1. Thriller Rift Challenge 3: Shadow Schedule
2. Daily 7/11: Emotional Scene Without Dialogue or Inner Thoughts
3. Daily 7/15: Object Giveaway
4. Weekly 7/10-7/16: Newsletter
5. Daily 7/16: Two-and-a-Half Minute Experience
6. Daily 7/17: Story with Same First and Last Sentence
7. SWC Writing Competition Submission: Star Strings
8. Daily 7/18: SWC Fanfiction
9. Daily 7/19: Story Without Setting
10. Word Wars Proof 1
11. Writing Critique by @Figurative_Wings
12. Weekly 7/17-7/23: Fantasy
13. Word Wars Proof 2
14. Daily 7/25: Cabin Description
15. Daily 7/26: Setting 100 Years into the Future
16. Word Wars Proof 3
17. Weekly 7/24-7/30: SusWC Story
18. Daily 7/30: Literal Idiom
19. Daily 7/31: Thank yous

Rift Challenge #3

9:03 AM

I slink back into my human’s bed. She and her parents held a large party the night before, so she was waking up late this morning. I had spent the early morning chasing her mother’s shadow around the yard. I went swimming that morning, just before the sun came over the horizon.

10:20 AM

My human is downstairs now. She read for a while upstairs before coming downstairs. She greets her sister while I greet her sister’s shadow. Her sister’s shadow had spent the night curled up in bed with her human. For breakfast, my human decides to eat toast. She’s reading a book, so I decide to risk sneaking off to the pantry to steal a seaweed snack. I love seaweed.

12:03 AM

My human is now in her study room. She is writing something for something she’s doing - a camp, maybe? She’ll be busy for hours. I see my friend Flappy the Bird’s shadow outside, and I dive out the window. I greet her, and she takes me flying with her through the sky. Wait - there’s another human looking up! They can’t see two random shadows flying in the air! Hide!


Phew - we’re safe underneath the shadow of a tree. We can turn invisible under other shadows, you know.

12:48 AM

MY HUMAN IS GETTING UP! MY HUMAN IS GETTING UP AND I’M NOWHERE NEAR HER! CODE WHITE! CODE WHITE! Flappy flies me back to my house and I slip behind my human just as she gets up. Crisis averted! She’s going downstairs to get a snack - probably some cauliflower crisps. I know everything about her.You could say I’m her best friend.

1:04 PM


Back to writing for my human. I wriggle into one of the many, many books on the bookshelf above her and start reading. I’m trying to read every book she’s ever read.

3:34 PM

My human stretches, her limbs popping, and I stretch with her. I’ve read a lot, and I’m ready for a stroll. As my human returns to her work, I squeeze under a few doors and pop outside. It’s so hot, and after only a few rounds of the block, I return back to my human’s room.

5:00 PM

My human is really being boring today. I grab her phone off of the dresser where she can’t see me and read through her texts. Oh, she’s been invited to a party! That’s fun for her and me!

7:22 PM

Dinner time! My human picks at her puri chana, but I gleefully steal bites off of her plate. Yum!

8:04 PM

My human has to wake up early the next morning, so she goes to bed early as well. I’m very tired and I can barely keep my eyes open! She snuggles down into bed, and I snuggle down with her. It’s time to fall asleep so we can start a new day tomorrow.

Daily 7/11

In the middle of a blazing inferno, a single boy sits, hunched over a piece of paper. Flames lick at his skin, but they do not burn him and he does not seem to notice.

The paper is black and curling, but the boy clutches it to his chest desperately. He makes a soft, low cry in the back of his throat, and he begins to shake horribly, like he could fall apart at any moment.

He looks at the paper again, bending over like an invisible hand is pushing him down.

It is at that moment that he begins to cry.

He tries to hold it back at first, but soon he is gasping out huge sobs, tears cascading down his cheeks to land on his knees and the half-blackened paper.

A girl steps out of the raging flames. The boy's head snaps up, and the girl drops to her knees beside him. The boy sobs and falls against her. Her arms circle him, running her fingers over his hair and down his back.

She holds her hand out, but the boy shakes his head. He presses his hands into the scorched ground beneath him, and the message could not be clearer: I am not leaving. The girl sighs. She sits next to him and gently takes the paper from the boy, but the moment she touches it half the paper flakes away to black dust. The boy lets out a cry, and the girl drops the paper instinctively.

The moment the paper touches the ground, it bursts into flames.

The boy screams. It's long, broken, drawn-out, world-shattering. He jerks away from the girl and claws through the dirt, searching for the scraps of a paper that no longer exist. He whirls on the girl, eyes pinwheeling madly. The girl throws up her hands, backing away. Her eyes are wide, and she looks terrified. The boy advances on her, hands molded into rigid sticks.

The girl's eyes are pleading. Please. Please stop!

The boy freezes. His eyes flicker across the girl's face. Then his face crumples.

He turns around and dashes away into the flames.

***

The girl arrives in the same parched clearing the next day. The flames are gone, but the surrounding homes that have now been reduced to charred piles of wood still belch smoke into the air. The grounds smolders beneath her bare feet.

She sinks to her knees and starts sifting through the ashes that coat the ground, evidently searching for pieces of paper from the day before. There is almost nothing there but dust and smoke.

Her fingernail snags on a piece of something solid. With infinite care, she scrapes the dirt coating the piece of paper aside.

-ake care, my loves, ple-

Tears fill the girl's eyes, but unlike the boy's, these tears are less desperate. They are deep, and they ache, and they are maybe the only thing still holding the girl together.

She presses her lips to the piece of paper, then closes her fist around it.

The last of the paper flies off into the wind.

Daily 7/15

tw)) this story is slightly darker and has some themes of depression/murd3r/weaponry

Crafted out of white porcelain with a sprawling green tree in the center, the plate has hung on the wall for as long as I can remember. It's strange, because my mom is generally quite minimalistic, and the plate is the only decoration in our house besides a picture of my mom and me that hangs in my mom's room.

I once asked my mom why the plate hung on our living room wall, and she just told me to continue chopping carrots for the soup she was making. I tried to touch it with my grubby six-year-old fingers, but she rapped the back of my hand sharply with her wooden cooking ladle.

“Never touch that, Laila. Do you understand me? Never touch that.”

I was a generally rebellious child - I spent nights on our house's flat roof, laying out blankets and pillows and watching the stars without my mom's permission, and I passed hours biking on the rocky trails in the state park near our house - but while my mom knew about these, she didn't ever care. The look in her eyes, though, when she told me to never touch the plate was enough to scare me away from the plate forever.

Our house was a bleak picture of blank white walls, cupboards half-filled with just enough dishes and utensils to sustain my mom and me without having to do the dishes every day. I had placed blue and purple pillows around my room to color my stripped white bedsheets, chair and desk, and wood floor. On the rare days my mom insisted I stayed in the house, I took to sitting in our living room, cross-legged on the floor, looking up at the strange white plate. The tree's branches looked indented into the plate, but the leaves made of sparkling green gemstones twinkled like the skies brimming with stars that I sometimes stayed awake to see. I didn't know if the gems were real or fake, and I never asked, but I could understand why someone might love the plate. It was beautiful. I didn't know why my mother loved the plate, because she had never loved beautiful things, but I loved it.

Looking back, I think the plate's beauty was my downfall. I had always loved beautiful, shimmery things, like the sunlight filtering through the trees to wash the whole world with soft green and gold light, or the cloak of the black night stretching to endlessness above me, sprinkled carelessly with stars. I stayed away from the plate for years.

I never had a good relationship with my mother. I hated that she never told me anything about her life before me, or her family, or of my father, besides the fact that he died years ago. I liked the freedom she gave me, but I hated that she didn't care even if I was okay or not. I hated that I couldn't get purple bedsheets or hang pictures on the wall. My sixteenth birthday disintegrated into a shouting match about the new rug I wanted to buy.

I slept on the roof for the next few nights.

Then, the week after my sixteenth birthday, I got the phone call.

I was in the candy shop, buying fresh-made cotton candy to eat that night when my phone rang. My phone never rang. My mom never called me, and nobody I talked to at school had my number. The number had a different area code; in fact, it had a completely different country code. I should have ignored it. That was my second downfall: my curiosity. I wanted to answer, just to see who was calling me. I thought it was a prank caller or an internet company.

When I picked up, the first thing I heard was a deep voice wishing me happy birthday.

No one knew my birthday but my mom.

I asked him who he was, and he said he was my father.

***

That night at dinner, I picked at my stuffed tilapia. My mom asked me what was wrong - she could always read me like a book - and I asked her, calmly, why she had lied to me and told me that my father had died.

The blood drained from her face. She stammered something out, pushed back from the table, and ran to her room. I remember yelling after her, “See! You never give me any answers! Stop running away from me, Mom!”

This was my third downfall: impulsiveness. I should never have believed the man on the phone. I had no proof that he was my father beyond that he knew my birthday. I knew he was dead, yet I chose to believe the man. But my mom made matters worse by running away. She panicked, plain and simple. She should have explained everything right then. Instead, she made herself look guilty.

When my mom didn't respond to me, I turned right to the plate and lifted it off the wall.

Such a small gesture. So many consequences. The man's instructions came back to me: On the back of that plate is your mom's and I's real story. She doesn't want you to know what really happened. Read it, and you'll understand how you really ended up like this.

It seemed harmless enough. Even if the man wasn't my father, what could reading some words on the back of the plate do to me?

The writing on the back of the plate was minuscule. I could barely read it. Words jumped out at me: our hiding place, dark rings around the trees, third ring, the formula. I closed my eyes and started reading from the beginning.

Almost immediately, I knew this wasn't my parents' story.

It was a set of instructions to find some sort of book that held instructions to create a range of invisible weapons. They could infiltrate governments, gather covert information, murder crowds of people in seconds, all without ever being seen or traced.

The last few sentences were different. Guard this with your life, my love. Hide it where no one can see it - maybe in plain sight, like we did in Delhi. You are strong enough to stand up to James, but our daughter will not be. No one is besides you, and you know that is because he loves you like he does no one else. If James finds this, he will force the information from our daughter, then he will kill her. When you read this, I will be gone. Do not look for me. I don't want you getting hurt. Just know that I love you. I will always love you, even in death.
- Jonathan

The plate slipped from my fingers with a crash.

***

My mother tried to protect me for as long as she could. She kept me inside because James's men couldn't get inside our house. She barely looked at me, though, and sometimes I woke up and wondered what the point of living anymore was. I was the only person besides my mom who held this information in my brain. To protect everyone, wouldn't my dying be the best thing?

I saw a bird outside our backyard window one day. One wing was broken, and it was flapping around so pathetically that my dead heart stirred. I was so sick of being indoors. My mom wasn't watching, so I didn't think. I ran outside, and just as my hands cupped the bird, I felt something sharp snag my side.

The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was my mom's scream.

***

Tomorrow, I will be interrogated, then executed by James and his men. The idea does not bother me. My soul died the moment I read the words on the back of that stupid porcelain plate. I write these words in the same cell I woke up in that day I was kidnapped from my house. Maybe someone will read them. Maybe they won't. I don't care.

It doesn't matter.

Weekly 7/10-7/16

News Article: The Temple of Zeus-Kasios and the Interconnectedness of the Ancient World (822 words)
Review: The Sweeping, Elegant Brilliance of The Greatest Showman (838 words)
Advice Column: Four Life-Changing Tips On How to Stop Procrastinating (573 words)
Miscellaneous: LIVIA TALWORT WINS AWARD FOR MESSIEST DESK! (201 words)

The Temple of Zeus-Kasios and the Interconnectedness of the Ancient World

Archeological sites are constantly being discovered, and our perception of history is ever-changing. Greece, Egypt, and Rome are just some of the civilizations that shaped our world today, but no one can dispute the astronomical effect they have had on our society today. Since these places are so significant in our history, they are obviously some of the hottest sites for archeologists endeavoring to expand our knowledge of our past. These three places are closely linked, both in history and in their mythologies. The Roman Gods are simply versions of the Greek Gods, and while Egypt is six millennia older than Greece, the close proximity of these places lends itself to hundreds of overlaps in culture, history, and religion. When Rome conquered Egypt, these parallels only became more obvious, and everyone knows of Cleopatra's dramatic love stories with Julius Caesar and Mark Antony. Greco-Roman architecture is common in buildings built during the years that Rome inhabited Egypt.

However, Greek influence is often overlooked in Egypt. While the Ptolemaic Kingdom was based in Egypt and the great city of Alexandria was named after Alexander the Great, there are not as many stories of Greek and Egyptian overlapping. An example of this is the confusion between the Greek messenger god Hermes and the Egyptian god of knowledge, Thoth. It was the Greeks who originated the idea of Hermes Trismegistus, a sort of hybrid of Hermes and Thoth. The Romans simply liked the idea and continued its popularity.

Recently, archeologists have discovered a temple dedicated to Zeus-Kasios at the Tel al-Farama site on the northwestern part of the Sinai Peninsula. This god has characteristics of Zeus, the King of the Greek Gods and Lord of the Heavens, and Kasios. Mount Kasios is a mountain where, in Greek mythology, Zeus defeated the mighty Typhon. In other mythologies, including Egyptian mythology, Mount Kasios is sacred, and is the home of a weather god.

When this temple was built during the Greco-Roman era, the area was a city and harbor called Pelusium. This city was also used as a fortress during the age of the Egyptian Pharaohs, and along with the Greek and Egyptian influence, this city has been touched by Byzantine, Islamic, and Christian influences. This area truly represents the melting pot that is history and proves how interconnected the world was even in ancient times.

This site was first excavated in 1910 by the French archeologist Jean Cledat; he discovered Greek inscriptions in a slab of rock but was not able to successfully excavate the temple. This year, the archeological team first excavate two pink granite columns. The columns were once the gates to the temple, says Mostafa Waziri, the Secretary-General of the Supreme Council of Antiques, but they collapsed during an earthquake that rocked the city in ancient times. It was this discovery that led them to the actual temple site. These granite columns were unearthed years ago, and archeologists have been speculating for years, since the 1990s, that there could be a temple to Zeus in this part of Egypt. An ancient fort and a church are nearby, however, and a formal archeological group was never dispatched to the area.

