Daily 10 - Write about a screen-free interaction

I got out of bed. I was doomscrolling on instagram before logging on to scratch and catching up on what i missed. I checked the Main Cabin, as per normal. I always check the daily, read it. So I did it first thing.

I put my phone down and went to the kitchen. My sister was up early, or what I thought was early- turns out I slept in to around 10:30am. She was making pancakes.

“About time you woke up.” My Mum said as a walked to the bathroom.

“Morning.” I replied. I got ready, brushed my teeth.

I walked back over to my sister, and stole a ready pancake and took a bite.

“Oi!” she yelled, I smiled and put it back down. “Can you put the bacon in the oven please?”

I nodded and lined a baking tray with aluminum foil and layed the bacon down. I pressed start on the oven, allowing the food to cook for 12 minutes.

“Need anything else?” I asked, she shook her head.

“No. Wait- set the table.” She replied, I chuckled and pulled out plates and cutlery. I layed them on the table.

I then noticed she was watching a show. It was weird.

“What are you watching?”

“I don't know, it just came on.” Lies. She did know and I found this out hours later when I asked her about it again.

.

main post

11.07.25 ⟢ 207/200 words ~ Inspired by real life

We walk down the path together, the heat slowing us down. The sun shines as we cross the road, skip through shadows and talk about nothing in particular. My trainers come to a halt on the ground all of a sudden, as I eye something down the road. Should we? Should we not? Before I can properly decide whether this is really needed, the question escapes my mouth: ‘Do you want to get ice cream?’

She nods, grinning. I smile. My wallet is in my bag and I reach for it, pushing open the door and stepping into the cool air-conditioned shop. We gasp at the marvellous array of different-coloured choices and eventually decide on one. Small scoops topped with a one way ticket to brain freeze central gets paid for and as we head back outside, the journey back home is suddenly a lot more enjoyable.

I’m glad because I needed this more than I thought— it’s really easy to lose faith, happiness and trust in the world but it’s also really easy to find it again. With a quick glance behind us, I can tell that our shadows on the sidewalk are enjoying the ice cream, too. Glad, I turn around again and face forward.

◆◇◆◇◆ EVIDENCE 11: INTERACTION ◆◇◆◇◆

You've probably already heard the (unofficial) SWC motto ‘life > SWC’. For today's daily, take a screen break, walk up to someone, and interact with them! Now, return to your device and write at least 200 words inspired by the interaction! Doing this daily will earn you 150 points, plus an extra 100 if you share proof! Happy writing!

I made my brother make french fries for me and then proceeded to call him fat (as a joke)

We stopped outside the diner, it looked like a typical old-fashioned diner from the 90s or something.

“This place still exists?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow to my brother. He shrugged, grinning to the left in a goofy grin.

“Yeah. It does.” He looked over to me, about to open his mouth, I already knew what he was going to ask.

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, yeah, we can go in.”

He cheered in triumph, I scoffed, though I was amused. Of course, my pride wouldn’t let me admit that. I smiled softly, opening the door to the diner and listened to the soft jingle the door made when it was opened. We sat down at the nearest table. The seats were a scarlet red with a smooth white table. The floors were a checkerboard pattern.

There was a radio playing on the table, it seemed to be some old radio station no one listened to anymore.

A waiter came up to our table, the typical corporate smile on her face. Neither of us had particularly planned what we were going to order. We said the first thing we thought they’d probably have on the menu.

“I’ll have a burger and fries.”
“Oh—uh, yeah, me too.”

We sat there, talking about dumb things for a while, until food arrived. My brother grabbed fries first.

“Of course you grabbed them first…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

We both laughed in the middle of the diner.

♖ | 244 words

AZURE. HORROR. JULY '25
THE HORRORS SHALL TRIUMPH. THE HORRORS SHALL TRIUMPH. THE HORRORS SHALL—

Dailies

• 07/11 — Illness || 350 words || Happens to the best of us.
  
• 07/13 — Defendant Azure's Alibi || 382 words || I swear guys it was the horrors
  
• 07/14 — Our Multiverse: February 2022 Article || 1033 words || Wherein constellations reveal one's destiny.
  
• 07/23 — Sally's Rambling || 809 words || A girl on fire talks to no one.
  

Weeklies

• Week 2 — Fairy Tales || 202 words (WIP)
  

Word Wars

• 07/13 — Vs. @CleverComment || 366 words
  

Other

Daily: Illness
Word count: 350 | 07/11/2025
You've probably already heard the (unofficial) SWC motto ‘life > SWC’. For today's daily, take a screen break, walk up to someone, and interact with them! Now, return to your device and write at least 200 words inspired by the interaction! Doing this daily will earn you 150 points, plus an extra 100 if you share proof! Happy writing!
i am so ill right now

Seros pokes at the soggy strip of meat with a fork. His face is flushed red, and a box of tissues rests, half-emptied, before him.“How does this even HAPPEN?” he groans. “I can’t TASTE anything!”

“I think it’s a science thing,” says Emiline from across the table, while chewing a mouthful of rice. Her facial features seem to change shape as she eats. “Y’know, most of your taste is linked to your smell. If your nose is clogged, you can’t smell. So now you can’t taste.”

With a sigh Seros flops backwards onto his own red-feathered wings, draping his free arm over his forehead. “So, all of life’s joys have been TAKEN from me.”

The salamander boy Drew to his left rolls his eyes. “Loving the assumption that that’s the only joy in your life. Now eat your food bro, we’ve been here an hour!”

The rest of the torchlit mess hall was empty, save for the cleaning spirits and a humanoid bush-man who lay asleep on one of the tables.

“So if I can’t smell, I can’t TASTE?” the winged man whines.

Emiline shrugs, her hair subtly shifting in hue. “Seems it.”

“Ugh. Man, they already used magic and I’m STILL not recovering! And now my brain’s getting all FUNNY.”

“Hasn’t it always been?”

The other two share a laugh as the avian man face-plants dramatically onto the table.

The soggy strip of meat sits untouched on the plate. The cleaner spirits begin to file out of the room, and the bush-man stirs from his slumber. Soon the three of them are left in silence. Two kids and their under-the-weather sports club captain.

“It’s all good.” Drew smiles. “Take your time. We’ve got your back, bro.”

Emiline nods. “I mean, you’ve taken care of us, as if we were your siblings. Now it’s our turn.”

A clouded look of vague understanding fills Seros’s eyes as he glances up at them. “You got my back?” he mumbles.

