing! I loved the way you paced all the information and the different ways the reader receives it - from the message chains to journal entries to interviews - nice job! However, there were a few things I noticed. Don’t take me too seriously—I can be overly picky sometimes.

The story starts when Yvonne Warren is being interviewed. In the dialogue, he is called “Warren”. However, in the message chain after, he is called “Yvonne”. I don’t know if that was a writing style thing or intentional, but it did confuse me a little and I had to reread it to understand that they were the same person. Sticking to one name could help the readers understand the story better.

Also, I noticed that the title was about saving the world, while this was about them on the actual mission. If this is an excerpt from something else, it may be a good idea to state that by saying “Excerpt from” and then the title. However, if this is the actual title, it may be a good idea to consider switching it. The title gives me a completely different vibe than the writing—both good vibes, of course.

This was a really good piece of writing—and these are all just suggestions. Feel free to ignore anything you don’t want to include. Good luck with your entry!

Critique for @silverlynx- : Heart of Gold
1376 words original, 381 words critique

Based on Cogheart, written by Peter Bunzl.

Never read this book, so I looked through some reviews and summaries to get a feel. It looks really cool, and that cover art is stunning! Anyway, on to your actual writing.

Be a good mechanical. Follow orders. Do not disobey otherwise you will face the consequences.
These thoughts echoed throughout my mind, my master’s instructions hammered into my cogs, repeating themselves relentlessly to me.
Be a good mechanical. Follow orders. Do not disobey.

Face the consequences
Face the consequences
Face the consequences.

I creaked my way through the dark passage, flakes of rust peeling off from my hinges, coating the floor in a crimson carpet.

“Hurry up, you lazy thing!”
I flinched, my master’s sharp voice startling me out of my thoughts.

This is great! One this is I would consider using another word, like ‘captor’ or ‘boss’ purely because the Robot's stye of speaking means they use the word ‘master’ a lot, meaning the text can feel a little bit repetitive. By replacing the words outside of the text, you can fix this issue without having to completely change the meaning of the text. As well as this you can dive deeper into the character's emotions earlier in the story, so it is clear from the get-go that he does not like him ‘master’.

“Coming, master!” I called, my voice metallic and grinding.
I pushed my way through the soft oak door, bright light flooding into my lenses, making me blink slowly for a moment as I adjusted to it.
“There you are, Robot 8. I’m afraid to say that I will have to remove a few cogs as a punishment for your terrible behaviour earlier today. My needs are more important than yours. I should have hoped you would know that by now!” He shouted harshly, his voice a crescendo of boiling rage.

I feel like the word ‘shouted’ doesn't fit here. By saying ‘shouted harshly’, it's almost like you're saying the same thing twice. Think about it- we associate shouting with danger and violence. There's a rule somewhere (that i've forgotten, lol) that says you should never use an adjective that is implied by the word, like ‘whispered softly’ or ‘ran quickly’ when you can avoid it. In this case i'd recommend removing the harshly, or changing ‘shouted’ to another word. Explained, maybe, or growled.

“Apologies, kind master.” I told him softly, curtseying politely. My voice was laced with malice and bitterness.

This is probably just a personal style thing, but I think ‘My voice was laced with malice and bitterness.’ would have a little bit more impact if it was ‘ ’My voice was laced with barely concealed malice and bitterness.'

He narrowed his eyes.
“Now, I want you to bring in that tea that you made for me an hour ago. Now!” He barked, his eyes bored and unfocused.
I scrambled out of the room, fury surging through me. At least his tea would be cold.
“I knew it was a terrible idea to make a mechanical out of gold. Heart of gold, they say! Heart of an idiot, I say.” He muttered furiously.

My heart pounded with anger. I listened to the gentle whirring of my cogs, the soft grinding as they rubbed against each other. And the endless ticking.
Boom.

Tick.

Boom.

Tick

I love love love this formating!!

I had been working, slaving away, for so, so long. I just felt an itching deep inside me to disobey. Did he think I was going to follow his orders like all the other poor emotionless creatures that he had created? I was better than that. I could think for myself.

This section makes me think of the short story ‘the tell tale heart’ by edgar allen poe! Just the similar feel, but in this story the protagonist is justifiable, which is nice.

I snapped my eyes open, and immediately felt the frustration building up inside me again. I wanted to scream. I want to yell. I want to punch my stupid master in the face. But I knew if I did that he would just take out a few cogs and I would be the perfect little mechanical that he so wanted. I punched my wall, my hands balled up into fists. A small dent appeared. I didn’t care. This man had made me a vile creature from the moment he created me and nothing was going to change that now. I couldn’t control it. But at least I had emotions. I had seen the other mechanicals. Their eyes were dull, their movements robotic, their voices monotonous. At least I could feel anger, and sadness and I could make my own decisions. Sometimes I even felt… joy.

“Robots!”
I snarled and flung myself onto the floor with a metallic bang. I wasn’t going to follow his idiotic orders today.
A hollow knock sounded on the door.
“Come on!” Ordered a whining voice. “I want my breakfast.”
I snarled poisonously. Master had brought up his daughter like a spoiled brat. Her name was Lily. I had seen her skip around the vast lawns, in her pretentious clothes, yelling orders to the mechanicals, like they were slaves. We were slaves. We had no choice.
“I’m… ill.” I responded mutely.
I heard her stamp her foot. “But I want my breakfast! And so does Malkin!” She complained.
I grinded my teeth. “Get used to it!” I shrieked. “I don’t know what it’s like to eat! Half the time I don’t even have control of my own mind! You should stop ordering me around like I don’t have feelings and start having some empathy! For once! And make your own breakfast! You’re 12 for goodness sake. You should know by now.”
I trailed off, panting for breath after the steady stream of words. She stifled a sob.
“Well… you’re not supposed to have feelings!”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have the energy. She huffed crossly.
“Fine. I’ll go to Mrs Rust. At least she knows how to be nice to poor little girls.”

I gazed wistfully out of my window. I wished I could wander the streets and do what I wanted. But that would never be true. Unless I escaped.
The threads of a plan started forming in my mind. I had never thought about escaping. It just seemed so… distant. Like something that was so far away that my mind could barely grapple with the thought. But the moment it entered my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. How it would feel to have that terrible weight lifted off my shoulders. It was like I was in a coma, where no one knew how I was feeling inside, or if there was even anyone inside, and just ignored me.

I looked up and heard muffled voices outside the door.
“It’s still in there.”
“Maybe its cogs are out of place.”
“We need to get it out. So we can repair it.”
I jutted out my bottom lip defiantly.
“I can hear you!” I sang, smirking triumphantly.
Someone fought with the handle viciously, trying to get it to open.
“It’s not going to work!”
My voice was satisfyingly infuriating and annoying.

And then it came over me.
The dizziness,
Enveloping me in its warm grip,
The cold tingle in my head,
The brittle pain in behind my eyes,
Like hammers hacking at my skull,
The pain blinding me.

The far away yells,
The relentless muttering in my head.
Heart of gold.
Heart of an idiot.
Don’t escape.
Or you’ll,
Face the consequences.
The ticking in my head.
The drumming.
Shrill.
Piercing.
Angry.
Boom.

Tick.

Boom.

Tick.
Waves of fatigue washed over me, my eyelids drooping and heavy. Spots clouded my vision. Then everything went black.

This section is formatted almost like a poem!! I lovelove love that!! Just watch your double adjectives, like ‘infuriating and annoying.’

“This is Miss Pentigil. I want everything to be perfect when you serve her. OK?”
Master’s breath was warm in my ear as he whispered to me. I blinked my eyes open groggily.
“We’ve just removed a few cogs. Should help your behaviour.” He breathed.
I sighed inwardly. I tried to speak, but immediately a lump started clogging my throat.
“Of course, sir.”
I hated how easily the words slipped out of my mouth without any control from me. Inside, I could think how I wanted, but I couldn't speak for myself. Maybe this was how the other mechanicals were.
“Miss Pentigil.” Master gushed. “How simply wonderful to meet you! I understand that you’re interested in buying this robot?”
She put on a disgusted mask, but behind it I could see the mocking laughter in her eyes as she looked me up and down.

“I cannot talk business until I have had tea!”She exclaimed, putting a hand to her heart.
Wow. Really convincing.
“I’ll get some tea, Miss Pentigil.”
I felt my legs carrying me to the kitchen, my hands carefully picking up the kettle, placing miniature cakes on a winding gold-plated tea stand. I desperately wanted to run. To climb through the window frames. To leave this living nightmare behind. It was that thought that kept my going. The one that made me defy my master.
Just as I was about to bring the tea to Miss Pentigil and Master, I stopped. Of my own will. A smile curved on my metal lips. I flung the tray to the floor with a crash. There was a throbbing ache in my head, a screeching of cogs, but I endured the searing pain. This was my chance to escape.
I clambered onto the window frame and glanced over my shoulder once. I swung my fist at the panes, and shards of glass shattered onto the floor. I pulled myself through the hole.
A feeling tingled through me, which I had never felt before. Freedom.
I slithered down the few metres of brick. Finally.

You're just missing a space here, make sure to fix that up. ‘tea!”She’

And then I realised it.

I was surrounded by electrical fences.

How was I ever going to escape?

Overall this was a great story, I love he suspense and the way you utilize your reader's emotions- making them wonder if the robot is going to escape, or be stuck there forever. Your formatting is really good, in regard to your sentence structures, which make it so you can really hear the protagonist's voice coming through. Thanks for letting me read, and good luck for the writing comp!

Heart of Gold
1378 words

Based on Cogheart, written by Peter Bunzl!

Be a good mechanical. Follow orders. Do not disobey otherwise you will face the consequences.
These thoughts echoed throughout my mind, my master’s instructions hammered into my cogs, repeating themselves relentlessly to me.
Be a good mechanical. Follow orders. Do not disobey.
Face the consequences
Face the consequences
Face the consequences.

I creaked my way through the dark passage, flakes of rust peeling off from my hinges, coating the floor in a crimson carpet.

“Hurry up, you lazy thing!”
I flinched, my captor’s sharp voice startling me out of my thoughts.
“Coming, master!” I called, my voice metallic and grinding.
I pushed my way through the soft oak door, bright light flooding into my lenses, making me blink slowly for a moment as I adjusted to it.
“There you are, Robot 8. I’m afraid to say that I will have to remove a few cogs as a punishment for your terrible behaviour earlier today. My needs are more important than yours. I should have hoped you would know that by now!” He growled harshly, his voice a crescendo of boiling rage.
“Apologies, kind master.” I told him softly, curtseying politely. My voice was laced with barely concealed malice and bitterness.
He narrowed his eyes.
“Now, I want you to bring in that tea that you made for me an hour ago. Now!” He barked, his eyes bored and unfocused.
I scrambled out of the room, fury surging through me. At least his tea would be cold.
“I knew it was a terrible idea to make a mechanical out of gold. Heart of gold, they say! Heart of an idiot, I say.” He muttered furiously.

