weekly - march 2nd-9th
༺ other parts of this weekly

part 1: poetry
words: 317/300

a) memories - haiku - 12 words
A breeze blows softly
Bringing past, dead memories
Back to life again

b) swc - acrostic - 18 words
Scratch's a coding platform
Writing is also done there, though
Calling all writers! SWC is about to start.

c) tic-tac-toe - free verse - 26 words
I hear a ticking sound
What could this be?
Ah, a clock.
Marking the time, days, and hours.
Locking me up,
In a world of
Tic-Tac-Toe's.

d) scratch writing camp - ballad - 158 words
Scratch Writing Camp
Sessions are in March, July and November
There's 15 genre cabins
Of one of them you'll be a member.

Your cabin gets points
For dailies and weeklies
There's word wars
And some other activities!

They help lead the camp
You guessed, the leaders and co's!
They make this camp possible
Those are the hosts!

Without them, we'd crumble.
The current hosts are Birdi, Bakie, Honey, and Kat.
Alba, Sini, Icy, and Li are some ghosts.
They are shining stars.

Applications for leaders
Come out in January, May, and September
Camper signups, in February, June, October.
And as I said, camp is in March, July, and November.

Each one of the cabins, is named after a genre:
Mystery, Contemporary, Fantasy, Horror, Mythology
Sci-Fi, Fan-Fi, Hi-Fi, Non-Fi, Real-Fi,
Thriller, Adventure, Fairy Tales, Dystopian, Poetry.

Are the cabins currently in SWC.
We are near the end
Of this camp ballad
Just let me say, join SWC, my friend!

e) “come back later” - soliloquy - 104 words
I'm devastated.
I still remember what she said.
“Come back and try again later.” She said.
“Or maybe never.” She said.
I can't believe this is happening to me.
“I don't feel anything for you.” She said.
“I have another.” She said.
“I don't get what you want from me.” She said.
“Why do you insist on this?” She said.
“You've gone crazy. You know I can't do this!” She said.
“I have no idea why you keep coming.” She said.
“I'm waiting for you. I'll wait a lifetime if you need it.” I said.
I can wait a lifetime.
For you, Fredericka.

weekly - march 2nd-9th
༺ other parts of this weekly

part 2: essays
words: 545/500 (with quote - without quote, word count is 511)
topic: girls in stem fields (specifically, coding/programming) - inspired by the girls who code book
sources:
> https://www.yoh.com/blog/breaking-down-gender-stereotypes-why-women-are-seen-as-better-coders
> https://www.statista.com/statistics/1126823/worldwide-developer-gender
> https://www.quora.com/What-are-the-stereotypes-of-computer-programmers
> https://www.toptal.com/open-source/is-open-source-open-to-women
quote:
> Saujani, R. (2017). Girls Who Code: Learn to Code and Change the World. Viking Books for Young Readers.

If I asked a group of girls “Do you know how to code?” I'd probably get quite a few of “no”’s and maybe, very luckily, a few “yes”’s. Why is this? Girls, since an early age, have been told, through stereotypes, social cues, TV shows, and maybe even educators, that subjects like science, technology, engineering, and math, also known as STEM, are “not for you”. You could watch TV shows that stereotype the words “programming” or “coding” as lazy men that live alone, are in pajamas, sitting on their computers all day, that don’t leave their basement unless they are going to the bathroom or picking up a pizza. In the words of Reshma Saujani, founder of the Girls Who Code movement, “Girls are being slowly steered away from STEM subjects before they can find out if they actually like them, and, more importantly, before they can find out that they are actually amazing at them.”

According to a survey executed in the spring-summer of 2021, out of 82,286 respondents, only 5%, or around 4,100, of coders and software engineers are women. A study performed in 2015 by Breanden Beneschott showed that out of 15,374 randomly-selected users from the coding platform named “Github”, only 6% (926) were women. The aforementioned coding platform is an online community that allows users to code and work collaboratively but also allows users outside the project, called “outsiders”, to suggest their own solutions for a project. These suggestions can be either accepted or declined. The researchers of a study realized in 2019 obtained gender data of 1.4 million users in Github, and found out that acceptance rates of women exceeded those of men in every programming language. However, the researchers also discovered that when women’s profiles didn’t contain gender information, their acceptance rate was 72%. But, when they identified themselves as women, their acceptance rate dropped to 62%. This study revealed two facts: First, that women are better coders, and second, that the coding community, which is 73% male, is biased against women. Sadly, according to these results, some men think that women are not the best fit for programming careers. And, more sadly, this is quite a new thinking - dating back to the 1940’s, the first coders were women. In fact, what most people don’t know is that the first fully-functioning electronic computer that did not rely on any moving mechanical parts, called “ENIAC”, or Electronic Numerical Integrator and Computer, was actually programmed by a team of six women. The team consisted of Frances Bilas Spence, Jean Jennings Bartik, Marlyn Wescoff Metlzer, Kathleen “Kay” McNulty Mauchly Antonelli, Frances Elizabeth “Betty” Holberton, and Ruth Lichterman Teitelbaum, that never received proper acknowledgment for their pioneering work. Other female coders that changed the world include Dr. Grace Hopper, Joan Clarke, Augusta “Ada” Lovelace, and Margaret Hamilton.

In conclusion, it turns out that women are better at coding than men, however, they don’t receive fair recognition and are biased and discriminated against. And even more unfortunately, solutions and suggestions from and by female users are most likely to be accepted if women hide behind gender-neutral profiles. These revealing results indicate that women, at least in the STEM field, are not being treated and recognized like they deserve.

written for an in-cabin challenge! (i wrote this for my weekly though )
the first poem is a sonnet, the second poem is an etheree, and the third poem is a palindrome poem!

i don’t think i’ve ever believed in love
the concept of soulmates always seemed strange
a perfect romance that fits like a glove
has always seemed somewhat out of my range
there’s no fairytales for people like me
i never dreamed of being a princess
that’s not who i’ve ever wanted to be
i’d never be a damsel in distress
no prince charming will sweep me off my feet
(it’s not as if i’d want him anyway)
all fairytales seem more sour than sweet
(everyone knows that’s what i always say)
no, i’ve never believed in love, that’s true
but her smile and her eyes make me want to

two hundred grams of self raising flour
some good quality strawberry jam
icing sugar, to decorate
two hundred grams of sugar
two tablespoons of milk
vanilla extract
four eggs, beaten
more sugar!
butter
bake

when i left home
i took my photos
but
i didn’t take my toys
when i left home

weekly - march 2nd-9th
༺ other parts of this weekly

part 3: scriptwriting
words: 906/700 (including acting indications such as “aside” or the characters' names)
original piece can be found in part 4 here (~1k words)

Cabin Wars - An SWC Fanfiction and Play

Scene I
Seven o’clock in the morning. Second Saturday of the month. Excitement and hubbub.

Camper 1 is in their bed, and suddenly wakes up. They get dressed and quickly check a list that contains cabin wars rules, points, bases and conditions.

Leader 1, standing in front of them: Good morning! We were attacked at about five o’clock - so please start writing as soon as possible!

Real-Fi Camper (from off-stage, through a speaker): You have 2 hours left to finish our war! Remember, you need a total of at least 2,000 words!

Camper 1 has writer’s block.
After one hour…

Camper 2, yelling: Our current total is 1,678 words! We need 322 more words, guys!

Camper 1 suddenly has a writing idea and quickly starts writing.

Real-Fi Camper (from off-stage, through a speaker): There’s half an hour left!

Camper 1 writes like crazy. There’s only ten minutes left. Camper 1 quickly counts the words.

Camper 1, whispering to themselves: 295 words…

Camper 2, yelling: We need 27 more words in ten minutes, guys!

Camper 3 is sitting next to Camper 1. Camper 3 is writing a poem very slowly.
All the other campers and leaders have contributed to the war, and each cabin can receive this war only once.

Camper 1, aside: Two thousand words as a cabin… but literally everyone needs to contribute. And that includes the cabin mate next to me. They wrote 15 words, which means there’s 12 words left…

Camper 1, yelling: Guys! We have two minutes to write 12 words!

Camper 1, aside, reading the cabin wars rules list: Wait… but the war’s rules indicate that each person has to write at least 25 words.

Camper 1 exchanges a glance with all the other campers and leaders.

Camper 1, aside: What that means is that my cabin mate over here has to write the remaining 12 words…

In the meantime, Camper 3 wrote 8 words.

Camper 1, aside: They wrote 8 more. Which means there’s still 4 words and one minute and a half remaining. The last line in their poem reads “And then, an idea popped in my head.” Their poem is called “Inspiration”. I need to help them…

Camper 1 thinks for a second and then finds a line to match the theme of Camper 3’s poem.

Camper 1: Add “Like a light bulb turned on.”

Leader 2: There’s 30 seconds left…

Camper 3 quickly adds these six magic words.

All the Campers and the three Leaders, yelling (through a microphone): We did it! We have 2,002 words! We are saved from the water balloons and the loss of 1,500 points!

The Campers and the three Leaders keep celebrating while the curtain gets down.