“Yes. Always and forever.”

“Oh.” A weak grin spreads across the avian’s face. “In THAT case… can I please have it back now?”

return to the pit where the horrors dwell

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

INVESTIGATION FILE #2

◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

◇ PART ONE ◇

We're all used to the fairy tales we've grown up with, but has it ever occurred to you how they change as they travel across different countries? In the first part of this weekly, we'll be comparing our beloved fairy tales and how they change as they go across different cultures. Go to this project about them to learn more. Make sure to write 200 words, and have fun! We can't wait to see what you come up with.

The first thing I noticed was the fact that many of them had to do with animals. For example, in ‘Wonderful Youth’, the princess overhears two birds. In ‘The Story of Tuan MacCarill’ the man says he is reborn as several different animals such as a stag, a hawk, a boar, and a salmon. And in ‘Petrosinella’ the magical acorns turn into different animals.

A lot of these are also cautionary tales. ‘Rumplestiltskin’ warns not to be greedy, ‘The Fountain of Youth’ teaches to not be greedy as well, and ‘Father Frost’ teaches to not be selfish.

I also noticed that a lot of them had to do with royalty in some way. In ‘Rumplestitskin’ there is a greedy king, in ‘Wonderful Youth’ it has 3 princesses and a prince, and in ‘Petrosinella’ a prince is the one to approach the tower.

Also a connection between the two fairy tales ‘Rumplestiltskin’ and ‘Petrosinella’ is that they both involve someone asking someone else for their firstborn child. In Rumplestiltskin he asks for it in exchange to spin the straw into gold and in Petrosinella it is the consequence of eating the parsley. I also think that this can be loosely tied to ‘Father Frost’ due to the fact that in Father Frost the stepmother tells the father to sacrifice his daughter and leave her in the woods to freeze.

♖ | 228 words


◆ PART TWO ◆

Now that you know all about fairy tales from across different cultures, we'll be zooming in towards an essential element in all enchanted stories - objects! Whether it's Cinderella's glass slippers, Aladdin's lamp, or the evil queen's magical mirror, these objects - enchanted or not - are all key ingredients to an exciting story. For the second part of this weekly, you'll be writing about an object from a fairy tale. This can be anything from a battle-worn sword to a rusty notebook, let your imagination run free! You'll need at least 200 words to complete this part.

Midas’s pouch is a pouch of which’s name comes from the legend of the Midas touch. It looks like a regular pouch, the only thing of note is the golden chain that wrapped itself around the top of the pouch.

It’s not named after Midas for no reason though, for anything you put into the pouch turns into gold. Whether it be jewels, food, wood, anything of the sort, it will be turned into gold the moment it is lifted out of the pouch. Sounds too good to be true, doesn’t it? Well, like the myth of Midas’s golden touch, there is a drawback. Anyone who comes into possession of Midas’s pouch will be granted an insatiable greed.

Another thing about the pouch is the fact that it is a pocket dimension, able to hold any amount of items, the pouch has an infinite amount of space, and is able to hold any amount of items.

When a user holds Midas’s pouch, they’ll have a sudden urge to fill said pouch to the brim, they wish to fill it until the pouch is full. At that point, they put items in the pouch for the sake of having more, not for the sake of having gold. They simply wish to fill the pouch to the brim, regardless of whatever consequence may come.

Due to the infinite amount of space, it can never be filled, meaning the user’s greed will never subside. It will be a constant need for more, a constant greed for everything.

Due to this constant greed, they will not be able to control themselves, they’ll go mad. They’ll put anything and everything they can inside the pouch, which will eventually lead to their demise. Inside the pouch they will dump everything they need. They’ll put their food, their drink, everything they require into the pouch. They will tear apart their house bit by bit until its entirety is in the pouch.

The user will either succumb to their lack of necessities, or eventually putting themselves into the pouch, turning themselves into gold.

♖ | 345 words


◇ PART THREE ◇

Think back to something in a fairy tale that you’d change if given a chance. Maybe you’d alter the ending, setting, genre, genders, characters, or time period–for this part of the weekly, you can add any sort of twist to your retelling! Put a novel spin on a classic fairy tale, writing at least 400 for this part of the weekly.

Her hair, black as night, skin as smooth as a seashell.

I couldn’t help but ask myself, “How could something so beautiful exist?” Were all humans as beautiful as she were? Was she a gift from the heavens themselves? Is she a goddess of some kind?

How could someone like her be real?

Her eyes were closed, serene, at peace. Her hands outstretched to the surface.

Humans can’t breathe underwater, can they?

With a sudden ambition, I swam forward. Her hair flowed so beautifully, it was as if every bit of her person was orchestrated to perfection. She must’ve been blessed by god, to exist as someone so beautiful. She was God's gift to our world, I only had to make sure that gift wasn’t taken from us.

I lifted her up, carrying her bridal-style. Now I got a closer look at her, I truly could tell she was a blessing to us all. I wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, but perhaps I am now. Truly, her beauty was immeasurable.

I carried her to shore, the sand sticking to her hair and clothes. She breathed, a sure sign of life. I smiled softly, God's gift wasn’t gone yet. This girl truly was someone special. Her eyes fluttered, her eyelashes flickering in the sunlight. It was time for me to take my departure. She likely wouldn’t react kindly to a being that didn’t even have two legs like she had.

“Goodbye.” I spoke softly, returning to sea.

She truly was a blessing to this world.

—

“In exchange for your voice, I can give you legs.”

I signed the contract.

—

When I walked on land, my throat was tight, I couldn’t express myself through words, I could only speak with my actions.

I found the woman I saved, her deep blue eyes shining against her dark hair. My heart fluttered.

She was perfection.

I loved her, oh I loved her so, so much. I wanted to be able to spend the rest of my life with her.

But we were both women.

Oh, oh how I wished we could share a kiss under moonlit days, how I wished I could clasp her hand in mine. But the people, the people would sneer at us, mock us. She didn’t deserve that. In this time, in this place, we would both be ridiculed and mocked for the one we wished to share the rest of our lives with.

So, I won’t be able to share a kiss with the woman I want to, I will hide away for her. Maybe in a different time, maybe in a different place we could unite.

Maybe in another life, we’ll be able to share our first kiss.

♖ | 454 words

◆ PART FOUR ◆

We hope you've been having fun exploring various elements of fairy tales so far, because it's time to put everything together! For the final part of this weekly, you'll be creating your own fairy tales! Write 500 words of a fairy tale of your own creation using what you've learnt in the previous parts - the possibilities are endless! We can't wait to see what you'll create!

