March 2021 - Weekly #1

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Adventure:
The arrow whistles as it slices through the air, almost grazing the tip of my ear. It slams into the cliff face, spewing dust into my eyes. I cough, and as the dust clears I can see the arrow - embedded into the rock just inches before me. I exhale shakily, my hand reaching up for the next ledge on the cliff.
Qlek. Why did he have to be so good at archery? Of course, he didn’t even need the bow - he could send it flying at me with just a flick of his wrist.
“Alizeé! Come on, hurry up!” Cody shouts at me from the ledge. “We don’t have much time!”
Next to him, Isabel reaches out, her hand a tantalizing few inches too far for me to grab. Suddenly, she screams in horror. “Zee, move!”
My head whips around, and my eyes focus on the small object darting towards me:
Another arrow, aimed straight at my heart.

Classics:
“Don’t go too far, dear” Mum called as I set off through the grass.
“No, Mum! I’ll be back soon!”
Swinging my picnic basket, I skip down to the river. The clear, cool breeze and shallow waters are perfect for an afternoon snack. Slowly, I spread the blanket and hop down. Laying on my back, I stare up at the bright blue sky, at the wispy clouds drifting by. Soon, I start to feel sleep overcome me, a drowsy sort of peacefulness.
○
“Alice!”
I blink, annoyed that the voice broke through my restful dream. Then I realize who’s speaking. “Nori!”
Noratir, my best friend, grins down at me. “What were you doing, sleeping like a princess out here?”
I laugh and sit up. “Waiting for you. Come on, let’s eat!”

Contemporary:
“Is this too fast?” I ask Sapphire, looking back for a second at her bright blue eyes and smiling mouth before turning back to the road ahead and taking a left.
“Nope! Go faster!” she laughs, one hand on her hat and the other wrapped around my torso. I grin, and pedal harder. Her grip on me tightens, and I can hear her giggling as the storefronts we pass start to blur.
Soon, we reach our destination - the lake. We coast to a stop, and she hops off while I lock the bicycle at the stands. She takes my hand, our fingers intertwining, and together we set off through the wrought-iron gates.

Dystopian:
“Come one, come all! To the greatest show ever conceived by human minds! But tell me… do you have the strength to win back what you’ve given up?”
The traditional opening to the nightly show on the only channel in Levadis. Who Wants To Win Sleep? was the most popular show, and most families watched it nightly.
Tonight, however, there seemed to be a slightly different type of person playing. A teenage girl. She looked familiar, which was impossible. No one I knew had ever played.
“Come, Iris,” Mother called, patting the space next to her. “We’re waiting for you.”
Father grinned. “Yes, It’s about to come on!”
“Coming, Mother. Coming, Father.”
○
“Great job, Ahana!” the host cried, lifting the girl’s hand up into the air. “You’ve won 24 hours of sleep back!”
Thunderous applause. Ahana’s mouth was spread into a wide grin, and her eyes shone.
“Tell us,” the host said as he let go of her hand. “What do you plan on doing with 24 hours? You’re practically rich now!”
Ahana grinned. “I’ll spend more time with my sister, Iris. She’s just two years younger than me, and I really want to take her-”
Suddenly, two men in black appeared. They grabbed ahold of her arm, and suddenly my mind went blank.
When I came back to reality, Mother and Father were holding their heads and groaning, looking the same way I had felt just then. “What was that?” Father asked, but Mother just shook her head.
“I had the strangest sensation,” she began, looking towards the broadcast screen. “We were just watching, right…?”
The screen was blank.
“I don’t remember watching anything. You must be getting those migraines again,” Father shook his head. “We all are. You know how the Wilsons were last month.”
Mother kept mumbling, and Father led her back upstairs. Instead of following them, however, my gaze strayed to the dark screen hung above our couch.
What was my sister doing on national broadcast?
And why did I not remember her until now?

Fairy Tales:
The little girl looked up from where she was plucking flowers from the ground of her small garden, pulling her red coat tighter. “Yes, mother?”
“Don’t tally any, longer, Echo. Your grandmother is waiting for you.” With a wave of her mother’s hand, Echo was shooed inside. The dark-haired lady picked up a glass container, slipped it inside her daughter’s bag, and led Echo to the door.
“Goodbye, Mum!” Echo laughed, skipping down the driveway.
“Remember, take a left at Harding and walk two blocks!” Echo’s mother called after her. “Grandmother’s house is the blue on just across from the library!”
But Echo was already down the street, her red coat fluttering around her.
Echo walked peacefully, gazing at the sights and scenes around her. She took a left at Harding, like she always did when walking to Grandmother’s house. But today, a large man stood in her path, shaggy hair covering his head.
“Why hello there, child,” he said pleasantly. “That’s a wonderful red coat you’ve got there.” His lips unfurled, revealing sharp teeth in his wide mouth, like a wolf. “Where are you headed today?”

Fantasy:
“Come on, Miyuki,” my cousin Ashtoreth whispers. “You can do this!”
I force myself to look at the bright red gash that covers his arm, the nasty bruise on his left cheek. “I can’t do this. What if it doesn’t work?”
He scoffs. “Oh, come on. You’re the strongest magic-wielder on Terra. Don’t tell me you ‘can’t do this’. I need it to work, anyway.”
I brush my fingertips against his bruise, and he winces. “How did you even get these, anyway?”
“Alder went too far in training. Father’s absolutely livid, I have to make a public appearance in two hours. Please, Miyu,” he begs. “You’ve healed people before. Do it to me now.”
I can’t refuse the hope in his bright brown eyes. I slide my hand onto his arm and sigh. “Ash. I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to heal something like this fast enough.”
“Just try,” he says, his voice lighter with excitement.
I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and focus on where my palm meets his blxxd. I think about how his father, King Phoenix, so badly wants him immaculate and pristine, and how soon he needs to be. I think about all the pain that Ashtoreth must be going through right now. I think, and as I do a warm sensation fills my chest, flowing through my arm and into his.
His soft gasp tells me something's working.
After I can’t feel any more energy passing through, I lift my hand and open my eyes. Ashtoreth is looking at his hand in wonder, at the unbroken skin that just moments ago was split open. He looks at me, and there seems to be no evidence of any bruise on his face. “You did it!”

Historical Fiction (Hi-Fi):
I descend down the ballroom stairs, my long silk gown billowing around me with every step. The crystals in the chandeliers throw the candlelight in various shapes and sizes across the ballroom, mingling with the chatter of various royal figures in gowns and suits.
A thought makes me pause. They’re all here for me.
As I reach the base of the staircase, the announcer clears his throat. “Princess Aly of Goldheart Kingdom!”
Hushed murmurs spread through the crowd, the light clinks of champagne glasses stilling. I can feel the weight of the gazes that rest on me - an entire ballroom full of them - and heat rises to my cheeks.
Suddenly, my older sister, Rose appears in front of me. “Come on,” she whispers. “Mum, for once, is sitting still, and Father’s absolutely tied up waiting for you.”
The thought of Mum actually composing herself - she’s much better at it than she seems, but it doesn’t happen often (unless, of course, there are as many people around as there are now) - brings a smile to my face, and I hurry off after her.
After all, it is my 21st birthday they’re waiting to celebrate.

Horror:
The bear’s dark eyes glinted in the moonlight. “We will not harm you. That is guaranteed.”
Suddenly, my phone screen lit up. On it, a text message:

ʙᴇᴀʀ
ᴡᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀʀᴍ ʏᴏᴜ.

I swallowed, and stepped forward.
○
Crud. Why had I trusted that stxpid teddy bear? As if a silly text message would prove anything.
I can only hear the sound of my own breathing and my footsteps echoing on the dark metal corridor, its width slowly narrowing in size. The husky words emanating from the entrance play like a broken record in my mind:
It’s not safe there, girl. It’s not safe there, girl.
It’s not safe there, girl.
Not safe.
Not safe.
Not safe.
Suddenly, I hear a creak.
A dripping sound.
Tap
Not water.
Tip tip tap
It’s heavier than water.
Tap tap
A thought crosses my mind:
Tip tap tap tip
Blxxd is thicker than water.
I’ve stopped walking, yet my heart is pounding.
The sound of footsteps, getting louder with each second that ticks by.
The bear promised. The bear promised.
I swear I’ve stopped moving, breathing, thinking, being.
Promised.
The sound of a metal grate being wrenched open.
A scream fills the air.

Mystery:

t/c/gw: may contain scenes upsetting to some, please proceed with caution

The most recent disappearance case is right before me, but I’ve never seen a situation quite like this.
The walls of the mirrored room are awash in blxxd. Three bodies lay on the floor - one of a young girl, with pale skin and scarlet hair, and another of a young man, likely in his late twenties, with dark skin and even darker hair, like that of wood.
Both are completely slxughtered. Their bodies are nothing but flesh rxpped open and blxxd seeping through torn fabric.
The third person, however, is more mysterious. She looks to be about as old as a college graduate, and she has a simple gxsh across her neck. But it’s quite a fatal one - cxts open a major artery. No other visible injuries, yet her hands are covered in blxxd, and a knxfe lies just inches from her palm.
I bend down to get a closer look. Her bright emerald eyes are wide open, staring farther into me than anyone or anything has ever done before. She has chestnut-brown hair and fair skin. The epitome of beauty, were dxath not so cruelly painted across her.
Then, I see it - around her wrists and neck, rope burns. Like someone tied her up, and tied them tight.
Who would do such a thing? And, more importantly - why?
“Document this,” I say to my assistant. “We’ve got a major breakthrough in the case, and we’ve only just started.”

Mythology:
The humans are relentless.
Minute after minute, day after day, week after week, they plea and beg and hope for some sort of miracle solution to their woes.
It does them no good, frankly.
I hop on a cloud and fly over to Eiru’s estate - a stately manor-sort of dwelling made of cool dirt and emerald-green grass, that somehow manages to look inexplicably exquisite. “Eiru!”
She comes out, graceful as the wind as it guides a snowflake to the ground. “Yes?”
“Take care of those humans, won’t you? They’re forever begging for rain. They are the ones who brought this drought upon themselves! Teach them a lesson! Swallow them up in an earthquake or something!”
She puts a hand on my shoulder. “But it is only you who can appease them, Lord of Water.”
I groan. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though. Those humans are paying for it.”

Non-Fiction (Non-Fi):
The common bottlenose dolphin is a mammal, and the most commonly recognized type of dolphin. Other members of the dolphin family include killer whales, river dolphins, spinner dolphins, the short-finned pilot whale, and others. Its diet consists of mostly fish, eels, squid, and shrimp. They use echolocation to determine their surroundings, and sound is a very large factor in how they communicate. They live in very social groups, ranging from just a pair to hundreds, even thousands at times. Common bottlenose dolphins are usually gray and can weigh anywhere between 150 and 650 kgs, while males are usually larger and heavier than females.
Source: Common Bottlenose Dolphin - Wikipedia

Poem:
The still water
Of the lake
Used to guide her
Now it leaves an ache
Bright as the sky
It once was joy
Now pain is all that flies by
A beautiful tool meant to destroy
She will never forget
His body that slipped beneath the ice
Now it is regret
That carves her slice by slice
Empty, hollow,
Once so full of life
Now she is only sorrow
The painfully sharp edge of the knxfe
Darkness envelops her
Her mind in shambles and pieces
Her happy memories all just a blur
The numbness never ceases

Sister lied,
Brother dxed.