Scene II
A quarter to five in the morning. Last week of Scratch Writing Camp. There isn’t any excitement or hubbub.
Leader 3 is playing a trumpet softly.
The Campers open their eyes slowly and see their three Leaders in front of them.

Leader 2: Sorry guys, we want to be all awake when the first war occurs.

Camper 1 seems to remember something.

Camper 1, aside: Cabin wars happen twice a session! And you aren’t allowed to war a cabin before 5 o’clock.

All the Campers quickly get dressed.
Camper 1 looks through the window and sees that everyone in Real-Fi is sleeping.
Excitement and hubbub is starting, again.
The Real-Fi campers and Real-Fi leaders are now getting dressed, having breakfast, etc.

Camper 1, aside: They seem to have forgotten about the strategy they used in the first cabin wars, the one we used today - waking up before five and preparing everything early.

Camper 1 takes the microphone and yells: War for Real-Fi! “Write 2,000 words as a cabin in the next four hours, but everyone needs to contribute at least twenty five words, or else, lose 1,500 points.”

Dystopian Camper (from off-stage, through a speaker): “Write 800 words as a cabin in the next two hours, or lose 500 points!”

Camper 1, aside: Great! An easy war. Thank you for keeping our shield up, siblings!

The Campers, except Camper 1, and Leaders start writing towards the war their nice sibling, Dystopian, gave them.

Camper 1, looking through the windows: Dystopian, Horror, Thriller, Mystery, Fairy Tales seem to be going nice… While other cabins… Not at all. Especially Real-Fi. Weird. They are classified as one of the most competitive and active cabins. Today, apparently, isn't their day… They seem… chaotic…?

Camper 1, seeing Someone with luggage going out of Real-Fi's housing: Wow! They are definitely dropping out… This month, a lot of leaders have dropped out, like Poetry's, Sci-Fi's, Adventure's, and now Real-Fi's? Wait, but are they a leader? Maybe not…

Camper 1 sees The three figures in the Real-Fi window, facing inside their cabin.

Camper 4 approaches Camper 1.

Camper 4, kindly: We were warred about fifteen minutes ago! Could you help us out?

Camper 1, distracted: Uh, sure!

Camper 4 walks back to their seat and keeps writing towards the war. Camper 1 follows them.

When the Campers and Leaders finish the war, Camper 1 approaches the Real-Fi window again.

Camper 1: Two of the figures have long hair. Those are the Real-Fi co's.

Suddenly, The third figure turns, now facing Camper 1 through the window.

Camper 1: They have blonde hair… Real-Fi's leader had brown hair. Uh-oh… That means…

While Camper 1 talks, the curtain gets down.

The end.

DAILY MARCH 6


The day my holidays started, I had expected to have a joyous experience. As the sun went back behind the buildings, and I rushed to my house from the playground, I had a slight headache. So, I ate my dinner as fast as I could. Immediately after that, I fell asleep.
As soon as I shut my eyes, a blurred vision appeared in front of me. It slowly became clearer, and I could see the signboard that led to my hometown. I walked along the dusty road until I could see the Welcome sign that signalled I was at my destination. I stepped inside, but it felt quite different. All the homes were larger, more lavish, and instead of the usual aroma of desserts, I could smell dried paint. I walked along the path, which had now become white and more grand. All the houses were bright and glistening, but the air felt gloomy. I closed my eyes again, and when I opened them, new things came into view. All the familiar people came into view, but there was something much different.
All the ladies were wearing flowing gowns and the men had on stiff suits. I wouldn’t have believed that this was my hometown if not for the fact that all these people were so familiar. I waved hello to our former neighbor, but she did not notice. I tapped her on the shoulder, but she onky waved. She did not even ask where my mother was, neither did she act like she cared. I tried to talk to other people, but the results were same each time.
I walked through the town some more, expecting to see the library with its usual comforting smell of books. But it was gone. The old, dilapidated building was now a tall castle, painted white like everything else in the town. On it’s left there was a large tree, in the place of the supermaket. It was an oak, with white flowers, which was odd, I was more than certain oaks did not hav eflowers, but maybe it wasn’t an oak after all. I did not pay it much mind though, and went in the direction of the snow-white castle, standing tall and piercing the sky with its tip. Even inside it, it looked like a castle, and not at all a library.
I decided to make this castle my home. After all, it seemed deserted. I chose the first room and sat down on the chair that lay at its corner. The bed was soft and fluffy, and there were pretty paintings hanging on the wall. There was also a wardrobe with white dresses and a small bookcase with a few books. As soon as I got up to look at them, the weather seemed to change, and as soon as I touched one of them, it was night, and I had a sudden urge to go to sleep. So that’s what I did. The next morning, when I woke up, I heard footsteps and immediately panicked. Who was out there?
Suddenly, the door flung open. A boy in a dirty jacket stood at the door. “Who are you?” He and I asked in unison.
“I’m-I’m Aria,” I said.
“And I’m—” He paused. “I’m Lucas,”
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“Ive been here for years, but you’re not from around here, are you?”
“I’m not. But how come Ive never seen you. After all, this is my hometown.”
“I have been stuck in this world. It is not the place you think it is. It’s a dream you can never escape.”
“Never?”
“I havent been able to, atleast.”
“Well,” I said determinedly. “We’ll get out.”
He nodded. “I will leave now. Let’s meet again at 2.”
I nodded and he left.
I looked at the books on the shelf. What had happened yesterday? I inched my way towards them, and the day seemed to change again, but I did not stop, and leaped on one of them. I flipped it open to the first page, and on it were the words: “1 hour, Clue= flowers.”
I leaped up into the air. It was only 10 minutes till 2 pm. I did not care, though. I searched for Lucas all around until I found him near the doorway out. “It’s locked, isnt it?” He nodded.
“I know how to get out.”
He looked at me with eyes as big as balloons, too astonished to say something. “Really?”
I nodded. “We have 1 hour, and our clue is flowers.”
“How did you know?”
“It was in one of those books who fast-forward the time. Where do we find flowers?”
“Nowhere but…” he hesitated. “That tree.”
I rushed to the tree, and he came along. But when I felt it, it was just an ordinary tree. I leaned against it, and a flower fell on my nose. But, except for landing on it, it went through me. I stood still. Those flowers were…odd.
“I think it’s up there,” I said, already starting to climb up. He followed suit. Under the leaves, there was a door, which I poked my head through. It was the outside world. My home. I told him to climb through, but when he did, he looked older. Eerily older. And just like— what my mother used to tell me. She had told me I used to have a brother, when I was really young, but he went missing and was never found. And when I looked back at Lucas, I realised.
It was him. It was my brother. He was back, and he wouldn’t leave now. I wouldn’t let him.

Main Cabin Daily 3/6

I partnered up with @_Littlelight_! Our prompt was, “a magic window”. The total is 418 words!

“Oh. my. gosh.” Those were the first words I thought when I encountered that magic glass in the library. I had stopped by after school to do some research for a history project. As I wandered the shelves, I came across a strange glass object about the size of a bathroom mirror. It was tucked between two bookcases. Weird, I thought to myself. I decided to ignore it. Later, as I was walking through a different aisle, I spotted the glass mirror again. Now, my interest was piqued. I wasn’t normally one to believe in magic, but if the same mirror could show up in two different places, it must be magic, right? So, I took the glass out from the shelves. It’s surface was dusty, like it hadn’t been used in a long time. And then, the most amazing thing happened. The glass started to glow. It flashed in every single color of the rainbow. First red, then orange, and so on. Suddenly, the dust began to disappear. All of the small dust particles vanished to reveal a smooth, clear surface. The mirror itself was quite plain. It was not very thick, with a silver border around the edge. Yet somehow I got the impression that it held great powers. Images began to flash across the screen. Images of lush countrysides and forests. As it zoomed in, I realized that the people on the glass were not actually people. They were much smaller and their ears were more pointed. I saw horns sticking out of their hats. They looked like elves straight out of a fantasy story! The image slowly began to fade. This time it was replaced with a starry night sky unlike anything I had ever seen before. Shining stars twinkled brightly against a deep blue and purple backdrop. Flying creatures swooped in and out of view. My eyes widened as I realized those were alicorns. They were just like the ones I had read about in story books! It felt like I was living in a dream. I stood there for a good ten minutes, frozen in awe and wonder. At last, the images began to fade and the mirror went blank. The dust particles slowly began to reappear, clouding the surface once more. I returned the mirror back to its place between the shelves. Standing there, I took a moment to reflect on what I had just seen. I could only describe it as one thing.
A window to a whole new world.

Weekly 1 - 2375 words

Part 1 - 331 words
Limerick - 35 words:
There once was a squirrel named Fred,
Who found an owl’s nest and made it his bed,
The owl told him, “Oh,
You just have to go,”
And now he has a bird’s nest instead!

Acrostic - 60 words:
With some rhyme you can keep it in time,
Rhythms, are too, very fine.
Intent on intriguing,
Though lots is fatiguing.
Every poem is simply divine!

Presented in all sizes and shapes,
Often where all the magic escapes.
Every poem new and super,
Typed upon a computer.
Rhythm helps the poet create
You all should try it, it is great!