Now, after years, a group of archeologists was sent to the site to continue excavating. Huge granite blocks that were most likely part of a staircase leading to the main temple have been found. Additionally, the same pink granite that was used to make the columns has been found in the excavated streets around the temple, leading to speculation that pieces of the temple were removed to create the streets. Many of the newly discovered stones are inscribed, and new inscriptions show that the temple was most likely renovated during the rule of Emperor Hadrian, the fourteenth emperor of the Roman Empire, at his order.

Scientists are now hoping to virtually recreate the temple using photogrammetry. They document the newly discovered blocks of stone and granite and, with the new discoveries that are still being made and the old granite columns and inscribed slabs, will put these together to create a 3-D version of the temple. Scientists and archeologists believe the temple was constructed of mud bricks, which explains why most of the temple is not intact anymore. It was supported by more pink granite columns and had a pink granite roof, and the granite blocks that most likely were part of a staircase were covered in marble, leading to the actual temple platform.

This temple is firm proof of how connected the ancient world was. This temple touches on Egyptian, Greek, and Roman traditions: the god the temple is devoted to, Zeus-Kasios, is Greek and Egyptian, and the temple was renovated by the Romans. Moreover, this temple is influenced by Christianity and other ancient religions from the region of the Syria-Turkey border. The world in the ancient times was not so different from the world as it is now, as this temple shows.

The Sweeping, Elegant Brilliance of The Greatest Showman

When was the last time a movie picked you up and swept you away? I had the immense pleasure of watching The Greatest Showman in my home theater this past weekend and I sat there, on our brown couches, completely enthralled.

From the movie’s first shot of a silhouetted Hugh Jackman singing, “Ladies and gents this is the moment you’ve been waiting for.”, I knew this movie was something special. He croons, “Just surrender ‘cause you feel the feeling taking over.” I immediately obeyed.

In the next scenes, a young Barnum, a poor servant’s son, and his eventual wife, Charity, the daughter of two rich socialites, befriend each other. At this point, the movie segues into the next song, “A Million Dreams”, where Barnum sings about a new life with Charity. This transition is handled incredibly well and the visuals in the song are breathtaking. The song continues with an older Barnum coming to take Charity home with him and the song ends with the two dancing across the rooftop of their little house.

After his company files for bankruptcy, Barnum starts a show comprised of unique people. These circus folk are bright and lively, and bring a soul and backbone to the movie. However motley they may be, they bring the movie to life with colorful movements and dialogue.

This movie is filled with eleven mesmerizing songs, which are a mixture of soulful ballads to toe-tapping thrillers to passionate, romantic pieces. These songs captured every up and down of the movie perfectly, and it’s no surprise, as the songs were written by the power duo Justin Pasek and Ben Paul, who have won Tonys, Grammys, and Oscars for their work on the Broadway smash-hit Dear Evan Hansen and the awards darling La La Land.

Keala Settle’s show-stopping anthemic piece, “This Is Me” is an emotional piece, and just overall amazing, especially with her powerhouse voice. This song is a grand slam among the many home runs. Keala Settle is perfect for this song, definitely declaring that she belongs in a world where she is oppressed. The circus folk demand that the world sees them for who they are, proclaiming to the world that they will never change to fit society’s standards.

During the song “The Other Side”, where Barnum convinces Phillipe Carlyle to join him to appeal to the high-brows, the lively choreography and use of the environment around them are appealing and pleasing to the eye.

The floor seems to melt and glass seems to shatter in the emotional powerhouse ballad “Never Enough”, where Rebecca Ferguson lip syncs perfectly to Loren Alfred’s beautiful voice. And while it might be Loren Alfred singing, it is really Rebecca Ferguson’s acting that brings the house down.

In Michelle William’s solo piece, “Tightrope”, I could feel her pain and desperation as she watched her husband leave with someone else, and the bond of trust that had always been there, and all the things they had done together, as all of that was thrown into uncertainty.

And finally, the golden centerpiece of the movie, the song “Rewrite the Stars”, where Anne Wheeler and Phillipe Carlyle sing about their longing for each other, in a passionate piece, with every breath filled with longing and love. Up and down they go, coming together and breaking apart, the stunning visuals accompanied by the golden voices of Zac Efron and Zendaya. Every scene, every moment in the movie transforms into pure longing and emotion. This is something music, and music alone can do. The chemistry between Anne Wheeler and Phillipe Carlyle is so palpable it was almost like I could reach out and touch it. It was beautiful, soulful, and everything a movie relationship should aspire to be.

The relationship between Barnum and Charity is very well done, and their struggles seem real as well, but the love triangle between Barnum, Charity, and Jenny Lind, the famous opera singer who Barnum basically exploited for publicity, is very unnecessary. There is almost no historical basis to this: Jenny Ling and Barnum never had an affair, and it almost seemed like the movie threw this plot line to appeal to a larger crowd, sacrificing originality. Thankfully, the “romance” between Barnum and Lind is easily forgettable and doesn’t take too much away from the experience and messages of the movie.

The movie did have a very slow start. The first act seemed to grind to a halt after the song “A Million Dreams”, and we sat through half an hour of Barnum traipsing around, trying to start his circus. However, it quickly picked back up after Phillipe Carlyle entered the scene, and the movie’s tempo doubled.

One thing I love about this movie is the star power of the dancing. Hugh Jackman and Zac Efron both got their starts in musicals and DCOMs (widely known for their songs), respectively. The dancers use their environment to their advantage and the ending result is quite well done. All in all, this is one of my favorite movies of all time.

Four Life-Changing Tips On How to Stop Procrastinating

As a person who suffers from procrastination (I'm literally starting this weekly on Friday), I have a list of tips that help me whenever I'm feeling particularly lazy.

1. Make a list of what you need to do. This is said a lot, but it genuinely helps! It achieves a few important things: first, it puts you in the work mindset. You see what you need to do, and it will settle you down. Secondly, it organizes you. A common reason that people procrastinate is that they feel overwhelmed with what they have to do. Sometimes, a person will think they have so much to do that they'll flat out panic so much that they cannot do the work. Making a list shows you exactly what you need to do, and usually, you'll find out that there's actually not that much you have to do.

2. Have a lot to do. I want to start this off by saying that this is totally different from panicking because it feels like you have too much to do. Being busy and having a long list of things to do usually makes you settle down and work because if you don't do the work, something or another won't get done. When you only have a few things to do, you can feel like you can put stuff off for a while. Making a list is imperative for this to work because your mind can minimize or maximize what you have to do. A list doesn't lie.

3. Play calming music that you like or something that you're very familiar with. Music can help you settle down and relax your brain, but only specific types of music. I know that it's commonly said that classical music helps a person relax, and while I'm sure there is tons of scientific proof behind this, my brain enjoys calming music with lyrics or music I'm very familiar with. I know almost every word of the musical Hamilton, so I generally listen to it while doing homework. I'm familiar enough with the music that I don't have to concentrate on the lyrics, but the familiarity of the music soothes me and motivates me to do homework because I'm listening to something I enjoy while doing it. Calming music with lyrics, such as Taylor Swift's new albums folklore and evermore and perfect for working because they're soft and calm without being boring. Of course, those are just my preferences when it comes to music. Every person will have different music that is familiar or that calms them, but listening to that kind of music is incredibly helpful.

4. Reward yourself. Be very careful with this one, because it sometimes can backfire. Promising yourself a single YouTube video after finishing an assignment can very easily turn into two videos, then five, and ten…you get the idea. Reward yourself with things like five minutes of stretching, or listening to music while closing your eyes for two songs you love, or one piece of dark chocolate after your homework is finished. Set definitive limits and timers that you know you can follow. If you want to reward yourself by reading another chapter of a book you love but you know you won't be able to stop after one chapter, try taking a quick walk outside instead, and promise yourself five chapters after all your homework is finished.

And that's it! I hope these tips help!

LIVIA TALWORT WINS AWARD FOR MESSIEST DESK!

BREAKING NEWS! Livia Talwort has been given the coveted award for THE MESSIEST DESK! With a breathtaking TWENTY-FIVE pounds of JUNK on her desk, this by FAR outstrips ALL of our other contenders! Please note that the twenty-five pounds of junk does not include computers, office supplies, or other vital desk supplies. If you want to vote on what is a vital desk supply, please HEAD ON OVER TO OUR POLL!

Today, Livia proudly pulled a month-old piece of pizza out from under a MOUNTAIN of Magic Tree House Books! And GUESS WHAT? The pizza was so covered by the books and other junk that THERE WERE NO COCKROACHES ON IT! The little bit of fungus and mold? Well, that's just IMPRESSIVE!

It was a COMMUNITY EFFORT to clean off Livia's desk. Livia's desk was SO STAINED after the clean-up that a kind member of our community OFFERED TO BUY HER A BRAND NEW DESK!

Folks, if you would like to win an award like this and get your name in OUR CITY'S HALL OF FAME, submit your application for our MANY AWARDS down below! Who knows, you just might end up winning a new desk or couch OF YOUR OWN!

Total Word Count: 2434 words

Daily 7/16

POV: Unnamed Character in a Short Story I Wrote

For me, the most defining moment of my life was when I met my best friend. We were about six years old, I think, and we met at a bus stop. I was with my mom. We were going to visit my grandpa, but I saw her sitting at the other end of the bus stop.

I went up to her and introduced myself by shouting my name at her - you know, like most six-year-olds. I probably would have scared anybody else off but she just looked at me with an amazing amount of contempt for a young kid. She said I was a stranger, so she wouldn't tell me her name - she's always been a whole lot smarter than me - but I eventually got her to tell me her name. I told her to meet me at the bus stop again the next day, and that…that way it. That was the most defining moment of my life.

Right afterward, I told my mom I had found my best friend.

I was right, somehow. We went to different schools, but we met at that same bus stop almost day. We were the kind of friends that knew everything about each other. Really. I loved her from the day I first met her.

I fell in love with her, though, when I was sixteen. It was the first secret I ever kept from her. She had a lot going on in her life, and I didn't want to mess up our friendship. I didn't want to be another thing on her mind.

Turns out that was a bad decision, because when we were both eighteen, she told me that she loved me, and she wanted me to know before we both went to college. Before we…separated, maybe forever.

So as you can imagine, we got together. We didn't separate forever, thank goodness. I don't think I could have survived separating from her, even if I wasn't in love with her. We're still best friends today, of course, just…best friends who happen to be in love.

Daily 7/17

She was radiant under the magic strings. She was absolutely beautiful from the moment that I saw her.

I first met her in the ruined amphitheaters of Inai. She was playing in the strings of magic that stretched across our cities like threads of starlight, blue and silver and yellow, shimmering under our purple skies. They threaded through her hair and wound around her wrists and ankles, and I thought she was a goddess at first.

Her hands shifted in the air, and the magic strings responded to her touch.

It was then that I knew she was no goddess. She was a Wielder, and therefore she was untouchable to me. The magic had never called to me, and while I could see the strings, I couldn't touch them like she was.

As I watched, she cautiously touched one of the golden strings with her finger. I felt the vibration in the air, the way the magic responded to her like she was magic herself. She laughed as the string wrapped itself around her finger, and her laugh turned into a shriek of delight as the magic whisked her off her feet into the air.

I stepped out of my hiding spot toward her.

She didn't see me at first. I called out to her, and all of her delight turned to alarm. She fell to the ground, backing away from me like I was more dangerous than the phantoms that swooped through our streets.

“Wait!” I shouted. “Please!”

“Stringless,” she whispered, looking horrified. “Don't hurt me! Please!”

“I'm not going to hurt you,” I tell her. “I just want to talk to you.”

“I don't believe you!” she yelled. The strings surrounded her like a protective barrier, and I could hear them whispering to me. Stringless, stringless, little child, take cover and hide…

“Oh god,” I groaned. I heard the strings whispering every day of my life. Stringless, stringless, little child, tell her how you hear us...“Shut up!” I shouted. The girl jerked backward, clutching at the strings around her. “No,” I stumbled to say, suddenly realizing it must have looked like I was yelling at her, “No, I didn't mean you - I meant the strings…” I trailed off. I must have sounded so stupid, a stringless prattling on about things I wasn't supposed to see.

The girl stopped. “You can see the strings?” she asked in a hushed voice. "But-but you're stringless.“

”I know,“ I muttered. ”I know. I'm an Anomaly.“

”Wow,“ the girl whispers. ”I didn't think any existed anymore!“

”Well, here I am,“ I said lamely.

”What's it like?“ the girl asked eagerly. I wanted to laugh. What would I tell her? Being an Anomaly was bad enough. Being the only Anomaly in over two hundred years was even worse. I would have to spend my whole life hearing the strings, seeing the strings, but I would never be able to call back to them, ask them to aid me with their magic. Most people had no idea what the strings were because they couldn't see them. I knew exactly what I was missing, and it killed me.

”It's…it's better than being stringless,“ I lied.

The girl looked at me skeptically. ”Really?“

”I mean-“ I looked at the girl. ”No,“ I admitted softly. ”It's horrible.“

”I would think so,“ the girl replied. She looked at her hands, at the strings still dancing over her arms. ”So you-you really didn't come here to hunt me?“

”No! Never! I think it's horrible that the stringless hunt your younglings!“ I struggled to explain what I thought of the hunts. ”I don't think you're unnatural,“ I said softly. ”And I hate that we hunt your younglings that can't use the strings to protect themselves yet.“

The girl's gaze was keen and sharp. ”You're very strange. Did you know that?“

”That's what people say,“ I mumbled.

”What's your name?“

I startled. No Wielder had ever cared enough to ask me my name. ”Qea.“

”I'm Lija.“ Lija smiled at me, and somehow, she became even more beautiful. ”Do you come here a lot?“

”Every night.“

”Then I'll see you here tomorrow.“ She waved at me, then collected strings under her feet and glided off into the sky.

***

The next day, Lija arrived at the ruins thirty minutes after I did.