Realistic Fiction (Real-Fi):
The key turns in the lock, and I grasp the cold metal doorknob. Twisting it slowly, I wrench the door to my home open.
“Hello?”
No one replies. I’d half expected it, but there was a small part of me that had hoped my parents would be there to welcome me.
Sighing, I drop my backpack against the coffee table and wash my hands. Drying them on my towel, I look out at the half-closed blinds.
Well, guess I’m stuck here alone.
○
It’s 10 o’clock. Practically the middle of the night.
And they’re still not home.
Tears stream down my cheeks and into the fabric of Bacon, my stuffed toy dog.
What could have happened to them?

Science Fiction (Sci-Fi):

c/gw: may contain scenes upsetting to some, please proceed with caution

The sun is as bright as the lavender sky as it streams through my window and onto my face. The birds are chirping, the breeze is cool and faint against my hands - but nothing could change the fact that the world is trying to put on a show.
A show to hopelessly distract us from cruel reality.
Ever since the new disease took over the planet, the Dark Sickness, people have been reduced to nothing but animals. Rationed food, limited supplies.
The bxdies.
The bxdies piled up in the streets, rxtting flesh spilling off withered bxnes.
And that’s not even the start of it all.

Thriller:
He laughs - a hollow, empty sound that sends shivers down my spine. “Come on now. Give it up. It does you no good, keeping it.”
“No!” I shout, gripping my sword tighter. If I give it to him, the entirety of Elmandrea is lost. “You will never have it.”
“Pity,” he says, holding up his hand. A small ball of energy begins to form. “Then it seems to be that we are at an impasse.”
And with that, he launches the ball at me.
I doge the glob of energy, but not before it singes the tips of my hair. He laughs, and a burnt, acrid smell fills my lungs. “That was just a small trailer.” His mouth twists in an unnatural, grotesque way. “Shall I show you the movie?”
With a twist of his hand, I’m flung against the broken remains of a concrete wall. My head snaps back, and for a moment I see nothing but stars. Suddenly, I can feel a hand brush at my throat, and the chain around my neck snaps. I shoot up, breathing hard and slightly dizzy.
He holds a small vial in his fingers - the same one that hung around my neck. He grins sadistically at me. “Well, well, well. And to think that you fought-” he pauses. “So hard.”
I grit my teeth, and charge.

March 2021 - Weekly #2

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Part I:

cw: may contain themes intended for mature audiences

Dear Sapphire,
Hey…how have you been? Miyuki and Ainara tell me I’ve caused quite the commotion both back home and in other places…and let’s just say Miyu “strongly dislikes” me for it.
Sapphire, I’m sorry. I really am sorry. I feel like such an idiot. I’m sorry I caused you to worry so much. I’m sorry I was being stxpid and didn’t seek help earlier like Miyu said I should have. And what I am really really really sorry about is not telling you about all this earlier.
So, I guess I’ll start from the beginning…
When my father was around my age, he was diagnosed with a genetic respiratory illness called glycomisetia, also abbreviated as GCS. It is a disease that, over time, causes the airways in the lungs to become inflamed. That means that air can't pass through efficiently enough to supply oxygen to the body. Effects and symptoms include wheezing, excessive coughing, prolonged fatigue, and in the most severe cases, coughing up blxxd. It is somewhat similar to another well-known condition - tuberculosis. The main difference, however, is that tuberculosis is caused by bacteria and usually lasts about three weeks, while GCS is caused by a genetic mutation in DNA and can last for various amounts of time, depending on the severity.
Neither Petal nor Ainara have the disease, but when I was twelve, I was diagnosed with it. Earlier than my father had been. I’d had to live with it for a couple of years, or until doctors said they had found a temporary cure not long before my fifteenth birthday.
Which is why I have been okay, up until recently.
So what happened, with all of my health “failing” over the past two years? That was my disease relapsing, breaking through my already-fragile “cure”. Doctors don’t know why it happened, but something caused that temporary cure to just…fizzle out, I guess. And… I dunno, I just feel so stxpid for not realizing any of this earlier.
Doctors say they are working on something to help me but… I want a permanent cure so badly. I want it so much it makes me feel guilty and selfish. I don’t want to keep on suffering like this, keep on making you all suffer. But I don’t know what I’ll do if they say, “Here’s another temporary cure! No guarantee how long it’ll work for, and you might die the next time ‘cause this time was so much worse than the last time, right?”
…I just want this disease to be gone.
Forever.
I just want to be normal.
Haha, looks like I ranted a lot… maybe a bit too much. But I suppose it’s because I’m sorry that I never told you about any of this… you have a right to know, and I never fulfilled that right. You had to find out elsewhere, and I feel so guilty for it. But in truth… it was because I was scared. Scared of how you might react. Scared of how you would look at me once you knew… Part of me asked, would you still come to me so eagerly, once I told you? Would you still show me all your kindness and compassion that I selfishly keep on accepting once you found out that all I am is just a weak misfit that was never meant to rule a kingdom? Even now, after knowing you for so long, your reaction is what I fear the most. Because the last time I told this to someone I loved, she immediately saw me as what I said earlier:
A freak.
A mxnster.
Remember Grey from last year, when he called you a freak? Later, when you asked me who that “sick prince” he was talking about was, I should've just told you… it was me. He was talking about me. But you’ve most likely already guessed. Even though you said that you would “love me no matter what" probably a million times, a part of me wondered if you were only saying that to be nice. A stxpid, selfish part of me, but a part of me nonetheless.
You know, sometimes I ask… why am I even here? In this world? Everyone I know, everyone I cherish… doesn’t deserve a person like me. No matter how hard I try… it still feels like it’s never enough.
Oh lord, I guess I’m still not back to normal, am I? I've been throwing up all day long for the past few days, and I’m exhausted just from writing all this…then again, I was never normal, was I? Anyway. I just wanted to…explain all this properly to you. Because you deserve to know. And if you don’t want to see me again, after knowing this… I understand. And if you do choose that, I won’t hold it against you. Because others have chosen that, and I know why. But if you choose to accept me for who I am, and continue with how we are… that would mean the world to me. The world, and more.
Love, Ash
(P.S. also if you have any questions feel free to write them back? I know you came over for a bit [please don’t do that again I’m not worth leaving your kingdom for, you’re a queen Sapphie, remember that] but I’m not sure how much of this you already know so uh yeah)
(P.P.S. I'm sorry this letter is so grim. When we meet again, I promise to allow you to punish me however you like for making you worry. I swear.)
(P.P.P.S. Don't kill me though. I'll miss you.)
(P.P.P.P.S. Will I actually be able to miss you in the afterlife though? I don’t know, that just sounds painful.)
(P.P.P.P.P.S. ok ok bai for real this time ily <3)

Part II:
Sleep is something so mysterious. Drowsy yet at peace, something everyone wants yet has little time for in their hectic lives.
Not that I don’t like sleep. Sleep is great.
The only problem is, I’m given the most annoying awakening ever every single morning, yet no one cares.
This morning is no different. I snap into reality with a wet, slobbery tongue frantically licking my face. It’s Blaze, my grandmother’s fire wolf.
“Blaze!” I scold him, sitting up in bed and groaning. “Gods, what time is it?”
Blaze barks energetically. It’s early!
Evelynn, my handmaid and best friend, pokes her head in through the doorway. “Good morning, Princess Miyuki!”
I smile at her. Evelynn is such a cheerful person to see, and she’s always the first person I wake up to. “Morning, Evelynn. What’s the time?”
Evelynn glances at the weak early morning sunlight streaming in through the balcony, then at the clock on the wall. “Around six. You’re not expected downstairs until seven-thirty, however.”
I sigh, wrapping my blanket closer around me and getting up from the bed. I make my way across my room to the softly flapping lace curtains around the balcony and pull them back. The sunlight bouncing around my room brightens, and I step outside. The fresh morning air swirls around my face, lifting the ends of my hair as I rest my arms on the railing.
My room is on the third floor of the castle, as are all the other sleeping quarters. From here, I can see all the way from the farms along the city borders to the largest open-air market of Adenora, the capital city of Goldheart Kingdom: the kingdom my family rules.
Evelynn steps out beside me. “Lovely sight.”
“I never get tired of it,” I smile at her. “Let’s go back inside. I'd better start getting ready.”
I step inside as Evelynn opens the doors to my wardrobe. After brushing my teeth, using the restroom, and taking a bath, I finally come back into my room. Evelynn has set out a cream-white dress with satin sleeves for me, and I change quickly.
“Are you done, your highness?” she asks from outside my sleeping chambers.
“Yes,” I say.
With a flourish, she steps inside, and ties up the back of my dress. “When will you tie your dresses yourself?” Evelynn chides as she pushes me to the dressing table. “You’re eighteen, Miyuki.”
As much as I’ve tried, I can never tie the laced strings properly. “Someday?”
I can see her shake her head in the mirror. She runs a comb through my dark hair, twisting it into a complicated braid around my head, as I dust some light makeup on. “There,” she announces as I finish up, satisfied. “You’re all set.”
I grin at her, standing up. “Let’s get going!”

Part III:
Ashtoreth - Miyuki
Ashtoreth and Miyuki are more like twins than cousins. Always together since their early childhood, they find solace and comfort knowing that in times of strife they can turn to each other for support. Ashtoreth, the crown prince of Animalia Kingdom, is two years older than Miyuki, the crown princess of Goldheart Kingdom. Their mothers, Queen Rose and Queen Aly, are sisters. Although Ash has had his struggles with his medical condition (Miyu ironically having healing powers but can’t use them on Ash because his condition is genetic), it would be an understatement to say that they are always there for each other.

Ashtoreth - Ainara
Ashtoreth and Ainara are not your usual set of siblings. Though being the crown princess of Animalia Kingdom at the time, Ainara was kidnapped when she was five years old, and forced to live with a dictator/tyrant in an alternate universe. With Aina presumed dxad, the entire kingdom’s memories of her were wiped and Ash, only four, became the eldest and crown prince. Many years later, when Ash was seventeen, due to a lot of intertwining circumstances (that included Aina’s captor being the ex-best friend of Ash’s best friend at the time) Aina was freed, and was reunited with Ash, who (along with the rest of the kingdom) got his memories restored. Their younger sister, Petal, also found out that she had an older sister (she wasn’t born yet when Aina disappeared), but that’s a story for next time. Ainara, while in captivity for the better part of thirteen years, turned to humor and way-too-crazy optimism as a way of coping (not to mention magic), and those years reflect on her personality now. Ashtoreth, in contrast, is the more guarded, “don’t-do-that-it’s-dangerous” type of person, having been guarded his entire life. However, they both love each other very much and are always ready to support the other in any way necessary.