My heart pounded with anger. I listened to the gentle whirring of my cogs, the soft grinding as they rubbed against each other. And the endless ticking.
Boom.

Tick.

Boom.

Tick.

I had been working, slaving away, for so, so long. I just felt an itching deep inside me to disobey. Did he think I was going to follow his orders like all the other poor emotionless creatures that he had created? I was better than that. I could think for myself.

I snapped my eyes open, and immediately felt the frustration building up inside me again. I wanted to scream. I want to yell. I want to punch my stupid master in the face. But I knew if I did that he would just take out a few cogs and I would be the perfect little mechanical that he so wanted. I punched my wall, my hands balled up into fists. A small dent appeared. I didn’t care. This man had made me a vile creature from the moment he created me and nothing was going to change that now. I couldn’t control it. But at least I had emotions. I had seen the other mechanicals. Their eyes were dull, their movements robotic, their voices monotonous. At least I could feel anger, and sadness and I could make my own decisions. Sometimes I even felt… joy.

“Robots!”
I flung myself onto the floor with a metallic bang. I wasn’t going to follow his idiotic orders today.
A hollow knock sounded on the door.
“Come on!” Ordered a whining voice. “I want my breakfast.”
I snarled poisonously. Master had brought up his daughter like a spoiled brat. Her name was Lily. I had seen her skip around the vast lawns, in her pretentious clothes, yelling orders to the mechanicals, like they were slaves. We were slaves. We had no choice.
“I’m… ill.” I responded mutely.
I heard her stamp her foot. “But I want my breakfast! And so does Malkin!” She complained.
I gritted my teeth. “Get used to it!” I shrieked. “I don’t know what it’s like to eat! Half the time I don’t even have control of my own mind! You should stop ordering me around like I don’t have feelings and start having some empathy! For once! And make your own breakfast! You’re 12 for goodness sake. You should know by now…”
I trailed off, panting for breath after the steady stream of words. She stifled a sob.
“Well… you’re not supposed to have feelings!”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have the energy. She huffed crossly.
“Fine. I’ll go to Mrs Rust. At least she knows how to be nice to poor little girls.”

I gazed wistfully out of my window. I wished I could wander the streets and do what I wanted. But that would never be true. Unless I escaped.
The threads of a plan started forming in my mind. I had never thought about escaping. It just seemed so… distant. Like something that was so far away that my mind could barely grapple with the thought. But the moment it entered my mind, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. How it would feel to have that terrible weight lifted off my shoulders. It was like I was in a waking coma, where no one knew how I was feeling inside, or if there was even anyone inside, and just ignored me.

I looked up and heard muffled voices outside the door.
“It’s still in there.”
“Maybe its cogs are out of place.”
“We need to get it out. So we can repair it.”
I jutted out my bottom lip defiantly.
“I can hear you!” I sang, smirking triumphantly.
Someone fought with the handle viciously, trying to get it to open.
“It’s not going to work!”
My voice was satisfyingly infuriating.

And then it came over me.
The dizziness,
Enveloping me in its warm grip,
The cold tingle in my head,
The brittle pain in behind my eyes,
Like hammers hacking at my skull,
The pain blinding me.

The far away yells,
The relentless muttering in my head.
Heart of gold.
Heart of an idiot.
Don’t escape.
Or you’ll,
Face the consequences.
The ticking in my head.
The drumming.
Shrill.
Piercing.
Angry.
Boom.

Tick.

Boom.

Tick.

Waves of fatigue washed over me, my eyelids drooping and heavy. Spots clouded my vision. Then everything went black.

“This is Miss Pentigil. I want everything to be perfect when you serve her. OK?”
Master’s breath was warm in my ear as he whispered to me. I blinked my eyes open groggily.
“We’ve just removed a few cogs. Should help your behaviour.” He breathed.
I sighed inwardly. I tried to speak, but immediately a lump started clogging my throat.
“Of course, sir.”
I hated how easily the words slipped out of my mouth without any control from me. Inside, I could think how I wanted, but I couldn't speak for myself. Maybe this was how the other mechanicals were.
“Miss Pentigil.” Master gushed. “How simply wonderful to meet you! I understand that you’re interested in buying this robot?”
She put on a disgusted mask, but behind it I could see the mocking laughter in her eyes as she looked me up and down.

“I cannot talk business until I have had tea!” She exclaimed, putting a hand to her heart.
Wow. Really convincing.
“I’ll get some tea, Miss Pentigil.”
I felt my legs carrying me to the kitchen, my hands carefully picking up the kettle, placing miniature cakes on a winding gold-plated tea stand. I desperately wanted to run. To climb through the window frames. To leave this living nightmare behind. It was that thought that kept my going. The one that made me defy my master.
Just as I was about to bring the tea to Miss Pentigil and Master, I stopped. Of my own will. A smile curved on my metal lips. I flung the tray to the floor with a crash. There was a throbbing ache in my head, a screeching of cogs as I disobeyed the instructions that Master had planted in my mind, but I endured the searing pain. This was my chance to escape.
I clambered onto the window frame and glanced over my shoulder once. I swung my fist at the panes, and shards of glass shattered onto the floor. I pulled myself through the hole.
A feeling tingled through me, which I had never felt before. Freedom.
I slithered down the few metres of brick. Finally.

And then I realised it.

I was surrounded by electrical fences.

How was I ever going to escape?

Vulpecula was her name. I hate to be cliche, but her eyes sparkled in the sun. There was no one alive quite like her.
One day she was no longer. Rejoined with the stars, maybe. I reported her missing to the police, but nothing ever came of their search.
Every year I went back to the forest where we had met.
“You are as stunning as the sun,” I had told her. She tilted her head in cold response, pausing only to ever reach down and pick up the small fox that followed in her wake.
Each day we would meet in the forest, her always afraid. She would glance around in frantics, as if looking for something she didn’t want to see. Sometimes we would talk. Never something unimportant, but always something grave and relevant. I spoke of my own disownment. She spoke of the people she ran from.
The day she disappeared was a day of sadness, for I knew that once she was gone there would be no return. Sometimes I would try to walk through the same trees that once protected us, only to see them stained in her blood.
The final straw was my proof. The fox accompanied me now, and on one particularly nasty afternoon, a star fell through the trees to be with me. Her blood was still white, her eyes still diamonds, as she came all this way to be with me.
I could not let her leave without me again. I couldn’t be left behind again, no, never again.
The fox had dark eyes as he joined me atop the star’s highest peak. And together, we began to fly through the night.
It would kill me to breathe. This night was my fate. But of course, there was no better way to die than with such a person. Life and death, not even stars, could hope to separate us.

I woke up screaming, surrounded by white. But she was not beside me in this hell.
I was alone, enthralled by a vision I made up to ease away my own insanity.

I opened the letter with shaking hands.
Good Morning Ms. Karthik,
Thank you for your patient wait. We have reviewed your application, and you have been accepted into Islean!
Please be ready with the attached list of required items and be at the Alia field for pickup in tomorrow at 6:00 in the morning sharp.
Sincerely,
Headmistress Flora Rose
“Amma, Amma! I got in! I got in!” I was shouting as I raced down the stairs into the kitchen.
“Calm down, what do you mean you got in?”
“I got into Islean!”
“I knew Pranav would go… he was bound too. But I'm not sure if you should go Priyam.”
“But-”
“That's it, I've made my decision. You're not going.”
I went upstairs, the letter forgotten on the chair near both my parents. I wanted to go, I needed to, I knew this from the pit of my core.
149 words


Swahili city states

PRIYAM: (gently closes door and starts packing either way.) *under breath* If they don't want me to go, I'm going to go to prove them wrong!
(In a bit, she is sleepy and shoves the suitcase under the bed and goes to sleep)

MEANWHILE DOWNSTAIRS

AMMA: I don't want to stop her from her dreams, but you know what happened when PRANAV joined Elementia…
APPA: (holding the letter and speaking in a reluctant tone) I know.. (Glances up at where PRIYAM's room is) I'll go talk to her.
AMMA: Alright.
APPA: (enters her room and immediately sees the half packed suitcase under the bed. A small smile crosses his face.)
*Thinks- I knew it! She was going to leave either way.* (He sighs before carefully repacking PRIYAM's suitcase with everything necessary on the list.)

NEXT MORNING

APPA: Priyam, beti, wake up.
PRIYAM: Why are you waking me up (yawns) so early?
APPA: I know how much this means to you. Pranav didn't want to go, but we made him. And here you are, wanting to go, but us not letting you. I packed your suitcase and it's in the car. Let's go.
PRIYAM: Wait actually!?
APPA: Shh… Amma doesn't know. I'll manage with her later, just hurry!
PRIYAM: (hugs APPA) Thank you!

(APPA and PRIYAM get in the car and drive to the field. The drive there is silent, and once they reach, PRIYAM gets down.)

APPA: Good luck, Pri.
(PRIYAM freezes for a split second.)
PRIYAM: You too.
(APPA leaves and PRIYAM waits in the field with many other students.)
264 words
Inuit-
As I stood there, I watched as a thousands of Pegasi and Unicorns appeared out of thin air, along with a stout woman.
“Welcome, welcome, students. This is the school of Islean, those who with the magical connection to Unicorns and Pegasi. Quick note, if you do not get a pet, then you will be sent home.”
“Ma'am?” a small voice came from the other side of the field.
“Yes?”
“How come only some people have it?”
She sighs,
“A long time ago, we all had it, but then, another tribe arrived on our lands. This tribe had no magic, and welcomed the idea of it easily. Initially we tried to only talk with them, but eventually, people decided to do more. Now us two tribes are one large one, but not everyone has magic.”
“Why not just accept everyone?”
“We don't have to do that. We have a scroll, with the names of all the people of magic and we just invite them when they come of age. If they don't pass the magic entrance test, that means they were not cut out for it, and their magic is stripped.”
“What if you don't invite someone who does have magic?”
“People with magic, have a little part of the mind which sends out an alarm until it is opened or closed off completely. When the alarm goes out, the scroll gets the name. Now that we got distracted, stay in this field and try to find the unicorn that matches you!”