Narrative - 68 words:
Rapunzel was a beauty model,
With hair of length,
And hair of strength,
She was a beauty before she could toddle.

She grew up to a life of crime,
With hands of a thief,
And mouth of disbelief,
Prison was her home in no time.

Up in the tall tower she went,
With hair so prolonged,
And true love so longed,
Up the tower her lover too went.

Soliloquy - 152 words:
Through March, I must always just write.
Want to stop me? Well try as you might.
The one thing I won’t do is stop.
Unless, of course, Horror is top!
My word goal not far too high,
Will I reach it, I wonder, will I?
My dream is to crush other cabins,
And fire at them with my cannons!

I do all chores whilst writing,
Along with food biting.
And, of course, word war fighting,
It’s all so exciting!

Dailies get Horror those points,
Not doing them all disappoints…
Weeklies just all stack on top,
So get on with it all chop-chop!
Word Wars secure the position
With them there is no competition!
Horror will always be first!
And never can that be reversed!

I do all chores whilst writing,
Along with food biting.
And, of course, word war fighting,
It’s all so exciting!
It’s all so exciting!
It’s all so exciting!

Haiku - 16 words:
Horror is in first,
‘Cos our points have had a burst!
And we aren't the worst!


Part 2 - 510 words
You probably ought to become a vegetarian if you have not already. Even if you are not ready to stop eating all meat, you can still eat a little less and over a while, you could slowly eat less and less meat, until you are entirely vegetarian. Another option would be to become a flexitarian, where you are mainly vegetarian but eat meat on special occasions. If you are already vegetarian, perhaps you could go down to the next level and become vegan! Vegetarianism is becoming more and more common around the world for a multitude of reasons. Some vegetarians love animals or simply do not like the taste of meat, whilst others want to save our planet. However, all vegetarians share something in common: they do not eat meat.
One reason eating meat is bad for the planet is because the water drunk by animals wastes a lot of water. When you eat meat, you essentially consume all the water that the animal has drunk in its lifetime. It is predicted that a pound of beef meat requires around 9000 pounds of water to produce. By contrast, it is thought that a pound of potatoes only needs 60 pounds of water to grow.
Another reason is that forests and woods are being cut down to provide space for the ever-growing cattle population. Around 40% of deforestation is to increase space for cattle and other farm animals to graze.
Animals also produce a lot of methane. When they fart, animals produce methane - much more than the average human. Approximately 90 million tonnes of methane is produced by livestock each year, whilst humans produce 1 million tonnes.
It is also scientifically proven that meat-eaters have a higher chance of getting illnesses, such as heart diseases, cancer and obesity, which no one really wants to end up with.
Some would say that a vegetarian diet could wield a higher carbon footprint to a meat-eater, as meat can be produced locally. This is possible, as fruits like avocados and mangoes may have high carbon footprints as they might have to travel across the globe to their destination. However, broadly speaking, a vegetarian diet yields a smaller carbon footprint to that of a meat-eater. Becoming vegetarian might also be fun, as you will learn new recipes that do not involve meat!
In conclusion, the diet of a vegetarian or vegan is usually better for the planet and sometimes an individual’s health. However, if you are considering one such diet, you must remember to make up for the loss of protein as you stop eating meat - meat-eaters get most of their protein from meat. A good source of protein for vegetarians and vegans is quorn, a type of mushroom. Nuts, on the other hand, contain little protein and will not fulfill your protein needs unless you eat them on a very large scale. That concludes my essay - I hope you have learnt something new about vegetarians today. It’s never the wrong time to make a change for the better and become vegetarian and/or vegan!


Part 3 - 701 words
Lights turn on to show MISS MASON at the right of the stage by a blackboard, with PUPILS at old-fashioned desks, joined together.

MISS MASON
(matter of factly)
My name is Miss Mason, and I’ll be your form teacher for this year.

PUPILS look at her with great interest.

MISS MASON
Today, you will be completing a scavenger hunt.

PUPILS ooh in excitement.

SOPHIE
But why, Miss?

MISS MASON
You need to learn to find your way around the school. Now, open your desks to find your maps.

PUPILS open up their desks and pull out flimsy paper sheets.

MISS MASON
GO!

PUPILS pause before slamming the desks down, and heading out of the classroom and offstage, wheeling their desks off with them. MISS MASON exits, wheeling the blackboard.

CATHERINE and AMELIA are the first to leave and once everyone is gone, they run back onstage, holding their map like treasure.

CATHERINE
(pointing in different directions)
If we go there, then there and round here and back here, we’ll find all the clues as fast as possible.

AMELIA
Sure - what’s the worst that can happen?

CATHERINE and AMELIA run back off stage whilst SOPHIE and OLIVIA run on from the other direction.

SOPHIE
Have you seen that Indian girl, Amelia?

OLIVIA
Why d’you ask?

SOPHIE
She was staring at me in class.

OLIVIA
(trailing off)
Well, I haven’t seen her since we left class…

SOPHIE
(relieved)
Good! I don’t want her staring at me.

OLIVIA pulls the paper map from her pocket.

OLIVIA
Where should we go next?


SOPHIE
That way!

SOPHIE points to the left of the stage and runs off with OLIVIA trailing behind.

AMELIA runs on stage holding the map, only going halfway to the middle.

AMELIA
(excited)
Look! The last letter is P!

CATHERINE runs on.

AMELIA
What do you think it means?

CATHERINE
(unsure)
I don’t know, an anagram, maybe?

AMELIA
Petocrum? That doesn’t sound right…

CATHERINE
(enthused)
Computer!

AMELIA
The Computer Room is not far!

AMELIA and CATHERINE run, looping round towards the back of the stage and then to the front, whilst MR SILVER walks on from the opposite side of the stage, wheeling on a desk with a computer.

MR SLIVER
Have you completed the Scavenger Hunt?
AMELIA + CATHERINE
Yes!

MR SILVER
Congratulations - You have finished first!

AMELIA and CATHERINE look at each other, delighted.

AMELIA
Cool! What do we do now?

MR SLIVER
Why don’t you have a go on the computer?

CATHERINE
Do you want to, Amelia?

AMELIA walks over the desk and turns on the computer. AMELIA and CATHERINE sit down at the desk. PUPILS begin to enter from both sides, walking in and sitting down on the stage.

MR SILVER
(sternly)
No shoving, it’s not a competition!

SOPHIE
(from offstage, frustrated)
Ughh! That took us too long to figure out! I hate anagrams!

SOPHIE walks onstage to find a mass of people standing around.

SOPHIE
We were here first! How did all of you get here before us?

OLIVIA walks on behind SOPHIE.

OLIVIA
(confused)
What’s all the fuss?

SOPHIE raises a white finger and points at AMELIA and CATHERINE angrily.

SOPHIE
(shouting)
They cheated. They must have done! No one playing by the rules could have completed the scavenger hunt that quickly! You chea-

MR SILVER
(interrupting)
Excuse me, but that is not how we behave here at this school. Please come outside with me!

SOPHIE
(protesting)
But they cheated!

AMELIA
(outraged)
We did not!

MR SILVER
(forceful)
Please, girls! Outside! Now!


AMELIA and SOPHIE are reluctantly led offstage by MR SILVER.

MR SILVER
(offstage, shouting)
Detention for arguing, the both of you!

AMELIA
(offstage)
But she started it!

SOPHIE
(offstage)
But she cheated!

MR SILVER
(offstage)
Amelia, you can have lunchtime detention. Sophie, you can have after school detention. Any more arguing and I’ll give you detention every day for the rest of this week. Understood?

A silence follows.

MR SILVER
Do you understand?

MR SILVER, AMELIA and SOPHIE walk back onstage, AMELIA and SOPHIE bearing sullen and ashamed faces. AMELIA walks over and joins CATHERINE at the desk.

AMELIA
(to CATHERINE, unhappily)
I got lunchtime detention.

CATHERINE
I think everyone in the entire school heard that.

Part 4 - 833 words
My Mean Arithmetic Test
It was time for our weekly arithmetic test on Friday 4th March 2022. Everyone else in the class was dreading it. I wasn’t too worried over my result, as there is always the chance to redeem yourself next week if you do badly.
When the papers were handed out, it was revealed they were different from the usual ones. From flicking through, I noticed there was much more space to do the working out, making it much easier than the normal ones - I hate it when the questions are cramped onto one page with no space for the calculations!
Once I had completed the 28 questions, which were noticeably easier than usual, I proceeded onto checking the answers one by one. Generally, I have time to check my questions three times in the forty minutes we are given. However, whilst I was checking my questions for the first time, I was distracted by the teacher handing out second test papers to everyone who had finished. Of course, the people who were finished were the people who rushed and spent the entire time doodling. Wanting to progress to the second test, I raced through the rest of the checking and notioned to the teacher for a second paper. Swiftly, I was handed one and I began to work through it. The test was more difficult than the first one, but still relatively easy. It consisted of 37 questions, and once I had completed them, I only had five minutes remaining. I tried to check all of them, but I only checked the first fifteen or so, meaning there were many left unchecked.
Whilst going through the marking, I noticed one of my questions from the harder paper was incorrect - it was one I had not checked! This irritated me: I had not been given the time to double check or even check most of my answers. Most of the other students probably didn’t even finish - it was an outrage!
After doing the test, I did some quick calculations. Usually, we have 30 questions and 40 minutes, meaning we have to complete an average of 0.75 questions per minute. However, on Friday, we had to complete an average of 1.625 questions per minute! The amount of questions we were expected to complete had increased by 116⅔%! We were expected to complete over twice as many questions in the same amount of time. It was an outrage!

