DAILY 11/17

WC 200

BANANA BREAD

Though you may be despised by most people
My love for your sweet taste is unending
Whenever a banana is unfit
You figure out a way, make use of it
When you come warm straight out of the oven,
I know that I am in true bread heaven
You are soft but crumbly, exactly right
And in my opinion, a true delight
You are auburn and brown, golden inside
Though the Baudelaires truly despise you,
And no one likes it, none even tries to,
I like you very much, hear me, it’s true
When mother makes you in the oven, warm
I enjoy you, and you feel quite like home
I’m totally running out of these words
I have made up this many verses, yes
But my mind has stopped its ideas
So here I am, just filling the spaces
The quality really has degraded,
But bread, I’ll tell you, I integrated
I have proof, it’s true, you know I love you
Script for the win, Nov. 2022
This is not good daily material,
But I need a break and some cereal
So I think I am close to being done
Just keep on writing till the time comes- now

The Girl With Red Hair - Writing Competition Entry

Apollon walked across the darkened street. The only sound was the harsh clack of his boots on the stone and a muffled cough from somewhere beyond him. Lanterns would normally glow in each of these windows, but what people were left instead huddled in the scant beams of the moon, too poor to pay for oil and too sick to light it.
As he passed by house after house, he scanned every door, but none had what he was looking for.
He didn’t bother knocking to ask if anyone had seen a little girl with vivid red hair. He couldn’t explain why he needed to find her. To be honest, Apollon struggled to understand the mechanics of his Sight. Besides, everyone here was much too ill and too scared to help him.
This slum, what was left of a once large neighborhood, housed only disappointment. None of them were right. Would he ever find her? Was she even real?
Apollon kept searching, though. Chasing the elusive hope.
Until finally, he caught up to it.
Apollon halted. Halfway down another dim street, a brass doorknob, gleaming from recently being turned, greeted him. Above it, a scuff mark on the door signified that it was the correct place.
Then there was the flag: a flickering shadow of midnight waving mournfully in the wind. Someone had died here. Apollon’s heartbeat quickened.
What if the girl was dead? Then he might never discover why he’d Seen her.
Hurrying to the house and testing the door, Apollon found it opened easily. One barrier down. He stepped over the threshold and into the grim interior. A single window let in a faint glow of murky light, barely allowing him to discern the shadow of something slumped against the opposite wall.
“Hello?” he called, closing the door behind him. “Is anyone there?”
“Stay away,” a small voice responded. “You might get sick, too.”
But Apollon didn’t care. “Are you the girl from my vision?” he asked.
No reply.
He decided to go with a safer question, to perhaps put her more at ease. “Are you sick?”
“No.”
“Then why . . . ?”
“My aunt was.”
Was.
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“S’not your fault.”
Apollon cleared his throat and took a step forward. The figure became more distinct, and he could make out a worn gray blanket wrapped around the girl’s shoulders and head.
“Is anyone else here with you?”
“No.”
He kneeled, and the girl turned her head. A lock of bright copper hair slipped out from under the blanket.
“I’m by myself, too,” he said. “What do you say to coming with me? I know a place where there is no sickness and no king who ignores his people’s troubles.”
He couldn’t quite tell, but Apollon thought the girl flinched at his words. After a moment, though, her frown slowly morphed to a tiny, almost imperceptible smile.
“I’d like that.”

- - -

co-written by @criminal-intent and @violent-measures

Daily!! 215 words!!
couplet rhymes?? 90 words

Have you ever tried the fantastical bread
called corn bread?
You always know that a bread is good if it has “bread” in it's name.
It's a game,
you know, making different food,
yet bread wins it all, it's good (good, good)!
corn bread is made
of corn, duh, just like what the pilgrims laid,
they used corn for their
food, (yuh), just like the stomach lair
every person holds.
corn-bread has no folds, (no)
made in america (ca-ca-ca),
maybe you'll inherit a
ability to cook,
delicious bread in books!

shakespeare sonnet 73 words

corn bread is from
america, where there's corn galore,
here they beat the drum (um-um-um)
as thy ancestors landed before.

bread made from corn,
cooked in avo oil,
fed to newbornes;
keep it from the dirty soil.