”You're late!“ I sing-songed when she landed on the dirt floor.

She shot me an annoyed look. ”We never specified a time, Qea.“

”I still got here before you. And I even can't wield the strings.“

”How does that happen? I mean, how did you become an Anomaly?“

I hated talking about this. Whenever anyone found out, it's all they ever asked me about. ”I didn't become an Anomaly,“ I said shortly. ”I was born one. And the whole of Inai thinks I'm a weirdo.“

”I don't think you're a weirdo,“ Lija said. ”I'm not unnatural, and you're not a weirdo.“

I shrugged. ”Sure. Let's talk about you for a bit, please. Tell me about your family.“

Her shoulders went rigid. ”No,“ she said firmly. ”My family is off limits.“

”Oh.“ We sat in stilted silence for a few moments, before Lija said quietly,

”There's a star shower tonight. I was thinking we could watch it together?“

I smiled. ”That sounds amazing."

And it was amazing. Star showers were common, but they never stopped being beautiful The stars falling that day were no different, and the strings surrounding Lija sang as the stars filled them with magic again.

But I…I found myself looking at Lija. The stars made her look blindingly brilliant, and for a moment, I thought she was even more beautiful than the stars.

***

We met at the ruins almost every night. I told her about my mother's job as a star cataloguer, one of the most respected jobs a stringless could have. My father was a representative in an affluent Wielder's house, making decent pay by being basically the Wielder's mouthpiece in his meetings.

I managed to get Lija to open up about her family, just sightly. She told me that her father was one of the leaders of Inai and her mother was a Master, teaching younger Wielders about strings and magic. Lija had mentioned her little brother once, but when I asked her about him, she wouldn't say another word.

Despite this, Lija was the best friend I'd ever had. She listened to me on my worst days, when I broke down because the snide comments directed at me were just too much. She grabbed my hand when she had something excited to tell me. I tucked my head against her shoulder when we watched star showers. And, slowly, we became something that had to be called…more than friends.

I was falling in love with her. There was no doubt about it. I loved her smile and her laugh. I loved her passion when she talked about how neither the stringless nor the Wielders were as blameless as the two thought about themselves. I loved the way she ran her fingers gently through the magic strings and flew up into the air, twirling among the stars like she was one herself.

But I couldn't be with her. Stringless and Wielders were forbidden to be in romantic relationships. There were days I thought maybe Lija liked me too, but it couldn't ever go anywhere.

Exactly four months after we met, I screwed up the courage to ask her about her brother.

At first, I thought she would punch me. Then she sagged back against the dirt. “He was killed,” she said dully. “In a hunt.”

"What?“ I think in some way I had been expecting that to be her answer, but I had never expected her to tell me so bluntly.

”That's why I was so afraid of you at first. You were the first stringless I had met since - well, my brother was - was killed.“ She remained silent for a moment, before bursting out, ”He was seven years old, Qea! He was killed coming back from school-“ Her voice cracked, and she buried her head in her knees.

I hesitated, even while I felt like something in me was breaking. My life wasn't perfect, but no one I loved had ever died. Carefully, I fit my arm around her and pulled her against my side. She gasped helplessly, fisting her hands in my shirt. ”I don't like talking about him,“ she whispered, ”Because I turn into a sobbing mess whenever I do.“

”I don't mind,“ I promised her. ”Really, I-I'm so sorry that happened to you. I can't imagine it.“

”I threw myself into learning magic then. I never wanted to be caught unaware like my brother was.“ She looked up at me, and her eyes burned. ”That day you met me was one of the first days that the magic really responded to me.“ She gave a small, fierce small. ”I'm one of the best Wielders in our class now. I do it for him. All of it.“

***

”It's exam week,“ Lija groaned. She titled her head toward the sky and yelled, ”Why must you be so difficult to deal with, strings?“

I laughed. ”Poor you,“ I said unsympathetically.

”It's not funnyyyy,“ she moaned.

”Fine,“ I said. ”Let me help you relax. Think…think about your happy place.“

”My happy place,“ Lija said pointedly, ”Usually is with the strings. So that's no help at all.“

I had to duck my head then to hide my blush, because my happy place was with Lija. And there was no reason for her to know that.

”Wait!“ she said suddenly. ”I have something.“ She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ”Okay. Continue.“

”What is your happy place?“

”None of your business. Please, continue your little speech.“

I smile at that. ”Now, imagine you're in that place, doing that thing, with that person-“ I broke off suddenly, but when I said the last one, Lija took a deep breath, relaxing her shoulders. She was with her brother, I knew.

When she opened her eyes, they seemed to shine. ”Thank you, Qea." She reached for my fingers and twined them with hers. My mouth went dry, and I heard the strings: Stringless, stringless, little child, young and so in love…

“Do you want me to do the exercise with you?” she asked.

I looked around. “No,” I said.

She titled her head. “Why?”

I hesitated. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“Like, brutally, sappily honest?”

Lija laughed. “Of course, Qea. Tell me.”

Stringless, stringless, little child, tell her how you love her…

“I'm already in my happy place,” I admitted softly. The old ruins danced with the magic strings, whose beauty I had only come to to appreciate after meeting Lija. “With the stars and the strings and…and you.” I glanced over at her, and her lips were parted ever-so-slightly. It was very distracting, and I completely lost my train of thought, looking at her.

“With me,” she repeated, almost to herself. She closed her eyes blissfully.

We sat in silence for a moment before her eyes popped open. “Can I kiss you?” she blurted out.

My mind didn't process what she'd said at first. “What?” I asked in a slightly dazed voice.

“Never mind,” she said hastily. “It was-”

“Wait.” Lija had just asked to kiss me. Lija had just asked to kiss me. Carefully, I took her other hand with mine. Her eyes went wide, but I saw her leaning in, and then I could see every individual string haloing her face, and each eyelash…

I closed my eyes and let the moment enfold me.

***

When we met the next day, Lija slung one arm around me like she always did, but this time, it was accompanied by a short, sweet kiss. I blushed furiously, and Lija's laugh was the most beautiful sound ever heard.

I was so, so in love. I was aloft on wings of stars when I was her. She took my hand one day and, for the first time, I felt the strings touch my skin. I staggered against her, breathless at the rushing, intoxicating feel of the strings. She thought my reaction was absolutely hilarious, and I poked her in the side and told her that just because she was used to the strings didn't mean everyone was.

One day, as we lay together watching a star shower, Lija turned to me and whispered, “What if someone finds out about us?”

That was the one cloud on our untouched happiness: what would happen if someone learned that a stringless and a Wielder were seeing each other. It didn't matter that I was an Anomaly. I was stringless in the eyes of the law.

“It doesn't matter.” I tightened my arms around her waist. “We'll be careful. No one will ever know.”

“This can't last forever, you know.”

“We'll make the best of whatever we get. Because-” The words were right there on my lips. Because I love you.

“Because what?”

I shook my head. It wasn't the right time. “Because that's what we always do.”

I heard her smile in her next words. “You know it.”

***

Lija was right, of course, as she always is. Our perfect happiness wouldn't last.

It was our three-month anniversary of our first kiss. I fidgeted with a small box with a necklace inside of it - I hated jewelry, but Lija loved it.

The strings told me she was coming before I saw her. Stringless, stringless, little child, look to the east, for your love arrives…

“Lija!” I called. I could feel myself lighting up as I heard her feet land of the soft earth behind us. I whirled around, and that was the first moment I realized something was wrong.

The strings around her were flickering and dull. Tear tracks traced patterns in her face, and the moment she landed, her legs gave way and she collapsed to the floor.

"Lija!“ I shouted again. I fell to my knees next to her, my present gone, forgotten, in the dirt. ”What's wrong-what happened-“

She clutched at my arms, her spine bowed like a snapped bow. ”Qea - my father - “ She hiccupped, and tears began to flow down her face again. ”He - he noticed me sneaking out, and he had me followed last night - "

The world swam went black, then white, then black again, and the ground swooped away, and suddenly I couldn't breathe- "You father knows about us?“ My words came out panicked and breathy. ”Lija-“

”I can never see you again,“ she whispered. ”He's not going to tell the Council, because he can't bear to loose another child, he says, and he gave me tonight to say bye, but Qea - “ Her voice cracked, and my heart shattered with it.

”Did you-did you tell him in not fully stringless? Does he know I'm and Anomaly?“

She nodded, looking up at with me with broken eyes. ”It's the other reason he's not going to turn me in. He's terrified of stringless, Qea, and if I ever see you again I don't even want to imagine what he'll do to you - “

Maybe it wasn't fair of me to tell her right then, but I knew if I didn't tell her then, I'd never be able to tell her again. ”I love you,“ I whispered, my words tumbling over themselves. ”I know it's not fair to tell you now - and you don't need to say it back, but I needed to tell - “

”I love you too,“ she interrupted me desperately. ”Stars, Qea, I love you so much.“ She kissed me, urgent and hard, and I clung to her, knowing this would be our last moment together.

When we pulled apart, after a few long moment that would never feel long enough, she kissed each of my fingers. ”I love you,“ she promised again. ”I will always love you." She rose into the air like the goddess of the stars. I held fast to her fingers until they slipped out of mine.

My hand fell limply to the ground in the dirt. Tears were running down my face, but I couldn't feel them. I couldn't feel anything. I love you. I will always love you.

“I will always love you too, Lija,” I whispered to the sky. Then, I let my eyes slip close, and I heard the strings: Stringless, stringless, little child, the tragedy of lost love so soon…

***

A few weeks later, I snuck back to the ruins. I had heard rumors of a Wielder who created beautiful patterns with her strings. I knew it was Lija.

I wasn't going to talk to her. I didn't want to hurt her. But I just wanted to see her again.

I hid the same alcove I had the first time I had ever seen her. Lija was there, in the center of the ruins, weaving her hands through the air and the strings, and the air shimmered with magic and possibility. For a moment, I was back at the day almost a year ago, when Lija was just an unnamed girl and our futures hadn't dimmed like dead stars.

Lija raised her hands and her head, and my breath caught suddenly.

There, glistening at the hollow of her throat, was the necklace I had brought for her. A falling star pendant hung at the end of it, and on the other side, I had inscribed our initials. She must have found it from where I had dropped it.

Lija spun slowly in the air, and for maybe the first time since we had parted that night a few weeks ago, I felt myself smiling.

My love. Lija. She was radiant under the magic strings.

Star Strings

I first met her in the ruined amphitheaters of Inai when the ground still crunched with the cold snap of winter. She was playing in the magic-filled star strings that stretched across our cities, midnight blue and metallic silver and golden yellow, shimmering under our dusky purple skies. They threaded through her hair and wound around her wrists and ankles, and I thought she was a goddess at first.

Her hands shifted in the air, and the star strings responded to her touch.

It was then that I knew she was no goddess. She was a Wielder, someone who could call on the magic of the strings. Never had the strings called to me, and while I could see the them, I couldn't touch them the way she could.

As I watched, she cautiously brushed one of the golden strings with her finger. I felt the vibration in the air, the way the magic responded to her like she was magic herself. She laughed as the string wrapped itself around her finger, and her laugh turned into a shriek of delight as the strings whisked her off her feet into the air.

I stepped out of my hiding spot toward her. I don't know why I did it. I was drawn to her brilliance, her radiance in the night sky.

I called out to her, and suddenly all of her delight turned to alarm. She fell to the ground, backing away from me like I was more dangerous than the phantoms that swooped through our streets.

“Wait!” I shouted.

“Stringless,” she whispered, looking horrified. “Don't hurt me! Please!”

“But I'm not going to hurt you!” I call after her. “I just want to talk!”

“I don't believe you!” she yelled. The strings surrounded her like a protective barrier, and I could hear them whispering to me. Stringless, Stringless, little child, will you take cover and hide…

“Oh, god,” I groaned. I heard the strings whispering every day of my life. Stringless, Stringless, little child, tell her how you hear us…“Shut up!” I shouted. The girl jerked backwards, clutching at the strings around her. “No,” I stumbled to say, suddenly realizing it must have looked like I was yelling at her, “No, I didn't mean you - I meant the strings…” I trailed off. I must have sounded so stupid, a Stringless prattling on about things I wasn't supposed to see.

The girl stopped. “You can see the strings?” she asked in a hushed voice. "But-but you're Stringless.“

Great. Now I'd have to tell her. ”I know,“ I muttered. ”I know. I'm an Anomaly.“

”An Anomaly? Really? Wow,“ the girl whispered. ”I didn't think any existed anymore!“

”Well, here I am,“ I said lamely.

”What's it like?“ the girl asked eagerly. I wanted to laugh. What would I tell her? Being the only Anomaly in all of Inai was horrible. I would have to spend my whole life hearing the strings, seeing the strings, but I would never be able to call back to them. Most people had no idea what the strings were because they couldn't see them. I knew exactly what I was missing, and it killed me.

”It's…it's better than being Stringless,“ I lied.

The girl looked at me skeptically. ”Really?“

”I mean-“ I looked at the girl. ”No,“ I admitted softly. ”It's horrible.“

”I would think so,“ the girl replied. She looked at her hands, at the strings still dancing over her arms. ”So you-you really didn't come here to hunt me?“

”No! Never.“ I stumbled to explain myself. ”I've never thought of Wielders as unnatural,“ I said softly.

The girl's gaze was keen and sharp. ”You're very strange. Did you know that?“

”That's what people say,“ I mumbled.

”What's your name?“

I startled. No Wielder had ever cared enough to ask me my name. ”Qea.“

”I'm Lija.“ Lija smiled at me, and somehow, she became even more beautiful. ”So, how does that happen? I mean, how did you become an Anomaly?“

I hated talking about this. Whenever anyone found out, it's all they ever asked me about. ”I didn't become an Anomaly,“ I said shortly. ”I was born one. And the whole of Inai thinks I'm a weirdo.“

”I don't think you're a weirdo,“ Lija said. ”I'm not unnatural, and you're not a weirdo.“

I shrugged. ”Sure.“ We sat in stilted silence for a few moments, before Lija said,

”Do you come here a lot?“

”Every night.“

”Then I'll see you here tomorrow.“ She waved at me, then collected strings under her feet and glided off into the sky.