She was a princess, and I was a servant.

Of course, she was in the center of the thoughts of everyone who had lived in the kingdom. She had the voice of an angel, and the looks of one too. Everyone idolized her, she was a reflection of the kingdom.

She was beautiful, so beautiful of course. She was a princess after all, royalty. She’s meant to be beautiful. Everyone adored her, and for good reason too. There was nothing about her that couldn’t be idolized about her. She was perfect, no matter how hard you tried you could never pick out a single flaw in her.

She was getting older now, she had to find a suitor to continue her legacy.

I wanted to be hers, but I was a woman.

I loved her, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her, but I couldn’t. We wouldn’t be able to continue our bloodline. We’d be frowned upon, ridiculed for the rest of our lives. Would she want that? She didn’t deserve that. Someone with beauty like hers deserved to live the rest of her life in joy.

Oh but my love, I couldn’t contain my love for her. She deserved so much more than I could ever give her, but I was greedy. Oh, I was so, so greedy. I wished to meet her, I wished to be with her just once. Even if she’d never love me, I would.

“Hello,” I entered the princess’s room, she was reading a scroll. She looked up, and smiled softly when she saw me.

“What brings you here?” She asked, sweet and soft, another thing I loved in her. I loved her, but I knew that she couldn’t love me back. Despite that, I would tell her how I felt. It was one thing I wanted to get off my chest.

“Would you like anything, your Majesty?”

She thought for a moment, before turning to me. Her eyes smiled, she twirled her hair. “Could you perhaps make—”

“Brioche?”

She nodded, “You know me so well.”

I smiled, leaving her room and entering the kitchen. I knew her favorite food was brioche, in the same way I knew that the sun and moon rose every day, in the same way I knew that grass was green. When I finished, I came back. She smiled, kind. I handed her the platter, and she beamed in delight.

I sighed.

Now was the time to confess.

“I have to tell you something, Princess.”

Her eyes grew worried, “Has something happened?”

I shook my head, “No, nothing of the sort. You see…” I took an intake of air, a shaky breath.

“Princess, I know we are both women, and I know this is forbidden,” I trembled with my words, paying before speaking, “but I love you. I love you so much.”

The princess stood there, silent. Analyzing me, but then she smiled softly.

“Not in this life,” She whispered, “but maybe another one.”

We then shared our first and last kiss.

♖ | 507 words

Critique for @Eabha2023

OMG I LOVED IT!!!! It was actually a new types of witing for my to read, with xe/xem pronouns, and a sort of real-fi that isnt exaggerated, just the real and sad life that people feel. I feel like when i write i look at it from a phycological point of view, but this is so raw and honest that you can really feel empathy. Honestly, i have no complaints except: WRITE MORE I WANT TO READ IT AHHHH. This is beautiful keep it up!!!!!

Honestly i WANTED to write more than this but i (for the first time) genuinely have not been able to muster ANYTHING XDDD. I'm a person who just starts squeezing everything and anything from ppls writing bcs i need points but *, you've put me in chains DDD

WHEN U WRITE MORE I'DE BEST BE THE 1st TO KNOW AHHH~~

11th July - Daily
Words Written: 236/200
Prompt: You've probably already heard the (unofficial) SWC motto ‘life > SWC’. For today's daily, take a screen break, walk up to someone, and interact with them! Now, return to your device and write at least 200 words inspired by the interaction! Doing this daily will earn you 150 points, plus an extra 100 if you share proof! Happy writing!



“I’m dying in this heat,” Elyta groaned as she ambled along in the park with Alaina. It was rather hot - 30 degrees, if Elyta remembered correctly, and having just come out of the cool, refreshing ice rink, this was… not quite welcome.

“Says the one who’s been in an ice rink all day!” Alaina teased. Elyta rolled her eyes. “I’ve been in and out of the hospital all day, so tell me about it.”

“Yeah, but I miss the cold.” Elyta admitted. “It’s quite refreshing, in this weather. It’s moments like these I’m glad we have a permanent ice rink.”

“Yeah, and I get jealous of you,” Alaina groaned, Elyta watching as she found a bit of shade in the park. “Hey, come down. Let’s sit and talk,”

Elyta made a groaning sound as she sat down. “Sorry. I, uh, I think I did something while at practice today,”

Alaina laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing to worry about if it’s not causing you extreme pain.”

“I know, I know,” Elyta said, grinning. “Anyways, we have the gala soon, so I was wondering if you wanted to come and watch.”

Alaina’s eyes lit up. “What sort of question is that? Yes, I would love to come! And if they argue, I’ll say it’s not every day you get to watch an olympic athlete do their thing,”

Elyta smirked playfully at Alaina. “Well… you might be right there.”

Daily
Word count: 327

It has been 1,094 days since the end of the world… Not exactly the end of the world but, I should probably explain better and in more detail.

Nobody really noticed that much. They said it was fine and just bugs adapting to their environment but, it is 2038 and the bugs have taken over the world. The cities are left in rubble as we now have a mosquito overlord and they don’t need the cities. We are told that us humans living in cities is stupid.

They just came one day and pulled people off the streets, at first we humans tried to fight them off, now we are just people working for their empire. No matter what we do now, we cannot overpower them. We work for them farming sugar and fruit juices for them to live and giving out our blood to continue their line.

We technically could stop, just go on strike, but that occurred last year but, nobody knows what happened to the people who did. They were just there on strike one day and gone the next. Some say that you get fed to the spiders, others say that you get sentenced to prison. But the first seems more likely than the second since they didn’t keep any of our old buildings.

They say that there is one land where there are no mosquitos- The Land of Ice. (Iceland) Even though none of us say it, we all hope that they escaped there. The one place where you can truly be safe from our overlords. Since it is too cold there, maybe it would be too cold to escape to there, but we still hope while we continue working for the bugs, waiting for maybe the one day where we can all rally to defeat them. Even though we know deep down in our hearts that rivalries that our countries fought years ago will probably keep us from doing so.