Melody - Lily
Just like how Melody’s father, Ashtoreth, and Lily’s mother, Miyuki, were close cousins, the same is evident in Mel and Lily. Although they are at different rankings in the royal hierarchy (Lily is heir to the throne of Goldheart Kingdom, like her mother, as she has no siblings; Melody is a duchess due to her being the youngest of three girls), they are always together, and their families have come to expect no less. Lily loves Melody for her bright optimism and overall cheerfulness, and Melody admires Lily for her elegance and secret humor/playfulness, and their bond only grows closer as time passes.

March 19, 2021 - Daily

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Part 1:
I bounced in my seat impatiently, wondering, waiting, hoping that I’d be on the list.
What list, you ask?
The list of who got accepted to the first round of World’s Best Dancer, that’s what.
WBD is the most famous reality dance show, hosted by XYZ (also known as the biggest streaming channel ever). It’s watched worldwide, and the chance to be accepted into it is just- a huge, no- monumental honor.
Not to mention, the grand prize isn’t bad.
Not bad at all.
I mean, if a hundred grand doesn’t cut it, I don’t know what would.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’ve won several other minor competitions. Been practicing dance for years and years and years, since I was six. And I’m pretty sure I did okay during auditions.
I don’t know why I’m shaking like the temperature is in the negatives.
Which it’s not, by the way.
I look at the clock. Three more minutes. Three more minutes until the results are announced, at exactly noon.
Three more minutes of living torture.
I haven’t eaten anything. I’m too nervous to eat, think, breathe. My mind is a complete sheet of blank terror.
I want so badly to get in. It would mean so, so much: that is, my future. My future as a dancer would be sealed, fulfilling a dream I’ve had since even before I started dance in the first place. To become a dancer, to have a high-ranking position in the entertainment field. I don’t know, maybe even movies? Anything that needs dancing, I want to do. I want to show the world my skills, what I’m capable of doing - and World’s Best Dancer is, to me, the best way to do just that.
I look back at the clock.
One minute.
I can only hope.

304 words


Part 2:
I bounce in my seat, one part of me inexplicably impatient, and the other part full of apprehension. Only one thought is running through my head:
I need to get in. I need to get in.
I need to get in.
Get into what, you ask?
World’s Best Dancer, that’s what.
WBD is the most famous, and prestigious in a sense, reality dance show, hosted by XYZ (also known as the biggest streaming channel ever). It’s watched all over the world, and the chance to be accepted into it is just a huge- no, monumental honor.
But it’s not just honor, or even fame that I want. Though they would be nice.
I’m doing this for my mother. My sweet, caring, amazing mother who doesn’t deserve to be in the hospital right this very moment, undergoing treatment for a condition she never wanted.
Not like anyone ever wants any sort of medical problems, but still.
Images of her flash through my mind like cameras taking pictures - her at my first dance recital, cooking my favorite food, cheering me on when I won my first dance competition. Then: her pained face, her headaches that only grew worse day by day, the moment when my parents didn’t come home until nearly midnight because she was admitted to the hospital.
That’s when we knew.
Tears float to my eyes and I blink hard, trying to clear them from my eyes. World’s Best Dancer would help my dad pay for her treatment and hospital bills, and I’d be able to contribute with the money I’d earned with my skills.
This is why I need to get in, so badly. The grand prize is one hundred thousand dollars - imagine what wonders that much money could do.
I glance at the clock. One minute until noon.
One minute until results.
I think of my mother and take a deep breath.

316 words
total: 620 words

March 20, 2021 - Daily

✧×✧

cw: may contain themes intended for mature audiences

Scared/Apprehensive:
The emergency alarm. I drop my current “task” - “fixing” wires outside of Security - and race to the cafeteria.
On my way, I’m joined by Blue, from the Upper Engine. They give me a nod, and together we run past the sealed doors of Med Bay and arrive at the emergency meeting table. Around the table, I can see that Pink, Green, Lime, White, and Black have already assembled.
“Quickly!” Pink waves their- now that I think about it, the voice sounds feminine - her hand at us. “We’re just waiting for Red, Brown, and- and Cyan.”
As if on cue, Red and Brown skid into the Cafeteria. I can hear Red wheezing as they put a hand on the table. “Is Cyan missing?”
Pink swallows. “Dxad. Found them in Electrical, with a knxfe wxund in their back. That’s why I called emergency.”
Oh, no. Right now, I’m grateful no one was watching cams in Security, but it looks like I’ll need to be more careful.
I decide to play pretend. “Anyone sus?”
Please, don’t say Purple.
White clears their throat. “Lime was with me in Nav. I can vouch for their safety.”
Lime nods. “White is safe too! We were alone in Nav, and we didn’t die.”
Red turns to look at White. “Really? How can we be sure? For all that we know, you two could be working together.”
Lime holds up her hand, like she wants to say something, but lets it fall again. Relief flows through me. I can blame her if things get… touchy.
“Hey, Pink,” Black’s voice is deep, like a boy. “Didn’t you say we were waiting for Red, Brown, and Cyan? Well, you just said Cyan is dead. How do we know you’re not self-reporting?”
“I wanted to wait for Red and Brown, to see what they would do,” she retorts. “I’m not the kxller!”
I bite my lip, though no one can see. This is so messed up. What’s going to happen?

Suspicious:
The shrill alarm sounds. Great. An emergency already.
I slip the wrench I’d been holding into a toolkit, stow it into the compartment in the wall next to me, and sprint out of Upper Engine. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Purple round the corner. Giving them a nod, we enter the Cafeteria - and approach Green, Lime, Pink, Black, and White.
“Quickly!” Pink flails a hand at us. “We’re just waiting for Red, Brown, and- and Cyan.”
As we arrive at the table, Red and Brown dash in, clearly winded. Red speaks first: “Is Cyan missing?”
Or dxad?
Pink confirms my thoughts: “Dxad. Found them in Electrical, with a knxfe wxund in their back. That’s why I called emergency.”
Beside me, Purple inhales sharply. Almost like a gasp of surprise.
Almost.
Not quite fully.
“Anyone sus?” Purple asks, taking a deep breath. Her voice sounds feminine, like Pink.
White shakes his head. “Lime was with me in Nav. I can vouch for their safety.”
Lime nods in response. “White is safe too! We were alone in Nav, and we didn’t die.”
Red turns on his heel, looking at White. “Really? How can we be sure? For all that we know, you two could be working together.”
They both fall silent, Lime motioning that she wants to say something but letting it drop.
Purple sighs. Strange.
“Hey, Pink,” Black’s voice is deep and laced with distrust. “Didn’t you say we were waiting for Red, Brown, and Cyan? Well, you just said Cyan is dead. How do we know you’re not self-reporting?”
Pink’s response could have been fire itself. “I wanted to wait for Red and Brown, to see what they would do. I’m not the kxller!”
Purple hasn’t volunteered anything. Neither have many, for that matter, but she still seems a little… off.
Maybe I should keep an eye on her. Just in case.

Distrustful:
The emergency alarm has sounded, and I’m the first one in the room. Other than Pink, who must have called the meeting. One by one, the others arrive: Green, Lime and White, Purple and Blue, Red and Brown.
“Is Cyan missing?” Red asks right off the bat. Almost like he knows something.
Pink swallows hard. “Dxad. Found them in Electrical, with a knxfe wxund in their back. That’s why I called emergency.”
Purple shifts slightly. “Anyone sus?”
Usually, the people who ask that are the ones who have committed the crime.
White immediately clears his throat, shaking his head. “Lime was with me in Nav. I can vouch for their safety.”
Lime nods furiously. “White is safe too! We were alone in Nav, and we didn’t die.”
I’m about to speak when Red bursts out, “Really? How can we be sure? For all that we know, you two could be working together.”
Interesting. Quick to talk and quick to blame. Definitely filing that away for future reference.
“Hey, Pink,” I say suddenly, an idea blooming in my mind. “Didn’t you say we were waiting for Red, Brown, and Cyan? Well, you just said Cyan is dead. How do we know you’re not self-reporting?”
Pink turns on me, anger evident in the way she’s twitching. “I wanted to wait for Red and Brown, to see what they would do. I’m not the kxller!”
Everyone is suspicious, no matter what they say. Red talks fast, White and Lime could be collaborating, Pink might be trying to pin the blame, and the rest haven’t said anything.
Anyone could be the kxller here. I can’t trust any of them.

March 2021 Writing Competition Entry

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https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/post/5040596/

March 28, 2021 - Daily

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“You…”
“Uh-huh.”
“But that-”
“Yep.”
“So then- ?!”
“In all probability? Yes.”
I groaned, feeling like I had been hit with a 20-ton truck. My mind felt cloudy and my eyes felt heavy - likely effects of whatever had put me to sleep earlier. Slowly, I opened my eyes.
My vision was fuzzy, but the room I seemed to be in was as dark as the ocean on a night with no moon. I could feel scratchy wood underneath me, and something covering my mouth, like a cloth, which seemed to be tied around my head.
It took me a moment to realize that having a cloth tied around my mouth was a bad thing.
I tried moving my feet and hands, but with no luck - they were bound tight.
Dimly, I remembered two people talking - one sounding surprised, another sounding like they knew something and weren't happy about it, and something about probability. What could it mean?
My mind was too fuzzy to comprehend anything. I closed my eyes and fell into a restless sleep.
☆
“Celeste. Get up.”
A sharp nudge to my ribcage brought me to reality. As I opened my eyes, I realized a few things. One, I wasn't gagged like I had been earlier. Two, I was in a different, smaller room, and even though it was still dark like the other one had been, there was the faint haze of distant light. Three, blocking a majority of the light was the silhouette of a man, directly in front of me.
“Celeste,” the man said again, and I realized two things again. One, this voice was one I had heard before, talking to someone about probability - the voice that didn't sound happy. Two, for some reason I felt like this person's voice was familiar. But I couldn't place how.
“W-who are you?” I asked frantically, my words slurred slightly. “How d-do you know who I am?”
He ignores my question. “Do you remember how you got here?”
All I can remember is darkness, the room from earlier, and a faint conversation. Nothing about how I got here. “No.”
“Good,” he nods, yet his voice sounds slightly irritated.
“Where am I?” I ask, trying to sit up. It's hard, but I somehow manage.
He doesn't offer a hand. “Somewhere.”
Well, that's just helpful.
He turns on his heel, muttering to himself. "There's someone trying to find you. Already. The nerve of some people.“
Suddenly, a memory flashes into my head. I was standing by the water's edge, when a person's hands flung a rag over my face. Then darkness, and waking up on the room from earlier.
”You- You kidnapped me!“ I shout frantically. ”What are you going to do to me?"
He turns around, and the one thing I can see is his eyes, blazing with fury.