I wandered off, watching as people start matching up. In the corner, there was a ugly looking Pegasi with a chipped horn.
As I neared, it tried to shrink into itself more and more. I held out a hand gently, to not scare it. It slowly came over and I saw it. It was hurt bad. The wings looked like it was attacked, and it needed a wash and brush. There was a stream nearby and I gently led her over.
It was as if I dipped my hands in a bucket of ice. Clearly it didn't like it either, but we both stayed there, as I worked my way through it. My medicine knowledge is limited, but when it spread out its wings, I knew immediately something was wrong. I didn't know if this was mine or not, but I took it to the headmistress.
“Headmistress Flora? I found-”
“Luna?! You poor thing. I see you found the perfect person to bond with.”
As she spoke, a silver light surrounded the two of us, and her color turned to a dark blue with silver stars. Her eyes were chocolate and her wings got a silver dusting. I watched as my clothes changed to match her, moonstone necklace matching both of us.
464 words

Minoan-
By the time we reached the school, we were all exhausted. When I entered, there was this strict looking man who handed me a small bag.
“Everything you need.”
I opened it, and it had a map, and a few other papers. It showed the stables and the dorms for us. While I walked over to the stables, I found where the classes would be and some of the other things. As I entered the stables, there was already a spot for Luna.
“See you soon, ok?”
Luna seemed to smile and I entered the dorm rooms. I looked in the bag, inside was a key.
Dark dorm, door 4.
There were 8 hallways, the dark one labelled. Entering, there were many doors. Finding door 4, I inserted the key and twisted. It popped open with a click and I closed the door behind me. On the bed was all my stuff. I took the rest of the stuff from inside the little bag and spilt it on the desk. As I went through the papers, there was a strange blue envelope. I opened it, and it had a strange text it.

⁛⁙⁘⁖⁞․⁚⁝·:⁘⁖.⁘⁖:⁘⁖⁘⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁛⁙⁘⁖⁞․⁚⁝·:⁘⁖.⁘⁖:⁘⁖⁘⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁛⁙⁘⁖⁞․⁚⁝·:⁘⁖.⁘⁖:⁘⁖⁘⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁛⁙⁘⁖⁞․⁚⁝·:⁘⁖.⁘⁖:⁘⁖⁘⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁛⁙⁘⁖⁞․⁚⁝·:⁘⁖.⁘⁖:⁘⁖⁘⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁛⁙⁘⁖⁞․⁚⁝·:⁘⁖.⁘⁖:⁘⁖⁘⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁛⁙⁘⁖⁞․⁚⁝·:⁘⁖.⁘⁖:⁘⁖⁘⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖⁘⁞․⁖

It was all dots for pages. I rolled my eyes and closed it, but there was another note.

…I do hope that the previous pages of information will stay out of all hands until time comes. If you are reading this one, then do not try to read this. Especially you, Priyam.
I narrowed my eyes. Something I wasn't supposed to read? Then why was it here? What was I not supposed to know? And how did they know me?

273 words
Askum-
I swallowed, this was going to be hard.
It's been a few weeks since I had found the envelope, and I had been trying to figure out what the text was.
I enter the library.
“Excuse me?”
“Yes?”
“In my historic language class, we were all given some text and we have to figure out what language and translate it. This is what I was given,” I had copied down part of it, not wanting to show the original. The librarian took it and inspected it.
“I- I can't give you this.”
The smile slid off my face.
“Why?”
“It's in the restricted section, and you don't have teach permission. And I know the teacher. Firstly, first-years don't have that class, second, you're bad at lying.”
“Fine.. but then I can't get you position of official.”
I knew that would bait him.
“You can get me position of official?”
I pulled out a slip of paper. The official official slip.
“Where'd you get this?”
I didn't tell him I had asked my parents to write me one for him.
“It was being held from you. Now a deal? You give me the book, and I give you the slip.”
He snapped his fingers and a few books appeared,
“Check for the one you need. I can't check it out to you, because then they'll see, but give it back whenever you're done with the assignment.”
“Deal,” I flipped through the books, and when I glanced at it, I knew that it was the one. I took the book and gave him the slip.
264 words

Mesopotamia-
That night, I spent hours painstakingly figuring out the note.

Family holds dear
The secret magic of the new tribe
Magic that turns the soul
from light to dark
K!lled at birth
only two live.
Butterflies, butterflies
that sing a song of d@ath.
Cry once more,
the magic awakens
The chipped horn
destroys it all.
the new prophecy
will not fail

I froze. What? Was Luna going to k/ll me?
This wouldn't work. I had to know more. I slowly closed the book, sliding it under my bed, so that no one else who would enter would find it. Then I left the dorm, going up the stairs to the library.
“What are you doing out at this hour?” Hallway patrol. Of course.
“Nothing!” I ran back to my room, waiting for some time before I made my way to the library again. This time, I was careful about avoiding hallway patrol. I knew the library wouldn't be open, but I had to check. When I got there, the lights were still on. I stepped into the room, going to the back where the book of prophecies was. I refuse to d!e, especially from my new horse. There, one dusty book lay. Opening it, I turned to the last page. That was sure to have the most recent prophecy.
223 words

Greece-

“Priyam…”
I gasped,
“Pranav? How?”
“The better question is why? Why are you here?”
“I-”
“Doesn't matter. What you're doing is wrong. You can't stay! I found this when I got here. Listen carefully.”
I closed the book and looked at the ghostly form of my brother.
“This place is evil. Initially, its normal, but as time goes on, your horse thing will suck the life out of you before leaving in the de@d of night. The teachers are all de@d, going along with this because it is the only thing that they can do.”
“What happens if they go against it?”
“Then… Something bad will happen. I wasn't able to figure it out before it happened to me. I couldn't leave in time, but you still can!”
“How do you know?”
“Because.. It's late enough that hallway patrols are no longer happening, and we're under the only window that let's you escape the school grounds.”
“I- I don't know…”
“Pri… Do you want to end up in the same way I did?”
“it'll be nicer than this!”
“No… It won't, trust me.”
“Can you come?”
“No. I am stuck on school grounds as a spirit unless you free us all, or find another way to connect me to you.”
Determined, I stood up,
“Follow me.”
217 words

China-

“Where are we going?”
“We're going to use some magic.”
“But- the magic here will corrupt you!”
“Exactly.”
He sighed, and I watched as he faded out of sight, mumbling,
“It's too late… Corrupted.”
I ran through the halls until I reached the magic room. I tried to open the door, and it opened to reveal a large room, empty. Inside were vials filled with strange substances. On the table was the instruction book.
I flipped through the pages. Spirit binding! There it is. I collected the items, creating the spell.
“Pranav. Bind my soul to his for all eternity…”
I watched as he materialized,
“We can leave now.”
“Not corrupted?”
“Nope. This is the only way for us both to leave campus.”
“I can feel the darkness in you, but you've built some type of protection against it.”
“Oh.”
We ran out of the school and through the grounds. He hesitated before passing the official thing.
“Come on Pranav!”
He sucked in a breath and flew over the mark. When nothing happened, a smile crossed his face.
“Alright, where to now?”
He gestured to the forest,
“Through there, follow me.”
“To the end of the world.”
I ran behind him.
202 words

Aztecs-
As we walked through the forest, the darkness never faded. I sighed, I had no idea how long we had been here.
“Pri, you still holding up?”
“Yeah, yeah, it's not like you, no tiredness, food requirements or anything. All hail the ghost man!”
“Uh… was that sarcasm?”
“No really?”
“Ok fine, we can take a break.”
I sank down on a rock, and a grinding sound filled the air.
“What's that sound?” I asked covering my ears in pain.
“How am I supposed to do. It probably has something to do with the rock you're sitting on.”
I got up, but not in time, as a hole opened and I fell through, screaming the whole way.
I got up, but it was too dark to see anything.
Slowly feeling my way around, I found a bowl. Picking it up, a flash of memories resurfaced.

“You are the one. The one who will destroy the chain!”

“Priyam! Wake up!”

“Remember, walk away from everyone and everything and your power will resurface.”
“The power to destroy it all. That is your job as the chosen magic.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You must leave them all…”
“What?!”

I jerked up.
201 words

Rome-

I stumbled out of the cave.
“Pri… Are you ok?”
“I've got to- I-”
“Calm down, what did you find there?”
“I have to turn back from everyone to unlock my destroying power and do something with that!”
“Pri, I heard this before too. You can't listen to them. It's a trick. That's what made me like this!”
I closed my eyes, taking in a breath,
“Alright then. I have an idea.”
I closed my eyes, trying to pull the power that they were talking about.
I felt the dark twist through me, and I stopped,
“Pranav, I'm scared.”
He floated over,
“That's fair, but if you want to, then stop.”
“No, I won't.”
I close my eyes again, channeling it all, and blast it out.
“Pri! The dark thing, it's no longer in you!”
I watch as it all comes out and swirls around for a minute then zips in a direction. I chase after it, Pranav behind me.
I watched as it stopped at the school. It was waiting for my command.
“DESTORY IT!”
It swirled around the school, and in a few seconds, there was nothing there. It continued flying and I followed it to the field we started in.
It paused.
“This too!”
It was gone in seconds, and the magical thing vanished.
218 words

Navajo-

“Pri… You freed us.”
I watched as Pranav faded away.
“PRANAV!”
“Pri… don't worry about me. Just get home…”
“No!”
He smiled sadly,
“You're going home.”
It all went black.
When I awoke again, I was back home, but it wasn't a home I was used to.
I heard the sound of him… Again.
I didn't know how Pranav was home, but that didn't matter anymore.
I flew down the stairs, and at the bottom stopped short. Something wasn't right. Wasn't he supposed to be at school?
“Pranav? Aren't you supposed to be at school?”
“What do you mean?”
“Islean!”
“You mean the school that got destroyed years ago?”
“What?”
“Yeah… Are you ok?”
“Yup, yup.”
I ran back up the stairs. I had to fix this. The school couldn't have been erased, then magic would have ceased to exist. I had to bring it back. But, that meant Pranav would…
Then someone opened the door.
“Pri. You don't have to go back and fix it.”
“What-”
“We're the only people who remember the school. Everyone else has forgotten. And because you destroyed the school, there's no magic, so there's no way to change it.”
“What!?”
“Pri, It's ok…”
I frowned, something still wasn't right.
206 words

Mayan-

That night, I lay in bed, unsure of everything. I don't know how long I lay there, before sleep took over.
I was in a black void.
“Hello? Is anyone here?”
There was my mom, and my dad and Pranav. But, they looked a lot younger. That when I saw it. She was pregn@nt. With me. The void morphed into our house and someone knocked on the door. To be honest, it looked like a memory.
Appa went and opened the door. It was grandmother. She d1ed soon after I was born.
Pranav and Appa immediately looked at each other and he said,
“We'll be out, call me when we can come back.”
Amma nodded.
As soon as they left, Grandmother took a set of crystals and put them in a circle around Amma, who revealed that she wasn't already pregn@nt.
I froze.
They started chanting in a strange unknown language. As they finished, the same shadow appeared, and turned into a child form and went into her. It immediately had the effect of her becoming pregn@nt to the same extent. I was nothing but a shadow, summoned by the two of them. As I watched, they cleared up all evidence, Amma called the two of them to come home and life continued the exact same.
Everything melted away, and I was back in the void. I woke up.
230 words

Egypt-

I was a nothing. And my mom knows this. I'm just a shadow. Did this mean that everything that I had ever done mean nothing? Was I worth anything? What did this mean for me and my future? Was destroying the school a good choice?