Word War #4 ⟡ 361 words

Duration: 5 minutes
Against: Snowy - Gothic
Prompt: “NO! NO! NO! DO NOT SET IT ON FIRE!”
Outcome: N/A

We're in the garden and today is my birthday. The cake is set down in front of me as people cheer and sing Happy Birthday. Someone hands me a lighter and I smile my thanks then turn back tot the cake. Um… There are no candles on the cake. The people crowding me don't seem that bothered about it, in fact they seem quite excited. This sort of freaks me out, then I remember a video I watched online a few weeks ago, where they burnt a layer of a cake off for some reason. Maybe that's what they want me to do? The song ends and everyone claps. I begin to light the cake on fire when a voice shouts ‘NO NO NO! DO NOT SET THAT ON FIRE!’ Too late. The cake is already simmering with flames. ‘UMM I FORGOT TO TELL YOU, BUT I PUT A FIREWORK IN THE CAKE!!’ shouts my brother. Why would he do that? Is he trying to poison me or something? I wouldn't put it past him, to be honest. The cake is already up in flames when BOOM it explodes and we watch as cake lumps fall from the sky. People laugh and try to catch some of the falling cake but I just stare at the patterns appearing in the sky. That was a little.. unexpected. The last of the cake falls and there's some scrabble to catch the final pieces before they hit the muddy ground but I am still still because I can see the ACTUAL CAKE- not the tiny lumps- THE ACTUAL CAKE- plummeting back down to Earth. I take a step back. It's going to land on my head. So I do the next reasonable thing, and push my brother in the way of the cake. It lands on him with a disgusting squelch and nobody seems to notice as more fireworks are set off. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see our pet cat leaping to pick up some cake that made its way into a puddle. No no no! She can not have cake! I rush to get her and then scramble

Daily - 256 words

Cancelled. One word, but one that made the day a whole lot more difficult. Trains running every hour - how convenient, right? Well, not when all the odd numbered hours are cancelled. Surrounded by a pretty station with hanging baskets of pink flowers, I looked up at the departures board. Of course, no change. We'd just have to wait an hour and a half.
The heat compressed us, as it had the whole weekend on the moors. It was bad enough sitting at a station, let alone hiking up hills. But we'd had fun. My sister belongs there, me not so much, but together we thrive - just the 2 of us, and the sheep and the rivers and the hills.
“There's a bus in 15 minutes, might get to the train station quicker.” A woman with kind eyes told us. Well that certainly changed things. We didn't quite know which station it was going to, and it ended up costing £3, but we took the risk. An hour on a bus in the heat is no easy feat, especially with the slight anxiety of a train connection to catch, but not quite knowing when or where we would arrive. Eventually, we got of the bus. “We made it!” The woman smiled at us as we rushed off to find platform 6A. Soon enough, after eventually finding the footbridge, we got on and were soon on our way home after a great expedition. Sure, maybe a bit zonked from the heat, but it was worth it.

Excerpt of a story for the critiquitaire!!