March 2021 - Weekly #4

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Step One - Setting:
Castela is a quaint little town tucked away in the valleys just by the ocean - yet it’s not a very “flooded” tourist destination, it’s more of a local treasure - and is known *locally* for its charm and old-fashioned / vintage elegance.
Wave Quarter: light, frothy waves crashing against sandy beaches, ebb and flow creating a sort of constant bang-swishhhh sound, pale midday skies blanketed in clouds most of the year, mist (that somehow lets sunshine and bits of bright sky in) scouring even the tops of the tallest buildings (note - the tallest building is four stories), old docks covered in algae and barnacles at the water level, a few boats tethered to the docks and shore
Blue Sabre: *small* cobblestoned paths, winding alleys, perhaps even Spanish / Portuguese influences in architectural / building styles, sleepy little cafes overlooking sea, pastel cloth overhangs above doors and windows, flowerpots and plants in all sorts of colors and hues and sizes
Feijoa Flower: Mediterranean climate, equatorial seasonal plants, Feijoa / Pineapple Guava plants are a huge part of local culture plus those trees pepper the town, making for an especially vibrant setting all year round (they’re evergreen), lots of grass and small shrubs / plants around the “outskirts” of town, more valley and plains visible as you get father out from the center of town

Step Two - Characters:
Tropical Starfruit - Celeste is a girl much fitting the description of her candle: she loves summer, she’s the niece of one of the local market merchants (she lives with her uncle and aunt), pineapple is her favorite fruit, and “sun-kissed” is a good way to describe her looks when she comes back home in the evening, after a whole day of exploring and running around Castela: sun-tanned skin, messy dark hair in a low ponytail or braid, bright sea-green eyes. She usually wears sleeveless / off-shoulder dresses (often white or any pastel color), her favorite color is white, and her favorite bird is the falcon.
The top notes of the candle - juicy grapefruit, pineapple, and ocean breeze accord - make me think of a girl who is smooth yet subtly strong, like the ocean on a calm day with a light breeze. She’s usually almost naturally sweet, but when she’s sour she is sour. Like she will literally not look at you for days. Sour and salty when angry - grapefruit and the ocean shore during a storm.
The middle notes, jasmine, lily, and starfruit, makes me imagine she always has a flower in her hair somewhere, and she loves them too - especially jasmine, which she always smells like (along with ocean air) and there’s jasmine outside her bedroom window. She likes picking flowers and letting them dry out between pages of books, so that they’re preserved / dried out but still keep their scent. She also likes to daydream, and can spend anywhere between minutes to an hour in her fantasies - her record is two hours. Which practically ended up being a nap on the beach, but she’s not one to admit defeat easily.
The base notes of vanilla, agave, and plum make me wonder if, underneath her carefree and happy exterior, she has flaws and / or contrasting qualities… plum especially makes me think of dark, slightly tart qualities… perhaps secrets? Insecurity about looks, fear of new people / strangers, unwillingness towards change and trying new things, not admitting defeat when she should (pride) as mentioned above, are some.

Crisp Campfire Apples - Ji-Hun is a boy who is very similar to his candle - his favorite fruit is apples, he is a complete night owl, and he loves baking. His family is from South Korea, but currently, he is staying with a family friend in Madrid and works in said family friend’s detective agency firm. He has dark brown hair, fair skin, black eyes, usually wears dress shirts and pants, his favorite color is red, and his favorite animal is the owl.
The top and middle notes of apple, clove, mandarin leaf, cinnamon stick, and oak leaves make me think of a boy who has visible strength but hidden fragility and elegance underneath. He has a sense of stability and an air of “don’t-worry-I’ve-got-this” to anyone who looks on the outside, but on the inside he has surprising sweetness and compassion.
The base notes of tonka and blonde woods (tonka has a taste/scent like vanilla and almonds, while blonde woods would have an almost spicy and fruity texture) has me imagining a guy with a seemingly surprising hidden personality - energetic and happy, yet the “spicy” notes (and the fact that tonka is actually illegal in the US :0) have me imagining some negative qualities too - a temper that doesn’t take much to ignite, for one.

Step Three - Story:

I don't know Spanish so sorry if this is inaccurate haha-

“I'll find her and bring her home, I promise.”
Those were the words I had said to her parents a few days ago, grief-stricken and teary that they were. I remember sitting in their apartment in Seville, hearing their soft sobs and looking at the way they clutched each other, drawing strength from the person sitting next to them in order to deal with the terrible news they’d just been confronted with.
And now I’m saying those very words to her aunt and uncle.
“You will find mi sobrina, mi Celeste?” her aunt breathes, tears flowing down her face. “You are an angel, good sir.”
Me? An angel? Hardly. I’m even around the age of their niece. But I smile, like that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, and squeeze her hand reassuringly. “I will try my best.”
Of course, there’s always the possibility that she won’t be found, for several reasons, and the majority of them end up quite graphic. But I shut my eyes momentarily, saying a quick prayer to hope that won’t be the case.
And that’s right- her aunt’s words call back a piece of information to the forefront of my mind, as I draw back and take out a notepad and pen from my pocket.
Celeste. Her name is Celeste. I remember seeing the name from the case file Basilio, Father’s longtime school friend and my current employer, gave me. And the photo her parents showed me - dark, messy, shoulder blade-length hair in a braid, sea-green eyes, sun-tanned skin, the brightest smile.
“I’ll need to ask you some questions,” I uncap my pen and hold it over the blank notepad.
Her uncle nods, squeezing his wife’s hand. “Of course.”
“Where was she last seen or headed to, to the best of your knowledge?”
Celeste’s uncle looks thoughtful, though I don’t know how it manages to show through his puffy, red eyes. “The last time I saw her… Well. Every weekend, after finishing her chores, she usually just goes out.”
“Out? Where?” I ask, jotting that note of information down.
Her aunt jumps in. “Around Castela.” Briefly, I recall that Castela is the name of the little town we’re in. “When my husband is out selling fruits and vegetables and various other items, she usually wanders the streets, and spends a lot of time by the ocean.”
I write all that down in hurried, messy letters. “Where in Castela?”
They exchange a glance. “We don’t know where she’ll be,” her uncle admitted, looking rather sheepish. “She might be in Elacanta Square one hour and be walking on the docks the next. She might be helping out in my shop one minute and the next second, she’ll have run out to catch a seagull passing by. She’s wildly unpredictable, and,” Celeste’s uncle has a wistful smile on his face, “that’s what makes mi sobrina special.”
Parental figures. Always so emotional about the people they take care of.
But that’s what they’re supposed to do, aren’t they?
Listening to Celeste’s parents, aunt, and uncle is making me realize how much I envy her. My own “parents” never really showed me this kind of love. It was always my younger half-sister Hayul they buttered up, showering her with praise and love. I was the “other child”, the “boy from the other marriage”.
My father was happy with his new family. He didn’t need me, the remainder and reminder of his old one.
It was why I devoted myself, so much of myself, to my work. I became interested in detective work, detective investigation to be specific. After I graduated college, my father grudgingly asked his friend, Basilio, to take me in and to give me a job in his detective agency firm. Basilio did, but there were some setbacks. One, his wife most certainly did not like the fact that I existed, in their home, taking up space and time and energy meant for other things - namely, her two kids. Two, it’s not often you see a Korean in Madrid, where Basilio’s office was - and one could only imagine what sorts of problems would arise from that.
Suddenly, I realize Celeste’s aunt and uncle are staring at me, and that the room has gone silent - save for the chirping of birds outside the window. My face turns hot and I hurriedly scramble to write down more information. “Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts for a moment.”
Her uncle sits back against the couch. “Of course.”
Her aunt speaks up now. “You- you can find her, right?”
I take another look at their faces. Grief, worry, fear - all etched across their faces. But also: hope. I sigh. “Hopefully.”
The aunt lets out a small sob at that, but the uncle shushes her.
I look out the window. The sun is nearly gone. I stand up, tucking the notepad into my pocket and clicking the tip of the pen back in. “Well. It’s getting late, and if you’ll excuse me, I’ll let you gather your thoughts. I might have to come back tomorrow morning.” Forget might, I’ll probably have to. I have no clue as to where I should start searching.
Celeste’s aunt nods, wringing her hands together. “Thank you, Mister…”
“Yun.” I hold out my hands for a handshake. “Ji-Hun Yun.”
Both her aunt and uncle shake my hand, and I pull on my coat. But in the process, I accidentally knock over a book standing on a small table. It clatters to the floor, pages rustling open then snapping shut onto one side. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” I exclaim, picking up the book. But just as I’m about to hand it to them, something catches my eye.
A small white petal, sticking out from one of the pages.
I flip to the page. Sitting just above the book crease is a beautiful white lily, pressed and preserved to near perfection. I pick it up, holding it up to the light in wonder.
“Celeste did that,” her uncle says. I look over to him, and he’s smiling. “At least every book in this house has five flowers in it,” he chuckles. “She loves pressing flowers. She brings home quite a few.”
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, turning it. Every nuance is captured in the wrinkled petals. It is, to put it frankly, a work of art.
“Isn’t it?” the aunt beams. She’s so proud, I can see it radiating off of her like light.
I nod, smiling at her. Carefully, I place the flower back where it was and set the book on the table. “Thank you. Have a good evening,” I back out of the small house, and shut the door behind me. I can hear it being locked, and I set off into the night, to my hotel room.

July 6, 2021 - Daily

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Aight, listen here you little human. The name’s Clamat (short for Exclamation, if your measly mind couldn’t figure out), and I’m going to give you a little explanation on exclamations!

Now, you all like to use me and my fellow ‘clamation marks to show some pretty strong emotions, like excitement! or anger! Like “Wow!” or “Oh no!” or “He’s done for!” But sometimes, you can’t really tell which emotion is being conveyed if you don’t have context. For example: “Come here, Character!” could be interpreted in many different ways - “Come here, Character!” shouted the author excitedly, or angrily, or fearfully, et cetera!

(Bonus: “Come here, Character!” shouted the author. “Let me put you in another death-defying situation!”
“Oh no!” The aforementioned Character groaned. “Not again!”)

But. But but but but but but- it isn’t all rainbows and unicorns, no no no. Humans love using me in excessives! Like this!! Or this!!! Or even this!!!! And god forbid this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you know how tiring it is for me, obeying your every beck and call? It’s not easy, you know! And you humans don’t even seem to care! And don’t even get me started on being pushed up against cocky Question, oh gods. Why do you make us do this!? And this?!?!?!?! And the worst one of all, the “interrobang”‽ I cringe at the very thought, yet you all dare have the nerve to call them “exciting” and “fun”. They’re such an arrogant punctuation mark, always bragging about how they’re one of the most important sentence types and all that other nonsense. AND YOU MAKE ME STAND WITH THEM! Betrayal, I say! Exclamations are far more superior! And yet Question gets all the attention… hmph. Overrated.

But it’s not all bad. It’s… actually pretty fun being a punctuation mark. Comma’s really funny, and Apostophe is stubborn but makes the best cupcakes. Period is like everyone’s go-to mark for advice, and everyone else, like Colon and Semicolon (the twins), are amazing as well.

Well, that’s it for me today. Thanks for listening. See you next time!

July 8, 2021 - Daily

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๑ Kichona ๑

I find him sitting on the rooftop of the shed. Utterly alone.

How long has he been sitting here for?