I walked down the stairs.
“Amma? I have a question.”
She sighed,
“I knew this day would come. Follow me.”
She opened a secret door, and we went down another set of stairs.
There were many little boxes of shadows thrashing and swirling.
“This is our family, Priyam.”
“We're just shadows?”
“No… We are the darkness of the world.”
“WHAT??!”
“No.. Not in that way. We are shadows, yes, but in a different way. These are the shadows that help destroy things that must be destroyed.”
“So the end of the world will be our fault.”
“No, we only do it when instructed to by the ancestors.”
I turned around and went up the stairs. This was wrong on so many levels. I didn't know what to do. What was i supposed to do now? I couldn't just go back and change this could I?
“Wait… If I have the shadow powers, then technically, I could travel back and stop myself from doing it, but that might create a loop-”
“Priyam.”
217 words
Australia-

“Priyam.”
I looked up. I had create some type of shadow thing.
“Pranav?”
He smiled sadly.
“Pri, you're bringing the end of the world.”
“What? No! I got to stop!” I tried to bring the shadows back down into myself, with no success.
“Priyam,” it was another voice.
“Who are you?”
“I created the world this time, and it's alright. Bring the end of the world. Let loose all your powers and anger and confusion. Let it destroy the world.”
I screamed, the darkness was clawing its way up.
Then it went black.


The world came to an end, the darkness covering the globe. In the aftermath, there was one person left.
They raised their hands, and plants grew once more. The world was returning slowly but surely.

They saw Priyam lying there They sent tendrils of gold magic which swirled around her. She opened her eyes,
“What just-”
“I'm bringing the world back.”
“Oh.”
“You're also a ghost.”
“What?!”
“Have fun!”
Priyam then faded out of sight. They continued to bring things back slowly. Animals, and other things. Water, light, sand, soil, rocks. Mountains towering into the sky.
They smiled before whispering,
“Life returns.”
They faded out of sight once more.
203 words

https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1104053064/ Its the pic i just cant paste it in

3358 words in total

11/29 - 427 words
“Daydreamer, you’re falling behind”

“Look at those stars! Where did they come from?”
Fablechime looked at the kit, a smile blooming on their face, “let me tell you a story.”

“Long ago there was a cat, big and strong. He was a tunneler for his clan, and one of the most dedicated ones at that. But he was not happy. Well, I suppose that wasn’t entirely the truth. He was happy he got to serve the clan he cared so much for, but tunneling had never been his passion. He wanted to fight, to hunt, to patrol the desert like he saw his peers do. But as a child he’d been scrawny, so the leader had deemed him unfit for the harsh climate and had decided to make him a tunneler. ‘Only the most cunning cats become tunnelers’, his mother had told him, but he could still see the disappointment in her eyes. It took him a long, long time to realize that the disappointment she’d shown was not for his role, no, but for him. Because he had been denied his dream.
This cat was, unfortunately, the loyal type. He didn’t question the instructions he was given. Not a rebellious bone he possessed. But one day, when he’d finished his work, he decided to go for a walk. He often went on a stroll to clear his thoughts. That was how he justified the time he spent dreaming about the life he wanted to lead. That dream was at the forefront of his mind when he came upon a rabbit’s burrow.
Maybe I can get some food for my clan, his brain supplied.
Maybe I can finally see what it would be like to be a warrior, his heart responded.
So he crouched by the entrance of the burrow, positioning himself to run. Then he yowled, voice echoing in the tunnel. He dashed towards the other side of the warren, relishing the feeling of the wind blowing through his fur. He pounced on the rabbit exiting from the opening he had ran to. There! He’d done it! He’d caught his first piece of prey! That was what he had thought until he felt a kick to the throat. He let out a choked sound, falling to the floor. The last thing he saw was the rabbit hurrying away, his dream escaping him.”
“Fablechime, that’s sad.”
“I haven’t finished, kiddo. I haven’t told you yet how the stars got there.” They looked up to the sky, beginning to speak again.
“The Moon saw this all unfold and was proud of the mortal for his courage. He had tried to achieve his dream, and that was an admirable thing. So he took the cat’s soul, painting it across the night sky into stars. The stars of his soul formed Orion, the hunter. That way he could live his dream for all eternity.”

You looked up at those lights in the sky and saw them as no one had ever seen them before. Whereas I had only ever noticed a background, you believed in each one as its own little ball of fire, dancing through the midnight darkness in patterns yet unwritten. Your beautiful eyes, open wide to the night, dreamed up visions beyond my wildest reckoning. You drew maps of everything I knew and then sought what lay beyond. The world sang to you as if you were the only one who could hear its harmonies.
You’re always reaching for the next great mystery; you’re always reaching for the stars. I know you need to venture over the horizon and chase them down. It’s who you are.
It isn’t up to me to pin your wings, no, there isn’t a force in the world that can stop you if you choose to open them wide to the sky and follow the only trail your heart knows to take. It took me a while, but I understand it now, that sometimes a goodbye is the only way to set someone free.
You won’t be here tomorrow, but your dreams will linger in every mind you’ve touched. They will still be here when I’m long gone.
I just wanted to let you know, before you leave on the journey of your lifetime, that you brought the stars to existence with your wondering gaze. Even when wide awake, you’re dreaming, seeing a world that no one else can witness. But I’ve learned to see the reflection in your eyes. I never thought anything could change me so much again, but there you are, and here I am, looking up to the sky in awe as if none of what happened before even matters now.
When you go, I’ll still look for you in the night, in the patterns of the stars. Maybe I’ll even name one after you, Wander. That way, you’ll be in my sight no matter how far away you fly, and I can remember you and your brilliant dreams. Safe travels, my son. Thank you for everything.

Elenor ran down the steps, coughing from the smoke. Her little feet slapped against the steps as she ran out of the house. She held her teddy bear close to her chest and looked back at the house as more smoke streamed out of the windows. She heard something burst, and she looked down to see her bear gone, turned to ash. She shrieked, bending down and trying to scoop the ashes back into the shape of her bear, her beloved bear. She barely noticed the flames that licked at her fingers, leaving them unharmed. Her ears didn’t register anything, although there were sounds of sirens. She started to mumble, “Mama’s bear- Mama’s bear- Mama’s going to be so angry-” She didn’t hear a first responder approach her, but she felt their touch. She looked up to see them smiling down at her. “Hello there friend. Are you alright?”

Decapitalize after the dashes! Also, the dialogue for the first respondent should have a comma or two. Try “Hello there, friend. Are you alright?”

Elenor shook her head, pointing at the bear over and over again, not making a sound. Tears streamed down her face, cleaning lines of ash off of her cheeks. The first responder frowned, “Oh, I’m so sorry. What happened?” Elenor was not in the mood to respond, starting to sob. She curled up on the ground, not registering anything. No ambulance, no fire, no sirens. All was silence, and she was okay with that.

Love this part! No notes, great job! Maybe include like a couple dots between this and the next paragraph to show the time skip, but 100% up to you!

Elenor sat cross-legged on the ground, breathing in deeply. She had her eyes closed, muttering to herself. She sighed, trying to control the flame that burned within her. She felt it grow and shrink as she tried to control it. She was its master, not the other way around.

I recommend varying the sentence lengths for this part! All five of these sentences are pretty similar in length making it feel less interesting to read. You could try “Elenor sat cross-legged on the ground. Her eyes were closed, as she muttered to herself before sighing. She was trying–-and failing–to control the flame that burned within her as it grew and shrunk. She was supposed to be its master, yet it seemed to be the other way around.” These are the EXACT same word count!

“Hey!”
Elenor looked up, eyes burning with small bits of flame. Her adoptive sister looked at her and grimaced, “Oh! Sorry- Didn’t know you were meditating-”

The second sentence here is weird to me. Maybe try “Elenor looked up, her eyes ablaze” or “Elenor glanced up, her eyes burning with tiny fires.” Don’t be afraid to exaggerate small/big! Oh also, make sure to get rid of the run on-sentence! Only put dialogue after speech-related information like “said” or “exclaimed.” “Looked at her and grimaced” isn’t related to speech, so it needs a period between it and the dialogue. Also just some minor grammar stuff but it should be two dashes and there shouldn’t be a space at the end, and you also don’t need to capitalize the letter after the dash <3

Elenor shrugged, “It’s fine.”
“Can I talk to you?”
Elenor nodded, and Ileene came and sat next to her, imitating the position of her legs. “Soooo- Has it been giving you trouble again?”

This is a bit of personal preference, but maybe introduce the sister before this sentence. The first time I read this, I was thinking “who is Ileene?” Maybe try in the previous paragraph something like “her adoptive sister, Ileene,..”

Elenor nodded sadly. “Yeah… Mom told you to come and check on me, didn’t she-”
Ileene nodded, “Yeah- She was a little worried about you.”

Another run on sentence, “nodded” isn’t related to speech so make sure to have a period before the dialogue <3 or you could put the dialogue at the start of the sentence, and end it with “Ileene said after nodding.”

“Well, it’s nice that she was worried.” Elenor coughed, rubbing her stomach a bit as the flame rose up again.
“Are you sure that you’re okay?”
Elenor shrugged, “When have I ever been okay?”

Should be a period after shrugged <3

“Fair point, unfortunately-” Ileene huffed, “Just be careful, okay?”

“Fair point, unfortunately, just be careful okay?” is a run on sentence, as you can see by removing the dialogue tag. Add a period after “huffed.”

Elenor nodded, “I will, promise.”

Period after nodded

After she had calmed down further, Elenor walked into her house with her sister. It was big, and Elenor hated traversing the huge thing.

Maybe change “huge” or just get rid of it. “It was big, and Elenor hated traversing the thing” makes it less repetitive

She walked into the living room and spotted something on the coffee table. She made a face, walking over to it. It was a newspaper, one that was slightly wrinkled and burnt at the corners. She read the headline, curious. She made a face, registering what it said.

You used the phrase “She made a face” twice, remove one of them or it feels like rereading the same sentence twice. Maybe try this: “She walked into the living, spotting something on the coffee table. She made a face as she approached what she realized to be a newspaper–one tinged at the corners, as if it had been burned. Curious, she read the headline. Her skin went pale as she realized what it said.”

This is longer, has more sentence variety, and less repetition!

“Young girl sets fire to family home, kills entire family.” She looked at the picture, clearly recognizing herself. However, in the adjacent family photo, she saw herself standing with strangers…

Love this ending! And this may be preference, but change the order of the last two sentences to give it more of a punch, since she clearly doesn’t know what's happening.