|| Arralyn Reed liked reading and throwing water balloons at people. That was really it. She had an acquired taste. So on this particular dreary Monday, when it was so rainy that people were getting doused by water even without her interference, she was engrossed in a particularly good book. It was so good, she almost didn’t hear the knock on her door that morning. But it was also a particularly loud knock, so Arralyn did hear it. And she really had no choice but to go and see who it was. She couldn’t exactly pretend she didn’t hear it. So she got up and opened the door. Standing on her porch was a girl around her age (fourteen) with light brown hair, dark-ish skin, huge, black, round glasses, and war paint on the side under her eyes.
“Hi! My name is Alia. Would you like to go on a quest with me?” the girl asked.
Arralyn was surprised. Since when did fourteen-year-old girls go around asking people if they wanted to go on quests? Besides, she had a really good book waiting for her on her couch…..
“No thanks,” Arralyn said.
Alia blinked.
“No thanks? Really?” Alia repeated. “This could change your life! It’s an adventure!”
“Sorry. Not today,” Arralyn shrugged.
And then she went back to the couch and immersed herself in her book yet again.
Alia huffed and closed the door. When Arralyn looked out the window, she saw Alia talking to her neighbor, Finley, probably about a quest. She sighed with relief. Now she could spend the rest of the day reading.
Arralyn turned the page and happily read the acknowledgements.
Wait. The acknowledgements? That meant…. That meant that she had finished her book. That she had passed up the offer of adventure for nothing.
Arralyn closed her book, her mind made up. She had made a mistake. And now, she would find Alia
and go on that quest!
This proved harder than it sounded. Alia was nowhere to be found! She wasn’t with Finley, who wassitting on a porch swing napping. She wasn’t at the house next to Finley’s. She wasn’t at any of the houses on her street! There was no way Alia had already gone through all of the houses. So that meant she must be taking a break! Arralyn checked her watch. Lunchtime. If Alia was taking a break, she would probably be getting lunch. That was what Arralyn would be doing. And there was only one place to get food within walking distance… Arralyn groaned inwardly. She hated that place.
*********
“Pizza! Pizza!” cried a guy in a pizza costume next to the Leaning Tower of Pizza, Arralyn’s least favorite pizza place of all time. The man who owned the place, Gerrardo (whose name was actually Brian), always used an incredibly fake Italian accent even though his pizza wasn’t even made the Italian way. It was infuriating.
But next to the pizza guy sat Alia. So Arralyn brushed away her fury and sat down next to her.
“I changed my mind,” Arralyn said, tapping Alia on the shoulder. “I do want to go on a quest.”
“Really?” Alia perked up.
“Yup!” She nodded.
“Well then, let’s get moving!” Alia cheered. “I have everything we need on the boat. Let’s go!”
*********
“We’re here!” cries Alia. “The lost city of Atlantis!”
“Really? That was fast,” Arralyn snaps her head up, closes her book, and cranes her head over the side of the boat.
“I don’t see it…” she says when she finds only water.
“Of course you don’t, silly, it’s underwater! Like, really deep underwater,” Alia says.
Arralyn lets out a disappointed exhale and opens her book back up.
“Tell me when we’re ready to dive under,” She says as she immerses herself in a different world inside the words.
“Uh, Arralyn?” Alia waves a hand between Arralyn and her book. “We’re ready now.”
Arralyn huffs and closes her book yet again.
“Can it wait until I finish my chapter?” She asks grumpily.
“I mean, I suppose… but it would take some work on my part to make sure we don’t drift away too far…. You see, the portal is in a very specific place, and if we don’t dive in at precisely the exact place, it’s possible we won’t be sucked into the portal,” Alia says. “And then we won’t be the first ones to discover Atlantis, so….”
“Okay, fine. Let’s do it,” Arralyn relents.
Alia leads her to the rim of the boat and they both step up onto it.
“3….. 2….. 1…… Jump!” Alia cries.
And then they are submersed by awful inky black darkness.
“Turn on your flashlight!” Alia hisses.
Arralyn fumbles around for the switch on the handheld device and suddenly a shiny beam cuts across the water. She shines it around the water in search of a sign of magic.
“Where’s the portal? Weren’t we supposed to be sucked into it?” She asks. “Alia?”
“You were,” an unfamiliar voice hisses from behind her. Arralyn whirls around in surprise, only to find whatever had spoken had disappeared.
“Alia? Is that you?” She asks nervously.
No answer.
“Alia? Where are you?”
“Your friend is not here,” The voice says, somehow behind her once again.
“What? What do you mean? She was here! Just a second before you started to talk…. You didn’t hurt her, did you? She’s a really nice person, she’d never do anyone harm! Let her free!” Arralyn cries, realizing as she talks how much she had begun to care about Alia, the person who had brought her adventure in her boring life. She had always wanted a best friend like the one in her books… and now the only person who had ever given Arralyn the time of day was gone.
“Your friend is fine,” the voice says calmly.
“What’s your definition of fine?” she asks. “Who are you, anyway?”
“She was not hurt,” it says.
“But what did you do to her? Where is she?” Arralyn shouts.
“No need to yell. She is fine,” it repeats.
“If you won't tell me where she is, I’ll find out on my own. And who knows what sort of trouble I could start? I’m not afraid to punch a few of your friends. Better tell me now, so you’re not in hot water with your boss,” she warns.
“Hmm… You make a valid point,” the voice decides. “Come with me.”
A humanoid creature with murky blue skin, silky black hair, webbed feet and hands suddenly appears before her. It waves for Arralyn to follow it and dashes off.
Arralyn swims as fast as she can after it, hardly able to breath as she paddles faster than any human ever before.
Suddenly, the creature stops. Arralyn looks up, and what she sees is more beautiful than any place above them.
Atlantis. She made it. After a lifetime of boredom, she actually made it to Atlantis.
“Your friend is inside the palace,” the creature says, and it swims off into the city.
Arralyn can’t help but stand there in awe for a few more seconds. Then, she shakes herself out of her stupor and wades past the archway that announces, “Welcome to Atlantis!”
Soon, she comes to a stop at a wall of creatures similar to the one who led her here,these ones clad in armor, all in front of a beautiful coral palace.
“Halt! What is your purpose here?” One says.
“Uh… I am here to find my friend. I was told she was inside?” Arralyn stammers, then tries to draw herself up to look menacing, grinding her fist into her hand and glaring at them.
“Hmmph. What does your friend look like?” It sniffs, looking dubiously at her efforts to scare them.
“She has brown skin, wavy black hair, and round spectacles,” she scowls.
“The human?” Another one asks.
She nods in response.
“The queen said another one would probably be here soon,” the first one whispers to its friend.
“Come in,” The second one says, gesturing for Arralyn to go into the palace. As Arralyn wades toward it, a few of the soldiers follow close behind her.
The palace is the most gorgeous, breathtaking place Arralyn has ever seen. All of the walls were twisted with coral, and the walls themselves were a beautiful ivory color. There were portraits of creatures that Arralyn could only assume were the past monarchs of Atlantis. Rainbow fish dashed past her every step she took. But most breathtaking of all was the queen herself. Her pearly, light pink skin glowed against her wavy black hair. Her eyes were light crystals, and they seemed to change color slowly every few seconds. Her dress was white, and it trailed behind her on the stairs she was currently walking down.
“Hello, Arralyn,” she said.
“How do you know my name?” Arralyn asked, trying to keep up her menacing appearance. “And where’s Alia?”
“All will be revealed soon enough,” said the queen.
“How about now?” Arralyn challenged.
“Paitence, dear. We have plenty of time,” the queen gestured to the clock above her. It was frozen in place. “In fact, we have infinite time.”
“How did you do that?” Arralyn asked, in awe despite herself. As she looked around, she saw that all of the creatures around her were frozen in place, just like the clock.
The queen smiled.
“Time magic,” she said simply.
“Wow…. I mean….” Arralyn, thinking quickly, grabbed one of the frozen soldiers, stole its sword and pressed the blade against its throat.
“What are you doing with him, child?” the queen asked, bemused.
“If you don’t tell me where she is right now… I’ll… I’ll hurt him really badly!” Arralyn warned.
“You don’t want to do that….” the queen said, her voice dangerously calm.
Arralyn’s nerve wavered, but she didn’t drop her sword. In fact, she pressed it even closer to his neck.
“Let him go,” the queen demanded. When Arralyn didn’t move, she snapped her fingers and suddenly all of the soldiers came back to life and rushed at Arralyn. When the one Arralyn was holding realized where he was, he frantically tried to squirm his way out of her grip. But Arralyn, not to be deterred, flipped him over onto the ground, hard, and stomped her foot onto his chest, brandishing her sword menacingly.
“Anyone else want a turn?” She asked.
One of the creatures tried to rush at her from behind, but Arralyn saw her coming and kicked her back with her free leg. While she was doing that, though, she lost her focus on the other soldiers, and soon she felt two burly arms lift her up into the air. The soldier she had stomped on glared at her while she struggled helplessly in the air.
“Your Majesty,” the soldier carrying her bowed as best he could while carrying her. “The offender has been caught. “
“I can see that,” the queen said, still serene. “Let her down, please. I’ll take care of her.”
The soldier did as told.
Arralyn took advantage of this and fled as fast as she could towards a staircase, but with a clap of her hands the queen stopped Arralyn in her tracks with some sort of invisible magical bonds.
“Arralyn, child, this has gone too far. You need to take a few deep breaths. Do you really want to be doing this?” the queen asked sternly.
“Yes! I need to find Alia! Tell me where she is!” Arralyn yelled.
“Very well. Anemone, take her to the dungeon!” the queen clapped her hands again, and Arralyn’s bonds were gone. But before she could get any farther, another soldier picked her up and flung her over its shoulder.
“Let me go!” Arralyn shouted. But the soldier, apparently named Anemone, did not obey. Arralyn was dropped into a dank, smelly dungeon, just close enough to the door to hear the click of the lock. ||

Daily - 333 words
You've probably already heard the (unofficial) SWC motto ‘life > SWC’. For today's daily, take a screen break, walk up to someone, and interact with them! Now, return to your device and write at least 200 words inspired by the interaction! Doing this daily will earn you 150 points, plus an extra 100 if you share proof! Happy writing!