“Hey, Akash,” I say, hauling myself off the ladder and onto the tin roof.

He doesn’t turn around. “Hey.”

I look towards where he seems to be looking: the dark sea, the cliffs awash in moonlight. “Kalyna said you might be here.”

“Yeah?” He exhales, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. “I thought I saw her standing by the fire earlier.”

I look at him again - or rather, his silhouette. “The fire was extinguished ages ago. It’s nearly midnight, Akash.”

He turns at this, finally looking at me. His eyes are red, like he’s been crying. “Is it?”

“Yeah. What are you doing out here? You should be asleep.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I was on guard duty for the past two hours.” I take a step forward cautiously, not wanting to fall off the small roof. “Nina’s up now. After her is Savio, then daybreak, so we leave.”

He holds out a hand and helps me sit down next to him. “So no one asked me if I wanted to do it?”

I shrug. “Kalyna makes the decisions. You should ask her.”

He shudders. “Kalyna is scary.”

I laugh, and a small smile flits across his face. “Kalyna, scary? She’s not. A little intimidating, sure, but she cares. She’s like a parent to us.”

At the word parent, the smile drops from his face. He turns away from me. “Aren’t you tired from guard duty? You should go get some rest.”

Oh, no. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” His voice is small now, not at all like the teasing tone he held just a few seconds ago.

Suddenly, it clicks - his red eyes, why he’s been sitting up here all alone in the nail-biting cold for the past few hours with just his cloak. “We’ll get your sister, Akash. Don’t worry.”

He looks back, fresh tears sliding down his cheeks. “I- I just can’t stop imagining what they could have done to her. Is she okay? Is she getting enough food? Are they treating her well?” He rubs his nose and sniffles. “What- what if they- our parents-”

I remember what he’d said a few days ago. “The Black Guard kxlled my parents, and captured my sister.”

“When?” Kalyna had asked.

“A month ago.”

Akash’s next words bring me back to the present. “What if I’ll never see Aditi again?”

Oh, Akash. I put my hand on his shoulder. “We’ll see her. You’ll see her again. I promise that. She can’t be dxad.”

“You can’t promise that.” His eyes dart to my hand, then to my face. “I- I just don’t know what to do if I lose her too.” He turns back to the sea.

“You can have hope. Kalyna’s gonna try as much as she can. So will Nina and Savio. So will I. We’re a team, Akash. We’re not going to stop until we can’t do anything else.”

He rubs his eyes and meets my gaze. There’s a new light in them - dull, small, but it’s there. “Thanks, Kichona.”

I smile at him. “Of course.”

July 9, 2021 - Daily

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V1:
(Half an hour earlier)

Xanthan grinned. He’d successfully made it into the lair of the sisters. He took a quick look around: shelves with ancient, fragile tomes, vases of flowers that would take anyone’s breath away - figuratively and literally. Along a small, cracked window lay small figurines - a penguin, cat, and hippopotamus, whatever those were. They were slightly misshapen, and looked old - as if a child had made them.

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the mission. There was no time to get distracted. Father wouldn’t be pleased if he showed up empty-handed.

Against the farthest wall were the sisters - Elisa and Xina - sleeping peacefully. Xanthan smirked. Let your guard down, huh?

Finally, he spotted what he’d come looking for. On a small table lay a necklace - a silver chain with a softly glowing crystal pendant. Carefully sneaking over to the table, Xanthan grabbed the necklace and slipped it over his head. The pendant rested against his heart, glowing brighter and dimmer in time with his pulse. Xanthan smiled.

(Now)
Xina’s eyes fluttered open. Soft red rays of light streamed in through the window, illuminating the figures set on the windowsill. Xina turned to her sister.

“Elisa, the sun’s up! We have to go!”

Elisa groaned and turned away from her younger sister. “Just a few more minutes…”

◕

As Xina and Elisa got ready for their scavenging outing, Xina couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. Specifically, missing.

What could it be?

Just as they were about to step out of the door, bows and arrows in hand, Xina gave one last sweep of the room. Everything was in order. The books, flowers, furniture-

It hit her.

“Elisa! The pendant!”

Elisa’s hand flew to her throat. “I’m not wearing it!”

Xina smacked her forehead. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Their father had told them to take care of it, and now they’d gone and lost it.

Unless…

The same thought seemed to flash in Elisa’s mind. Their eyes met.

“Xanthan,” Elisa growled.


V2:

Xanthan stepped into the room. A small light hung from the ceiling, and he stepped closer to inspect it. It was an intricately carved lantern, with gilded golden edges. In the center, a hovering ball of fire cast light into the room - along with the dim purple light streaming in from the window.

The animals on the windowsill seemed to greet him warmly. Hello, Xanthan. We missed you. It’s been so long.

Or at least, that’s what Xanthan imagined they’d say.

The room, although small, seemed cozy - well-read books lined the shelves, flowers that were beautiful to the eye and fatal to the touch adorned faded vases, two sets of bows and arrows leaned against the wall. And in the corner - the two sisters.

Elisa, the eldest, had a red blanket draped over her as she huddles against the wall. Xanthan felt a pang in his chest as he realized just which blanket it was.

Next to her was the youngest, Xina. She clutched her sister’s hand, a blue blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She looked so small and frail, Xanthan realized. And Elisa looked older than before. When had they changed?

Xanthan wished he could wake them up and see their smiles, like they had shown him years ago. Now, though he was more likely to have a knxfe at his throat (courtesy of Elisa) than a smile.

Xina might still smile though.

Xanthan shook the thought out of his head. No. Elisa would have made share she knew by now. Xina wouldn't be the innocent little girl she once was.

Xanthan stepped closer towards them, and something caught his eye.

A glowing orb.

Xanthan looked again. No, not an orb - a crystal. The Crystal of Healing. Strung on a thin silver chain, it winked softly in the dim light from the moon.

Xanthan slipped it over his head and let the pendant sit against his chest. It pulsed, a soft glow that ebbed and flowed.

A memory flowed into his mind - A young Xina, chasing a glowing orb down a hill with Elisa laughing behind her. And his mother at the bottom of the hill, waiting for the girls.

Xanthan shook his head. Best not to dwell on it. Silently, he slipped out of the room, the pendant pulsing all the while.

July 13, 2021 - Daily

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“What are you doing with that?!”

“With what?”

“That thing… in your hand! Don’t play innocent with me. That thing you are holding may cause the destruction of this whole world!”

Skyler looked down at the flower in his hands. “You’re kidding.”

Neha shook her head. “You wish I was.”

Skyler took another look at the plant - the delicate white petals in the shape of teardrops, the slim emerald stem, the pointed leaf with jagged edges. “This could cause ‘the destruction of this whole world’?”

“You really don’t know?”

Skyler shook his head.

“Oh my gods, what do you do in class? Anyway. That flower is the extremely dangerous Helenatus mirtinas, more commonly known as the Gorgon’s Flower. This is the same flower that killed Helen of Leamor, remember?” Neha pulled the unassuming flower out of Skyler’s grasp as realization spread across his face. “What are you even doing with it? How did you even get it in the first place?”

Skyler rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I thought it would make a nice surprise for Mom. She said that she likes white flowers, and I found this on the castle grounds - in the garden, actually. There’s a few there.”

Neha sighed. “No one teaches the prince anything,” she grumbled.

“Hey! Not my fault it was just there!”

Suddenly, something Skyler said clicked in Neha’s mind. “Wait. You said it was in the garden?”

He nodded. “Towards the back end, just underneath our treehouse.”

The gears in Neha’s mind were turning. “Sky, someone’s trying to kxll the royal family.”

“What?!” Skylar was shocked. Kxll the royal family? “That can’t be true!”

“Think about it! I’ve never seen these flowers there before. You obviously didn't realize that they were Gorgon’s Flowers. Professor Martinez said these flowers take just a week to fully bloom, and I haven't been there in over a week. These flowers are banned from Tarana Kingdom - in fact, they’re outlawed in all kingdoms and provinces in Southern Khuyeles. So someone had to have it brought here - illegally - and they put it in a place where they knew you would see it. Someone who knows that Queen Alice likes white flowers, and that you would give her something she likes.”

Skyler was stunned. “Woah, Neha.”

Neha grinned, but her smile quickly faded. “It- It’s possible, isn’t it?”

Skyler nodded grimly. “I think so. I’m just surprised - did the person also know that you were too busy to hang out with me for the past week and a half?”

Neha frowned. “Well… I don’t know.”

They stood in silence for a moment, before Skyler snapped his fingers. “Didn’t you tell us that you were going to be busy two weeks ago? When we called you and your family over for dinner?”

“Yes!” Neha exclaimed. “You, your mother, your father, me, my mother, my father, your uncle… and who else?”

“The rest of the Immediate Council,” Skyler finished. “You… Do you think it could have been one of them?”

“Whoever it was,” Neha growled, “they’re a traitor to the kingdom. They deserve to be punished.”

“And we’re gonna find out who,” Skyler finished.

July 13, 2021 - Daily

✧×✧

Words: stars, time, pain, travel (courtesy of @Featherstar800)

The stars were as bright as diamonds. Diamonds in the sky, diamonds in her eyes. She loved the stars - she’d always take me outside at night and point out the different constellations. “There’s Cygnus,” she’d say, tucking my blanket tighter around me. I sat in her lap, just a toddler at the time. “It’s a big swan. Do you see it?” She’d take my hand and trace the outline of whatever constellation it was in the sky.

“Yes, Mommy!” I’d smile. “The swan has big wings!”

“Yes, Cielo darling,” she’d laugh. “So it flies all across the sky!” And then she’d pick me up and mimic flying, pretending that I was actually soaring through the skies, through the shining stars. “All the swans, they fly forever.”

I believed her. Of course I did.

But happiness, I found, doesn’t last forever.

Time passed. I grew older. I stopped wanting to be with her. “No one hangs out with their parents,” I said as a teenager. “I’m too old for that, Mom.”

She’d watch me step out the door, laughing and walking off with my friends, sadness falling over her like a shadow. Little did I know that was the start.

The start of the diamonds falling.

She ate less. She didn’t feel like doing anything. At night, when I tiptoed past my parents’ door, I could hear her moaning in her sleep. She contracted fevers and diseases, more often and more than anyone else in my family.

My father was worried sick. But I didn’t do enough. I looked away when she needed me. I locked myself in my room, afraid of what would be and currently was going on outside my closed door.

By the time I realized what I needed to do - be brave and help her through it - it was too late. There was no turning back. She wasn’t going to get better - ever.

Her health was failing more rapidly than before. I finally started helping her, and her eyes lit up. The diamonds started shining again - but just for a moment. Not long enough.

By winter, she was gone.

I was eighteen.

Only after she left us did I start remembering. The stars, her love. How I’d taken my mother for granted. Forever, I thought. I thought it would be forever.

It was too much to bear. My own overwhelming guilt, my father’s suffocating silence. The pain of her dxath. I wanted to escape my mistakes.

My mother loved the stars. Surely that would be where she’d gone now - the night sky she loved so dearly.