“Young girl sets fire to family home, killing everyone inside.”
She looked at the pictures carefully, examining the photo of the girl. Surrounded by strangers in the picture, she realized she was looking at herself.”

All in all, I love this piece! My biggest recommendation is to fix the run on sentences and add a bit more emotion throughout the story! As for continuing this, there are a couple ways you could go about that. 1, maybe have Ileene (or another family member) enter the room and see her with the paper. They could be shocked and/or upset that she saw that. 2, Elenor could think that she’s about to kill her whole family and she runs away because she doesn’t want it to happen. Maybe this is for the best, maybe not. Or maybe a third option, she could be very intrigued about this and start investigating—if she has a phone or camera, she could take pictures of the newspaper to figure out what's going on.

WIP Critique for Clev
11/28-29/2024
233 words

The day Rachel Bergeron met Death, she was studying for her chemistry test.

Very cool opening line, definitely had me intrigued!

The day had been fine – normal, even. Rachel rose at 6:17am precisely, got out of bed, and went out the door in five minutes; just on time.

I feel like this paragraph does a pretty good snapshot of Rachel’s personality. Maybe add in a few more details? Getting out the door in five minutes is an incredible feat ToT So maybe you can expand on how she got herself prepared beforehand or smth? I think that it’ll help us to understand her character more and you can flesh some stuff out.

Eating lunch was nice. She sat with Destiny, like she did every day: speaking, smiling, and scrolling.

When I first read this, the name Destiny caught my attention and I wondered if she was going to have a role like her name, rather than just a friend. Maybe these characters are from some of your other stories, I don’t know. But if not, perhaps another name? Because with the story starting off with setting up Rachel’s meeting with Death, I assumed that Destiny would have something to do with that simply because of her name. Not too big of a deal, but I thought her name was some foreshadowing, when it isn’t.

“When are results being released?”

I didn’t fully understand what was happening in this interaction, though it does hint at something the characters know that the readers don’t but I think elaboration of what results are being released would just add a small, but impactful clarity. It’s vague, but too vague that the conversation seems like it could be used in many contexts, so I’m not really being given new information.

Driver’s Seat
(fanfic entry, collab w/ @criminal-intent)

“I can’t believe he would do this to me!” Lloyd fumed, stomping into the living room to share his exacerbation with the world.

His siblings glanced up at him, quizzical. 8-bit music and sound effects emanated from the TV. Jay, Cole, and Kai lowered their controllers.

“Who would do what to you?” Nya asked, leaning forward over her sketchbook.

“My uncle. He hates me.” Lloyd flopped backwards onto a bean bag, stewing in his anger.

“Ooh-kay,” Jay said when Lloyd didn’t elaborate. Jay glanced back at the TV, where his character had died. “Oh, come on!”

Kai and Cole let out similar exclamations as Lloyd’s distraction led them to die as well.

“I don’t think you’re treating this situation with the gravity it deserves,” Lloyd huffed, struggling to sit up in the slouchy bean bag.

“To be fair, you haven’t exactly explained the ‘situation,’” Zane commented.

“Yeah, you’ve gotta give us something to work with, buddy.” Cole faced Lloyd over the back of the couch.

“Did Sensei volunteer you to give another speech?” Nya guessed.

“It’s not a speech,” Lloyd said, staring at the TV, where Zane’s lone avatar fought a boss.

It didn’t keep him from feeling his siblings’ attentive gazes.

Burying his head in his hands, Lloyd mumbled the unfortunate truth through his fingers. “He’s making me take Driver’s Ed.”

—

At breakfast the following morning, Lloyd was devastated to discover that only Pixal agreed he didn’t need a license.

Cole, Nya, and Zane claimed he should learn like everyone else. How could they take Uncle Wu’s side? Lloyd had done just fine the past two years without his uncle or a driver’s license!

Jay and Kai said since they’d taken Driver’s Ed, Lloyd should have to as well. Lloyd had pointed out that they’d both gotten their licenses before becoming world-saving, dragon-riding, prophesied ninja.

“The prophecy didn’t say anything about not needing a driver’s license,” Kai said, waving a fork in Lloyd’s direction.

“Are they gonna believe I’m sixteen? I don’t even know if I’m sixteen!” Magically turning into a teenager did not make ages easy to calculate.

His siblings shared a glance. Even if it was the only thing so far to make them pause, the way Lloyd’s stomach sank was not worth it. So he changed the topic. “Can Uncle Wu even drive? I’ve never seen him drive!”

—

The classroom was almost as loud as most of the battles Lloyd had fought in—and at least twice as scary.

Teenagers chattered noisily, voices overlapping chaotically before the room slowly fell silent at his arrival.

He’d worn a nondescript green hoodie, but now he regretted choosing that color. Everyone’s gazes magnetized to him, and Lloyd suddenly felt hot. He took the hood off; everyone had seen him already anyways.

Fighting the urge to slouch—he wasn’t cowed by a bunch of kids—Lloyd made his way to an empty seat. The noise resumed, a steady hiss of whispers: “The Green Ninja,” “Lloyd Garmadon,” “Why is he in our class?” “How old is he?” “His eyes really are that green!”

Lloyd was ready to grab his phone and beg Kai to pick him up. Instead he took the workbook from his backpack and set it on his desk, pretending he hadn’t noticed the discussion around him.

Lloyd stifled a sigh. He really hadn’t missed school. The thought of ten more weeks was unbearable.

Discreetly taking his phone out, Lloyd opened the ninja’s group chat. Save me, he sent as the teacher began talking and children continued to shoot him curious glances.

Ninja never quit! Nya replied with a smiling emoji that looked distinctly smug.

—

Lloyd quickly learned that some of his siblings were better to drive with than others.

Kai, for example, was incredibly picky. He was critical of every aspect of Lloyd’s driving, pointing out whenever he went so much as one kilometer over the speed limit. Which might have been bearable if Kai hadn’t been a massive hypocrite—Lloyd knew his brother was far from a perfect driver.

After that first drive, Lloyd collapsed face-first on the sofa and declared that he never wanted Kai to drive with him ever again.

When it was Zane’s turn, he cited traffic regulations Lloyd hadn’t even heard of.

Pixal was insane. She must know the traffic laws, being connected to the internet and all, but she didn’t care. It kind of freaked him out.

Jay’s voice always warbled when giving directions, and he wouldn’t stop. “Pedestrian! Pedestrian! Lloyd, you should check your rearview mirror more! Careful, there’s someone merging up ahead.”

“Am I supposed to be looking behind or in front of me?!”

In the end, his only options were Cole and Nya. Cole’s guidance was timely and calm, and Nya didn’t really care how Lloyd drove, but not in the stress-inducing way of Pixal’s lawlessness. Come to think of it, Lloyd wasn’t sure why he hadn’t started with them.

—

Lloyd stared at the ceiling, arms spread across his bedsheets, fighting the strange urge to cry.

His eyes burned, his nose hurt, and he was lost as to why. Nya had led him through a mock-test in preparation for tomorrow, and it hadn’t gone poorly. He’d messed up parallel parking, but who didn’t? He didn’t expect perfect marks. That wasn’t the problem. At least, he didn’t think it was. But he didn’t know what the problem was, so Lloyd couldn’t be sure.

It wasn’t like learning to drive was a real issue. Sure, it was annoying and time consuming—but that was all. Plus, he was almost done. Ten weeks had gone by quicker than he’d expected. He’d missed a few video game tournaments, but Cole had foregone half of those, too, helping Lloyd with his practice hours, so he couldn’t complain.

And the kids in class had stopped pestering him as much. (The fact that he’d caved and given each of them an autograph helped.)

Funny. Lloyd always thought of his fellow students as ‘kids’. Technically, many of them were older than him. But at the same time, he was nothing like them. And he shouldn’t need to take this stupid class.

Anger bubbled up within him, and the tears finally fell. Lloyd curled up on himself, hands clenched into fists.

He pressed those fists against his eyes like it would shove the anger back inside.

—

The drive to school the next day was almost as stressful as having Jay in the car.

His eyes stung as he clung to the wheel, and Lloyd couldn’t get his driving instructor’s voice out of his head. Don’t drive when emotional. How many points would that cost him on the test, he wondered.

“Lloyd? You okay?” Nya asked.

He stared straight ahead—he was driving, after all. “Fine.”

“You’re gonna do fine.”

“I know,” Lloyd said. He did.

He parked in front of the school. “Why is he making me do this?” Lloyd asked, not really registering the words until they were out of his mouth. He turned the key towards him in a jerky motion. The engine whirred to a halt, filling the car with silence. He stared at the keys in his hand.

“He just wants you to be safe.”

Yeah. That had never mattered before, had it?

Nya sighed. “I think a part of him thinks we should do this the normal way, for once.”

“But I’m not normal. Neither is he! He’s the son of the freaking creator of Ninjago. He’s ancient. He disappeared into the First Realm, he’s been gone for two years—things haven’t exactly been normal with him in a long time!” Lloyd finally looked his sister’s way, still clutching the useless steering wheel, the keys digging into his palm.

Nya’s mouth twisted downwards. “You’re right.”

Lloyd stared at her. He was?

“You have every right to be frustrated. But that’s between you and Wu. Don’t pretend this is actually about driving.”

Lloyd sighed, releasing his death grip on the steering wheel.

“Now, I know you can go in there and ace that test.” Grinning, she punched his shoulder lightly. “Go show them what the Green Ninja can do, ’kay?”

Smiling back, Lloyd opened the door, but Nya grabbed his arm before he could step out, plucking the keys out of his hand. “And don’t act like you’re not going to have a longer talk about this later, green bean, ’cause you will.”

Oh, joy.

—

Apparently, Uncle Wu could drive because he was the one to pick Lloyd up after his test.

Reluctantly, Lloyd got in the passenger’s seat. Part of him yearned to hop in the back, but that probably would have been worse.

“What did she tell you?” Lloyd asked as they drove off.

“Hm? Who?”

”Stop playing dumb, Uncle.”

“Well, she told me you thought I couldn’t drive,” Wu said.

Lloyd slouched in his seat, not caring about the hundreds of injuries an incorrectly placed seatbelt could cause in the event of a crash. (And Zane had been sure to explain all of them in detail during his driving lessons.)

“You know, Lloyd, if you had asked, I could have arranged a private tutor,” Wu said softly. He had been more soft lately, Lloyd thought. Maybe that’s why Lloyd had never exactly told his uncle—well, anything.

“It’s fine,” Lloyd said, meaning, That would have been worse.

And maybe Wu knew him better than Lloyd had thought, because this was about being normal, wasn’t it?

“I’m sorry,” Lloyd blurted out.

“Sorry? For what?” A frown deepened the creases by Wu’s eyes.