O'er-rauhot o'er wrought the disgusting-ness known
as Wonder Bread,
throw it off it's own throne;
just like they had said.

for it's corn, corn bread, for the win!
it's own recipe carved in a fake mezzotint.

free verse poetry 52 words

Hi, it's me, it's me, corn-bread-erdy!!
Delicious and firm, you should try me! It's honestly amazing,
I can't believe I exist.
No one can beat I, corn bread, for many
reasons, yet the first and most?
I AM CORN, COOKED IN AVOCADO OIL.
and have you ever tried me in mango oil ? :>

SWC Daily - November 17 - Bread Poem

Twas once a bread I sought out
It was much too perfect
Too majestic for the eyes to bear
With thou art beauty
Splendor
Pleasing
Dignified
Exalted
Beauty beyond all raw organisms
But twas once said
By many noble sort
Perhaps it was
Too beautiful
Too dignified
Too exalted
Too splendiferous
But to that I said ‘Nay!’
For it cannot be
With bread as majestic as such
It cannot be too much of anything
Perhaps not enough
It was said by many
But of none of none at all
The bread
That bread
That bread that will never live up to the expectations of
Humankind
Thy understands not what
Happens when you just
CANNOT
Cannot be perfect
Exalted
Beautiful
Dignified
Pleasing
But of course not splendiferous
Because unless
You are bread
The perfect combination
Or perhaps not
You will never
Ever
Live up to the expectations
Of people
With ridiculously high standards
That they themselves
Could never live up to
Bread
Is more perfect than the rest of the world may say
Through pain
And suffering
And mold
It will always be
Bread
Pancake
Danish
Pastries
It's all too
Great
More than words could ever express
Imagine being bread
Imagine it
Bread

critique for @seasiide

LYNN

My father had trained me to fight at the age of five, but even after twelve more tireless years of training, I was never prepared for what lied ahead of me.
I believe it would be “lay” not “lied” ahead. Otherwise, I like the opening! gives you some idea of the POV character, what her father’s like, and a sense of anticipation for future events. Great!

I crouched behind a flipped table, gun cocked and bullets whistling past my ears. The rhythmic banging of bullets and my heavy breathing sounded almost like a song as I tried to calm my rapidly increasing heart rate. As I risked a glance past the table, a bullet narrowly missed my head, so I decided that it would be better to stay put. I looked to the sky and leaned against the table.
I like this a lot! She seems kind of comfortable in the situation, which, given the opening, makes sense. Perhaps clarify why it sounds like a song? Is it so recognizable and familiar after twelve years of training to fight that it’s comforting, like a lullaby?

This is what I get for going on a mission before the ball, I thought, annoyed.
Sighing, I blew a strand of hair out of my face and turned to face the battle in front of me. I quickly aimed at the closest guy and fired, before swiftly moving back into the safety of the table. The sound of a sharp inhale and the thud of him falling to the ground signalled that my mark had been true.
Nice! I like the details of the different actions.

I eyed my surroundings, searching to see if any of the enemy’s soldiers were creeping up on me. When the coast was clear, I rolled to the right, whipped out my pistol, and shot the nearest soldier before moving to a spot behind a nearby pillar.
My only problem with this is that she switched from calling the enemy man a “guy” to a “soldier” which feels much more formal and stilted vs. previously sounding very colloquial and casual. I’d just pick one.

Alert, I whipped my head around and scanned the vicinity for the sign of more threats. My breath caught when I heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching from somewhere behind me. I turned to face them, but before I could even reach for my pistol’s trigger, they hit me on the head with the butt of their gun. I yelped and crumpled to the cold, hard pavement. The last thing I saw was the stranger’s smug smirk before everything faded to black.
I like this! Perhaps just say “…my assailant hit me on the head…”? The sentence just feels a bit muddled there. Otherwise, great!