“I’ve got a dino monster truck!” proclaimed young Julian.
“I’ve got a robot that looks like a monster!” announced little Ben.
Listening to their conversation was incredibly fun. The two tiny boys exchanged an adorable little conversation while they played in the local kiddie pool. Ben’s mom sat on the side, feeding her 3-month-old. Meanwhile, Julian’s aunt and cousin entertained Julian and Ben, as well as Ben’s brother and sister.
“That’s so cool!” Julian’s aunt told the boys.
“Agreed,” Julian’s cousin stated.
The four kids continued on with their play, shooting each other with water guns as well as playing multiple rounds of tag. The whole time, the kids chatted, telling each other all about their cool toys. Most of their conversations were center around the phrase “I’ve got *insert thing*”, which was very entertaining for Julian’s aunt, cousin, and Ben’s older brother.
While the younger kids were playing, Julian’s cousin and Ben’s older brother (the only teenagers present) discussed teenager-y things, specifically high school, as they were both going to start their freshman year in August.
“Where are you going for high school?” inquired Ben’s older brother.
“CAHS. Classical Academy High School,” Julian’s cousin informed him.
Ben’s brother gasped. “I’m in a lottery to get into that school! I hope i get in.”
The two continued discussing the high school. Multiple times, they were interrupted by the aggressive splashing of the younger kids. Occasionally, they (along with Julian’s aunt) were sprayed with the water guns.
Of course, this opened the door for retaliation. To get back at the rambunctious younger kids, the two teenagers stole the water guns when the others were distracted, exacting a soaking wet revenge.
After revenge was exacted, Julian’s cousin recalled the Daily for SWC. She told Ben about the prompt, and he agreed to help her draft a little story about what had happened.
And that’s what you just read; a little tale about how some young kids and two teenagers entertained themselves at their local pool.

Feedback for @Sunclaw68 / 600 words not including quotes,

First off - wow. This poem is so striking, and I think a great blend of straightforward and taking a bit to understand. Obviously, with poetry, a lot of it is personal stylistic choices. It's also worth saying that the flow you have now comes from your personal voice, stream of thoughts, and tone, which you want to keep. But I will give you my thoughts and suggestions so you can make any edits you want to (but the poem is beautiful as it is).


For the first stanza, I absolutely love the opening line, it immediately sets the tone. And then I love that list in the 3rd line, which is really evocative. The part about cancers is so interesting and really did make me think about gender etc. I would say the punctuation and flow here work. I would potentially consider splitting up ‘here, I am not old enough to even consider going under. believe in the heaven of’ since it is a long line. I also don't know if the 2 phrases seem a bit disjointed. I do like the enjambment throughout the poem, but maybe keeping the first phrase on its own would increase the emotional impact, giving the reader a bit more time to think about it. ‘Not old enough’ really forces empathy, which I think is very powerful, and whilst the poem does continue with powerful and emotional images, giving the reader some time to reflect on that image may be helpful. Enjambment does add flow, and I love the disjointed feel it gives the poem, which mirrors your thoughts, but maybe the disjointed moments would be more impactful if it was used slightly less? Anyway, something to consider.

For the second stanza, I love how you have split up ceasefire. It makes it seem unsure, and I think the reader stops for a second to think why you have done that. I also love the last line: having that short sentence is really impactful.

For the final stanza, I love how it reads like an outpour of thoughts, which I think is especially fitting for the topic. However, I would consider either breaking some lines up so that you have a few shorter lines for more impact, or even creating a short paragraph in the middle (perhaps of just one line even), so that certain thoughts and images can really impact. The poem is packed with great images, but I wonder if some of them might get slightly lost the long lines and stanza. I think this structure might also look slightly overwhelming to some readers. Perhaps you could further split up lines such as ‘the cavity and not the cage, not the tumor. in / the dark i wonder if i really want a flat chest or if it’s just a’. I think especially these lines at the end have such emotional and dramatic value, which would be emphasised by more line breaks. Special mention has to go to that last line, which is absolutely perfect! I love the slight switch in tone.

A personal preference of mine is that I really like an ellipsis when done well, and I think one could work well somewhere where you are questioning yourself, if that trailing off of certainty is something you want to emphasise. But only if it feels right for your tone.

I would consider, if entering for the writing competition (in which it would have a great chance!), adding a glossary of the medical terms, which would help the poem make more sense to some readers.

Overall, what an amazing poem! It's so real and thought-provoking and so well written, and will stay with me. It already flows, and the punctuation is good, but maybe a few extra pauses for thoughts might be good, unless the style is purposefully emotional, in which case keep as it is!

Critique for Lestie ⟢ 426 words

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Hi, Lestie! Here’s your critique. Before we start, I’d like to point out that my first impression of this piece was that there were no paragraphs :') so perhaps try spacing out your writing for next time so it’s easier to read? <3 I'd also like to add that I can be a little bit harsh when critiquing so please read every line with an imaginary smiley face at the end

Procrastinating is an important life skill to learn. For example, if we did everything right away like we are supposedly supposed to do, who would be there to make us remember that we have so much more time? Who would tell us that we have all the time in the world to work on our projects? And then everyone would sit there, stewing silently, angry at themselves for not realizing that magical time bubbles exist, and it would only cost a moderate amount of fifty million dollars to purchase one from Costco.

Nice opening sentence! The irony is hitting hard <3 ‘supposedly supposed’ is a little bit of a mouthful and some could find it a bit confusing. I love the light-heartedness of this, but I don't exactly get what this is talking about! (If we have all the time in the world, why would we have to purchase it from Costco? Why would everyone be stewing silently?) Because of this, I'm not finding the writing as funny as I could be. Try rewording this to make it clearer; for example: 'Who would tell us about all the time we have to work on our projects?' Or change it up entirely! I feel like that line is quite literally saying the same thing as the question that came before it, but it's a good line nevertheless.

Now, many people do not realize that the key to procrastination is to simply forget about the task at hand. Find something else to do, whether it may be reading a silly comic, binging your favorite Netflix shows, or earning the world record of fastest time to steal your sibling’s bright pink socks. Whatever your decision, distract yourself and step away from your work. That way, you’re not motivated to work on it.

I love this section! Perhaps removing the ‘bright pink’ would make the humour feel less forced ^^

Secondly, understand that procrastination is often overlooked as one of the best strategies for completing your writing. While many people like to power through their writing and finish their ten thousand words early (and that’s okay! In fact, it is another highly encouraged strategy that compliments procrastination. The people working at Procrastination Inc, recommend that as well.), another thing to keep in mind is that you could be writing so many other things than writing about, for example, the section of your novel that involves YOU coming up with clever and tricky riddles for the characters to solve. Instead of facing this hurdle right away, turn around and explore other genres of writing, or instead write something silly.