I missed her. I wanted to be with her. I wanted to run away from the place where her memories taunted me, shamed me.

And what better way than to travel into the stars themselves?

I studied. Trained. The government needed people like me, they said. People passionate about flying, the night sky, exploring, defending. Astronauts. Warriors of the future.

The only reason they compelled me is because of the stories my mother told me from youth.

Earth, as a planet, was failing. Global warming, they said. “We need another planet! Earth will not suffice.” And so they sent us all. Searchers.

We are the warriors. We have suffered through many challenges and tribulations. And now we journey into the sky for humankind.

I journey into the sky for my mother.

July 13, 2021 - Daily

✧×✧

Ainara scanned the cliff wall. “That’s quite a bit of distance.”

Ashtoreth exhaled and picked up an arrow. “Have they started?”

Ainara followed the tiny figures of Isabel, Alizeé, and Cody - their friends and the people they were currently up against - with her eyes. They stood at the base of the cliff, preparing to climb up. “Not yet.”

Professor Rigmar - their fighting and self-defense teacher - had given them an assignment: two teams. The task? To delay the other’s ascent up a cliff at all costs.

Lance flexed his fingers, and balls of earth rose out of the ground. “I wish they would hurry up-”

“Lance, now! They’re going!”

Lance thrust out his arm, and a spear of solid dirt exploded from the soil. It crossed five hundred yards and collided against the cliff face just above thier opponents. From Ainara, Ashtoreth, and Lance’s vantage point, they could see Cody fall from the blast.

“Nice.” Ashtoreth lifted his hand, and Lance high-fived it.

“Should we attack again?” Lance asked.

Ainara glanced at their struggling opponents. “Nah. Let’s wait.”


Fifteen minutes later, Isabel, Alizeé, and Cody reached the middle of the cliff - after several attempts to sabotage their progress (courtesy of Ainara, Ashtoreth, and Lance).

“Can I do it now-” Ashtoreth begged, bouncing on his toes. Ainara glanced at her younger brother. He was eager to use his arrows, she noted.

“Fine,” she sighed. Ashtoreth beamed, and lifted three arrows at once - his magic. One by one, he sent them whistling though the air in rapid succession, slamming them into the rock.

“Dude, you almost hit Zee!” Lance exclaimed.

“As if.”

“Alright! Ash, good job. We most likely got points for that,” Ainara grinned. “Keep it up.”

July 2021 - Weekly #2

✧×✧

Part I:
Bg: galaxy
Sprites: llama, Pico, magic wand

Pico pushed the lever for the thruster, and his spacecraft shot through the darkness. There, through the window, a bright blue star slid into view.

“Hello there,” Pico said, more to himself than the star - though the latter was his intent. He cleared his throat and tried again. “How are you doing on this fine day?”

The star pulsed softly, like it always did. Like they all did.

“Or night. Really, it’s impossible to tell. You know, space.”

Now Pico wanted to slap himself. Why was he talking to a random star? Why was he talking to a random star and half-expecting it to actually respond to him?

“I’m having a fine time, how about you?”

Pico jumped. Never in his life as an Entity Seeker had he heard a star reply to him. Sure, he’d make them reply in his imagination, but real life?

“No, I’m not that star over there. Though it does want you to know it’s doing fine.”

Now Pico was just confused. “U-uh… who are you? And how can you talk to stars? And how did you know what I was thinking!?”

A long, animal-like face poked into the cockpit, and Pico screamed.

“Chill, man,” the animal-face sighed. “It’s cool.”

Not an animal-like face, Pico realized when he calmed down. It was an animal. A llama.

“Uh… hello?” Pico said shakily.

“Hey,” the llama replied. “So, uh, do you mind if I steal some juice boxes or something? ‘Cause I really want one right now.”

Pico blinked. “Sure, I guess.” He opened a cooler and tossed a box to the llama. The juice box sailed through the air - and came to a stop just in front of the llama’s mouth. Hovering. Pico’s eyes widened.

“How did you do that!?” he exclaimed. “Also, how did you get on my ship? Who are you? Where are you from?”

The juice box opened its straw, poked the straw into the hole, and the llama took a drink. Almost as if the box was being possessed. “First,” the llama started. “Thanks for the juice.”

“Uh, you’re welcome?”

“Second, I’m Des. Third,” the llama nodded to the map of his homeland on the wall, “I’m from the same place you seem to be from. Scratchland.”

Pico’s eyes were as big as saucers. “Woah, really?”

“Yeah. And I got onto this ship - noice ship, by the way - and controlled the juice box using magic.”

Magic. That was impossible. Unless…

“You have the Wand of Sorcery?” Pico asked, feigning disbelief. In reality, he was thrilled. His mission, if he managed to return the Wand to its rightful owners, was nearly over.

“Yep!” The llama beamed.

“How did you get it?”

“Found it floating in the spacetime, you know? Near this really big wreck of a ship. Sad.”

So whoever had been hiding the Wand was gone. And now it was with this… animal.

Pico had to get it back. The fate of Scratchland depended on it. But the question was, how?


Part II:
“Myth!” Fairy Tales, or Fairy as she liked to be called, brushed a few hanging vines away from her face. Her older sister, Mythology (“just call me Myth,” she’d always say), was curled up in her garden yet again. “Myth!” Fairy called again.

“What?” came the distant reply.

“What are you doing out here again?”

“Stuff?”

Fairy huffed and stalked through the stone statues and numerous trees, shrubs, flowers, and vines. “What stuff?”

“You don’t need to keep asking, Fai.”

Fairy turned a corner - so many paths - and there! Dark emerald hair that slithered to her shoulders like snakes, a green dress, flower crown nestled on the crown of her head. Myth. “There you are!”

Myth stood up from her stone bench, setting down a roll of parchment paper. Everything was stone in Myth’s garden. “Here I am. What’dya need?”

“I’m bored.”

“Of course you are,” Myth grumbled underneath her breath. “Little sisters. They just never leave you alone.”

“Hey! I leave you alone plenty! But Ad’s out today, and, and…”

“And you have no clue on what to do.”

Fairy nodded - then caught herself. “Not that I have ‘no clue’, but… I wanna hang out with you! Can’t we play Among We or something?”

Myth sighed. “No.”

“Skrabble?”

“No way.”

“Twenty-One Questions?”

“Now you’re just being annoying.”

Fairy sighed. Her sister was never a huge fan of games, but what else could they do? “How about we just go out and explore? The forest out back looks interesting…”

Just as Fairy thought, Myth’s eyes lit up. Her older sister could never resist a bit of adventure. “Oh, alright.”

Fairy smiled - a smile of knowing and victory. “Then hurry up! Last one ready is a rotten apple!”


Half an hour later, Fairy found Myth waiting at the front door for her. “Oh, wolves,” Fairy muttered.

“Who’s a rotten apple, huh?” Myth tossed her snake-like hair over her shoulder and grinned. “Anyway. You ready?”

Fairy grinned, brushing her own long black hair out of her eyes. “I was born ready.”

“You weren’t really ‘born’, you know.”

“Details! Who cares?”


The two sisters set out, leaves crunching underneath their footsteps on the gravel path. Their home was fairly close to the forest, Fairy noted. Myth would surely have at least explored the edges. But their guardians weren’t home now, and Fairy was not going to pass up this chance to wander into the unknown.

Oh, wait. That phrase was taken already.

“So, do you have a destination in mind?” Fairy asked.

“You’re the one that dragged me out here, Fai,” Myth replied.

“You’re the one that agreed.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

So Fairy zipped her lips (rude, but okay) and looked around them as they entered the forest. The trees were hues of scarlet and coral, peach and lemon. Real-fi would love this, Fairy thought. So would Poetry.

“So, how far have you been in the forest?” Myth asked after a moment, interrupting Fairy’s thoughts.

“Not far. You?”

“Only the edges.”

Ah. Just as Fairy had suspected. She grinned maliciously at her older sister, who looked at her with an oh-no face. “What.”

“How far do you wanna go now?”

Realization spread across Myth’s face like frost. “You do remember we’re not supposed to be in the forest, right?”

“Yep!”

“Then why are we here?!”

“You agreed!”

“I thought we’d stay on the outskirts! This is way too far in.” Myth grabbed Fairy’s arm and started pulling her in the opposite direction. “We’re going back. I am not about to get in trouble just because of yo-”

“Let go of me, Myth, just because you’re older doesn’t mean-”

“WHO DARES DISTURB THE ORDER OF THIS FOREST?” an unfamiliar voice boomed.

Fairy and Myth jumped, clinging on to each other. “Who was that?” Myth wondered aloud. Fairy, though she would never admit it, was thinking the same thing.

“THOSE WHO DISTURB THE CAREFUL PEACE OF THIS FOREST SHALL BE PUNISHED.”

“That doesn’t sound too good, Myth,” Fairy trembled. “Maybe we should get out of here?”

“Like you need to ask!”

The two girls turned and fled through the trees - but the forest was dense and running was hard. Plus, Fairy realized, they’d wandered pretty far in, with no clear way of knowing which way was out.

“THERE’S NO USE IN RUNNING. YOU WILL BE CAUGHT.”

They still ran.

After making a right turn, then a left, then going straight… then turning right… then left… then left…

“Okay, we’re dead,” Fairy huffed, practically collapsing against a tree. “We’re never getting home, and if we do, which is highly unlikely, we’re going to be grounded. Or worse. But if we stay here, we’re likely to be exxcutxd or something.”

Myth opened her mouth, as if to speak, but a rustling in the leaves above them cut her short. “Fai. What’s that?”

“I- I dunno…”

They looked up. There, in the branches…

Dark skin. Scarlet hair. And a wide grin.

“Hello there, girls.”

The boy dropped down to the ground almost effortlessly. He was tall, Fairy noted. Tall and dressed in the formalwear of a leader. She glanced over to Myth - her eyes were narrowed, distrustful even.

“Welcome to my forest.” The boy dropped into a bow. “I am the leader. You may call me Dystopian.”


Part III:
“Gather ‘round, come on!” Bakie shouted to her campers. She looked at her fellow cabin leaders - Kat and Honey - and smiled. This session was going great so far. “The gorgons are waiting for you!”

One by one, the campers filed in, laughing and talking happily. They all wore green clothes - symbols of their allegiance to their cabin, Mythology - fondly known as the Garden.

Just by the fire, Honey was gathering materials for roasting marshmallows and smores. “Do we have enough?” she asked Kat.

Kat took one look at the bags of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate bars before shaking her head. “These campers are like ravenous vultures after writing. We might need double.”

“Okay, I’m going to get more,” Honey stood up, brushing dirt off her dress. “Don’t let Bakie start storytime without me!”

Kat smirked. “We’ll see, love!”

Bakie walked over to Kat just as Honey disappeared into the darkness. “It’s almost 9,” Bakie said. “I think we have everyone here. Do we have enough materials?”

Kat looked in the direction Honey had gone and grinned. “Almost. We can start, I think.”

Bakie nodded, and turned to the assembled campers. “Hey, statues! Hope you all had fun writing today!”

Various cheers of “Yeah!” and “Yes!” floated up through the air.