How To Contribute To Your SWC Cabin
It’s halfway through Scratch Writing Camp, and you realise your cabin is fifteenth on the leaderboard. You are probably thinking that it is time to do something big for your cabin to give them a boost. However, there are often smaller things that lead to greater prizes. (Please note that following this guide will not automatically make your cabin rise in standings.)
One of the best things you can do is the daily - it is usually 500 words or less, making it relatively quick. It also gets you quite a lot of points! Often, the hardest thing to do with the daily is get started. Once you have done that, you can either spread the writing out during the day or do it in one go, depending on what you have on in real life and the length of the daily. Of course, you do not have to do the same strategy every day!
Another activity that you can do is a Word War. They are quick and you can even do two in one and do the daily or weekly for a Word War! These also get you 100 points, but only if you win, which can be slightly frustrating for slower typists.
If your main focus during Scratch Writing Camp is to improve your writing skills, weeklies are for you! They get you 4000 points or more and have four parts. It is recommended you spread out these four parts over separate days, otherwise you might not have time for the daily, which would be a shame. You might also have noticed that this very piece of writing that you are reading right now was written for a weekly. Unfortunately, weeklies are also hard to get started on and often even I find myself procrastinating on them. If you cannot complete a weekly, please do not stress - even half-completed weeklies still have words which add up for points at the end of camp.
My fourth and final way to get points is to write, write and write more! At the end of camp, every word you write will become a point. That means, if you write 1000 words, your cabin will gain 1000 points. It might not seem like that much, but once you add on the word counts of everyone in your cabin, it could give you a real boost. However, bear in mind that the same happens to other cabins, so this does not guarantee that your cabin will get any higher.

March 6th daily! I made up the prompt and I did it with Sawyer (@honeybreeze)
+367 words!
(TW: family death!!) Familiar eyes hurry through the fog. Those eyes of gold. Memories whip past me, just like the dust spiraling up into the air. I cover my nose and mouth with a loose rag hanging from my turtleneck. Coughing, I squint. Who is that? I dash through the sandstorm, dodging each obstacle in my path. As I begin to reach the end of the parkour, the smog and sand clears away.
“Good job, Hannah Mae!“ My instructor pats my back, ”Ready to wrap up?“
I nod, but my head is foggy, just like the air I just practiced in. Those eyes of gold…
”Hannah, are you OK?“ Amy waves her hand in front of my face. Amy is my best friend, my instructor, and sometimes my therapist. She could sense that I was up in the clouds.
”Um, yeah. I think,“ I reply, rubbing my fingers anxiously, ”I need some time to think.“ I walk away slowly, leaving Amy behind. Those eyes of gold.

I roll over in bed, the buzzing of my clock waking me up from my slumber. I didn't get much sleep; big bags under my eyes were visible from afar. All night, I couldn't stop thinking of those eyes. Those sharp, familiar, pure eyes of gold. The eyes felt like a warm touch to my honey skin. The touch of my mother. The eyes of my mother. I can feel Mother's consciousness connect to my soul. Linked together.
Tears begin streaming down my face, breath escaping me barely. She is gone, but still near at heart. I don't have enough time for a breakdown. I need to pull it together, open that door, and train as best I can.
A knock at the door alarms me. I remember Amy's knock: Knock. Knock…Knock. The pause is always one sweet second. ”Yes?“ I clear my throat and wipe away the tears. Amy peeks in, and once she sees my face, she lets go of the door and sighs. Sitting down next to me, she holds my hands, and looks me in the eyes.
”She is still here,“ She points to my heart, ”As long as you let her in."

Those eyes of gold.
—

Daily for Sci-Fi, doing it with with Eevee

I stand there quietly, trying to take in all the information I'm being told. Nineteen years old is pretty young for this job, so I'm going to have to prove I can handle it.
“The plants in the entryway are important, there's a watering can in the second-to-leftmost cupboard in the kitchen, each plant gets exactly half a can every two days as soon as you can upon arriving.”
I nod for the manieth time.
“Julia is usually not your responsiblilty, except on Wednesdays when her nanny gets the day off, in which case you will feed her at precicely nine thirteen, twelve on the dot, and six thirty-two, no other time, understood?”
That seems unreasonable and strange, but I still nod.
“That should be all. Go, to work!”
I nod yet again, and rush off.

Despite how incredibly busy I am now, a new job to complete every five minutes it feels like, the first few days of this job are a lot easier than I expected. The whole house gets cleaned twice a week, different areas of it on rotation, the very important house plants get their exactly half full watering can every two days, and when it's Wednesday I give five-year-old Julia her incredibly strict meals.
I've been here one week, two days now. And today I arrived slightly late. No one seemed to notice, miraculously, and so since it's a house plant day, I rush to fill the watering can the three and a half times that are necessary for the seven plants, giving the exact amount of water I'm sure they don't truly need. I'm dumping the water much less carefully than I usually do into the fourth plant, when a voice speaks.
“Hey, be gentle!”
I look around, frantic, startled. It takes me a decently long moment to realize who spoke.
“You're going to set off the curse again!”
It's the plant.
And it takes everything in me not to scream as loud as I can and run out the door. But I remember how desperately I need this job, where I'd be without it, and force myself to calm down as much as I can and face the plant.
“I'm sorry,” I say, trying not to panic or laugh, since my brain can't seem to decide which is more appropriate right now. “But, what curse?”
“The master, he made a terrible mistake, fifteen years ago now,” the plant explains, “and since then, everything has had to be perfect, or more of us will turn into plants! Even young Lady Julia's meals must be exactly perfect. No one wants their daughter to become a hosta, now do they?”
“No,” I answer, “no, I suppose not.”
“Thank you for understanding,” the plant continues.
“Wait- one more question.”
“Yes?”
“Were you once a human?”
The plant, had it a face, would be looking at me very incredulously right now I'm sure.
“Yes of course, dear girl! How else would I be speaking to you now?”
All I can think of to say is, “I don't know.”
(510 words)

daily for contemp

Beep.
Beep.
The machine was beeping steadily. It was the dead of night, and all other devices had been switched off- but not this one. This one was far too important- and unstable.
It needed to be ready for today.
Today, or nothing.

==

“Molecular transportation!”
“Check, ready!”
“Prepare for launch… backup measures, activate!'
The machine's humming increased. The scientists were having to shout over the noise of the unstable bleeps and other emissions of the room- yes, the room itself was lined with screens and wires. But the focus was a platform in the middle, glowing cyan and light gray.
On it was a plump, scarlet apple.
”Initiating, ma'am!“
”Ready!“
”Three-“
”-two-“
”-one-“
A buzz. The whole world seemed to hold it's breath. And on the platform, there was-
Nothing.

==

Thirty seconds later, the apple reappeared-

==

And cheering burst out amongst the scientists. There were claps for the lead engineer, hollers for the machine itself. Everyone was ecstatic- except for a young, pale, black-haired man. He just frowned. After a few seconds he muttered, quite loudly,
”There's a bit taken out of it.“
The whole room slowly went silent,
After a pause, the deputy scientist replied with an intelligent comment-
”What?“
The young man cleared his thought.
”There- there's a bite in the apple.
Everyone stared- at both the man and the innocent-looking fruit. They were- astounded.
“Well, how could this have happened?”
The chief scientist was staring at the young man. She raised her eyebrows.
“Well, good sir? Ah- Evan, isn't it?”
“Yes ma'am. What I believe to have happened is that the bit of the apple that has been bitten off is still there… the particles have just been rearranged.”
Silence.
And then,
“So, m-molecular rearrangement? But this means- this means-”
Awe dawned on so many faces.
“Surgery!”
“Engineering!”
“Brain and birth modifications!”
The feeling of excitement resumed, even more intense than at first. For everyone except Evan.

==

TWO MONTHS LATER

==

“… a serial killer, murderer of five, on the loose… suspect to a science experiment… new brain features… modified… superhuman abilities…”
Evan sighed and switched off the news. He had known this would have happened.