***

After that day, we met at the ruins almost every night. Honestly, Lija was the best friend I'd ever had. We often talked through the nights about our lives, laughing and clutching at each other's arms. In those ruins, under the stars, we weren't Stringless and Wielder. We were just…us. And, slowly, we became something that had to be called…more than friends.

I was falling in love with her. There was no doubt about it. I loved her smile and her laugh. I loved her passion when she talked about how neither the Stringless nor the Wielders were as blameless as the two thought about themselves. I loved the way she ran her fingers gently through the star strings and flew up into the air, twirling among the stars like she was one herself.

But I couldn't be with her. Stringless and Wielders were forbidden to be in romantic relationships. There were days I thought maybe Lija…liked me too, in that way, but it couldn't ever go anywhere. There was no point in even thinking about it.

***

”It's exam week,“ Lija groaned. Her skin was flushed under the summer air. She titled her head toward the sky and yelled, ”Why must you be so difficult to deal with, strings?“

I laughed. ”Poor you,“ I said unsympathetically.

”It's not funnyyyy,“ she moaned.

”Fine,“ I said. ”Let me help you relax. Think…think about your happy place.“

She hummed thoughtfully. ”Wait! Okay. I have something.“ She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ”Continue.“

”Now, imagine you're in that place, doing that thing, with that person.“ When I said the last one, Lija took a deep breath, relaxing her shoulders. She was with her family, I thought.

When she opened her eyes, they seemed to shine. ”Thank you, Qea.“ She reached for my fingers and twined them with hers. My mouth went dry.

”Do you want me to do the exercise with you?“ she asked.

I looked around. ”No,“ I said.

She tilted her head. ”Why?“

I hesitated. ”Can I be honest with you?“

”Of course."

Stringless, Stringless, little child, tell her how you love her…

“I'm already in my happy place,” I admitted softly. The old ruins danced with the star strings, whose beauty I had only come to to appreciate after meeting Lija. “With the stars and the strings and…and you.” I glanced over at her, and her lips were parted ever-so-slightly. It was very distracting, and I completely lost my train of thought, looking at her.

“With me,” she repeated, almost to herself.

We sat in silence for a moment.

“Can I kiss you?” she blurted out.

My mind didn't process what she'd said at first. “What?”

“Never mind,” she said hastily. “It-”

“Wait.” Lija had just asked to kiss me. Lija had just asked to kiss me.

Carefully, I took her other hand with mine. Her eyes went wide, but I saw her leaning in, and then I could see every individual string haloing her face, and each eyelash…

I closed my eyes and let the moment enfold me.

***

When we met the next day, Lija slung one arm around me like she always did, but this time, it was accompanied by a short, sweet kiss. I blushed furiously, and Lija's laugh was the most beautiful sound ever heard.

I was so, so in love. I was aloft on wings of stars when I was her. For the first time, I didn't need the star strings, because to me, she was the stars.

One day, as we lay together watching a star shower, Lija turned to me and whispered, “What if someone finds out about us?”

That was the one cloud on our untouched happiness: what would happen if someone learned that a Stringless and a Wielder were seeing each other. It didn't matter that I was an Anomaly. I was Stringless in the eyes of the law.

“It doesn't matter.” I tightened my arms around her waist. “We'll be careful. No one will ever know.”

“This can't last forever, you know.”

“We'll make the best of whatever we get. Because-” The words were right there on my lips. Because I love you.

“Because what?”

I shook my head. It wasn't the right time. “Because that's what we always do.”

I heard her smile in her next words. “You know it.”

***

Lija was right, of course, as she always is. Our perfect happiness wouldn't last.

It was the three-month anniversary of our first kiss. I fidgeted with a small box with a necklace inside of it - I hated jewelry, but Lija loved it.

The strings told me she was coming before I saw her. Stringless, Stringless, little child, look to the east, for your love arrives…

“Lija!” I called. I could feel myself lighting up as I heard her feet land of the soft earth behind me. I whirled around, and that was the first moment I realized something was wrong.

The strings around her were flickering and dull. Tear tracks traced patterns in her face, and the moment she landed, her legs gave way and she collapsed to the floor.

"Lija!“ I shouted again. I fell to my knees next to her, my present forgotten in the dirt. ”What's wrong-what happened-“

She clutched at my arms. ”Qea - my father - “ She hiccupped, and tears began to flow down her face again. ”He - he noticed me sneaking out, and he had me followed last night - “

The world went black, then white, then black again, and the ground swooped away, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. ”Your father knows about us?“

”I can never see you again,“ she whispered. ”He's not going to tell the Council, and he gave me tonight to say bye, but Qea - “ Her voice cracked, and my heart shattered with it.

”Did you-did you tell him I'm not fully Stringless? Does he know I'm an Anomaly?“

She nodded, looking up at with me with broken eyes. ”It's the main reason he's not going to turn me in. He's terrified of Stringless, Qea, and if I ever see you again I don't even want to imagine what he'll do to you - "

Maybe it wasn't fair of me to tell her right then, but I knew if I didn't say it at that moment, I'd never be able to. “I love you,” I whispered, my words tumbling over themselves. “I know it's not fair to tell you now - and you don't need to say it back, but I needed to - ”

“I love you too,” she interrupted me desperately. "Stars, Qea, I love you so much.“ She kissed me, urgent and hard, and I clung to her, knowing this would be our last moment together.

We pulled apart, after a few long moments that would never feel long enough. ”I love you,“ she promised again. ”I will always love you." Slowly, shakily, she rose into the air like the goddess of the stars.

My hand fell limply to the ground in the dirt as I watched her fly away. I knew tears were running down my face, but I couldn't feel them. I couldn't feel anything. I love you. I will always love you.

“I will always love you too, Lija,” I whispered to the sky. I let my eyes slip close.

The last thing I heard was the star strings.

Stringless, Stringless, poor child, the tragedy of love lost so soon…

Daily 7/18

Goldilocks was not in the best mood. She was horribly lost, had no food, and could have really used a nice bed. Those stupid bears had thrown her out of their house, when all she'd wanted was to take a nap.

How rude.

She pushed her sweaty golden hair out of her eyes. Her curls had long gone limp, and she sincerely regretted not bringing around a rubber band for her hair. The path in front of her was dark and twisted, lined with trees that had branched curved into cruel claws. All she wanted was to go home.

Suddenly, out of the gloom, Goldilocks spotted a new path. This path seemed to flicker with dozens of different colors: first a dark purple, then a bright red, then a soft green. Goldilocks rubbed her eyes, positive that the lack of sleep was getting to her, but when she opened her eyes, the path glimmered a light blue color.

So what if she was hallucinating? Anything was better than meandering aimlessly through the woods like she was right then. Making up her mind, Goldilocks hitched up her skirts and walked through the mouth of the new trail.

The moment her foot touched the gravelly path, the floor split open.

"What the heck?“ Goldilocks shouted, grabbing at a tree branch above her. ”Help!"

Her screams turned to a wordless shriek as she hurtled down a bottomless hole. What a way to die.

Suddenly, she landed with an oof on a sort of invisible air cushion. Where was she? Some sort of magical space beneath the Earth?

She stood up shakily. Surrounding her were fifteen - well, not doors, exactly, they were more like shimmering areas of air - that each rippled with a different color.

“Hello?” Goldilocks shouted. “Anyone home?”

From the square of air directly in front of her, the one that glistened dark purple, a girl holding a plate of muffins stepped towards her.

“Hi!” she said cheerfully. “My name is Birdi! Welcome to Scratch Writing Club! I'm this session's host! Would you like a motivation muffin?”

Goldilocks had never been more confused in her life, and the last few days had been pretty darn confusing for her. “Scr-Scratch Writing Club? Um, could you please explain what that is?


”Oh, gosh.“ Birdi bit her lip. ”Are you an unplanned camper?“ She sighed. ”Well, there are fifteen cabins here. You'll have everything explained to you in whatever cabin you choose to go to. But again, would you like a muffin?“

Goldilocks wrinkled her nose. ”Do you have any porridge?“

”Well, no. Motivation porridge doesn't have the same ring as motivation muffin, in my opinion.“

Goldilocks nodded. ”I see what you mean. Alright, I'll have a muffin.“

Birdi grinned and handed Goldilocks one. She chewed thoughtfully. ”Not bad!“

”The next step for you will be to choose a cabin. I would say the Thriller Rift, but I'm obviously biased. Mythology Cabin in in first place, and Adventure is in second, but all the cabins are awesome!

“So - wait, this is a writing camp?”

Birdi nodded.

“Well, then, I'm sorry, but I will pass,” Goldilocks said importantly. “I don't enjoy writing.”

Birdi shrugged. “Suit yourself! I really hope you enjoyed your time here.” She gave Goldilocks a friendly smile, then flicked her wrist.

A second later, Goldilocks was back on the forest floor.

timelines outro:

That’s it for this first weekly! To earn 2,500 points for your cabin for this weekly:

- Write 400 words using the butterfly method, with one catalyst event and three outcome timelines with 100 words each
- Plot 5 points on a linear timeline, expanding on each one with 100 words for a total of 500 words
- Outline a non-linear timeline in 250 words
- Write a 750 word story using your timeline, considering how the events in your story will affect the future

Make sure to comment with a link to your weekly in the main cabin by March 9th 11:59 UTC to claim points! We hope you have an amazing ride on your journey through time! Have fun <33

Daily 7/19
inspired by the Taylor Swift songs cardigan, august, and betty

I see him, standing there, slate-grey eyes and messy dark hair. His back is to me, but I know he's twisting his hands together nervously, his face wiped blank. Mannerisms as familiar to me as breathing, movements I can predict with my eyes closed.

“James?” I call softly.

He whirls around when he hears me, and his eyes light up for a moment, like they used to every time he saw me. It's the look that once made me feel like the most special person in the world.

Then the look is gone like a candle flickering out. “Betty,” he whispers. My traitorous heart thumps when he says my name. He takes one stumbling step toward me.

I make my face hard and stony. “What do you want, James?”

He freezes. “Betty-”

"What do you want?“

He swallows hard. ”I'm sorry,“ he says in a rush. ”You don't know how much I've missed you, Betty, how horrible I've felt-“

”Stop.“ My stomach coils in disbelief. ”You ran off with Augie. You smashed me to pieces, and now you think you can fix everything with an apology? That isn't fair to any of us, James.“

His face collapses, and suddenly I remember us as children, chasing each other around our gardens. ”I know. Betty, I know, and I'm sorry-“ He breaks off suddenly, and hesitantly, he holds his hand out to me.

Without thinking, I flinch away from it. His face, already so broken, shatters apart. It's right then that I realize that James didn't just come here to apologize. He wants to get back together.

Before I can stop myself, I let out a derisive, almost hysterical laugh. James was always so stupidly idealistic. ”Are you serious? James, you want to get back together?“

”I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you, I promise.“ His eyes have a sort of dull hope in them. ”Betty, please, I love you!“

”But how am I supposed to believe that?“ I shout. ”I loved you for so long, and you threw it all away!“

His hand, which was still outstretched, falls limply to his side. ”So this is it?“ he whispers.

I feel tears beginning to fall down my face. I shouldn't be crying for James, but he's been my whole life since I was six years old. ”This is it,“ I repeat.

He lets out a sort of suppressed gasp. ”I'm so sorry, Betty. For-for everything." He turns away, shoulders trembling. I know his hands are pressed against his eyes, and I know when he gets to his car, he'll look back at the backseat where we kissed for the first time. He'll break down then, wrapping his arms around himself, pressing his head against the steering wheel. Knowing that is almost enough for me to call out to him.

Instead, I watch him walking away. Then I sink to my knees, press my hand to the ground, and allow myself to cry for James, the first boy I ever loved, and the first boy who ever broke my heart.

Word Wars Proof 1

“Here we are,” they say. She stops in front of one of the interrogation stalls, where the woman sits, arms and legs bound in front of her. “You know how this works.” They hesitate. “Be strong, agent.”

I swallow hard, looking at her. I’m terrified. I’m so terrified. The woman looks at me with dark, tear-filled eyes.

“Please,” she whispers again. “Just - just tell me my son is okay. Tell me you didn’t hurt him.”

“Miss Proler,” I say. My voice has to be blank. Hard. Harsh. No emotion. “The child you’ve been calling your son is perfectly alright. No harm will come to him. He will go to another family, one who can properly protect and care for him-”

I was cut off by the woman’s loud wail. “But I was taking care of him! I was his mother!”

“Miss Proler. Please, be calm. You will be released from here as soon as you answer a few of my questions.”

She falls silent, shooting me a dark glare.

“Which family did you steal this young boy from?”

“I didn’t steal him!” she shrieks. “He is

Critique (sorry in advance for my awkward wording):

Aliana_Cantu wrote:

In the middle of a blazing inferno, a single boy sits, hunched over a piece of paper.

I think the first sentence might flow better without the second comma? Great opening image. I really like the concept and the questions behind this scene.

Aliana_Cantu wrote:

He looks at the paper again, bending over like an invisible hand is pushing him down.

It is at that moment that he begins to cry.

He tries to hold it back at first, but soon he is gasping out huge sobs, tears cascading down his cheeks to land on his knees and the half-blackened paper.

Having a few one-sentence paragraphs in a row here sounds a little choppy to me. Maybe combine the first of the paragraphs with the one before it, or split the third one into two sentences?

Aliana_Cantu wrote:

The boy advances on her, hands molded into rigid sticks.

I'm not sure from “sticks” exactly what the boy is doing with his hands. Something like “rigid claws” might work better if that's what he's doing.

Aliana_Cantu wrote:

The flames are gone, but the surrounding homes that have now been reduced to charred piles of wood still belch smoke into the air.

The flow of this sentence seems a little odd to me– maybe reword to something like “charred piles of wood that were once homes”? Nothing big– this might just be me.