“I’ve just been so angry at you. I . . . ” Lloyd’s face grew hot with the admission. Suddenly, he was glad they were in the car because his uncle couldn’t turn to face him. “It’s stupid, really.”

“You are not stupid, Lloyd.”

“But I’ve been so mad about taking Driver’s Ed.” It was so ridiculous, he had to laugh. He sobered quickly, though, watching the city lights pass by. “Well, I guess it wasn’t about that.”

Lloyd waited for his uncle to ask, needed him to.

Finally, Wu did. “What is it about, then, Lloyd?”

Lloyd took a deep, shuddering breath. He’d thought of a million ways he could explain, but none seemed good enough now. “It’s weird to be back to the way things were,” Lloyd said at last, still staring out the window. “I think I got so used to being on my own, and it’s not that I wish I still was—I don’t, not at all.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re not normal, and I guess this whole thing feels like you’re trying to pretend we are.”

Again, the gentleness of Wu’s response startled Lloyd. “I understand, nephew.”

Lloyd blinked. “That’s . . . it?”

Wu laughed, a sound like a barely-remembered dream. “We cannot change the family, or destiny, we were born into. And you have a heavier one to accept than most.”

It was not news to Lloyd. But—the idea that Wu understood—? He stared, dumbfounded, at his uncle.

Wu continued, “It’s okay to not want to go back. I think I have not been adapting as well as I could. That is a skill you have always excelled at.” Though it was difficult to tell under the beard, Lloyd could hear the smile in his uncle’s voice. And . . . were those tears in his eyes?

Lloyd cleared his throat, brushing at his own wet eyes. “You know, it’s not a good idea to drive when you’re emotional.”

The laughter was an emotional catharsis, one Wu seemed to need almost as much as Lloyd.

—

At first, what with the heart-to-heart, Lloyd hadn’t realized they weren’t driving home. Instead, Wu took them to Dareth’s boba shop. Lloyd stepped out of the car, spotting the rest of the ninja waving wildly at him through the window.

“I believe Dareth has promised unlimited toppings for the Green Ninja’s victory boba,” Wu said, eyes twinkling.

Lloyd grinned. “Oh, so you’re assuming I passed?”

The startled look on his uncle’s face was everything.

{ 1,990 words }
{ thanks so much to ave, bea, rose who kindly critiqued this for us! <3 }

For @/violent-measures
251 words excluding quotes

Okay! I really don’t have much to critique! This is an excellent piece. It made me a little sad and made me chuckle at times as well, so go you! I have watched one Ninjago movie, so I wasn’t completely out of the loop.

One of the few things I would critique is…

“I can’t believe he would do this to me!” Lloyd fumed, stomping into the living room to share his exacerbation with the world.

While exacerbation is a great word, it is very long, especially compared to all the other words in that sentence and the following paragraphs. “Use ten-dollar-words sparingly” is some advice I try to give out. Using big, long words is fine! Great, actually. It can just be hard to read sometimes. Replacing exacerbation with something like “frustration” or “annoyance” might make the sentence flow better, and make it easier on the eyes.

Ninja never quit! Nya replied with a smiling emoji that looked distinctly smug.

I think you meant ninjas, plural? Unless that’s a joke or reference within the fandom. I have only watched one of the movies, and therefore know about 4 things about Ninjago. Apologies.

Anger bubbled up within him, and the tears finally fell. Lloyd curled up on himself, hands clenched into fists.

He pressed those fists against his eyes like it would shove the anger back inside.

This!! I love this. It’s a very beautiful (and sad) moment. It’s relatable (for me, at the very least) and it makes me feel sad for Lloyd. It flows quite nicely and is a lovely description of how frustrated and distressed Lloyd is right now.

Instead, Wu took them to Dareth’s boba place.

One last thing. I’m not sure if this is the canon name for the, well, place. But place is a very vague noun. Maybe you could use a stronger one? Like “café” or “tavern” for example.

But, yeah, that’s everything! It’s a very good piece! I wish you luck in the writing comp!

critique for yanna! 316 words

yannasunset wrote:

I hear everything in nothing
when silence falls, it is deafening
there are more possibilities in the unknown
than there are in what is

With fluid strokes, I began to write. It was more difficult than I had intended.

First of all, I love that you sprinkled poetry throughout your piece! It ties the pieces of your story together nicely.

Who invented writing, anyway? Who had first invented the notion of scribbling little black lines onto the dead skin of felled trees? Who had first thought of condensing thoughts—endless, precious thoughts that flowed more bountifully than oceans—into words, the unreliable labels that they are?

In this paragraph, I noticed some of what I call “word clutter” - unnecessary or redundant words that clutter up your writing. Here, it's the word “had” in the second and third sentence. I believe the third sentence would also flow better if you changed the tense of “flowed” to “flowing” to match the tense of the rest of the sentence.
Otherwise, it's looking great! Your writing is smooth and poetic, a style I admire a lot.

Over the years, I had become accustomed to it. I had even grown to love doing so. The world asks for concrete sentences, for grammatical clauses, for rock-hard logic. My innermost being longed for the liberty of pure thought, for the ability to bare my soul through tales of whimsy and wonder. I was provided a compromise, and I snatched it willingly.

Gorgeous writing here - it really captures the soul of writing! As a writer, I've felt this way before, and I appreciate your ability to put the feeling into words.

you hear it:
a cacophony, contained within milliseconds
melodies fighting for your attention
there is no black and white
only rioting hues

Stars. I saw stars. Not on the paper. In my mind's eye, I glimpsed them: twinkling pinpricks suspended against the black gossamer of evening. Vision could be quite the deceiver; those who came to rely on it only saw what lay before them, not what might have been, or what might be. They saw the world for how it appeared. Not for what it was.

The writing gets a little choppy here, so I'd combine a couple of the first sentences to let it flow better.
I'm seriously in love with your writing, especially here - the descriptions are spot on <3

Seeing isn't always believing.

I grasp at the separate threads
a tapestry is what the world wants to see
free of loose ends, conventional, secure
unfortunately, I am
everything but

I wrote on, long into the night, working by candlelight. I allowed myself to daydream, drifting off further with each sentence I wrote, till my fingers became automated rather than conduits between my mind and the paper.

I'm not sure if it was intentional, but “night” and “candlelight” rhyme, and unless you're doing it on purpose it's generally a good idea to correct accidental rhymes because it can jerk your reader out of the rhythm they've come to expect from your writing.

I no longer knew what I was writing.

The unknown could be delightful in that way.

(But isn't logic expected of us? No, we cannot let the chaos of our thoughts spill into existence. We must “conform”, isn't that right?)

do sometimes wish
that you could just disappear
into the world that you have crafted?

I do, at times.

At least in this world of mine, I can understand, wholly and completely, why people do the things they do.

The closest I can get to making this world a reality is by scrawling it onto paper, for all the good it does. It's never quite the same once it is there and tangible. Never truly as fantastical.

seconds pass
and you plummet
where has the light gone?

I can write by candlelight, by starlight, by sunlight.

I can never write in true darkness.

a hummingbird's wings
cannot match the blistering pace
of the thoughts, the words
that blister through my mindscape
in disarray, in confusion
everything glimpsed, nothing seen

Setting my pen down felt like a betrayal. I had come so far; I had filled pages upon pages of words, allowing the readers at least a tiny glimpse into my world. The world that I escape to. The world that is real only in my imagination.

I wanted to keep going. I had dived headfirst down the rabbit hole. Never mind that my eyelids were drooping, that my wrist ached when I lifted it once again.

there is eternity within the hourglass
minutes flick by, but they are forever
I balance precariously
waiting, watching
hoping, dreaming

How long had it been? Seconds? Minutes? Hours?

I did not bother to check the clock. (What was the point?)

time is my foe
I can never seem to understand it
nor can it understand me
yet the clock ticks on

Before you know it, the night has fallen. Before you know it, the sun rises again. It is all a cycle, one that must be repeated. There's no delaying the inevitable.

Even I admitted that.

At some point, I would have to stop.

this world is a strange place
is everything truly black and white?
we have all crossed our own lines
sometime or another

Why?

This question crossed my mind several times while I was writing. Many more times in day-to-day life.

There's always another question. Unfortunately, there aren't always enough answers.

I try to hope
to watch the horizon
for the nascent rays to come
for the wisdom that arrives
with the new dawn
with the new day
Was there such thing as a chaos-filled calm?

Some feel content with their minds at ease, but something is always whirling at the back, something keeping me from mental silence. And I enjoy it that way. Silence lets you listen, it's true. But for me, silence is deafening.

I set down my pen. I stood, my chair scraping against the wooden floors.

Dawn was coming swiftly.

There would always be another sunrise.

Okay, time to sum it all up in a paragraph that's far too short to do justice to my emotions but it's late and I'm tired :')
This piece was stunningly beautiful, and it was an absolute treat to critique it - your prose is deep and insightful, pulling aside the curtain of reality to take a peep at the heart of what we do. The words you bolded really pulled out the elements of your narrative, and overall this was a fantastic piece. I hope to see more of your writing in the future
also sorry for taking so long lol thanksgiving killed and buried my motivation

Requirements:
Essay Prompt:
Write a two-page essay addressing the following:
Introduction (1 paragraph):
Briefly introduce the story and main character (the hero).
Provide a clear thesis statement that explains how the hero's journey is reflected in the story and why it is significant.
Body Paragraphs (3-4 paragraphs):
The Call to Adventure: Describe the moment in the story where the hero is called to leave their ordinary world. What motivates them to go on this journey? Why is this moment important?
Challenges and Transformation: Discuss the trials and challenges the hero faces along the way. How do these experiences change or transform the hero? Provide specific examples from the text.
Return and Resolution: Analyze the hero’s return to their ordinary world. How has the hero changed, and what have they learned? How does their journey impact others in the story?
Conclusion (1 paragraph):
Summarize your main points and restate your thesis in a new way.
Reflect on the broader significance of the hero’s journey in this story. Why do you think the hero’s journey continues to be a powerful storytelling structure? What can modern readers learn from it?

Include textual evidence (direct quotes) to support your analysis, properly citing the text.
Ensure your writing is clear, organized, and free from grammar or punctuation errors. Essential Skills Writing Standards:
Develop ideas fully and clearly: Provide detailed analysis with relevant evidence and examples from the text.
Organize and structure your writing logically: Use well-structured paragraphs with clear topic sentences and transitions between ideas.
Use conventions of standard English: Follow correct grammar, punctuation, spelling, and sentence structure.
Revise and edit to improve your writing: Before submitting, proofread your work carefully and make necessary revisions.
This essay will allow you to demonstrate critical thinking and writing skills while exploring the universal theme of the Hero’s Journey in literature.