357 WORDSSSSS

Daily 6:482 words

Janet stood at the edge of clear, silent lake. They had to be there. They had to. She had been searching for this lake for ages, four hours at least. Janet had believe the old stories of magical, water-dwelling, dragon-like creatures that live in grand lakes within endless forest. No one had seen them before. Some say those creatures are extinct. But Janet, she wanted them to be real. She needed them to be real. Her little sister is really sick, the doctors aren't able to heal her. And Janet, she has not even got any money left since she threw them in fountains as wishes. When that didn't work, she had wished on every star in the night sky. When that didn't work, she broke her torch from trying to make a rainbow to wish on. Nothing, nothing, would cure her sister. So she traveled ,far from home, to searching for a grand lake in an endless forest. Her olive-green eyes set onto the lake. Janetr couldn't see what was at the bottom. She swallowed her fear down counted from 3…2…1. Janet jumped into the lake. Icy water closed around her. Her clothes were waterlogged and dragged her down,
down,
down,
and down.
Janet lungs started filling up with water. She she tried to swim in the murky darkness, trying to find the dragon-creatures. Her lungs were now half full with water. She couldn't swim. Janet was done for.
A light illuminated through the darkness. Two eyes emerged. Small, sleek wings unfurled. Light, blue scales shimmered in the water. And a soft voice spoke in Janet's mind like a beam of light in a dark whirlpool of confusion.
“What are you doing here?”
Janet's heart started beating faster. She started to breathe air, although she was in water. The water in her lungs disappeared. She stopped going down.
“You can make wishes come true, right? I wish for my little sister to be better.” Janet spoke clearly and confidently in her head.
The water dragon shook her head sadly.
“I can't do that.”
“I'm not joking.” replied Janet.
I know. But we can't actually make wishes come true."
"What!!? This is a lie. You're a lie!“ shouted Janet. ”I wished and wished so much, and none of them came true! You, you were my last hope, and you lied!!" Janet's eyes started to well up in tears. The water dragon sighed.
“Sometimes, wishes won't work. Sometimes, you can't do anything in a difficult situation. Sometimes, you just have to hope.”
“Hope?”Janet said, trying to keep her voice steady.
Yes, hope. When wishes aren't rational, they're unnecessary. So you hope, even more. You should always hope.
“Hope…”
Janet woke up in her bedroom. She went downstairs to the kitchen where she found a letter. Her sister wouldn't get any better . Janet made one final wish. She wished for there to be hope.