Aliana_Cantu wrote:

Tears fill the girl's eyes, but unlike the boy's, these tears are less desperate. They are deep, and they ache, and they are maybe the only thing still holding the girl together.

I really like your wording here and the feel of the moment. No critique.

Aliana_Cantu wrote:

She presses her lips to the piece of paper, then closes her fist around it.

The last of the paper flies off into the wind.

I'm guessing that the paper crumbled in the girl's fist, but it could be clarified a little how it got out of her hand– right now it's just that she grasps the paper and then it blows away.

The story you're telling here fits really well with the viewpoint of the day 11 daily! I feel like you have the right amount of hints at the full context, and the characters are clear from just their actions. I liked the emotion overall and the character arcs.

Weekly 7/17-7/23

High Fantasy World and Worldbuilding: The Vampling Caves
High Fantasy World Story: Sacrifice
Magical Realism Questions: Star Strings Magic System
Fantasy Genres: Urban Fantasy, Hidden World, Dystopia

The Vampling Caves

• Underwater kingdom with democracy
  Family bonds as the center of life
  Use floating boats to travel
  Secret society hidden in caves
  Three rival factions fighting for control of the throne
  Frogs as a symbol of bad luck
  Acorns as a symbol of good luck
  Magic system involves calling on the energy of the earth
  Warrior-like society with family swords passed down from father-to-daughter, mother-to-son
  Society-wide festival in ruins of old castle on far side of city
  Rubies as currency
  Dolphins are an incredibly important part of the religion (patron god of the world)
  Ruled by vampire overlord living in the mountains
  Frequent storms
  Brought food by meerkats
  Lamp-makers revered by society
  Magic pools of water answer questions for sacrifice of something important
  Children taught never to leave home until age sixteen
  Storytelling: very important part of society
  Illiteracy: symbol of status
  

The Vampling caves, hidden deep within the mountains of Onai, have been home to a secret society of humans for longer than human memory. These people prosper due to their warrior-based society, fighting the Crowsmen who live in the woods on the far side of the valley, as well as their close familial bonds. The citizens train in large underground caves in family units, using swords that have been part of the family for generations and generations. The mother passes her sword to her oldest son, and the father passes his sword to his oldest daughter. For a couple to marry, at least one of the two must have a sword. If an individual with a sword does not wish to marry, they much pass their sword to another sibling whenever they pass away or retire from fighting.

Stories have tremendous importance in the Vampling caves, and around the dinner table, mothers and fathers tell the stories of their ancestors and the folktales of their society. One story every child knows of is the story of the Great Tree. Generally, the people of the Vampling Caves are forbidden to leave the caves and the valley next to the caves where the Six Sacred Pools are, and travelers never can find their valley. However, one particularly adventurous traveler managed to stumble his way into the Vampling Caves. He planted a single acorn, which, over the years, grew into the Great Tree that now shades the caves from outside exposure. If someone finds an acorn on their way to the fields on the Six Pools, they are said to have six years of good luck.

The Six Sacred Pools have always been a vital part of the Vampling Caves society. Once a year, every citizen of the caves is allowed to hike to the pools and ask one question of the pools. However, this requires a great sacrifice, like a prized weapon (not a family sword, of course). Often, the pools are inaccessible because of the frequent storms that flood the valley and the lowest caves.

The higher a person's cave is, the higher their status is. The highest caves are given to the elite warrior families and the lamp-makers, because the citizens rarely see the sun underground, and the most skilled lamp-makers can make lamps that replicate the sun's light. The lamps are also vital for the exploration and expansion of the caves, and as the population of the caves expands, more caves are needed. Life in the Vampling caves, while quite difficult at times, is generally peaceful and pleasant.

Except, of course for the yearly vampire sacrifice. The Vampling caves are ruled by a vampire overlord who lives in a mansion on the highest mountain in the mountain range. Once a year, the vampire descends onto his caves and demands the blood of one of the strongest children from the elite warrior families. He takes the child to his mansion, and that child is never seen again. No one is quite sure what happens to the child, but most people are convinced the child is sucked dry of blood, despite the rumors that the child lives the rest of their days as a servant to the vampire. The richest of the elite families purchased rubies to buy out the vampire and protect their children, leading the vampire to take children from the middle-class families.
(522 words)

The Vampling Caves: Sacrifice

My mother dabs powder across my face as I try not to fidget.

“Ellara,” she says in exasperation, “Will you please sit still?”

"I'm not the one being sacrificed,“ I grumble. ”Why do I have to be made up?“

”Don't you dare talk like that,“ she says furiously. ”Your cousin is being sacrificed, and he was one of the strongest warriors of your generation. His parents are absolutely distraught, and you should be too, Ellara!“

I swallow hard and lower my eyes, ashamed. ”Yes, mother. Sorry.“

She sighs, taking my hands in hers. ”It's okay, Ell. I understand. It is hard to process grief much of the time."

It's true. I haven't been able to process my cousin's impending death yet. His fate was sealed exactly one week ago when the vampire came down to our caves and picked my cousin to be this year's sacrifice. I've always been thankful I'm such a mediocre fighter. I know I should be ashamed, but it meant I won't ever be picked as a sacrifice.

My cousin is one of the first elite warrior sacrifices picked in years. Usually, the elite classes have enough rubies to spare their children, but my cousin's father used his yearly trip to the Six Pools to ask if there could be anything done to save my cousin. He sacrificed a pouchful of rubies and ended up not having enough rubies left over to buy off the vampire, sealing my cousin's fate.

My mother finishes doing up my face and pulls back. “There,” she breathes. “You look like a real warrior now.” She touches her family's sword at her hip. Her sword will go to my brother, who is three years younger than me, when he turns eighteen. My older sister, who is nineteen, already has received our father's sword. She's confessed to me that she never wants to marry, however, so my oldest son will claim her sword.

We meet my two younger brothers and my father outside my room. My sister will meet us at the sacrifice pit since she has her own cave with the elite warriors now.

From across the hall, I see my cousin. Her face is pale and pinched, her head bowed. Her sister has very obviously been crying, and her parents simply look lost. I love my family and how close all the families in our caves are, but on sacrifice days, I always wonder if it wouldn't be best for us to not have such close bonds.

My brothers hang shyly behind my parents, but I rush over to my cousin and hug her tightly. She gives me a wan, terrified smile. “What a way to die, eh?”

“How can you joke about this?” I whisper.

She shrugs. “Better than crying.”

One of the sacrifice overseers calls to her, and the little color in her face bleeds away. “I…I guess I have to go. B-bye, Ellara.”

“Bye,” I whisper.

I watch my cousin walk away, knowing I will never see her again.
(502 words)

The Magic of the Star Strings In Inai

1. What kind of magic is used in your world?

In my world (Inai), the magic comes from “star strings”. These are multicolored strings that stretch across the world and they contain the power of the stars inside of them. The strings glow under the night sky in soft colors like purple, gold, and blue. These strings have minds of their own and are very temperamental, but if they are asked nicely or one develops a relationship with them, the strings can be coaxed to help one with their magic.

2. How common is magic, and are all characters aware that they possess it?

About half of my world possesses the ability to call on the strings' magic. These people are called Wielders, and their abilities are passed down from generation to generation, so every Wielder child is born with the ability to call to the strings. The Wielder children become aware of their power around the time they turn three years old because that is when they naturally start to experiment with the strings, but Wielder children can see the strings as soon as they are born. The other half of the people in Inai cannot see or call to the strings, and they are called Stringless.

3 What are the laws in your world, specifically about magic? Punishments?

Since the strings only give their magic to those who ask for it when they want to, it is virtually impossible to misuse the magic. The strings cannot be controlled. They can only be asked to use their magic. However, romantic relationships between Wielders and Stringless are forbidden because the ability to see and wield the strings is passed down through families. The Wielder bloodline is thinned by Stringless blood, and half Wielder-half Stringless children sometimes cannot wield the strings.

4. How is the magic in the world used in the characters' everyday lives? What are the different abilities?

Wielders can use the strings to fly, bring objects to them, or defend things they love. Basic Wielder skills include flying and shaping the strings to create patterns in the air. Creating patterns is usually the first skill taught to young children because it helps them understand the strings and is something the children find fun. Then they are taught to fly by collecting strings under their feet. The most powerful Wielders can gather strings around themselves to turn themselves invisible, or deploy the strings to create shields or even weapons.

5. What is the origin of your magic?

In Inai, there are frequent star showers. These star showers literally mean that stars shower onto Inai - or, to be more exact, the stars' energy showers down. This energy recharges the star strings, and because they occur so often, there is no need to ration the amount of magic Wielders can use. The star strings originated when a massive star exploded near Inai, engulfing Inai with star energy and creating the star strings. The humans who lived on Inai knew that the explosion was coming, but while some of them were terrified that the explosion would kill them, the other half thought that the explosion would grant them magic powers. The ones who thought the explosion would kill them hid underground when the explosion took place. The humans who stayed aboveground were not harmed by the explosion; rather, they absorbed some of the star energy into their veins, turning them into the original Wielders. The ones who hid underground became the first Stringless.

6. What are the limitations of the world's magic?

Since the star strings don't freely give their magic, it takes Wielders a long time to develop a good enough relationship with the strings to properly wield their magic. Usually, Wielders are able to bring objects to them and create rudimentary force fields by the time they turn eighteen. Wielders can then continue their studies of magic in a university setting, learning to turn invisible, create shields around themselves and others, and other advanced skills. Additionally, the strings cannot be used for malicious purposes. The moment a Wielder asks to hurt someone else with the strings' magic, the strings will shut themselves away from the person. Finally, the strings can run out of magic. It takes a lot of use for them to run out since star showers are so common, but every so often they will overtax themselves.

7. Does magic affect the government in your world? If so, how?

The most powerful Wielders rule Inai because the most powerful Wielders are able to use the strings to protect Inai. For example, if a neighboring planet attacked, the leader Wielders would be able to throw up a star string shield around the whole of Inai so powerful that nothing could get through (until the strings run out of energy, of course). The Stringless have a Council that can propose laws, but the Wielder Council is the one to pass all laws. The idea is that having magical power makes them better suited for political power. The Stringless have been rebelling against this for years, but to no avail.

8. Are there any sensations the characters feel when using magic?

The strings are naturally drawn to Wielders, and powerful Wielders will often have star strings haloing their face or woven through their hair. Usually, the strings don't feel like much when they just rest on Wielders' skin, but when Wielders use the strings, they feel a pleasant tingling sensation. It feels almost like soda bubbles popping across one's skin, but in a way that relaxes the Wielder. The strings glow even brighter than they usually do when they are being wielded.

9. How is magic viewed in your world?

To Stringless, the magic is enviable, but since they can't see the star strings, they don't exactly know what they're missing, so while they find it fascinating and many wish they were Wielders, the distinction between Stringless and Wielder has become so normalized that many just don't care anymore. The Wielders still find the strings almost unbelievable and fantastical because of how beautiful they are.

10. What are some noteworthy problems in your world that can be solved by magic?

Inai is a planet that has many enemies because of the star strings. Other planets want the magic, and many of them think they can come and take it. This is obviously not possible, as the star strings are only on Inai and the Wielders need to be in contact with the strings to wield them, but the other planets attack Inai nonetheless. The star strings can be used to create a barrier around Inai until the other Wielders mobilize their defenses, like star string-powered catapults and star string weapons. On a less dire not, the star strings can be used to transport objects, so if a Wielder is feeling particularly lazy, they can ask the star strings to bring them a snack or a blanket or whatever they need.
(1159 words)

Urban Fantasy, Hidden World, Dystopia

i.

“Zilla!” I yell. My skateboard flips around midair and skids to a stop in front of her house. “Code Grey emergency on the West Quarter of the city! Come on!”

I don't stop to see if she's following me. My skateboard powers up, and I zip off again. The city's streets are crowded, but I know these roads like the back of my hand. Not that anyone really knows that back of their hand. Who came up with that, anyway?

“Sorry!” I shout, swerving around an old lady. “Excuse me!” I grab a hotdog off a stand and toss the stupefied stand owner a ten-dollar bill. “Coming through!”

“Emory!” I hear Zilla shout from behind me. “Slow down! Where are we going?”

I throw my hands out wide, and the trees on either side of me jump out of the way. “Like I said,” I said, zipping around in a circle to face her while skating backward, “There's a Code Grey emergency in the West Quarter! I have no more information than that, but we need to get going!”

“Wait!” Zilla puffs as I speed off again. “We can't just go bursting in! We need to - to gather information, and scope out the situation, and - ”

“We don't have time for that!” I toss back at her. I ball my hands into fists, pull down, and the street below me dips low enough that I can skate beneath the cars.

The tall glass buildings of the West Quarter rise like giants in front of me, and the acrid smell of smoke fills the air. “Fire?” I murmur aloud.

“We can't just go barging into a fire!” Zilla frets. She catches up to me, pushing her sweaty hair out of her eyes.

I roll my eyes. “Come on! We'll be fine.” I clap my hands together, collapsing the building in front of us so we can skate over it.

Zilla bites her lip, but she follows me anyway. The office behind us springs back up, and the two of us skate away to whatever evil will face us today.
(347 words)

ii.

Evelyn glances around. Her room is empty, as always, but she always gets nervous entering Kalios. Her family won't be back home for hours, so it's safe for her to enter Kalios…her secret second world.

“Prgo glrg qqu,” she whispers, running her hand over her wall. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and when she opens her eyes, the wall disappears. She grins, then steps through the empty pane.

And right away, she's falling. Evelyn doesn't scream at this part anymore; she's used to it, but she still absolutely hates that she has to enter Kalios like this.

The grassy ground hurtles toward her, and she closes her eyes, ready for the inevitable crash-

Instead, she lands on a cushy patch of air. Her eyes fly open, and in front of her face is a handsome, grinning boy with deep blue eyes and straight brown hair.

“Aiden!” she shrieks. She hurtles into his arms, feeling his body rumble as he laughs. “I thought you were in the capital for the next few weeks!”

“I missed you, Lyn,” he murmurs against her hair. “I heard you were coming, and, well, I gave the old man the slip.”