I like the teacherly yet informal style this is written in, it's very natural and is pleasant to read. I noticed that you used ‘instead’ twice in a sentence; maybe switch up the second ‘instead’ to a ‘just’. ('Instead of facing this hurdle… just write something silly')!

Finally, the last step to procrastination is to begin working on your task right before its deadline. Procrastination wouldn’t be complete if there was no frantic struggle and panic to finish on time! That being said, an unfortunate side effect of procrastination is staying up past your recommended bedtime, and instead modifying your sleep schedule to a more horrifying version in which you only receive three hours of sleep. However, this pays off in the end, for the ultimate goal of procrastination is to finish your work on time!

I'm hoping that this is extremely sarcastic by this point lol, but all of this is far too relatable so kudos for that. To make this funnier, you could exaggerate it a little bit more, or add some short phrases. (For example, ‘In which you only receive three hours of sleep. Fun!’)

A truly amazing thing, procrastination is used worldwide by writers and other talented people alike. As a professional, I find that procrastination is truly the superior strategy to getting things done. While you are stealing your sibling’s bright pink socks, coming up with a TV show trailer with a fellow writer, and simply eating tiramisu, you will soon realize that procrastination has one again helped you in your writing! By procrastinating, your writing becomes even better due to your frantic words to finish on time.

I'm not sure how much I agree with that last line since I like to take my time, but that's just personal preference <3 this is a lovely closing paragraph!

Buy a full copy of A Professional’s Guide to Perfect Procrastination at your local Costco or Target. Any complaints about procrastination are not Procrastination Inc.’s problem. All rights reserved (or something…).
Written by a professional in perfect procrastination!

This may be a little long for an advertisement, if that's what you were aiming for, but it adds some more humour, which I really like! Overall, it was a good piece; the pacing worked well and the tone was really effective. In the future, a larger range of vocabulary would be great and some informal funny comments would help add to the comedy. It was a pleasure to critique your piece <3 Well done!

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400 points

word war - 347 words

Like honestly, just because it is your birthday doesnt mean you get special privileges. There’s a fine line between friendly fun and banter and then being mean. They always teach us at school about spotting the difference between bullying and banter, and im getting to that point. It being your birthday doesn't make you special in any way or mean you can do what you want. Just because you're blowing out the candles on the yummy vanilla cake with pink icing and sprinkles, which I can't wait to eat, doesn't mean that you can make fun of me. Anyway, I smile and laugh because you were so happy, and I can't spoil that on your big day. Why are birthdays such a big deal anyways, like it's not like you've actually done anything noticeable. If anything, your mother should be celebrated because all you did was get born, whilst she went through a lot. You just caused trouble, as always.. Anyway, I just roll my eyes, half joking but half real. Im a master at rolling my eyes from all the times I do it at my dad’s bad jokes. Not everything needs to be a joke! I love birthday parties =s though, even when the person gets a bit too full of themselves when they look at all the presents and everything. Cake, crisps, snacks, all of that jazz and fun and sugar just makes me so happy. Although there's always something bittersweet about watching someone else open presents and blow out candles. You kind of wish it could be you at the centre of attention, or not even that, just getting nice things. And everyone is being nice to you, as I have already demonstrated. I just laugh because I imagine if someone acted frosty to me on my birthday. To be honest, i would just brush it off, but it's your day and you deserve to be happy fully for just one day, and you deserve to be forgiven, at least until the clock strikes midnight, or at least the next day or two.

THIS IS UNFINISHED however I have filled every quota I need to in order for it to count for points

July 11 || 933 words || The conversation: Today at our local Tim Horton’s (yes, I'm Canadian), while my father caught up with a longtime friend of his, my sister and I were left to stand around and make our own entertainment. I decided to take this opportunity to start a conversation with her as we sipped our ice capps. We ended up going on about our personal favourite Mario Kart OSTs, and somehow went on a rant about Splatoon, my sister’s Splatoon OCs, and my Bug Fables OCs (and for the purpose of this story, I’m gonna make them the bug versions, not the recent human versions). So, I suppose I’ll have to do with that as I please. So, here's probably the weirdest fanfic I've probably ever written.

===

Syd groaned, seeing Papaya sitting there with their headphones again, jamming out in the middle of what they called their living room. He had grown tired of telling Papaya to chill out, hide out in their so-called bedroom, and jam out there. He could practically hear their own music, and was therefore surprised his friend hadn’t gone deaf.
Papaya crossed their wimpy little arms. “You just don’t have good music tastes. Pick up a Bugtendo Swap 2 when you get the chance, maybe then you’ll understand the art of the new Tortoise Beetle Island remix.”
“Sounds like the cheapest club music I’ve ever heard.”
“How DARE you!” They dropped their headphones in disbelief, music blasting from them, just loud enough that it sounded like it came from a mobile device at half volume. Aside from the music, the area went silent. Out of nowhere, something emerged from the pair of headphones. A swirl of colours, mainly teal and a light tan colour with an ever so slight hint of purple, slowly unswirled themselves to create an image of a beach, specifically one with quite the party. Upon the duo’s realization of what the image was, they were both absorbed.

Dart was bored. Ready for something new in her life. Her mentor was being a pain, hounding her once again. At least she was recently paid a modest 10 berries that day. Such money felt like a lot to her at this age, and she was ready to spend it all at the nearest pawn shop.
She entered, mainly hoping to find some sort of new book to read. Perhaps the 6th entry of Bugaria: A Complete History. No luck. However, something oddly intrigued her more.
Staring at the glass shelves, she noticed a hunky termapad-like device. “What’s that?” She asked the man behind the counter.
“Oh, that old thing?” He pointed at the same object she was eyeing. “Why, that’s the old Bugtendo Swap 2. You thought that Bugtendo Swap 13 was so yestermoon? Just wait until you play that. And don’t even think of playing the Bugtendo Playprism.”
She simply stared at him. “Bugtendo Swap… 13? Play…prism?”
“Ah, not a gamer?”
“No… not really. I saw my mentor play that Mite Knight game on a Gamebug before though.”
“Pfft- a GAMEBUG!? That old thing from over 100 moons ago!?” The man was almost in tears from his sudden fit of laughter..
“I thought it was pretty neat-”
“Yeah, the Bugtendo Swap 2 is WAY better than that. I can give it to you for… 9 berries.”
“Deal.”
Dart skipped home, her new console securely held in her hands. She clicked the little buttons on the controllers, and eventually turned the system on. Bugio Racer Land was already installed. She decided to give it a shot, playing on the most recommended beginner course, Tortoise Beetle Island. As she played, some character whacked her own with some sort of weapon, scaring her to the point of dropping the device. Now, with a slight crack in it, the same thing appeared that Papaya and Syd found. The swirling of colours, unswirling to create that image of that same beach. She was promptly absorbed by it afterwards.