“But as you all surely know, writing is best fed by reading. Stories. Experience, too, but that’s later. Right now, we have some storytime planned, along with marshmallows and smores!”

A huge cheer erupted from the campers, enough to make other campers nearby turn their way. “Quiet down!” came a shout from their neighboring cabin.

“Be quiet, Birdi!” Kat shouted back, and turned to Bakie. “I stole some matches from Alba earlier today - I’m sure she won’t notice these missing.” She held the said matches up, triumphant.

Bakie sighed, but a grin appeared on her face. “Alright, light the fire.”

Kat bent down and struck the match against the side of the box. A bright orange flame caught, and slowly grew brighter. Kat tossed the match onto the woodpile, and soon they had a bright fire burning. The campers were jubilant, clustering around the fire to warm their aching hands.

“Grab some sticks and marshmallows, and feel free to help yourselves! We’ll get more if necessary,” Bakie finished with a smile.

Kat tore open a bag of marshmallows. “And-”

“NEVER FEAR HONEY-SLASH-STHENO IS HERE WITH MORE FOOD!” Honey burst into their clearing, a big smile on her face and more bags in her hands. The campers laughed, delighted at the surprise entrance. Honey turned to Kat. “Did you start storytime yet?”

“Nope, not yet.”

“Ooh, stories! Do you have some to tell us?” One of the campers asked. The other campers around nodded eagerly.

“Please tell us! Tell us lots!” another camper burst out.

“Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!” the campers started, and soon all joined in, creating a chant so loud Honey was sure the other cabins would give them dirty looks at breakfast.

“BAKIE, THIS IS WHY WE’RE ON TOP - YOU ALL ARE SO LOUD-”

“Be quiet, Alyelle! We’ll beat you yet!” Bakie shouted, and turned back to her campers. “Ahem- okay, okay. We’ll tell you a story. Any requests?”

The campers were silent for a moment, until one spoke up. “How about the story on how SWC started?” the camper said. “We’ve all heard about it, but no one knows for sure what happened.” Murmurs of agreement rippled through the Myth campers.

Bakie clapped her hands and grinned. “That’s a wonderful idea.”


✐✎✐✎✐✎


Adventure held out a sword pointed directly at Fairy Tales, who was holding a sword at Adventure. “You won’t win this time, sis.”

“We’ll see, big bro,” Fairy Tales smirked.

“The match begins in three,” Mythology started the countdown, “two, one, NOW!”

Adventure and Fairy Tales lunged at each other, attacking and defending blows. Myth watched the two of them continue fighting - the fortieth match this week - and turned to her best friend, Historical Fiction, better known as Hi-Fi. “There they go again.”

Hi-Fi shrugged. “Fairy’s gonna lose.”

“Eh, she might win.”

“Nah, Ad’s got enough of her taunting.”

Sure enough, the two teens in the arena were throwing insults at each other. Myth sighed. Her siblings were always like this. “You ready for Writing Club tomorrow?”

Hi-Fi grinned. “Definitely. I even wrote way more words than Professor asked us to.”

If there was one thing Adventure, Fairy Tales, and the rest of their friends (and classmates) agreed on, it was writing. Writing was how they expressed themselves to the world. It was how they expressed themselves to each other. Writing was how Myth had met her best friend.

But in the words of Professor, “Writing is rare.” And Professor was right - hardly anyone seemed to treasure writing as much as Myth and her peers did. And those few rare souls who did seem to care eventually faded away.

It was just them - Mythology, Adventure, Fairy Tales, Historical Fiction, Mystery, Horror, Dystopian, Non-Fiction, Contemporary, Poetry, Realistic Fiction, Thriller, Fanfiction, Science Fiction, and Fantasy. For time being, at least.

But it felt like forever.

But Myth knew it wasn’t actually forever. Fan-Fi had joined them just recently, and although Fan hadn’t been in Writing Club for long, Myth knew that Fan was going to stay.

She just wished there were more people as invested in the art of writing as they were.

“No way,” Myth elbowed Hi-Fi. “I wrote way more words than even Ad this time. There’s no way you could have beaten me.”

Hi-Fi laughed. “Oh yeah? We’ll see.”

๑๑๑

“Kids! Good to see you again,” Professor greeted them as they walked into the door.

“You saw us two days ago,” Non-Fi replied.

“Yes, well. Anyway, I’ve got a surprise for you all!” Professor exclaimed cheerfully as Myth took a seat next to Hi-Fi.

Fan-Fi brightened. “What is it?”

Professor grinned. “Candy, come out!”

A teenage girl stepped out - how, Myth had no idea. She was just simply there when earlier, she was not. The classroom gasped.

“Hey! My name is Candy, and I love writing. Like, so so so so much. And I heard you all like writing too, and- I had an idea!”

Myth glanced at Professor. He was nodding and smiling. What could this girl be doing?

“So, my idea was this: I know of a way to get people and writers. Your Professor told me how you all want more people to get into writing. And my people, the ones I know, love writing. And you all are so experienced - you could help lead us in a camp. A place for people to write and bond over writing.”

A camp?

Fantasy grinned. “That’s a great idea!”

Candy grinned back. “So, will you do it?”

Myth looked towards Professor again, this time catching his gaze. He nodded at her, and she looked towards Candy. “Yes. We will. But you’ll have to help us too.”

“Of course,” Candy smiled.


✐✎✐✎✐✎


“And that’s how it started,” Bakie said. “They came to Scratchland, started the very first SWC with Candy, and over time, trained other people to become leaders. Now we are the leaders, trained by previous leaders, who were trained by the Genres themselves.”

The Myth campers were silent as stone, enraptured by the tale Bakie, Honey, and Kat were weaving.

“And now here we are,” Honey finished. “With all of you. And look how much SWC’s grown to be!”

The campers were silent for a moment, before breaking into applause. They chattered excitedly amongst themselves, about the story and legacy of what had happened. Bakie looked at her co-leaders. “We didn’t tell them everything.”

Kat grinned. “It’s better that way. Let them figure out what’s missing.”

“But missing or whole, a story’s a story.” Honey looked at the eager young writers, all sharing more marshmallows and smores and talking. “And we’re part of it.”

July 18, 2021 - Daily

✧×✧

Original Lyrics:
(Speechless by Naomi Scott)
Try to lock me in this cage
I won't just lay me down and die
I will take these broken wings
And watch me burn across the sky
Hear the echoes saying I
Won't be silenced

Changed Lyrics:
Try to close this mouth
I won't lie down and I will die
I take these broken wings
See me running across the water
I hear the voices talking to me
Can't minimize

The announcer’s voice crackled, having been magnified to fill the packed arena. “The semifinal begins! In three-”

Huge roars from the students in the stands. Half from the Royal Preparatory of Terra, half from the Royal Preparatory of Excellence, from Eclipse.

“Two-”

On the dirt floor of the arena, Melody took a depth breath. Across from her stood Fisher - the person of her nightmares. He wasn’t even humane enough to be called “human” - rather, monster would be a better fit. In the past two years, he’d done nothing but destroy her self-esteem and sanity. At first, Melody had merely accepted it, but now she’d had enough.

“One-”

She was going to finish what he had started.

“Begin!”

An eerie smile crept onto Fisher’s face. Melody, though inwardly petrified, managed to keep her face still.

Come on. You can do this. Ana’s done it. Thea’s done it. Lily’s done it. Mom did it - a lot. Even Dad did it. You can too.

She knew her sisters and friends were behind her, cheering her name. Though she wanted so badly to just run back to the stands and be a watcher, she knew she couldn’t do that.

My team depends on this. I have to fight!

“Seems like we meet here, Melody,” Fisher sneered. “I wonder if you’ll have to be carried out on a stretcher like the rest of them?”

Melody closed her eyes. “I won’t.”

“And you’re totally not so scared you can’t keep your eyes open, huh?”

Melody’s eyes snapped open. “I am not scared. There are people here, in case you didn’t notice. I was trying to focus on the best way of brxaking all your bones.”

Fisher smirked. “Oh, really? Listen, Mel, you’re not your mother, as talented as she is. You’re not your father. Neither are you your sisters - who have some serious fighting technique, I’ll give them that. And you are definitely not your cousins and friends. You’re a nobody, Melody Niharika Carran.”

Don’t listen to him. Melody repeated the words she’d tell herself whenever his insults became too much, but today they seemed fruitless.

Sick, useless little Melody. The words floated around her, nearly tangible. What do we do with her? She can’t do anything.

Her parents, crying outside her hospital room when they thought she was asleep. How did she fall so ill? Her mother’s voice, raw from hours of tears.

It’s my fault, I must have done something. I must have- her father’s voice now, just as ragged as her mother’s, interrupted by her mother smothering him in a hug.

You didn’t do anything, replied her mother.

No, Melody thought bitterly. He didn’t do anything. I must have. It’s my fault.

“Melody, snap out of it! Come on, fight!”

Melody turned and looked behind her. There, in the stands, her sister Analise and her cousin Lily were shouting at her. “Don’t listen to him!”

Next to them, her best friend Chaiya was waving her arms madly. “You can do this!” she cheered.

Melody looked back at Fisher, who was glaring at the three girls behind her. She looked at the clock: four minutes and thirty seconds left.

She fought to push back the negative thoughts filling her mind. I am stronger than my weaknesses. I am stronger than those who try to break me down.

With each thought, she conjured a part of an illusion. Water. Fisher stepped back, shocked. In between them lay a wide expanse of water, stretching from one end of the arena to the other.

Melody floated into the air, an air cyclone lifting her up. She could feel her eyes glowing - yet another illusion she could control.

“You’ve done enough, Fisher,” she growled. “I had the good grace to be compliant all this time.”

Fisher cowered, trembled even. This time, Melody gave him an eerie smile.

“I won’t stay silent anymore.”

July 18, 2021 - Daily

✧×✧

Old passage:
(this is literally from 2019 and so cringey)

Hazel sprinted across the asphalt. It was six o’clock, and trick-or-treating time had just started. She could already envision the candy piling up in her basket.

Suddenly, someone stopped her. “Hey, Hazel!” Lea said. “Busy year!”

“I know,” Hazel agreed. “2150 might be the most crowded year yet!”

Lea’s eyes lit up. “Hey, this year we can go to The House on 13th Street! We’re old enough.”

“Wait…what?” Hazel said. “The old haunted house?”

“It’s not haunted…” Lea grinned. “Are you…scared, Hazel?”

“No,” Hazel said, shoving her trembling hands in her pockets. “Not at all.”

Soon, they arrived at the fabled haunted house.

“Go.” Lea pushed Hazel toward the door. “Show me that you’re not scared.” Hazel gulped and walked forward.

A low moan emanated from behind the entrance. Hazel shivered but continued. She climbed the creaking stairs and slowly grasped the cold doorknob.

The door screeched and swung open.

The place was awash in cobwebs and dusty furniture. Low groans and scrapes radiated through the house. Suddenly, a white sheet flew out the door. A voice screeched, “WHERE IS IT?”