“Hey,” she says, poking him in the chest. “Don't you dare get in trouble because of me.”

“Me, get in trouble? Never!” He brushes his lips across hers. “I have a beautiful girlfriend to impress, after all.”

“Shut up.” She blushes, much to her annoyance. “So where did I land today?” Every time Evelyn enters Kalios, she lands in a different place. She has a magical homing ring that Aiden made for her that always brings her to her shop in the capital, but entering at different places always leaves her a bit discombobulated. Aiden knows where she'll land because of some pattern that only warlocks can see, but Evelyn doesn't really mind that.

“The Silver Split Falls.” He gestures at the lush foliage around them. “It's a hot tourist destination. The actual falls are a bit of a hike away.” Aiden offers his arm to her. “Would you like to explore with me, m'lady?”

Evelyn smiles. “Of course, good sir.”

The two set off together, content to explore another part of her secret world.
(373 words)

iii.

The gangs are ever-present.

My sister cowers in a corner of our room, hands pressed over her ears, rocking back and forth. Tears stream down her face and her eyes are screwed shut, but I know she can still hear the gunshots and the screams.

I pad over to her and pull her against me. She melts into my side, sobbing.

“Why do they do this, Marlenne?” she whispers. “Why can't they just leave?”

Don't cry, I will myself. Don't cry.

“I don't know, Lina,” I tell her in a voice I hope passes for soothing. I smooth her hair back from her face. “But we're together. I will always be here with you.”

Lina sniffles and looks up at me. “You're not going to leave me to join one of the gangs? Like Jenina's sister did?”

My heart squeezes. I'd never leave Lina, no matter how much money a gang offered me. “Never,” I promise her fiercely. “You're stuck with me.”

***

The moon has already begun to set when the firing finally stops. Lina fell asleep about an hour ago, so I now gently lay her down on our bed. The one plus to the shooting is that sometimes, one of the gangs will drop something valuable, like food or fabric. Money has become absolutely useless because no one will take a piece of paper over food or something actually useful for survival. Survival. That's all life is now.

“Marlenne?” I hear Lina ask sleepily. “Where are you going?”

“Out,” I say in a hushed voice. The neighbors can't hear what I'm doing, or they might steal Lina and put her to work for them. “I'll be back soon. I'm looking for food.”

“No!” She sits straight up. “It's dangerous!”

“Lina, you haven't eaten a good meal in days,” I say tiredly.

“Neither have you!” she argues. “I'm not hungry! I promise! That soup we had tonight was enough!”

I have to laugh at that. “When did you become such a good negotiator?” I sit down next to her. “If I tell you a story, will you go to sleep?”

“If you don't go out.” Her little face is set into hard, stubborn lines. She grabs my hand and holds it tight. I sigh, considering. Lina obviously isn't going to let me out tonight, but anything the gangs might have dropped will be gone by tomorrow.

“Fine,” I relent. “I won't go.”

Her eyes light up. “Yay! You'll stay here with me!”

I feel my lip begin to wobble. “Like I said,” I whisper, “I'll always be here.”
(365 words)

Total word count: 3491 words

Word Wars Proof 2 (pjo fanfiction)

Percy stands next to her at the window of their new house. She designed it with dozens of suggestions from Percy, some helpful, some just more annoying. And now…now it’s actually built. They’re moving in tomorrow, but today they’re just here, together.

She finds herself marveling at what’s around her. When she was young, she had never thought she would find her something permanent. Her family, then Thalia, then Luke - they all left, on after the other. When she had met Percy, she had never imagined that the scraggly boy with messy black hair would be the one to become her permanence.

And now they were moving into a house together. When Annabeth was younger, a house had been the absolute symbol of permanence. Something that would never move, something that was totally and wholly hers. But somehow she had never actually imagined a future where she would move into a house she had designed with someone who loved her like Percy did.

Percy grins sideways at her. “Hey,” he said. “This house is pretty darn awesome.”

Annabeth elbows him in the side. “I would think so, Seaweed Brain. I was the one who designed it.”

His grin widens, and he slips one around her. His hand rests softly on her stomach, and she presses her hand to his.

“Little Seaweed Brain junior is going to have the absolute best home ever.”

“Excuse me,” Annabeth corrects him, “She’s going to be

Your text to link here…Daily 7/25

You step onto the gravel path leading into the forest. You don't know where this path will lead you, but a sense of childlike wonder pulls you forward.

Fireflies twirl around you, and sunlight filters through the light canopy of trees. A doe pokes her head out of the foliage, and you find yourself wishing you had an apple. You turn around, and there is a basket of apples next to your feet. You laugh in wonder. What is this place?

“This is Fairytale Forest,” a soft voice says from behind you. You whirl around, wondering if you had spoken aloud. You see a girl, her hair in two braids, wearing a blue checkered dress. She laughs kindly. “No, you didn't say anything. Here in Fairytale Forest, anything is possible. The only limits are your imagination.”

“Wow,” you breathe.

“You can stay here as long as you want,” says a second voice. A little dwarf steps out of the foliage.

“But be sure to avoid the darker parts of the forest,” a third voice warns. A girl in a deep blue ball gown smiles at you.

“Follow me,” the first girl invites. “I'll show you to your rooms.”


Weekly Part 3:

For the third part of this weekly, we’re going to be covering emotion in dialogue! First, check out this workshop by the amazing Zai (make sure to donate some lasagna when you’re done reading). Then, after getting an emotion from his generator, write 50 words narrowing that emotion down to something more specific. For example, if you start with anger, you could narrow it down to fury.

After, write a scene that contains that emotion in 450 words! This scene should contain:
- Two metaphors
- Two literary devices that are not a simile or a metaphor
- A mention of the setting

Here’s my example with fury (keep in mind that your piece will be longer than this)

I stood helplessly in the ruined rubble of my house. How could everything be gone? My hands balled into fists, and anger began to bubble in me, slow and hot.

There was red behind my eyes. I didn’t know if it was from the fire or what-

“You,” I ground out, my voice trembling with rage. “You-“ I tore one hand through my hair.

“I’m sorry,” I heard her whimper behind me. “I didn’t mean to!”

“It doesn’t matter!” I screamed. “You burned down my house!” My home, my one safe place, my paradise, gone, just like that.

I whirled around to face her. I barely registered the terrified look on her face. “I can’t believe you,” I hissed as I stormed past her. She was worth nothing to me anymore.

Daily 7/26

My setting: Onai was beautiful land of green, rolling fields and bright blue rivers that sliced the fields. there were no trees, and the unforgiving sun beat down on the land. many humans didn't blight this land, the few that did worked in fields that prospered due to the bountiful water and sunlight. groups of humans banded together in clans. there was little to no interaction between the clans - each was very distrustful of the others, and small battles were common. the land might have been beautiful, and the fields might have been prosperous, but life in Onai was harsh. basic necessities were often scarce, and there were many skirmishes that, while little, still lead to frequent death in the clans.

My description: The land is broken.

No one remembers the name of this place, because no one exists to remember its name anymore. Sandstorms howl through the barren wasteland, coating the ground and burying the dirt and the few brave shoots of grass that managed to struggle through the never-ending deluge of fire.

There are no homes, but brick foundations clustered together might have served as homes for the inhabitants. They are worn smooth, most likely by the constant sandstorms. The roofs and walls have fallen in after years of abandonment. If there were once people here, they are long gone.

Bleached white bones are piled in corners of the brick foundations, tossed around by the blistering winds until the bones are just pieces of sand, as insignificant in death as they were in life.

Fires roared through every so often, devouring brick and bone and sand without care for what was what. Fire is cleansing in that way - it does not discriminate. The ground itself is divided into dark strips where the fires have roared and white strips of sand where the earth is still somehow untouched.

The ground glitters with miniscule chips of something - sand heated to such extremes that it solidified to glass. That is the extent of the heat here. Ash mingles with the glass and bone fragments into a blistering storm that can sheer through the brick walls of the old homes.

Then, of course, a sandstorm blazes through and turns the land into a clean canvas once again, ready to be devasted once again. This is how the land works: be destroyed, then cleansed, then destroyed again. The howls of the sands and the screams of the fire are heard for miles around - or, at least, they would be, if there was anybody to hear them.

Word Wars Proof 3

I saw was blinding white. I moaned, shutting my eyes again.

“Oh, Betty! Betty!” I hear my mother's panicked voice above me. “Do you remember who I am?”

“You-you're my mom,” I mumble. I rub at my head, almost screaming in pain when I feel a bump. “Uh - what happened?”

“Oh, honey, you were at home, and you fell of your bed, I guess-”

“Wait, what? Why was I at home?”

There is a beat of silence. “You don't remember?”

“I - I remember getting off the school bus this morning, then - Mom, how did I get here?”

I hear a soft, frightened intake of breath.

“You don't remember punching the girl? Or coming home? Or getting suspended?”

It takes a moment for the words to

Weekly 7/24-7/30
Inspired by Taylor Swift's songs cardigan, betty, and august

PATHS TAKEN: 1-2, 2-3, 4-1, 7-5, 81-3, 5-1, 6-4, 9-3, 3-2, 101-1 | SABOTAGE RESULTS: 4- S;7- F, 3- S;5- S;9- F, 6- S;8- S;1- F, 2- S | ENDING: neutral (good the first time I did it but when I redid it quickly - see A/N at bottom - it was neutral)


I remember us playing in our garden when we were six years old. I was a quiet, lonely kind of kid, and when James moved in next door, my mom thought it was the perfect opportunity for me to make a new best friend. She was right, of course, although I didn't agree with her at the time.

My mother, father, and I lived in a small, cookie-cutter house in a large, cookie-cutter neighborhood. Our house was boxy and made of tan concrete with a red-shingled roof. The backyard was a perfect square, with enough room for three chairs, a table, and exactly ten cubic inches of grass. It looked the exact same as all the other houses in our neighborhood.

Dining Room Prompt: Used the description of my backyard as James's (real-fi)

When James moved in, my mom told me she had seen a boy exactly my age running around in the backyard of their house. I told her, with all the authority a six-year-old can muster, that if their backyard looked anything like ours, she was lying. My mother laughed, and told me their backyard was three times the size of ours. And it had trees.

My little heart leaped. I loved trees, and the only tree in our house was a scraggly little thing in our front yard.

“Can we meet them?” I begged.

She took me over the next day. We were greeted by James's mom - someone who would one day become like a mother to me - a woman with smiling eyes and wispy black hair that was starting to grey at the temples. She offered me cookies, and told me she would send James downstairs in a moment.

I hadn't exactly thought ahead enough to realize that I'd have to make friends with James. While my mom and James's mom chattered about bills and children, I clung to my mother's leg, dreading the moment this unknown James character would come downstairs.

“James!” his mother called again. “James!”

Sabotage Prompt: Send a message to a Scratch Team member telling them why you appreciate them
I chose Ceebee!
Throne Room Prompt: Chekhov's Gun

I first saw his shoes, white sneakers caked with mud. I wrinkled my nose. I thought - still think- people who wore shoes inside the house were gross. He clattered downstairs, spraying mud with every step.

“James,” his mother scolded him, “What have I said about wearing shoes in the house?”

“Oh,” he said, looking down at his shoes as if he'd just realized he was wearing them. “Sorry!” He shot an adorable smile at his mother, and she shook her head at him.

I gave him a quick once-over, and, being the very judgmental kid that I was, I decided right away that I hated him. He was wearing Levi jeans and a bright yellow T-shirt, and his brown hair stuck up in all different directions. His face was incredibly round, his dark brown eyes took up half of its size, and a huge smile seemed permanently pasted onto his face.

“Say hi, Betty.” My mom pushed me in James's direction. I clutched tighter to my mom's skirt.

“Hi!” James said cheerfully. “I like your name!”

I cautiously peered around my mom's leg. “You do?”

“Mhm!” He bounced back and forth on his heels. “My backyard's really big! Do you want to come to see it?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he showing off?

My mom sighed. “Come on, Betty. Go with James.”

“But I don't wanna!” I shouted. “I don't like him!”

James's smile slipped, and his lower lip began to wobble. For some reason, that made me mad. I hated crybabies.

“Fine,” I said shortly. “I'll go with you.”

Right away, his smile bounced back, and he took my hand without asking. His mom pushed open their big sliding doors for us, and he led me through them to their backyard.

Sabotage Prompt: Listen to music for ten minutes
I listened to cardigan, betty, and august again for inspiration XD
Theatre Prompt: The Chosen One

“Whoa,” I breathed. Their backyard was huge. I ran over to one of their big brown-fabric couches and gave a little eager hop. “You have so many trees!”

“We only have four,” he said. “Don't you have some in your backyard?”

“Four is a lot!” I exclaimed.

“Oh.” James shrugged, then ran over to one of the potted plants and plucked a pink flower. “This is for you,” he said shyly, bringing it over to me.

“For-for me?” I asked. “Why?”

“Because it's pretty. And your name is pretty. And I like you.” He held it out. I considered if I should take it or not. It was very pretty.

“Okay,” I said, taking the flower. I tucked it carefully into my hair, like I'd seen in Disney movies. I looked him over again: bright smile, rumpled shirt, dirty shoes. “You'll do,” I decided aloud.

“For what?”

“You'll be my new friend,” I told him.

His smile seemed to widen even more, like that was somehow possible. “Really? That's amazing!”

“Do you like to play hide-and-seek?” I asked. It was my favorite game, and his backyard had so many places to hide.

“Okay!” he agreed eagerly. He took my hand again. “Betty!” he said. “My new best friend.”

Sabotage Prompt: Eat something or drink water in small sips
I ate upma (an Indian dish made of boiled semolina with vegetables and nuts in it) for breakfast
Daily Team Room (Honey): Use the words free, recommend, and balloon

***

“I recommend the balloon palace,” James told me importantly. “Our moms don't have to go inside with us, so it'll be the first time we'll be experiencing the freedom of being ten years old.”

I chewed my bottom lip, looking over the list of things we could do at the mall. “But what if I don't want to be without my mom?” I whispered.