March 6th In-Cabin daily
~~~
The sudden downpour was certainly not expected. To say that it was a setback was an understatement.

Silver cringed as she felt her sneakers heavy with water squelch under her weight in the soggy soil. Her socks felt tight and cold as they pressed irritably against her skin and she couldn't imagine how waterlogged her clothes were becoming.

At first, the short Warrior didn't pay much attention when the sky started to grow darker and the air grew colder. Just a small passing of rainclouds, that's all. Her pace quickened when a few droplets started to sprinkle the ground. When the rain started to steadily come down, that's when she started worrying.

She, along with a couple of other Warriors, were commanded to patrol the outskirts of their camp. Silver decided it was a great idea at the time to go the extra mile and traveled to the outskirts of their territory just in case. Only now did she realize that she may have bitten off more than she could chew. With the sky dumping horses and mules to the ground (at this point, the weather passed the requirements for cats and dogs) she realized that jumping over thick tree roots, trudging through streams, and climbing over rocky hills to get back to camp wouldn't be such a smart choice in this weather. Unfortunately, the only logical choice at the moment would be to wait it out.

With only a small backpack filled with a half empty water bottle and a few snacks as well as an extra dagger, she quickly ducked underneath a stocky-branched tree and pressed her back against the damp soil. Fortunately there weren't any signs of lightning or thunder. Yet.

To pass the time, Silver unsheathed her trusty sword and jabbed it into the ground over and over again, feeling the sharp tip pass through the ground like a knife to warm butter. It wasn't the best idea seeing that she was in an extremely vulnerable position, but at least the action busied herself and drove boredom away.

So she stood there, trying so hard not to pay attention to her muddy skin or the filth that was collecting on her favorite maroon hoodie, or the fact that the rain was not going to be stopping anytime soon.

Admittedly, the sounds of the rain hitting the surface combined with the repetitive action of dirtying her weapon were quite soothing and if she weren't chilled to the bone, she would've fallen asleep. Thank goodness she didn't though, as someone else contributed to the ambience.

Someone in the distance was stomping towards Silver's tree, their footsteps loud and quick. The Warrior quickly ducked behind the tree and held her weapon with a tight grip and held her breath.

A Protector by the looks of it was sprinting towards the tree before letting it catch them as they slumped against the ground. Their chest was heaving and they were even more grimy than Silver was.

A Protector. Not a Warrior. An enemy. Or at least her division's enemy. She inhaled too sharply and the Protector's head shot up and gazed in her direction.

None of them spoke. None of them said a word. None of them even progressed towards the other, just staying in their own positions.

The silence was broken when a granola bar was thrown behind the tree.

Silver yelped, not expecting the sudden gift, but she got the message. The other person didn't want to fight. She quickly rummaged through her own bag and passed over a bad of off-brand chips.

The crinkling of packaging could be heard as both of them opened their snacks and silently ate, waiting for the rain to calm down together.

Main Cabin Daily, 3/6

“Hurry up!” the warrant officer called. His men obeyed, speeding up their advance. He lingered to watch the other soldiers, and one of his men grumbled: “hypocrite”. Janousek rolled his eyes but moved along. Unfortunately, he tripped and crashed against someone else. Swearing to himself, he growled a quick apology to whoever he bumped into, but was amazed when he saw Milunka Slavic blinking at him. He heard of her a few times before. Apparently she replaced her brother on the battlefield or something.
“Oh, um, hi!” He cringed at his casual words. “Milunka Slavic, if I am correct?” The woman nodded, although a bit annoyed that he knew her name before she knew his: “And you?” “Karel. Janousek.” He explained. “I, uh, came from Austria-Hungary.” He didn’t really say anything about him being captured and being a traitor, though, as he thought it would make a terrible impression. “I thought so,” she shrugged. She had heard the light accent on his voice. “Of course, I’m a… biological Serbian.”
“I hope it wouldn’t be impolite for me to ask this, but…” she paused, and Janousek stared at her, waiting for her to ask the question he knew she would. “Why did you come here?”
“Well, I…” he struggled for a better way to put it. “Defied. I didn’t agree with the Austria-Hungarian rule.” He wasn’t lying; he wasn’t very obsessed with the government of his birth country. But he left out the part where he was captured by the Russians and fought for them in hope of freedom after the war. Slavic nodded, indicating that she understood.
“I understand. Unfortunately, I need to leave now. I believe we will meet at a later time?” Janousek nodded, and watched as Slavic departed into the sunset. He turned around and called out to his men: “Let’s go.”

3/6/22
358 words
Prompt: “And then they rode off into the sunset.”
“What’s a sunset?”
“I dunno, but my grandpa saw one once.”

-

“And then, they rode off into the sunset.”

The story is wonderful, but Tommy ruffles his wings and tilts his head at Jorden.

“What’s a sunset?”

She only shrugs. “I dunno, but my grandpa saw one once.” Then she quiets her voice so much that he has to strain to hear it and whispers, “On the surface.”

Tommy’s heart flutters rebelliously at the older girl’s whispered confession. The surface is a dangerous place, and he shouldn’t think of it at all.

But there’s something so… thrilling about the thought. And though he would be beaten to a pulp should any of the masters hear the thoughts of his mind, he knows Jorden won’t tell. She’s good like that.

So he leans closer, so close their foreheads are nearly touching, and asks, “Did he survive?”

“Of course he did, silly. How else would we know about the sunset? But he said there were a whole bunch of wonderful things up there. The are the most beautiful colors up there, and he said the sun feels a thousand times better than the heat lamps down here. And there are animals everywhere, not just in pens and cages! There’s even animals with webbed hands, like me! They’re called fish.”

Tommy’s wings flutter and flickering hope erupts in his chest. “Are there animals with wings? Like mine?”

Jorden squints her eyes in thought before finally nodding. “I think he said something about flying things. They’re much smaller than you, though. I can’t remember what they’re called.”

How lovely must it be to be able to fly? Tommy’s never done it, and he knows none of the other avians have either, but the idea feels right. Like it’s what he should be doing.

That’s just silly longing. Tommy should be a big boy and squish it down, but he can’t work up the courage to.

“I wanna be able to fly like them,” he breathes out.

Jorden sighs wistfully and replies, “I know. One day, we’ll go to the surface, and I’ll swim with the fish, and you’ll fly with the other flying creatures.”

Tommy nods, and the flicker turns into a blaze.

Comparisons: (Copied and pasted from original comment)
We both had an older character telling a story to a younger character. We both had animals involved, yours being fully cat, mine being human-animal hybrids. They also both made promises/agreed to show the younger the outside world. On the other side, your story actually showed the characters going through with the promise, whereas mine didn’t. Yours has Warrior Cat vibes, but mine gives off more dystopian vibes I think? Also, my characters had people actively resisting leaving their confinement

Wari’s Journal
March 6th

I’m beginning to think that this journal is a good luck charm. After my last entry, I found two more helmet shards on top of one of the stone ruins during my afternoon foraging expedition. Here’s hoping that I’ll get fortunate again after I finish writing this one.

Today, I set off on morning patrol as usual, more set on finding shards than defending our borders. It’s been a long time since we’ve found any trespassers, and I had been beginning to consider these patrols as a waste of time.

However, this morning was surprising, to say the least. A person burst out of the undergrowth, heading straight toward our camp. She startled me half to death, and it was all I could do not to drop my spear.

After a few moments, I gathered my wits, and realized that she hadn’t seen me yet. So, I revealed myself, commanding her to halt.

I must have done a better job of hiding my own fear than I thought, because the poor thing looked like she was about to faint. Feeling abashed, I lowered my spear and tried talking to her.

She said that her name was Alex, and that she was one of the Protectors, apparently exploring the forest, not invading. Any suspicions I had quickly transformed into confusion as she pulled one of her division’s laurel shards out of a pouch and gave it to me “as a souvenir,” she said.

If it was some kind of ruse to get me to drop my guard, Alex must be a cunning actress. But I can’t see what use fooling me would be, since she didn’t linger long, only asking for directions to the Adventurers’ part of the forest before scampering off.

During the rest of the patrol, I had time to reflect on my encounter with the Protector. For the first time, I wondered if there was a bigger problem at stake, one that none of the factions has seen yet.

Maybe… maybe the Protectors and Adventurers aren’t responsible for breaking our precious talisman. But if they aren’t, then who—or what—is?

I need more time to think about this, which is why I didn’t report the trespasser on my return to the camp. I kept the laurel shard, too. It goes against all the rules and duties I’ve grown up with, but I have a sinking feeling that there is more to this than anyone realizes.

Alex said she might come back one day. If she does, I hope I can ask her more about what’s happening.

Loyal to the last (hopefully),

Wari
The Warriors’ Battalion
442 words

Oh dear this is long- anyway here's my weekly (2891 words if you were wondering):

Free Verse- Balloons

I float through the sky, when I see you,
My heart becomes helium, and I rise, rise, rise
Above, overcome all that has come before me,
Your eyes catch mine like flowers in the wind,
So now, when I float, I can float with you.


And when my heart falls, heavy like wet snowflakes,
I know you will catch me,
Soft on your tongue, the words still resonate
With the pitter-patter of rain outside.
Oh, can you smell the wet asphalt,
The summer sky swollen with clouds?
I still remember summer with you.

So this spring, will be a year now, no?
Promise it will be more than one.
Soon we will have to leave each other but I-
No, I will not forget

A Ballad to My Purple Heart
The first of them was charming,
As many good folks might claim,
But give it a year and all that you know
Is that friendship never really came..

And when we find the liar’s den,
We know where the second still lays
And when thou leaves to due depart
They’ll wander deeper into the cave

Oh, it was a great time back,
‘Twas the thrice distrubed of thee
But a stab in the back, a lonesome time,
Was a slap in the face to me

And so my heart has been broken,
Not once, or twice, but three
And though it may be broken again,
I’m happy to think I have found me.
Haiku- Guess *smirks*

It takes time to find
The absence of existence
You didn’t expect

Triolet- Rainy Day

You thought you’d seen the last of me,
When you left my heart in the rain
I watch the blood flow down the street
You thought you’d seen the last of me

But you will never be truly free,
For I am etched into your brain
You thought you’d see the last of me,
When you left me in the rain

Golden Shovel- Dreams
Based on Dreams by Langston Hughes
My life is on hold,
Again, I want to run fast,
Again I want to
Chase to my dreams
But they’re so far and for
The record the great deadline, the greater when
I will not carry my dreams
With me, to die,
With me, keep them in your box of life
And wherever that is,
I’ll be more than a
Memory, less than broken

We are all born winged,
But they are taken from us so we cannot be birds
The truth is that
We cannot
Lift off the ground, only in our dreams may we fly.



We have all done it: you’ve scrolled through YouTube for too long, and all of the sudden your phone is alerting you that you have 5%. Your heart sinks a little as it slowly drops more and more to 1%. You now have a choice: continue watching YouTube, or plug your phone into the charger that is right beside you. While many people would say that you should plug it in, I am here to convince you why you should not. ‘Don’t plug in your phone,’ you ask. ‘Why on Earth not?’ This is for three reasons: we don’t want robots to take over the world, 1% lasts for a long time, and you should probably get off your phone anyways.