The Dark Matter Trilogy follows Shay, the story's protagonist and a teenage girl who lives with her mother in Killin, Scotland, when she comes across a poster of a missing child that she is shocked to recognize. After calling the number on the paper, she connects with Kai, the older brother of the missing girl, Callie. Callie, now in the form of a spirit after being burned alive, leaves the mysterious institute in which she found herself and begins to journey around Scotland, unable to be seen by people and unaware that she will be transferring the virus (called the Aberdeen Flu) everywhere she goes. The virus reaches everywhere Callie goes, eventually quarantining every town where she has gone. When the virus inevitably reaches Shay’s hometown and Shay herself becomes infected, she must think quickly to avoid being taken by police. She and her mother take to the woods, sharing fond memories before her mother becomes infected and dies whilst caring for Shay. This story reflects the Hero’s path archetype in the strength of the characters, the selflessness of their sacrifices with their hope of saving people, the challenges they endure to protect each other, and their consistent will to continue despite those they have lost and the hardships they have struggled through. The hero’s journey is especially significant in this work because of the unique plot that Shay’s story follows.

Shay’s call to adventure is her choice to leave her hometown and its current chaos and escape from the virus, the people that she loved who are now dead, and the people who may find out she is a rare survivor of the virus—-now called the Aberdeen Flu. She leaves with Kai and Callie, heading for Kai’s mother, a doctor who is immune to the flu. Shay takes great bravery in her decision to leave behind the home she has known and the people she cares about, leaving only with the goal of saving people—-even at the cost of her own life.

During her journey to save the people Shay cares about and protect her loved ones from further harm, she faces many challenges of all types. Her first challenge of many is to overcome the grief of losing her mother, while already on the run from the government who wants her dead. After narrowly escaping death multiple times, she tries to help the sick people in her hometown—only to watch most of the people she grew up with die. Shay’s health takes a dark turn as she grasps the situation she’s in—her only friend, Kai (who is immune to the virus) fails to understand the changes she went through, and she watches people she personally cared about sacrifice their lives for her. During the second book, one of her closest friends is gunned down whilst trying to escape the police that avidly hunt the survivors of the virus. Shay is manipulated, lied too, has her kindness and empathy taken advantage of, and loses everything she could possibly have across these three books. When Callie convinces Shay that she is the one transferring the Aberdeen Flu across Scotland, as opposed to Callie herself, Shay feels immense guilt and turns herself in immediately. She breaks off her relationship with Kai, fearing she will continue to kill people she cares about. Later, after being convinced by cult leader, Alexander, to join him on his island. There, he tries to kill Shay after guilting and manipulating her into doing exhausting labour for him while she tries to cure the people of the island. It is revealed that Alexander is the one who killed Callie, with the goal of spreading this disease.

Shay is never able to return to the life that she originally had. Despite this, she is still able to find peace in the fact that she accomplished the goal she set out to. Her life becomes more normal as she lives with Kai’s mother and sister and the book ends with them celebrating Callie’s 11th birthday together.

In conclusion, Shay’s story follows her immense bravery and strength across multiple places and relationships as she navigates a world where she has lost everything and everyone she cares about. She has a deep sense of empathy and caring for everyone she meets and continues to live well and with kindness despite her grave losses and the cruelty inflicted upon her. Her views inspire and fodder a deep sense of caring for all the characters she interacts with in all three books. The Hero’s Path archetype is not a perfect replica of this story, with the absence of a mentor figure in Shay’s life—-but despite this, the message of heroism and the main points of Shay’s journey are hard to deny the effects of. Shay is a good person and a great hero, who accomplishes her goals with sensibility and compassion. Readers will find her story inspiring and powerful as she works around obstacles, tragedy, relationships, and more while protecting people she cares about and becomes the best person—-and hero—-that she can be.

(ignore please, i was testing something)

Rising Sparks and the Falling Tide
swc writing competition entry november 2024
1993 words
CW: blood


removed due to privacy reasons </33

note (not included in word count)
this is a prequel to my novel ehehe <3
also, a HUGE thank you to crim, vi, nova, and sandy for their very helpful critique <3333

THE START (which I didn't realise existed until halfway through)
Djalu was fine. His brother was going to be okay. He was only going out of their Country, out of… He was only going to meet some people they’d never heard the likes of before, potentially get killed by them. At the very least, he was going to a place that had no soul, by everyone’s reports. But he would come back alive. He always did. Why wouldn’t he come back now, safe and sound, telling stories of how well he reasoned with the people, how they came to their senses so easily at the sound of his enticing words? He would be fine.
Djalu was fine.

AUSTRALIA
Merriman felt the change immediately.
They had warned him of this land – a land with no soul, no connections to anything and anyone. It was nobody’s home; the creatures existed, but they weren’t truly alive. He felt that even his ancient magic would not do anything here. But he had Umbarra, flapping around him in the form of a black duck. His only company in these haunting lands.
A lone shout echoed from somewhere in front of him, obscured by spindly bush, scaring him almost as much as the absence of anything connecting life to this land. But it gave him hope, too. There were connections here. And he could do what he was sent here for.
Then he saw the shout’s bearer.
She was short, with skin whiter than anything he’d seen before. Her clothes didn’t look natural, and her eyes bored into him with a look he didn’t know. Umbarra saw her, then looked back at Merriman, a frenzied look in his eyes, flapping like he was drowning.
Merriman ran.
Umbarra zipped along beside him, the only soul in a soulless land. The woman was shouting something from far away, the soil crumbling beneath his feet, grass brushing up to his thighs. It all might as well be dead, for all the soul it had. There was a smidgeon of bush up there. His heartbeat and his feet were all he heard now.
His heartbeat and his feet.
Merriman stopped beside a gnarled tree for breath, looking back at the white people. Umbarra was just a black streak now, content with the world. Were the people friends, after the way he’d run? Had she even assumed they were friends in the first place? The way she’d looked at him, it made his skin feel like ants were all over it. He looked to Umbarra for comfort. It was over now.
With that came a crushing thought.
He had failed.
-
CHINA
Merriman’s heart was still beating like he was running.
Being under the gnarled tree didn’t ease his comfort as he thought it might have, only made him feel more discomfort for the emptiness of the place. The white people were off like he hadn’t known anyone to be, and that look in her eyes was one that thought it knew everything, that thought it could be taught nothing. It was dangerous, and not only for the person. She surely didn’t look to her ancestors to guide her.
Did she look to anyone? What a hollow world she lived in, if she looked to the sky and couldn’t see anyone there. He had to talk to her. If not to show her the good in this world, at least because it was his task. He couldn’t fail them.
Her blue eyes bored into his mind. She scared him. Maybe that was the point.
Could Merriman actually step up to her, tell her of a people who lived in peace and invite her to join them? He was half convinced she would brazenly ignore honour and kill them the moment she saw them. She half looked like she would do that to him. But he couldn’t fail them.
He couldn’t sacrifice his own safety – his own life – either.
There was no other reasonable option. He left.
INUIT
He was in his country again. Merriman cherished the thought, his feet walking the old paths.
What would he do when he got back? He froze. He hadn’t thought that far. Would he just tell the truth, that Umbarra had found danger, and he hadn’t bothered to even go back? He hadn’t bothered. That didn’t sit well with him. He’d just left, not even bothering to turn back and talk to her like they’d told him to do. He hadn’t bothered to follow what they told him.
A scream broke Merriman’s focus.
Tightening his hold on his spear, Merriman scanned the area for threats. Umbarra wasn’t frantic, just the black streak… pointing away from the river. He moved with Umbarra to investigate.
A wallaby lay on the ground, a line of blood seeping from its chest.
Could he save it? He ripped some leaves off an emu bush and walked over to the river, dunking his empty coolamon in the water. If he washed the wallaby with the leaves ground in water, the cut would be cleaned. He poured it on the cut, rubbing it in gently. The wallaby didn’t move.
Was it dead? Merriman rubbed more on, breathing a sigh of relief as it made a sound.
ROME
He almost didn’t notice Umbarra’s panic until it was too late.
-
Merriman hid in the foliage, watching the white people talk.
Umbarra translated for him as they spoke, huddled in a circle, tones hushed as they trampled on the bush. Among them was the woman Merriman had seen the first time.
“They’re uncivilised. Their clothes are made from the raw plants. Their best weapon is literally a spear,” the woman said.
“Yes, but we must still talk to them. Perhaps then they would be more willing-”
“They could kill us on sight. We must be careful and prepared.”
That was his people they were talking about. Maybe he could stop them attacking. Umbarra encased some leaves in black, and his form blurred whenever he translated.
“If they don’t surrender?” one of them said.
“We kill them.”
A shiver ran down Merriman’s spine. I will not fail now.
“Could I stop them?” he whispered to Umbarra.
Umbarra’s form changed to a spear, then a talking face. He could talk to them, and they would see that his people were peaceful. Would they accept him, after what he did when he saw the woman? Would they be willing to talk to someone who seemed to run away at every encounter? Or would they just kill him on sight?
“Umbarra, could you speak to them for me? Translate it into their language?”
Umbarra’s face form nodded.
With a deep breath, Merriman strode out of the bush unarmed.
-
MAYA
seven years ago