“Come on, Betty!” James exclaimed. His big eyes were all lit up with excitement. “It'll be so fun! Think of all the balloons!”

I frowned down at the paper, and I could feel tears gathering in my eyes. Oh, no. Please don't cry, I willed myself furiously.

“Are you - are you crying?” James asked suddenly.

“No,” I said stubbornly. A fat tear rolled down my cheek.

“Hey - hey, if you don't want to go to the balloon palace that badly, we don't have to go!” James said. He sounded worried, and even a little scared. “Really!” He leaned over the table, his hair falling over his eyes. “It's okay! Please don't be sad, Betty.”

I sniffled. “Really?”

He nodded vigorously. “Yeah! Of course! Where do you want to go?”

I remembered James's excitement at learning there was a balloon palace and said, only slightly reluctantly, “Well, we could go to the balloon palace…just for a little while, and then after we can go to the make-your-own ice cream stall? With our parents?”

James's eyes widened. “You want to go to the balloon palace?”

I hesitated, then nodded.

“Wow! Thank you, Betty!” he shouted. "This sounds amazing! You're amazing!“

I blushed, looking down at my shoes.

”This is going to be the best amusement park trip ever,“ James declared, oblivious to my blush.

Shoving away my previous thoughts, I grinned at him. ”Absolutely!"

Sabotage Prompt: Do something creative for fifteen minutes
I worked on a short story I'm writing
Fanfic Trope Room: Songfic Trope (from Taylor Swift's cardigan)

***

“Sooooo,” I said, sliding into the seat next to James on the school bus. “What do you want for your birthday?”

He laughed. “Betty, you don't need to get me anything.”

“Yes, I do!” I protested. “James, I'm getting you something for your birthday whether you like it or not.”

"Do you know any versions of Peter Pan where Peter and Wendy end up together?“ he asked. ”Because I'd love to get that.“

I swatted him lightly. ”Are you still going on about that? That's from last year! You literally tried to change the ending from Peter losing Wendy to Peter and Wendy having a happy ending together.“

”I'm sorry that I was so attached to their love story. Don't blame me! Their love story was addictive."

I laughed as we pulled up to our school. Ever since we'd read Peter Pan in sixth-grade English class, James had been going on about its ending. He was the definition of a hopeless romantic.

All of a sudden, I remembered the skateboard James had been talking about. It was too expensive for me to buy, but I knew that there were cheaper skateboards than the one he'd been looking at.

I texted him at my next break: Hey…how would you feel about a skateboard for your birthday?

He answered immediately. Are you serious?? Betty that's insane!! A second later: Wait but no you can't do that, they're so expensive. I'm not going to ask you to get me something like that.

But you didn't ask me. I had the idea myself. Idc what you say, I'm getting you a skateboard

Wow…that's…wow. That's crazy. Wow.

I grinned as I tucked my phone away. A skateboard. I had really thought of the perfect present for James.

Sabotage Prompt: Write a list of ten awesome things about a person and give it to them
I'm not including the list because it has some personal stuff on it but I wrote a list and gave it to one of my best friends.
Battlegrounds: Character's Motive Revealed to be Revenge

But as I rounded the corner to my next class, I felt saw my vision wash red.

There, laughing with her friends in front of the classroom door, was Lena. Lena. Three days ago, James had tripped and landed face-first in front of her. Books had spilled out of his bag: Anne of Green Gables, The Wizard of Oz, and, of course, Peter Pan. Lena would have laughed just because he tripped, but the books were just the icing on the cake. She kicked one of them away, crushing the pages and shattering the spine. I hadn't been there - James had told me later - but if I had been, I probably would have smashed in her nose.

It was a good thing I didn't have any classes with her, James had said wryly, because if I saw her, I wouldn't be able to restrain myself. I had rolled my eyes and shaken him off, but I knew he was right.

And here she was, like a figment of my worst intentions. I had counted on not seeing her.

My feet leaped at her. My hands closed around her arms, and somehow we were both on the ground, Lena shrieking as my hands found her face.

“What the hell?” she shouted, throwing her hands up to protect her face.

I had no idea what I was doing. All I knew was that this girl had hurt my best friend.

Suddenly, I heard someone yelling from behind me. “BETTY!” James hollered. He grabbed my arms and wrenched me off Lena. “What in God's name were you doing?” he demanded. His eyes, usually so calm, were glimmering with barely suppressed anger, and his hands were balled into fists.

The rage washed out of me like a receding wave. I looked at the scene around me in horror. Lena, panting on the ground. Her friends, huddled together, glaring and whispering. And worst of all, James, looking at me as if he'd never seen me before.

“I - I have no idea,” I whispered.

A spasm of pain flickered across James's face. “That's obvious enough.”

I couldn't deal with the look on James's face. More than that, I couldn't handle everyone staring at me. I'd never been bold or good with people. So I did the only sane thing I could think of.

I turned around and fled.

Sabotage Prompt: Take a fifteen-minute nap or do nothing for fifteen minutes
I stared at the ceiling for fifteen minutes and thought about the meaning of life
Kitchen: Write about your character in a place that makes them feel safe

The dean of students sent me home with a note telling my parents I would be suspended for the next three days, with a mark on my permanent record. I didn't care. Actually, I couldn't bring myself to care - I had just texted James an apology, and he wasn't responding.

I curled up on my bed, pressing my head into my pillow. Normally, I never felt safer anywhere than my room (except in the garden, of course). I fished a cardigan out from under my bed and pulled it over my head. It smelled like smoke and flowers, and it felt like home and safety.

There were photos of me and my mom and me and James on my corkboard next to my bed. I had pictures of flowers and cute dogs as well, but those two photos were right in the middle.

There was a pink-and-orange striped rug on the floor, and my curtains and bedspread matched. My whole room was cheerful - my mom had once joked that maybe a brighter room would make me more outgoing, but I didn't care if my room didn't fit me. I loved it.

Usually. That day, as I huddled into myself, I didn't notice any of it. I had never been an angry kind of person or someone who let their emotions get the best of them. Now I had, and it might have cost me James's friendship.

Sabotage Prompt: Read a book or article for ten minutes
I read Clockwork Princess by Cassandra Clare
Candyland: Your main character loses their short-term memories

I rolled over, and then all I saw was black.

***

"Betty! Betty!"

I groaned softly, rubbing my head. What happened? I opened my eyes, and all I saw was blinding white. I moaned, shutting my eyes again.

“Oh, Betty! Betty!” I heard my mother's panicked voice above me. “Are you awake? Can you hear me? Can you see me?”

“Uh, yeah,” I mumbled. I rubbed at my head, almost screaming in pain when I feel a bump. “Uh - what happened?”

“Oh, honey, you were at home, and you fell off your bed, I guess-”

“Wait, what? Why was I at home?”

There was a beat of silence. “You don't remember?”

“I - I remember getting off the school bus this morning, then - Mom, how did I get here?”

I heard a soft, frightened intake of breath.

“You don't remember punching the girl? Or coming home? Or getting suspended?”

It took a moment for the words to sink in. “I did what?”

My mom turned away for a moment. I saw her shoulders shake, but when she turned back, her face was perfectly composed. “Do you know who I am?”

“Y-yeah, you're my mom - but - ”

“Who's your best friend?”

“James,” I answered immediately. “But please - can you explain - ”

“What did we have for dinner last night?”

“Chicken sliders!” I practically shouted. “Look, I'm awake. All I want to know is how I ended up here.”

My mother sat down carefully in the seat next to me. “What is the last thing you remember?”

“Getting on the bus,” I said. “Everything - Mom, everything after that is just a blank.”

She sighed and took my hand gently. “The school dean said you saw a girl today before your next class, and you - well, Betty, he said you punched her. James pulled you off of her, and you were sent home with a note saying you're suspended for the next three days - well, two days, now.”

“I've been out for a whole day?” I screamed. I couldn't breathe. Oh, god, I couldn't breathe-

“Someone!” my mom yelled. “We need - we need - ” She punched a button next to my head, and the last thing I remembered was nurses pouring into my room.

***

“She just panicked,” I heard a voice say soothingly. “Well, this time. We're not sure what happened the time before.”

“Where was she - where did her mom find her?” James's voice said. James? Why is he here?

“Next to her bed,” the other voice - probably a nurse - replied. “She's going to be okay. Except-”

“James?” I said softly. I forced my eyes open, and for the second time in recent memory, white light assaulted my vision.

“Betty!” he exclaimed. I turned my head toward him, and I was shocked to see his red eyes, the sleepless circles under his eyes.

The nurse in the room fluttered around, checking my vitals and doing whatever nurses do, but I barely noticed. “James,” I said urgently. "James, my mom mentioned something about me punching a girl, and then I got suspended - she said you were there, you pulled me off the girl, so can you - can you tell me - what happened, James?“

James's eyes flew open, and he dashed one of his hands across his eyes. ”Your mom said you don't remember what happened two days ago,“ he said in a tone of dulled wonder. ”I didn't believe her. I didn't want to believe her. Betty, you don't remember jumping on Lena?“

”Lena?“ I said blankly. ”I mean - I know I was mad at her, but I actually hurt her?" To my extreme mortification, I feel tears gathering in my eyes. Oh, *. *. No, Betty, don't you dare cry.

Then James started crying too, and I heard myself blubbering out, “James, why are you crying?”

"Because, Betty - Betty, you're so hurt. You fell out of your bed, and your mom literally found you in a pool of blood - “ His voice cracked. ”When my mom told me, I don't think I've ever been more terrified in my life.“ He turned his face away, suddenly looking embarrassed.

I hesitated, then held my hand out. ”Can you hold my hand?" I asked quietly. He looked at me in surprise, but his fingers closed around mine. I took a deep breath.

I felt like I could breathe again.

***

Sabotage Prompt: Write five things you're proud about
Again I'm not going to share because a lot of the stuff was personal but I did write it!
Misc. Prompt: Go to a random person's profile in your cabin and introduce a new character based on them

“High school!” James exclaimed, skating to a stop in front of my house. I laughed from where I was sitting on my front steps. “Are you ready?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” I sighed.

“Well, today's just the tour of our new high school.” He twirled his skateboard around, propped it against the side of my house, and grabbed my hand. “Betty, come on!”

“Oh my gosh, why are you so excited?” I groaned, reluctantly allowing myself to be pulled along by him.

“Because it's high school!” James practically yelled. “A whole new world!”

“You're acting like a third grader,” I pointed out. “Maybe if you act like a ninth grader I'll take you seriously.”

James rolled his eyes at me. “Fine. So, how do you, do, Miss Betty?”

I shoved him. “I didn't mean that way.” He grinned at me, and I found myself blushing. So yes, I had been noticing that James was more…attractive…recently. It didn't mean anything. He was my best friend. I was his. That was it.

Our high school was a ten-minute walk from my house, and I found myself gawking at it when we arrived. It was huge, shaped like a giant V with big trees in front and what looked like a courtyard in the back.

“It's amazing, isn't it?” James said proudly, like he'd designed it himself.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“Group Three!” we heard a voice calling. “Group Three students, over here, please!” A girl who looked as if she was a senior or a graduate, maybe, holding up a sign and waving at us.

“Group Three?” I asked James, and he nodded, still grinning hugely.

“Hey!” the girl said warmly, smiling at us. “My name is Rosemary, and I'm going to be your tour guide! Welcome to Seaside High! I've been here since I was a freshman like you guys, and I learned so much here.” She rubbed her hands on her jeans anxiously but her smile never faltered. I liked her already.

“So I'm just going to make sure that everyone is here,” Rosemary continued. “When I say your name, raise your hand and say present or absent or whatever you want to. Inky?”

“Here!”

“Keila?”

“Here!”

“Kitty?”

“Here!”

“Betty?”

“Here!”

“Lucy?”

“Absent!” A ripple of laughter spread through our group, and Rosemary smiled indulgently before adding,

“James?”

“Here!” he called.

“And finally, August?”

“Here,” a girl whispered behind me. Rosemary frowned. “August? Are you here?”

“Here,” August whispered again. She stared at the ground, her face hidden by long waves of brown hair.

“She's here!” I called. “Behind me.”

“Oh!” Rosemary said, sounding relieved. “I guess I didn't hear you.” She laughed, almost seeming nervous. “Well, let's go, everyone!”

She led us through the big double doors of the school, and we entered into a huge room lined with lockers. Huge windows flooded the room with light, and if I looked up at the tall ceiling, I could see floors with railings that wrapped around the walls.

“Wow,” I breathed.

“Wow is right,” James agreed. “I was right, wasn't I? High school is going to be amazing!”

“Hold on,” I said. “This is just our first glimpse. Don't decide this is going to be all amazing just by this.”

“Who's that girl over there?” he asked, nodding at August.

“Oh,” I said. “That's August. She's really shy, I guess.”

“That girl who Rosemary didn't hear? She's pretty.” James stared after her, and I felt a hot swoop of hot, unfamiliar jealousy. Jealousy? Why was I jealous?

“Seaside High really gives you the opportunity to try new things,” Rosemary said. She led us through a series of nice-looking classrooms and wide, fresh-smelling hallways. “I played violin before coming here, and I was able to join the Regional Band with the help of the teachers here. I got into horseback riding, and I was able to make new friends. I was pretty introverted before coming here - ” At this Rosemary shot a quick glance at August, “ - but I was able to make friends quickly.

”The best part of school here is being able to balance a lot of things. I'm a band kid, an athlete, and a scholar. I'm - I'm probably what you'd call a nerd, so being at a school like this was awesome because I could do everything. Any questions?“

James's hand shot up. ”What are our schedules going to look like?“

”That's a great question!“ Rosemary said. She pulled out a sheaf of papers. ”I have a sample schedule for all of you.“

”Betty, we have a whole hour every day counting that fifteen-minute break for free time!“ James said excitedly.

”Deep breaths. Don't hyperventilate,“ I advised him. He laughed, spinning around.

”I love this already,“ he said.