The first reason is that we don’t want robots to take over the world. You’ve probably been on the internet and watched some scary video about Bezos or Zuckerburg or Musk. Do you really want a mega-computer to rule out all human thought? Of course not. Technology is expanding rapidly, and while it may seem like a stretch that plugging in your phone would lead to robots taking over the world, we want to keep machines reliant on us, and when it tells you to plug in your phone and you do, that means it’s taken control of you. ‘But Stormi,’ you’re thinking. ‘Aren’t you being a little paranoid?’ Maybe I am. But do you really want to risk it?
The second reason is that 1% lasts for a long time. You’ve seen that pop-up, stayed on your phone and had it last for well over twenty minutes. The fact is, phones lie to you. And you cannot endorse those lies. It’s like a little child telling you that they are starving when it just ate twenty minutes ago. It’s not actually starving. Your phone will be fine. Even if it doesn’t last for a long time, you can always plug it in again.
The third reason is that you should probably get off your phone, anyways. Many people- myself included- spend many hours a day on their phones. While doing a project for school, I found that the average amount of time people spent on their phones daily (at my school) was 6 hours. Taking breaks from technology has many benefits, and if your phone is about to run out of battery- again- it may be time to take one. Instead of scrolling through another YouTube rabbithole of misinformation, try learning a new skill, like cooking.
To sum up everything I have said so far, you shouldn’t charge your phone next time it reaches 1% for three reasons: we don’t want robots to take over the world, 1% lasts for a long time, and you should probably get off your phone anyways. I can assure you, if you follow this advice, your phone will run out of battery a lot more than it is now. And even though that may sound scary, a world run by a computer program sounds a lot scarier to me.


(We see a young girl, CHILD, perhaps eight, with bright pink hair and mismatched clothes, doing cartwheels and dancing. She is the embodiment of joy, and her skin changes colors as she moves. As the light moves away from her and shines onto another woman, MOTHER TRUTH, who is perhaps fiftyish. Her hair, skin, and clothes are a dull gray, and she sits properly, while glaring at CHILD. The spotlight switches to both of them, and now we see CHILD drawing a portrait of herself, with bright blue lips and floating hair.)

MOTHER TRUTH: (Harshly) Child, sit down. Lips are not blue and hair does not float.

CHILD: (Excited to see Mother Truth, just noticing her.) Are you Mother Truth?

MOTHER TRUTH: I am.

CHILD: (Runs up to Mother Truth and hugs her.) Really? That’s so exciting! I’m going to be just like you when I grow up, but right now I’m still small. Anyway, I’ve been waiting for you all day! You should see what I built in the backyard. And I can introduce you to my best friends! (CHILD pulls at MOTHER TRUTH and leads her across the stage, to the backyard. MOTHER TRUTH sniffs.) See? Look! I built a palace!


MOTHER TRUTH: (Looks, to see nothing there except a cardboard box.) Child, that isn’t a palace. That is a box.

CHILD: (Looks at Mother Truth strangely.) Why of course it’s a palace. I built it today just to show you. (CHILD picks up a stuffed animal.) And this is Gerald. He’s my friend. We go on adventures together with Captain Cuddles. (CHILD picks up a stuffed hippo and whispers to Mother Truth, so Gerald cannot hear.) Captain Cuddles is my best friend, but don’t tell Gerald or you’ll hurt his feelings.

MOTHER TRUTH: (exasperated.) Child, those things don’t have feelings, don’t be silly.

CHILD: (Hurt) Why would you say that? Of course they do.

MOTHER TRUTH: No, you stupid girl, there’s nothing in those things but cotton.

CHILD: (Calmly, without missing a beat.) And there’s nothing inside of you except for air. (She crawls inside the “castle” and calls in Mother Truth after her. She looks behind her to make sure that Captian Cuddles and Gerald are with her.) Welcome to my palace! We’ve got all sorts of desserts here, like ice cream and cookies and cakes and pies! We’re going to have a tea party. Oh, it will be just lovely! Come in here with me, and you can have whatever you like. (CHILD crawls out of box to hand Mother Truth a tea cup.) Please?

MOTHER TRUTH: This cup is empty, girl.

CHILD: No it’s not. Look inside.

MOTHER TRUTH: (Shocked.) Where did you get this tea from?

CHILD: I imagined it, and it was there. Oh, isn’t that wonderful? Please, come inside, there’s so much more for you to have.

MOTHER TRUTH: (Sarcastically.) Oh, yes, I would love to play with your imaginary hippo and giraffe friends, and eat cake conjured out of thin air. (Realizes Child thinks she is being serious and doesn’t understand sarcasm.) No, girl. You don’t imagine things like this. You can’t imagine stuffed animals to come to life, you don’t imagine palaces made from cardboard boxes, you don’t imagine desserts made from nothing. Those things don’t exist.

CHILD: (Frowning) But you can see it, can’t you? (Gerald and Captain Cuddles run out of the Palace holding cookies and teacups.)

MOTHER TRUTH: You can’t see things that don’t exist.

CHILD: You just have to believe that it’s there. (CHILD opens her palm and six sparkly purple butterflies fly out of it.) How can you not believe something is there when it’s so obvious?

MOTHER TRUTH: Because that’s not how the real world works, child.

CHILD: This world isn’t any less real than yours.

MOTHER TRUTH: (Frowns) Little One… when you imagine things, they aren’t really there.

CHILD: But I can see them. I can smell them, I can taste them, I can feel them.

MOTHER TRUTH: Yes, but that doesn’t mean they are really there.

CHILD: Well then how do I know what really is real?

MOTHER TRUTH: It's sort of like when you fall asleep, and you dream about something, and then you wake up, and nothing has changed.

CHILD: (Smiles) Sometimes I don’t think I’m dreaming.

MOTHER TRUTH: Little One… your hair can’t float.

CHILD: Why?

MOTHER TRUTH: Because gravity pulls it down.

CHILD: So?


MOTHER TRUTH: If we didn’t have gravity, we would all just float away, not just our hair.

CHILD: That would be cool. Then I could fly.

MOTHER TRUTH: No, it wouldn’t, because if we floated far enough we would all die.

CHILD: Why?

(MOTHER TRUTH sighs and looks at all the treats around her. Captain Cuddles and Gerald had finished their snack and were now bouncing on the floors.)

CHILD: It’s so real. How could things not be like this?

MOTHER TRUTH: It’s not a palace, Little One. It’s just a game

CHILD: Aren’t games real?

MOTHER TRUTH: No more real than imagination.

CHILD:Why isn’t imagination real?

MOTHER TRUTH: Imagination itself is real, but not what you pretend.

CHILD: In the books I read they say that imagination is a powerful tool.

MOTHER TRUTH: Of course it is. I want you to be imaginative and creative.

CHILD: Then why are you telling me it isn’t real?

MOTHER TRUTH: Little One, you still have so much to learn. Creativity is only good if you can harness it to make something productive.

CHILD: Like this palace?

MOTHER TRUTH: No, Little One. This palace isn’t real.

CHILD: (Sadly) Oh, I thought it was.

MOTHER TRUTH: Captain Cuddles and Gerald can’t really talk like that.

CHILD: But-

MOTHER TRUTH: You made it all up, Little One. That’s how the imagination works.

CHILD: It seemed real. (Child sniffs sadly.)

MOTHER TRUTH: Child… Don’t be upset. There is a world out there for you that is real. This just isn’t possible.

CHILD: But can the giraffes talk?

MOTHER TRUTH: No.

CHILD: Can there be palaces in my backyard?

MOTHER TRUTH: No.

CHILD: Can my hair float?

MOTHER TRUTH: No.

CHILD: (Crosses arms stubbornly) Then I’d rather not live there.

MOTHER TRUTH: Little One, we’ve been over this! Please, just listen to me. You can’t live in your imagination. You can’t daydream all day. It’s not… normal.

CHILD: Why do I have to be normal?”

MOTHER TRUTH: Because if you aren’t, no one will like you.

CHILD: (eyes fill with tears.) No one likes me?

MOTHER TRUTH: It’s an easy fix. First, let’s talk about your hair. (Light fades as CHILD’s hair fades to brown.



For people wondering why Women's (or black, AAPI, LGTBQ+, etc.) history (month) is important: In many cases, minorities have been ignored- both in general and in history. Many text books only feature straight white men, or exclude the fact that inventions were actually made by someone who wasn't a straight white man. This is a problem for a couple of reasons. First of all, it shows women and other minorities that they are inferior and unable to do those types of things. While straight white men- -have plenty of role models to look up to, other people don't. This is one of the reasons you don't see as many women in STEM- not because they are naturally less interested in it but because they are socialized to thing that STEM is a men's thing. Secondly, it shows other people that those people aren't capable of doing things. Using the previous example of women in STEM, it shows men that women can't be good at STEM, when obviously this is incorrect. While this bias may not be conscience, it still may affect the person who has it. The purpose of women's/black/AAPI/LGTBQ+ history (month) isn't to take away from the history of straight white men. It's simply to show other sides of it. History, inherently, should be equal, and if you are only showing one people's past then you aren't showing everyone's past. But, something that is equally important is that it gives minorities someone to look up to. All in all, these things do serve a purpose. So whenever you complain that you have a black/ women's/ LGTBQ+ history unit in school, instead be glad that it's giving people a voice to look up to. As an asexual, I have had a really hard time finding representation in the media- even when there is an asexual character, which is rare, it doesn't do a good job showing it- take Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory. This leads to a huge lack of understanding on what asexuality really is. And while I did- just go off on a tangent, that applies to many other subjects- racism, ableism, and yes, sexism. When your only given one or two narratives on what a culture is (thanks, common media) that prevents you from truly knowing and understanding something. Women are more than just objects and caretakers, which is something we have been painted as for a long time. When women's history month is done correctly, it showing just one more narrative. And come on. It's a month out of the year. That shouldn't be your only reason to respect women.


When I first heard the term asexual, I was thirteen. The term seemed so correct, it described everything that I felt…. Or didn’t feel. But at the same time, it felt forced. I was so scared to give myself a label that didn’t accurately describe me, even though it seemed to fit me perfectly. What if it was just because of my age, or how I was raised? I would take things slow, and wait until I was older to see if that label changed it’s meaning for me.
A good bit later, I met my now best friends, we’ll call them Kai, Linda and Emma. As soon as I met them, I knew I liked them. Especially after having spent a year in isolation, I really didn’t have very many friends. But these people seemed perfect for me. They had the same music taste as I did, as well as many of the same interests, and they just seemed to… understand me. We bonded quickly. I had never met a single person I had gotten along with so well, let alone three. A few months into our friendship, I was talking to Kai. I mentioned that I didn’t want to get married, and explained to them why. “Have you ever heard the term asexual? I think you might be.”
And that was the first time anyone else use that term on me. Kai, while not being ace themselves, made me feel much more comfortable with that term, and introduced me to their aro/ace friend. When I talked to Linda and Emma about it, they were both equally supportive.
Even though it took a while, I have now grown comfortable with that title. I now know that I am asexual and aromantic. Perhaps one day I will become something else, and that’s okay. Sexuality is fluid. But for now, I am happy to have a label that actually suits me. For me, the term “straight” was nothing more than a compulsion, because I lacked those feelings towards women. But I had never really felt anything for men either.
It wouldn’t be accurate to say that everyone was as supportive as my friends. People have told me that I needed to “pick a gender,” that I had a “hormonal deficinecy”, or that I was “useless”. But because I have such supportive friends, that is okay. I know who I am, and that is the only thing that matters.

main cabin daily ⍋ 03.06.22
word count: 586

>> Credits to Sushi (@melovesushi) for Camille Sobong (she/they) and myself for Ryna Corado (she/her)! Also to Katie (@majesticMiddleschool) for doing this daily with me

>> Prompt: Ending the story with blowing stuff up >:]

She nearly died like a rat.