Hazel turned and ran out of the house. Lea caught her. “Hazel! What happened?”

Suddenly, Lea’s face grew pale, and Hazel turned.


Revised passage:
Hazel sprinted across the asphalt. It was finally 6 in the evening, and trick-or-treating had just begun. Hazel could almost see the cellophane candies falling into her orange pumpkin basket.

“Hey, Hazel!”

Hazel turned around. There, running up the street towards her in a violet dress and witch hat, was her friend Lea. “Hey, Lea!”

“Busy year, huh?” Lea panted as she came to a stop next to Hazel, out of breath.

Hazel glanced at the kids filling up the streets. “I know. 2150 might be the most crowded year yet!”

Lea nodded in agreement, and her eyes lit up. “Hey, this year we can go to The House on 13th Street! All the big kids go there. And this year, we’re old enough!”

Hazel swallowed. “Wait… you mean the old haunted house?”

“It’s not haunted…” Lea grinned cheekily. “Are you scared, Hazel?”

Hazel shoved her trembling hands into the pockets of her Hegwarts robe. “No! Not at all.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Lea cheered. “Let’s go!”

▲▽▲

As they approached the fabled haunted house, Hazel couldn’t stop the waves of dread rushing over her skin. This house was known for ghost sightings, though Lea obviously didn’t believe in them.

What if something happens?

What if we really see a ghost?

What if?

“Okay, we’re here,” Lea announced, coming to a stop just in front of the wooden house. Hazel looked over the building: weathered wood planks, broken steps, shattered windows. A shredded flag. Low moans.

It took all of Hazel’s willpower to not run away.

“Go on,” Lea said, pushing Hazel forward. “Show me that you’re not scared.”

Hazel gulped and took a shaky step forward.

And another.

And another.

Soon, even before realizing it, she was at the doorstep. She placed one foot on the step, creeeeeeak, and placed her other foot on the next step, creeeak.

Next step.

Next step.

Door.

Hazel placed her hand on the doorknob - cold - and pushed. The door swung open with a moan, and Hazel stepped inside.

(to be continued)

July 21, 2021 - Daily

✧×✧

Description focus:
I push open the carved wooden doors and step inside the palace library. The room is enormous: likely the size of an Earthian football field. Bookshelves as tall as elephants line the walls, each holding at least a hundred bound tomes. I take a deep breath, the scent of paper and wood filling my lungs, and exhale.

I haven’t been here in four years. It feels good to be back in one of my favorite places in the castle.

I take a step forward, my feet finding a familiar path through the bookshelves and dark walnut tables. Heading past rows and rows of leather-bound and thread-embroidered books, I let my fingers brush against them as I pass.

Encyclopedias, atlases. Rough, carded paper covers. Dictionaries, field guides. Novels. Fantasies, mythologies. Legends, fairy tales. All sorts of books. I used to spend hours in the library, picking books from the shelves and reading them over and over again. I stop at a shelf - J Fiction, Re-S - and let my fingers find a book. Thumbing through the aged pages, it feels as if I’ve returned to my blissful childhood.

I slip the book back into its place and continue. Rounding another bookshelf, the shelves open into a wide reading space - large beanbags and soft pillows line the wall, and hazy light filters in through the wide glass windows. I smile, recalling the time spent here as well. I’ve even fallen asleep here, reading so late into the night that sleep overtook my senses.

The library truly is a special place.


Narration focus:
I push open the door and step into the palace library. The library is huge, and bookshelves are standing in every direction I see. I used to spend so much of my time here - but after four years, I find that I've forgotten many of the small details that make this book haven special.

I set off towards the reading space. As I get closer, voices float out from behind the bookshelves - light and lilting, laughing.

I sigh. I’d know those voices anywhere. Those are the voices of my sisters, Ainara and Petal.

I round a corner and see them - my older sister and younger sister. They stand at the other end of the room, and I take a step towards them.

Petal looks up. “Ash!” she exclaims, shoving the book they’d been holding into Ainara’s hands. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I could say the same for you.” I look over at Ainara. She looks back at me. “You too, Aina?”

“You’re not the only nerd around here, you know,” she laughs.

I snap my fingers, and the book Ainara holds in her hands appears in my own. I turn the cover over and read the title - Vengeance.

“Ashtoreth, give it back,” Petal sighs and turns to Ainara. “I forgot he could do that.”

“Sis, you really forgot his main power?” Ainara shakes her head. “For shame.”

“This book is mine now.” I spin on my heel and start walking in the opposite direction. “Ciao.”

A wall of purple fire erupts in front of me - fire that would harm living beings only. I turn and look at Ainara. She grins at me. “The book is yours. But at what price, dearest brother?”


Combined focus:
I push open the carved wooden doors and step inside the enormous palace library. Wooden bookshelves line the walls, books from last week to the last ten centuries filling their shelves. The delicate tinges of paper and wood fill my senses, and I smile.

This library, this special place of my childhood had been practically untouched for the past four years. I haven't been here for the past four years.
Coming back and seeing this place feels almost like a reunion.

I let my feet take me through the rows and rows of shelves, and let my fingers brush against the numerous volumes. So many books. It never truly occured to me that Sanara Castle has so many at hand.

As I walk, I hear voices. My sisters. Ainara, the eldest, and Petal, the youngest. And then there's me, the middle brother.

I walk past another bookshelf, and then I see them. Huddled around a book in their hands, laughing over something. I take a step towards them.

“Ash!” Petal exclaims, shoving the book into Ainara's hands. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I could say the same for you.” I glance over at Ainara. She gazes back. “You too, Aina?”

She makes a pshh sound. “You're not the only nerd here, y'know.”

I snap my fingers and the book in Ainara's hand appears in mine. I flip the book over and see the title, inlaid in gold: Vengeance.

“Ashtoreth, give it back.” Petal sighs. Turning to Ainara, she says, “I forgot he could do that.”

“Sis, you really forgot his main power?” Ainara shakes her head. “For shame.”

Petal opens her mouth but I beat her to it. “This book is mine now.” I spin on my heel and step forward. “Ciao.”

Suddenly, a wall of magical flames erupts in front of me. I'm about to douse it in water, before it gets to the books, but then I realize.

Purple flames. Flames that only hurt living beings.

I turn and glare at Ainara, who has her hand outstretched. She grins at me. “Okay, you can have it. But, brother dearest, at what cost?”

July 22, 2021 - Daily

✧×✧

Mango
- Sweet
- Sour
- Stubborn
- Ambitious
- Basically a mango lol
- Teen
- Name → Alani
- Only child

Alani slid her card onto the growing pile on the floor. “Plus four, Lai.”

Adelaide, Alani’s best friend, groaned in frustration. “Oh my gods, whyyyy-”

Alani smirked as Adelaide reluctantly drew four more cards. “And I change the color to yellow.”

Adelaide’s face twisted into something like defeat behind her cards. Alani, looking down at the three yellow cards in her hand, grinned. “Your turn!”

Adelaide glared at Alani and drew a card from the deck. “You go.”

Alani grinned. “Skip, five.” She threw down the said cards. “Uno!”

Adelaide’s jaw dropped to the floor. “What- how-”

Alani fingered her last card and smiled. “I just did. Come on, your turn.”

Adelaide drew yet another card - for a total of ten cards in her hands - and placed it down. A yellow nine. “I know you’re gonna win.”

Alani threw down her last card and flopped onto the floor. “Yep! I win!”

Adelaide put down her own cards - a rainbow of colors, minus yellow - and sighed. “Yellow Plus two? Seriously?”

Alani smiled cheekily at her best friend. “Because why not?”

Adelaide groaned. “I hate you.”

“Love you too, bestie.”

“Girls!” The voice of Adelaide’s mother floated into the room. “You’ll come down for lunch, won’t you?”

“Yes, we will!” Adelaide shouted and turned to Alani. “Hurry, pick up the cards!”

Alani reached for the cover while Adelaide shoved the cards into a messy pile. Alani sighed and reached over. “Pick them up neatly!”

“I’ll do it later!” Adelaide swatted Alani’s hands away. “You know how Mum gets when we don’t listen to her at the instant she tells us something.”

“Yeah, but we can’t just leave them here!”

Adelaide pushed the cards underneath her bed and stood up. “No one will know. We’ll do it after lunch.”

Alani stood up too. “I still think we should put them back.”

“Oh my gods Alani, later, please. Stop being such a momma bear.” With an I’m-sorry-I-know-you-must-hate-me-right-now-but-please look, Adelaide dragged Alani out the door.

☆

“Girls! Glad you came in time. Good you came now, or else…” Adelaide’s mother, Lily, cast a sideways glance at Alani. “You would have missed Karchela.”

Alani perked up instantly, forgetting her grumbles over Adelaide’s messy room made even messier by the cards. “Really? You made it?”

Karchela was Alani’s favorite dish - savory vegetables sautéed and seasoned with local flavors, served with rice. Lily smiled. “Of course. After all,” Lily
rubbed Alani’s head, “when Alani comes to visit we have to make the best!”

Adelaide was nodding brightly, and Alani beamed at both of them.

(to be continued)

July 26, 2021 - Daily

✧×✧

Prompt: “And close your eyes, your soul flies high; I’ll sing you ashen lullabies” (Symphony by @-alocasia/Alba)

“We can’t.”

Carle’s words strike through me like shards of ice. How? How could he be so cruel? And yet, despite the harshness of his words, I know why. I understand why he says so. But I can’t, not for anything in the world.

I will never give up my son.

But I have to.

My husband’s face softens as my silence drags on. “Becky. We have to-”

“No!” I clutch the folds of my dress - ragged and worn, nearly falling apart - even after endless patches and mends. It’s true, we’re not as privileged as other families. No one in this neighborhood is. But they pull through with what they have, who they have.

Why can’t we do the same?

“Look around, Beck.” Carle puts a hand on my arm and gestures to the one-room house we’re in. I look, taking in the stained walls and clutter, dilapidated and aged appliances. “I don’t want to as well. But with the rent prices going up, and how little I’m able to save… we just can’t.”

I glance over at the couch - if it can even be called a couch - and at our two children. My daughter, five years old, her arms curled protectively around her months-old brother. “So you’ll separate them? Lyra and Jasper?”

Carle’s eyes dull. “It’s the only way we’ll be able to give him a better life.”

“What if it becomes worse?” I clench and unclench my hands. So much of his plan is a gamble. “He’ll believe himself to be an orphan if it doesn’t work.

Or… worse.”

Or dxad.

Carle sighs. “We have to try. We can’t let him live a life of poverty, of hardship. Jasper deserves more. He’s young enough that he won’t remember this later on. He’ll have the chance to go to school, Becky. To live life as it should be lived.”

His words bring tears to my eyes. “We really have to?”

“You know it’s the best option. We can’t afford to keep him.”

I stand and walk over to the children, lifting Jasper into my arms. He’s asleep. If a good and gracious family decides to take in this child… he could be free.

With a flash, I remember the way he smiles when I sing to him. I lean in now, my lips brushing his soft skin.

“And close your eyes, your soul flies high; I’ll sing you ashen lullabies.”