Merriman was better at talking than the spear. He relied on that as the duck he still hadn’t named flapped around him in a panic.
He’d told them something was coming yesterday. They hadn’t believed him, but maybe that was just because he was thirteen. If he gave them reason to believe, they would ready their spears and fight off whatever was coming. The fact was, though, he only had a black wood duck that was flapping around – a duck they couldn’t see – as proof. His totem was a wood duck, so that might convince them it was more than him seeing things or him trying to make trouble.
He told them again when the campfire was being made. He told them the duck was just like any other wood duck, only completely black, and that he felt a deep connection to it. He did. If the thing died, Merriman felt a bit of his heart would die with it. He told him how he could sense what the duck meant when it did things, how it was even now flapping like every breath might be its last. Surely they knew what this meant, didn’t they?
They relented, gathering their spears and forming defences. As the last line was formed, people rose against them, but they were ready. Merriman smiled in the dark.
-
MINOA
The white people saw reason. They wrote their words down, which was intriguing. They used a special code, where a certain sound meant a written symbol, and by combining symbols you could make any word. Umbarra intrigued them, but even Merriman didn’t know where he had come from. They eventually set across the land, the white people taking great interest in the songlines Merriman used to navigate. Did they not have those?
When they finally reached the clan, Merriman told the white people to wait nearby. He figured his people wouldn’t know about them. Merriman’s brother Djalu grabbed him in a hug, and he recounted his travels.
Djalu stiffened when he mentioned the white people. “And what did you do?” he said.
“What is so bad about them?”
“They were going to kill us immediately. We killed them first, but they had their weapons ready.”
Maybe their compliance was a trap. Merriman told Djalu the rest of his story, pointing out that he didn’t know what was happening back at home, and told Djalu where the white people were now. He nodded grimly and left.
When Merriman got back, the white people were dead.
Rushing through their things, Merriman found some food he’d never seen, some strange tools, and some things that must have been for writing, since there was already some code written on one. The sheets were as thin as grass. Maybe he could get more clues on where they were from if he deciphered the code.
“Umbarra,” he whispered, “do you know what this says?”
“Some of it. It’s not all spelt how it sounds,” Umbarra said, whizzing around his face.
“Well, I’m going to try and figure out the rest.”
Bending over the sheets, Merriman got to work.
-
AKSUM
Merriman woke in a completely different place. Had he gone to sleep over those sheets?
White people were everywhere, aside from a few people he didn’t recognise. Umbarra was still there. Was this a dream? No, his back hurt. Somehow, he was actually in a place he didn’t know, and with no idea how he got there. He was alone in a box that must have had wheels on it. He had slept through that?
What had happened to the rest of the clan, then? Were they here, too?
A white person stepped up to him and said something. “You can’t understand me, can you?” Umbarra translated. “Well, you’re stupid.”
“Tell her she’s equally stupid for assuming that.” Umbarra translated the words as if they were coming from his own mouth.
She looked suitably aghast. “You speak English?”
“Yes.” It was a lie, but he might as well have. “Will you let me out?”
She laughed. “You’re going to be here for twenty years. No point trying to escape.”
For twenty years. “What is this place?”
“A camp for the likes of you. You’ll become civilised through this program.”
He looked to Umbarra, who wasn’t panicking, but he definitely wasn’t calm either. “Do you know where the rest of my clan are?”
“With us.”
“Where with you?”
“You don’t need to know that. It’s useless information. Just stay with-”
“Tell me where they are. I’ll give you anything you like for it.”
“I want to know where you learned English. Never heard of one of you learning English before.”
What if they found a way to take Umbarra? They couldn’t, surely, if even Merriman didn’t know how he came to be. But it was his only option.
“I’ll tell you,” he said.
-
AZTECS
The others were in various boxes next to his. So close, but Merriman barely thought about them. He spent the whole day with eyes fixed on Umbarra. He had to get out. If not with the others, then at least him and Umbarra. Umbarra’s eyes were as frenzied as when he panicked, but he stayed still. He had to escape this place.
So Merriman spent the rest of the day scanning the place.
Not a tree this side of the fence. Grass stretched out to where the fence sectioned this place off from the rest of the world, trees leaning over it. Those gum trees were like the ones that leaned over their place, longing for some warmth and community. He’d tried to touch them since he was six and could reach for the leaves that seemed so far away. He’d finally done it with a run-up jump when he was twelve, and he could do it on tiptoes when he was fifteen. Now he could grab hold of the branches and swing himself up.
Merriman needed those memories back. He needed his home, his clan. But how would he escape a place that was guarded so heavily, intent on keeping them in?
Carts rolled in and out of the place, the gate opening without question for each one.
Merriman had a plan.
-
EGYPT
It turned out that being in a cart with dried grass covering you was quite uncomfortable.
Merriman huddled in there for hours, perfectly still, until the cart moved. A gate creaked around him. He was out.
And he was alone. Except for Umbarra, but he was worthless now.
He should have brought the rest of them with him. How were they going to get out without him to show them how? The white people might find him here anyway, and then it would be over. He would be entirely useless, and they would probably make him do something terrible for it. This was a stupid plan, when he actually thought about it. Where did the carts go?
He forced himself not to move as he was dumped with the grass into a pile. Umbarra rested next to him, somehow darker than the darkness surrounding him, but what would Umbarra do? Could he do anything, even with Umbarra to help him? They would do worse to his people for this if they found him. And they would find him eventually, under all the grass and pretence.
What was this all for, then? Maybe it was just for himself. Some twisted part of his mind needed him to prove himself in a stupid way like this. He couldn’t even get anyone else out. He only really thought about himself, since he saw the white people… even since that day with the invaders. He deserved-
A scream tore out of Merriman as a piece of his heart tore away.
UMBARRA.
He was alone.
-
NAVAJO
Merriman quelled his grief. He had to, if he wanted to escape.
But was it worth it, without Umbarra? Was anything?
The white people were probably here and would have heard his scream. They were the terrible reason Umbarra was gone. He refused to believe Umbarra was dead. Simply missing. He couldn’t die. Merriman had to find some way out of this situation, out of this pile of grass, away from these white people who stole his soul.
But how, with them all surely just standing there, waiting for him? Pricks of light shone through the dried grass, then smothered by another heap. Surely they had heard him. But… he could just sleep here, couldn’t he? Life was nothing without Umbarra. The others could escape… by themselves… they didn’t really need his help, did they? He was nothing. He was… he wanted to sleep, sleep life away…
A hand reached out to him, a friendly hand… it wasn’t white, was it? No, it couldn’t be white. He took the hand. It pulled him, pulled and pulled and pulled through the mountain of grass, trying to help him find light in this dark, dark place, because surely there was light in this life. He remembered something like it before… before…
That light. It blinded him to the people, and for a few seconds he didn’t know what he was seeing. Then he saw that there were three of them, one still holding his hand, and… he knew them. He knew them, and their faces almost blinded him to the pain in his soul. The one holding his hand was Djalu, and Merriman hugged him, kept there for so long, the feeling of holding onto someone he knew so far away until now.
“We’ve got to escape,” Djalu whispered into his ear.
And finally, Merriman actually wanted to.
-
GREECE
“Merriman,” Djalu said, “I’ve got magic now.”
He poked his head up from behind the grass, then back down. “That’s amazing, Djalu!”
He was happy for Djalu, but part of him thought Umbarra had gone to Djalu instead, and another part of him knew Djalu’s true magic was better than Umbarra’s outside help – which would make Djalu better for leader when the time came. But now… now Merriman didn’t even have Umbarra, and he still hurt too much to tell Djalu.
“What’s your magic like?”
“I can’t do very much with it at the moment, but I can make different colours, like this.” Djalu cupped his hand, and orange tendrils rose from it.
“Wow,” Merriman breathed.
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t really help do anything like Umbarra does… what happened to Umbarra?”
“He left. I told them about him so they could tell me where you were, and they took him. In the end it didn’t really matter.”
Djalu hugged him. “It did matter. I overheard her. That was the only way I knew to look for Bayan and Kai. We got together in time to see you leave, and we saw the grass rumble. We thought it must have been you, and it was.”
“So how do we get out of here? Or do we just leave?”
“We’re out of the fence, but there are still people running around- hey, what’s this?”
MESOPOTAMIA
A sheet Merriman recognised had fallen onto the ground. That was one of the sheets he had been studying, trying to decipher the white people’s code. He picked it up. It was useless anyway. Even if he could decipher the code, it was in English, and he couldn’t understand it.
If only Umbarra was here. Umbarra, come back. I need you.
Relief came to him, so quick and refreshing he crumpled. He was whole again. Umbarra. Umbarra, thank you. Where did you go?
He didn’t see anything, but he felt warmth on his shoulder. “They took me, and then they released me. I refused to be of use to them. I have you.”
“Do you know what the sheet says?”
“You know.”
He looked down, and he could read it, clear as if it were in his own language.
Fire streaks from hill to stone,
Its deadly wake leaves land alone.
Ashen ground, the silence forlorn,
Left weakened prey to rain and storm.
Only death can follow flame,
This feral beast no man can tame.
One only hopes the fire winks out,
Rain wash the land, oh clouds about.
That wasn’t right. Something he could write with had dropped out, too, and he wrote.
Flame is life, and yes, tongues burn,
But watch the land, and all will learn.
When fire retreats, charred hearts awake,
To bear the next, new trees they will make.
Only burning brings the true bushland,
For without the fire, it would crumple, not stand.
Merriman wasn’t very good at poetry, but it got the point across, and… maybe he could do something about that last line.
For fire is the cleansing hand.
Perfect. Now they could escape.
-
SWAHILI CITY STATES
Scene 13
Late morning outside the camp. Merriman and Djalu hide behind a large pile of hay, while Bayan and Kai are closer to the fence, looking at the hay. People move around everywhere.
DJALU
You ready?
MERRIMAN
Just about. About as ready as I’m going to be.
Djalu sends purple tendrils above the pile of hay, and Bayan slowly rises. Merriman and Djalu jump up, messing up the pile of hay while mock arguing and generally causing chaos. Everyone turns toward them, and Bayan jumps the fence into the camp.
BAYAN
Daku? Goonagulla?
Bayan looks through the carts and finds a few people.
BAYAN
Jump the fence and run! This is your only chance. Quick, before they realise.
More people realise this is their chance and run. Meanwhile, people are trying to stop Djalu and Merriman, but they spear anyone who gets close. The hay pile is utterly ruined, and people are screaming for reinforcements.
MERRIMAN
Umbarra! Make more distractions, they’re going to see everyone.
Umbarra runs through the crowd, staying close to the hay. Most of the captive people have left the camp by now, but Kai stays near them, fighting anyone who gets close.
UMBARRA
You lot are horrible people. Thankfully, I will never be close to you again.
MERRIMAN
(bad acting) I will kill you, uh, Kai! You’ve done terrible things to me!
The others are long gone, and Merriman and Djalu smile and run offstage, much to the confusion of the others, who disperse.
End scene.

3623 words
https://u.cubeupload.com/1lmam/weekly4.png

Critique for Vi <3
317 words

First of all, I loved reading through this! I’ve never really read a piece in that style before so it was really cool to be able to!

To improve I think you could add more description in between the speaking. For example, after ‘this wasn’t my house’ you could put ‘I shuddered, the cold feel of the words seeping into me.’
I think you could also change ‘My cupboard was the same, same food and same empty wrappers.’ because you repeat ‘same’ quite a lot here. Although I understand why you would do that (cos I use repetition all the time in my writing) I feel like it doesn’t have the same (no pun intended lol) flow. Or you could add a colon after the first ‘same’ to make it more separated.
I love the suspense you add for ‘this wasn’t my house’!

I think that you could be a bit more specific about the windows because the windows left in a ‘blur of white’ seems a bit unclear. I understand what you mean by this, but others reading that might need to go over it to understand
‘That does stick with me’ (quite a bit later on in the writing) sounds a bit unnatural. If I were you, I’d just put an ellipsis and then ‘that sticks with me.’


Sorry if I’ve been a bit harsh with this critique! Honestly, the reason it’s so short is because I couldn’t find anything bad in your piece at all! I loved the style you wrote it in, the way it flows so beautifully, and you’ve still managed to add description into the dialogue without making it sound unnatural! I LOVE the description in the last paragraph <3

I hope this critique helps (which it probs won’t cause you didn’t really need any help on this awesome piece) and best of luck for the writing competition cause this is an amazing piece <3