Down, dark in the murky sewers, covered in filth and scrambling for survival. The guards were closing in on her, the synchronized thuds of their boots louder and louder. With the concrete floor above her blocking any transmissions, she was completely and utterly trapped.

“Hands up, Sobong!”

Camille screeched to a halt. The guards had caught up to them quicker than they expected. Clutching the silver diadem in one hand and a wrist-length taser in the other, they chuckled as they glanced over their shoulder, counting five guards total.

“One can wish.”

Camille dropped to the ground, striking a guard in the ankle with her taser. As the guard fell to the ground, she rose, narrowing their umber brown eyes at the other four.

Another charged headfirst at her, whom she sidestepped with a mischievous smirk. Pinning them down with her foot, she unsheathed her dagger and used it to block the blows coming from the guard on their other side. With a sharp elbow to the face to one and a taser jab to the other, both guards fell into the turbid sewage water.

Getting rid of the final two guards was no trouble at all. Resheathing her dagger triumphantly, she patted the inside of her purple coat, ensuring the diadem was still there. Turning their back to the unconscious guards, she reached up and unlatched the sewer hatch above her head.

“Now, now, where do you think you’re going?”

No. Not them again.

The Golden Triad stood in all their glory, holding aureate ranger equipment and severe glares. The center ranger, however, had a sly smirk creeping across xyr face instead.

“Hand over the diadem, Sobong,” Xe said. “It rightfully belongs to the Aurelian Society.”

Camille smirked. “Tell that to my paycheck.” She gripped onto the hatch and pulled herself up, gasping at the fresh air that hit them as they did so. She pushed herself into a running position and bolted across the empty plaza, leaving knocked over tables and vendors in her wake. The Golden Triad hadn’t been discouraged in the slightest, and instead pursued them with a harsher vigor than last time. An electric arrow whizzed over Camille’s shoulder, scorching the roof of a nearby street sign.

“Hey, Camille! Over here!”

Ryna Corado was known for a grand total of three things: blowing things up, untimely life-saving entrances, and blowing things up. This moment fell into all the categories.

Camille grinned at the sight of her best friend, changing directions and hopping on the back of Ryna’s hoverboard. “Do you have the diadem?” Ryna inquired as she tossed Camille a helmet.

Camille nodded, patting her jacket pocket. “You did remember to fix this thing, right?” they questioned with raised eyebrows.

“I think so,” Ryna replied. “If not, I think I already wrote up a will for us, so I think we’re covered.”

Before Camille could protest any further, Ryna yelled, “Hang on!” and stomped on her hoverboard, launching the two into the sky. Camille managed to grip Ryna’s shoulders just in time to keep herself from falling to the ground, glaring at the chocolate brown hair that was now in her face.

“By the way, did you remember to check if the Triad had backup?” Camille asked as they zoomed away.

They could practically hear the smirk in Ryna’s voice. “You should know me better by now. I take no chances.”

The sound of the plaza blowing up was a merry tune to their victory.

3.6 daily

partnered with @whiiskers
the prompt is: “what if the sun never rose again?”

448 words


I dipped my hand into the cool, fresh water, watching the ripples sprout from my fingertip. I saw my reflection in the pond, the large full moon behind me. My hair was a mess, a big red tangle full of twigs and dirt and my raggedy old dress was covered in grass stains. I sighed, staring up at the stars. I saw a dozen spaceships flying in a perfect horizontal line. My nostrils flared in anger. These spaceships and the creatures inside of them had sucked away all of the daylight from our planet. Stolen it for their own place. It was very illegal to do so, meaning they had just ignored many treaty's we had made. But they were too powerful to be stopped. A full blown war was going on in Durtania, a planet south of us, which was very humid and was full of cracked ground and dead grass and tumbleweed. But from the latest news reports, we were losing. My father was in that war, not directly fighting in the war with gxns, but on a top secret mission to steal back the jar of sunlight. From what Mama told me, that wasn't going as planned as we had hoped. Poor Mama. She was stressed, exhausted, and working her hump off to take care of me and my five siblings, all being younger than me. I slipped off my worn shoes and stuck my feet into the frigid pond. I sucked in a sharp breath, then relaxed, kicking my feet back and forth.
“Celeste! Celeste!” I heard my little sister Avis shout.
I jumped up, watching her little feet pound on the ground as she ran toward me.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Mama said she has news and wants to talk to you.” Avis said, out of breath.
I gasped, leaving my shoes by the pond and sprinting home. I felt a little guilty for leaving Avis alone, but my legs wouldn't stop.
I slipped into our makeshift home made of sticks and cloth. Imagine a tipi. That's basically what it looked like. Mama was sniffling and wiping away tears when I walked in. I dropped to my knees beside her.
“Oh, Mama. What's wrong?” I asked, grabbing her hand and trying to stay calm. A million thoughts and questions buzzed in my mind.
“Oh Celeste,” Her voice cracked. “T-the jar. O-o-of the remaining sunshine. It was destroyed. And we're losing the war. A-and we can't beat them. And sunshine can only be used twice. So-so if we got it back, it would be useless.”
I felt all the remaining hope in my body seep out. We would never see the sun again.

.

Daily 3/6/22
Pair is @kimmie2711
Prompt: A family of lives in a school, but decides to escape because they were treated unfairly. (I chose erasers)

No!!!!

I felt a human's hand wrap around me. I knew what it was going to do, even before the human did it. Not now! Our eraser family had planned to escape the following day. We had risked our lives more than once to plan our escape, and everything had to go according to plan for it to work. That means no being used in art class. Please! Put me down!
No such luck. Because then, suddenly, the world went black.

The next thing I knew, I was safely in a pink basket, our eraser home. I didn't know how long I was asleep, but I knew it was way past our escape time.
“Brown? Wake up! Are you hurt?” I turned (or, flipped) around to see Swirl crouching and looking worriedly at me. Swirl was my older sister, and maybe the only eraser in our family that cares about my feelings. I ignored her questions. “Where's Dark and the others?” I turned (again, flipped) around our basket to look for my father and the rest of the family. Am I too late? Did the others go on without me, because I was hurt?
As if she could read my mind, Swirl comforted me. “It's okay, Brown. We'll escape together and find the others later.”
I looked at the art room door, uncertain. Slowly, I nodded, or at least I tried to. Erasers don't have heads.
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Swirl looked at me, tilting her head. Well, I thought she was tilting her head. Erasers don't have heads, you see.
I tried to nod again. “Let's go.”

Slowly, we began to tip the basket, careful not to disturb the humans. Once we were out, we hopped off the table.
“When I say run, run for the door.” Swirl's voice sounded besides me. I nodded, or tried to.
“RUN! NOW!” As soon as I heard her signal, I ran. I ran like I never ran before. I ran like didn't care about anything else in the world. I ran and ran and ran. I didn't stop running until I was safely out of the art room and in the hallway. Well, “running” was more like flipping and rolling across the floor. The point is, I “ran” until I escaped. From the art room, at least. It wasn't until a few moments later that I realized my mistake. I was missing something.

The door was almost completely closed behind me. It was already too late. If I tried to squeeze into the art room again, I would surely get squashed. For a moment, I heard a voice. A voice I would always remember. A voice that always comforted me whenever I was sad or embarrassed or treated unfairly. A voice that can no longer be heard.

Swirl.

Swirl, my loving sister. Swirl, the only eraser that cared about me. Swirl, who will be trapped in that art room with humans forever.

Today was supposed to be that happiest day of my life. It's not. It's the complete opposite.


Word count: 509 words
New total: 717 words

March 6, 2022
MC Daily
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Daily done with @Sunclaw68 from Fairy Tales
Prompt: The truth was a cave on the mountainside / I'd seek it out 'til the day I dixd

The sun was extra brutal today, but I tried not to let it get to me. After all, I was so close. So close. I paused to catch my breath, leaning against a tall tree. Its leaves offered a little bit of shade while I sat on the dusty road. I really hated this part of the trip. The semi-arid climate was very unflattering, and I could constantly feel the sun’s harsh rays on my back. It was like there was an oven radiating its heat onto me. Even 90 million miles away, the sun’s wrath was undeniable.

I tried not to think about all the things that sucked in my trip. Instead, I dreamed about riches and speeches and science journals and fame. All things that would come when I finally reached the end. And when I say end, I mean the heart of the mountain. A large chamber caved into the mountain’s east side. I wasn’t even 100 percent sure it existed. But if it did, the rewards would be immeasurable.

I took a long sip of the bottled water I carried with me. The good thing was, I didn’t have to worry about saving resources. At least not yet. I wasn’t a poor man, leaving my home in desperate search of treasure, the one thing that could save the jarring life I lived. I wasn’t like American colonists, trying to navigate through harrowing new land and struggling to come up with enough food. No, I was an average middle class person, working the usual hours as a biologist. I had a steady income and a car and house, and enough money to fund my investment. I was going to be the first person ever to make it to the Ursa Imperia. The Bear Empire.

It was a legend. Most say it doesn’t exist. But science doesn’t lie. I’ve seen the evidence. I’m sure it’s real. Which is why I’m going to prove it. I wasn’t sure what sort of adrenaline came over me when I decided to drop everything and find the Ursa Imperia. I think there was something inside of me that longed for an exciting life. But anyway, it was too late now.

I carried all my precious science equipment with me. At least, all that I could afford to bring along. Every night I went to sleep. Dreaming about the Bear Empire. Imagining all the new species that could be hidden there. Maybe the bears living there aren’t even bears.

The Bear Empire was special. Bears don’t live in caves. At least, not permanently. Maybe they’ll sleep in one or hibernate in one, but they don’t live in one. Especially since there isn’t a viable food source in caves. But the bears residing in the Bear Empire, they’re different. They have never left the cave. Ever. And I need to know why. It’s not like caves are the biggest thing ever. If the bears grew in population, they would have to immigrate out. Except they haven’t. Not a single living being has seen a bear from the Bear Empire, and I hope I can be the first. Evidence suggests that the bears are quite docile. They probably aren’t exposed to many threats and don’t have a reason to be hostile. Maybe I could befriend them, who knows.

It was also likely that the animals living in the Bear Empire aren’t even bears. All the mystery and anticipation makes my fingers tingle and my head spin. I had no idea what lay ahead of me. I had no idea if I would come out of this alive. But it’s too late now. I sat up and continued walking, my legs throbbing with each step.
(619 words)

Comparison: Woww, so me and Sun's stories are really different. But as for similarities, we both used the same prompt, so our characters have the same motive and similar personality traits. Our characters also feel sort of outcast from society and embark on this journey to prove themselves and give themselves meaning. The plot is also pretty similar, again, because we used the same prompt. We also both used 1st person. For differences, I think Sun's writing is more reflective, while my writing is more expository. I also think my writing had more of a plot. Sun's writing also seemed to focus more on the person the protagonist is seeking and their importance, while my writing is more focused on the protagonist themselves. Also, Sun wrote about someone searching for this important god figure called Arthur, and I wrote about someone searching for a mysterious bear population xD.
(147 words)
~~~~~
I feel like this daily took a lot longe than usual. Which probably isn't surprising, since it had two parts. Anyway I have this really big assignment to do so I should probably get to that. Bye!