”Yeah,“ I said quietly. ”Uh, me too." Honestly, though, I was terrified. Not of high school, exactly, but…of change. Everyone said high school was a time of changes, or shifting friendships, shifting ideas…but I liked my friendships. I liked my ideas. And losing James's friendship? That was the worst thought of all. My new…feelings were bad enough. I didn't want anything to put a wedge into our friendship.

I looked over to where August was sitting. Rosemary was talking to her, and there was even a small smile on August's face. She had shaken her hair back from her face, and with a sinking feeling in my chest, I really did see how pretty she was. Her hair was long and wavy, her eyes large and dark, and her face was small and perfectly heart-shaped.

“Maybe August can be our friend,” James said quietly.

My heart lurched, but all I said was, “Yeah. Maybe.”

Sabotage Prompt: Thank three people who are part of SWC
I thanked Birdi, Moonlit, and Kit!
Postscript Printing Press Prompt: Describe your character feeling and overcoming a sense of failure

***

I had no idea how I ended up there.

OhmygodhowtheheckdidIgethere???

Yes, I screwed up the courage to ask James on a date. And yes, he said yes. And now we were at an ice cream place, and James was looking at me over the table, and I had no idea what to say.

I had spent the last two years grappling with the fact that I had a crush (more like I was in love with him, but whatever) on my best friend. Then the first day of junior year, I saw him flirting with somebody, which he totally had the right to do, but the next thing I knew, I was asking him out on a date.

And now here we were, at the ice cream place, awkwardly licking ice cream cones and trying to find something to talk about.

“So, uh, is that a new shirt?”

I jumped. “It's actually vintage.”

“Oh.” We sat in stilted silence until James sighed. “Betty, are you okay?” He reached over the table and took my hand, and suddenly I had to struggle to keep the air in my lungs. “Seriously, if you're not comfortable, we can go home - or turn this into a not-date or something - ”

“No!” I blurted out. I took a deep breath. “I'm fine.”

“You sure?” He shot me a concerned look, and I almost wanted to cry. It was so stupid. I usually wasn't like this, but when James had said yes, my first thought was that he'd said yes out of pity. That he would never go on a date with someone like me when he could be with the girl he was flirting with, or August, who was now part of our friend group. I wasn't ugly or anything, but I wasn't pretty like August, and I didn't have an outstanding personality like some people.

I was so terrified that this whole thing would just fail.

“Yes.” I took another deep, steadying breath. “I'm fine.” I brushed my fingers against my face again, where I had covered up a new patch of pimples with some makeup.

“I've known you my whole life, Betty. I know that you're not fine.”

There was no point lying to James. “Can we - can we go somewhere else?” I asked, slightly breathlessly. “Like to a - a park or something?”

“Of course,” James agreed easily. He stood up, still holding my hand.

We wandered around the nearby park aimlessly for a while, and things became a little more natural. We talked about school, and teachers, and James's little brother. It felt like normal again.

“Why do you keep brushing your face?” James asked, long after the ice creams had been thrown away and we were walking back to his car.

“Oh,” I said, reaching up again before dropping my hand hastily. “Um, I'm just…just a little…worried, I guess, about how my face looks.”

“You're worried?” James asked, looking at me in genuine astonishment. “Betty, you're…” He trailed off, his cheeks suddenly flaming bright red.

“I'm what?” Great and all, but not that pretty? Or all that amazing in any way?

“You're beautiful,” he finished, his voice barely a whisper.

"I'm what?“ I had misheard him. I had to have misheard him.

He was still blushing, still staring at the ground, but he said, ”You're beautiful, Betty. Really. I've always thought you were pretty, but you're…I mean, you're really beautiful. And that's not the only reason I like you!“ he hurried to add. ”You're kind, and you're funny, and you've put up with me all these years.“ He shot me an anxious smile.

”You like me?“ I asked. ”I mean - as - as more than a friend?“

He laughed. ”Why else would I agree to go on a date with you?“

I mulled over that. ”Can I kiss you?“ I blurted out.

He grinned. He took my hands, then gently wrapped his arms around my waist. My mouth went dry as his face drew closer, and closer -

(warning: heavily romantic scene ahead, if you're not comfortable skip the next paragraph)

His lips pressed against mine. The kiss was tentative at first, and uncertain, a hesitant sliding of his lips against mine, but then my fingers scrabbled against his back and it became more heated - James swallowed my gasp, and suddenly I was pressed up against the side of his car, my hands tangled in his hair and his fingers pressing into my back -

He broke away carefully, his hands still tight around me. ”So?“ he asked. ”How was that for our official first kiss?“

I leaned my head against his shoulder. ”Pretty great,“ I said, and I could feel his laughter against me.

He held my hand almost the whole way home. I protested, telling him he needed to keep his hands on the steering wheel, but he just ran his fingers over my knuckles and said he was fine.

”So are we officially boyfriend and girlfriend now?“ I asked.

”You tell me,“ he said, with an uncharacteristic look of nervousness. ”Do you want to be…official?“

”Yeah,“ I said. ”Of course - wasn't that obvious?“

He laughed, slightly breathlessly. ”Well, after having a crush on you for about a year and not having the courage to ask you out, I'm not sure of anything anymore.“

”James,“ I said carefully, taking his hands. ”I really do like you. Okay? And if you need me to prove it again - “ I leaned over and kissed him slowly. ”That should be proof enough.“

James looked slightly dazed. ”Yeah. Okay.“ He brushed a kiss across the back of my hand. ”Come on."

Ending: Tie up your story with a happy ending

We walked to my door on my cracked cobblestone front pathway, James's hand tight around mine. “Are your parents home?”

“Yes - James, what are you planning?” I knew James well enough to know that my parents being home was probably worse than them not being there.

He grinned, leaping onto the porch, bathing himself in the soft yellow light of our porch lanterns. Somehow, James looked even better looking under the golden glow. The golden flecks in his eyes became even more obvious, and I wanted to grab him and - wow. I took a deep breath.

“Hello? Betty's parents? I'm here to tell you that I'm in love with Betty! Your daughter!” He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled up at the top floor of the house.

In love. In love. In love.

“Hello? I just wanted to let you know - ”

“Oh my god, James, they'll think you're drunk!” I pressed my hand against his mouth.

“But I am drunk!” He pulled away, tossing his hands up and spinning around. “I'm drunk on…on joy, and air, and love, and you!” His eyes looked bright and almost wild.

I watched the lights click on in my parents' room. “Yes, well, try explaining that - ” James's lips crashed against mine, firmly putting all thoughts of my parents out of my mind. “Did you mean it?” I asked breathlessly when I pulled back.

“I meant all of it,” James said. “But which part specifically?”

“That you're in love with me?”

He pressed his lips against my forehead. “Of course,” he murmured against my skin. “I've been in love with you for at least a year now.”

My heart felt like it was singing. “I love you too,” I whispered. I felt his smile, felt his relief and joy.

“Your parents are coming to come for my blood if I don't let you go now,” he mumbled.

I carefully extracted myself from his hold. “See you in the morning?”

“See you in the morning.” I watched from the porch until he drove off. James. My best friend. My love.

***

James and I managed to stay together for the rest of high school and through college (except for what happened during the summer between junior and senior year, but I try not to think about that). My best friend, and the boy - now man - that I loved.

He proposed to me in our garden, in front of a bed of pink flowers. Today, we are getting married.

“You're next,” my dad says. I glance out the window. James is already at the alter, and…wow, I'm about to be married.

The next few hours pass in a blur: James's hands in mine, his lips against mine, dancing with him, the crush of family members congratulation us. I don't take in any of it.

I think it only really sinks in when we're alone in a hotel room, nestled in his arms.

“I love you,” he murmurs. "I love you so much.“

I press my head against his chest. ”I love you too, James. I love you too."



A/N: I hope you enjoyed the story! I know that the ending is a bit rushed, but I wanted to get to James and Betty getting together before I ran out of prompts. I set up the James/August affair, but I wasn't able to get to it, so I just referenced it in my last little section. Also, my sabotage prompts don't match up with my sabotages because I lost all my progress right before finishing my story. Luckily, I had saved all the paths I went on and the sabotages I did, so I was able to quickly redo everything the same way as I did the first time and get the final code. The minigames picture won't match up with the prompts but I did do all the prompts, just in a different order than the picture will show. Also, I originally ended the story happily…so my neutral ending doesn't match with my story's ending.

Inspiration Intro

Hello everyone and welcome to our second weekly This week, we’re going to be focusing on both inspiration and mental health! Many of our best ideas can come from relaxing, and that’s what we’re encouraging you to focus on this week. Again, a huge thank you to my fellow daily team members for developing and organizing this weekly <3

This weekly starts on March 9th at 12:01 a.m. UTC. Also remember that weeklies cannot be submitted until two days after they start, so on March 11th at 12:01 a.m. UTC - you can start writing before then, but please pace yourself and have fun!

Daily 7/30

“Listen, I know it's unpleasant,” I tell my brother.

“Yeah, I know you know!” he shoots back at me. His hands are twisted behind his back, and he's pacing back and forth nervously. “That doesn't mean it's easy to do!”

I sigh. Levi's only two years older than me, but sometimes the gap between us seems decades apart.

He stares at the plate on the table in front of him. On it rests a single object. Levi catches me looking at it, scowls heavily, and resumes his pacing. "I don't understand why they want me to do this of all things. It's such a stupid test. I don't get it. I don't get it!“

”Levi, please, just get it over with. It can't be that bad.“

”You imagine being in my place!“ he shouts, and I try my best not to recoil. He asked for me to be here - but I'm having a hard time remembering that.

”I can leave,“ I threaten coldly.

Levi stops pacing and sighs. ”Don't do that,“ he says quietly. ”I'm sorry.“ He grips the back of the chair behind the table, his knuckles white. ”I…I'm scared,“ he whispers.

”Yeah,“ I say. ”I understand.“ I place my hand over his. ”But this about it. So many people have done it before, and they're okay. All you've wanted your whole life is to be a knight in the Corps. And you're so close. The only thing left for you to do is this. Just one small thing."

He swallows hard. Then he nods. Carefully, slowly, he sits down at the table. He looks steadily at the object on the plate: a small, unassuming metal ball.

A bullet.

His fingers trembling just slightly, Levi picks it up. He brings it to his mouth.

And he bites down.

Daily 7/31 (last daily!!)

Wow, I can barely sit down to write this. This is so bittersweet, knowing that such a fantastic month is closing but there will be so much more to come. I know whatever I write here will never be able to truly encapsulate how much I love all of y'all and how much gratitude I feel for everyone, but I'll try my best.


I don't even know where to start but I feel like the best place is SWC as a whole: thank you to every single camper, host, and co that's been part of SWC this session. Reading your comments about mangos and arson and points has been so entertaining and fun. This is a really warm and welcoming community, and every day I (someone who basically hates talking to people) felt excited to come to the main cabin and talk to people and discuss the finer points of the weeklies and dailies.

Secondly, Thriller cabin: I couldn't have asked for a better cabin for my first SWC session. Everyone was so upbeat, and I looked forward every morning to waking up and seeing what the new rift challenge and daily check-ins were. I loved bonding with y'all over defeating Myth and sour watermelon candy and the myriad of inside jokes we had. The storyline was so unique, the idea of the Rift was amazing, and working with everyone on the Rift challenges was the epitome of teamwork and, from what I can tell, what SWC is all about. The Word Wars with all of you were so amazing; I don't think any other cabin was as motivated as we were and that's thanks to all of us yelling and motivating each other.

Our amazing leader and cos: Birdi, Moonlit, and Kit.

Birdi, thank you for being our rock, the person who was always there, organizing our cabin and reminding everyone to do the Rift challenges and making sure everyone is okay, both in real life and on Scratch. Also, thank you for being an INCREDIBLE host of SWC. Everything was so neat and organized, and leading a cabin and hosting an online camp with almost 500 campers requires a presence of mind and organizational skills that I can only dream of having. You were absolutely the best leader and host I could have asked for, and thank you so much for everything that you do.

Moonlit, you were our motivation and our hype all month long. Thank you for pelting us with motivation muffins every morning and putting up anti-Myth banners so that every day when we woke up, there was a fresh dose of motivation awaiting us, helping us get energized for the day. Thank you for being so fun and upbeat and setting the tone for the whole cabin.

Kit, thank you for being a calming presence for our cabin. You were always there to talk to, whether about Scratch or real-life things. It was awesome chatting with you in the Timescape, and in the main cabin.

Harry, the most fabulous mascot of any cabin ever! Thank you for being our cheerleader, for popping into the rift and cheering us on whenever we needed it. Talking to you at any time is so fun, and I'm so happy you were Thriller's mascot.

The Daily Team, thank you for coming up with awesome, engaging dailies and weeklies! Every daily was something new and exciting, and I was always incredibly eager every day to see what the new daily was. The weeklies were all so unique but all so fun - especially the last one! You all are one of the main reasons SWC was such a highlight for me this month, so thank you a million times for all the hard work you put in to make our assignments amazing.

Myth, I didn't think I would ever be thanking you, but thank you for being a worthy rival. The rivalry between Thriller and Myth was what really made this session exciting and made me motivated to get up and write. The Word Wards wouldn't have been half as fun without the incentive of beating you guys, and I'm pretty sure whatever motivating magic dust in Moonlit's muffins was anti-Myth dust (and just remember, writing this thank you gave Triller almost 100 more points to beat you ^w^)

Writing Competition Judges, thank you for all the work you're doing and will do: reading all our writing and then JUDGING IT. I find it so hard to critique things, so I feel the impossibility of your task, especially when you have to critique SO MANY pieces of writing. Thank you for all the work you do to shape our results.

Robin, thank you for hosting this session and keeping it so organized and timely. I swear, you and Birdi have magical superpowers for leading cabins AND hosting this session. This session was absolutely amazing, and we all owe a huge thank you to you for making this so memorable.


Bakie and Honey, thank you for cohosting this session! I don't think it's really understood exactly how much you do for SWC, and please know that all of us appreciate everything you do to keep SWC running smoothly.

Once again, a massive thank you to everyone in SWC. This was an amazing experience that I'll never forget, and I can't wait to see what the next session brings!