Hype was building up in Splatsville. Since the new city had been built, this was the very first new Squidtendo console coming out. This one being the Squidtendo Splat 2. Everyone was lining up at the game store, hoping to be one of the lucky ones to obtain the device on launch day, just a few hours from now. There, Catoling, commonly known as Cat, and her younger sister Waddle, were ecstatic. Cat had known just the people to get in touch with to ensure their placement in receiving a Splat 2, and Waddle was ready to hack into the device as soon as she got her inky little hands on it.
Just a few hours later, Cat emerged from the local game store, box in hand. The two of them squealed, Cat shaking the box with the Splat 2 in it.
“Hey, don't break it before we open it!” Waddle lightly teased. Cat paused, and gave the box to her sister.
As the two settled into their apartment, Cat hooked up the device as quickly as possible, as Waddle took out her computer.
“You think you're gonna do it successfully? I heard Squidtendo put extra features in place to restrict modding…” Cat asked nervously.
Waddle didn't even bother looking up from her computer. “Oh, it'll be fine.”
Minutes passed, Waddle doing typical tech-y stuff. Eventually, she looked up at her sister. “Done!” Reset the console and boot up Octo Kart.”
Cat obliged, and the two of them giggled at the goofy mods taking place. Waddle took the control, and picked Sheldon Isles to race around on. Sure enough, the television turned off, and a strange swirl of colours emerged, unswirling once more to become a beach.
“These are some weird precautions Squidtendo put into place-” Cat was freaked out. “Do- do you know what's going on-?”
Waddle was almost as freaked out. “No, not really…”
Then, the two of them were absorbed.

The music was popping, the waves crashed onto the sand in sync with the music, the audience hopped around, humming to the bips and bops of the synthetic music. It was as if DJ Koop had the world revolve around his tunes. And to him, it felt like it. His career was all about his sick beats and stopping them was a detriment to his deafening self, and his fans who wouldn't let the party stop.

Doing this daily like a journal entry
383 words

Instead of actually going outside to touch grass, because there's no one I can find out there, I went downstairs - I know, wow waterfall, you really are pushing yourself to your limits here. So I sat on the couch nearby while my brother was being such a screenager. However, there are some interesting things I learned. And I'm going to recount them here, because of how obscure they are to the viewer, who will likely have no idea what I'm talking about. Some skeletons, though they usually use projectiles as their main weapon, will pull out wooden swords when you get close to them. This is actually very logical of the skeletons when you think about it, because the projectiles will not be able to be shot with as much force right in front of you. Plus, if they're trying to shoot projectiles and you're up close with a sword, they're done for. These wooden swords are not to be underestimated. One weird quirk of this, however, is that this is mostly for aboveground skeletons. Underground skeletons are much less likely to pull out a sword - which is weird, because it would probably be more useful in the tight spaces in the underground tunnels. In addition, if a zombie pulls up with a clock, it will make a baby zombie. I haven't actually seen this one in action, so I don't know how it works, but I guess the clock means it's a pregnant zombie? A zombie with zombie child? Maybe the clock is symbolizing the time that it takes for the baby to be born, i dunno. Or maybe it's just what made sense. How zombies get pregnant and grow children inside of them when they themselves are dead is a whole other question. Of course this all makes no sense to the average reader, who is probably wondering what I'm rambling about. This is assuming anyone actually read this lol - I love leaving little easter eggs in things I write for swc occasionally to see if someone will come by and read my daily haha. I'm not going to tell it here, because it's a mystery, but you should totally contact me and guess, or ask me what it is! I'll tell you then and it'll all finally make sense lol.

◆◇◆◇◆ DEBRIEF 2: BIRTHDAY ◆◇◆◇◆

I would tease them back, but it is their birthday, so I roll my eyes and grin instead.

“Happy birthday dear Emma….Happy birthday to you!”

You blew out the candles, each of the pink candles, and extinguished the fire. I smiled, 13 candles laying on your white cake with blue frosting. It was ice cream cake, you always wanted to have ice cream cake over regular cake for whatever reason. I smiled as you plucked out the candles and put them aside. You thought you were discreet, but I saw you pluck out a few sprinkles from the cake before it was sliced.

When the first slice of cake was sliced, you took it, as you were the birthday girl of course. When the next piece of cake was sliced, I grabbed the plate.

“Of course you took the slice as soon as you could…” You teased me. A million comebacks had already come to me. But, I looked at your party hat, the frosting smudged on your face, the candles discarded on the napkin next to you, I decided against saying anything mean-spirited and just rolled my eyes and smiled.

I sat down, placing a fork into the chocolate side of the cake and took a bite. It tasted the same as always, just different too. Birthday cake usually should all taste the same if they’re the same flavor, but sometimes they still taste a little different for some reason. I didn’t mind.

I looked up to see you smiling, a list of things I could say back to you in my head. Despite it, I grinned, you got a pass for today. I knew you were joking anyways so it didn’t matter if you said something mean.

♖ | 272 words

wind rushed through my loose strands of hair as i ran down the field with the ball, coach's words playing through my head when i came up on a defender.

inside outside, inside outside, scissors. sell it with your shoulders and then go the other direction.

as the centerback lunged for the ball on one side, i skillfully maneuvered it the opposite way, leaving me with a clear path for the goal. before the keeper could come up too close for the ball, i shot it. with my left foot next to the ball, i used my right to kick the ball as hard as i could, aiming for the top left corner as my laces made contact.

instead of going into the net, the ball was driven directly into the crossbar, and it came sailing back at my head before i could react. i fell onto the ground with a screech, my vision blurring. i could hear my teammates running over the help me, their nervous whispers filling me with dread.

“delilah!” my mother called, racing from the bleachers across the field. and then i was out.

“delilah, honey! your alarm has been going off for way too long, you need to get out of bed and start getting ready for the day.”

i rubbed my eyes groggily and yawned. “what time is it?”

“time for you to get moving,” she huffed.