“…Don’t worry. I’ve got you…” A voice whispered.
I like the use of the ellipses here—makes it “sound” like it’s fading in and out! Only critique here is that there would be a comma at the end of the second ellipses and “a” should not be capitalized. (It’s a dialogue tag, not an action beat.)
The words sounded as though the speaker was going back and forth, each word’s syllables changing in volume constantly.
I’d just probably use a word other than “going.”
I felt someone grab my limp body and gently place me into their arms. My throbbing head lolled back and forth as the person walked, their pace slow and steady as they carried me.
After a while, I felt myself gradually getting lolled to sleep, mesmerized with the soft intakes and exhales of their breathing and the way their shoes echoed across the pavement with each step.
The second use of “lolled” should be “lulled” I believe. :)

“Princess,” A voice said. It sounded faint, as though the speaker was far away.
I groaned and clutched my head. My skull ached like it was on fire. I tried to remember what had happened a few moments before, but I could barely think with my head’s constant pounding.
“Princess, can you hear me?” This time it was slightly louder, the words more distinct and articulate.
“Lynn,” The voice said, more demanding now. “wake up!”
“The” should not be capitalized and there should be a comma instead of a period after now.
My eyes fluttered open, and I struggled to sit up.
“What?” I muttered groggily as I rubbed my weary eyes.
After blinking repeatedly for a while, I opened my eyes and squinted at the bright sunlight. I stared through the small crevice in my eyes at the figure in front of me. I could easily tell that it was my best friend and guard, Harry Maude, with his characteristic messy, strawberry blonde hair and honey brown eyes. He looked distinguished wearing a black suit and tie with matching slacks.
“Oh, finally,” he said, relieved. “The ball starts in less than five minutes! You have to get ready!”
Hehe, this is really nice, I like this a lot—funny. I like how it’s jumped from serious peril to kind of less serious peril with little to no transition.

HARRY

Lynn’s eyes widened, and she jumped to her feet, suddenly awake, as I left to give her some privacy.
I shut the door and stood outside, facing the wall like a stoic castle guard, which of course, I was. I could vaguely hear the sound of her wardrobe flinging open as she rummaged through the layers upon layers of clothes, grabbed one, and put it on.
I ordered myself to stop being a creep and stop listening in, so I flipped over my wrist and checked the time on my wristwatch. It was two minutes before the ball started.
I’d just say “watch” since you said “wrist” a moment before.
About a minute later, a guard came and stepped towards me.
“Tell Princess Lynette she’s on in a minute,” he said, before going back towards the grand, ornate double doors that led to the ballroom and facing them.
I gave a brief knock before opening the door and popping my head inside.
“Lynn, it’s almost time!” I hissed.
“Coming!” she said as she grabbed a hair tie that was hanging in her mouth and finished doing her hair.
She was draped in a pale green, floor-length dress that complimented her eyes, and her light brown hair with blonde streaks was pulled into a messy bun. She was also wearing silk, ivory, elbow-length gloves that went well with her outfit. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, but she didn’t seem to think so.
Is it her demeanor that makes her seem like she doesn’t recognize her beauty? Are her shoulders hunched? Is she frantically trying to rearrange the skirt?
Lynn grabbed the tiara on her dresser, placed it on her head, and rushed out the door.
“Do I look okay? I wasn’t sure if-”
She suddenly stopped when a muffled voice shouted, “Princess Lynette from the kingdom of Carugo!”
Lynn took a deep breath, straightened her tiara, and walked up to the doors. I followed her, standing at her side, since she had chosen me to be her escort for the ball. Her heels clicked against the tile floor as they opened, revealing the thousands of people looking up at us. At the far end of the room, fairly conspicuous compared to the others around them, was King Roland and Queen Emeline of Carugo. I reminded myself that they were also Lynn’s father and stepmother. The queen had on a golden gown, while the king had on a matching gold suit, tie, and pants with a white undershirt.
There was a silver chandelier with golden jewels that hung above the center of the room, and red, velvet curtains that hung around the elaborate, glass windows. Do we need to know the windows are glass? Is it rare? The light from the sunset shined through the windows, making both the chandelier and windows sparkle. Shone, not shine. But I like the description here! Sparkles rule. :D
Lynn and I stepped forward and watched the crowd of people below us. We linked our arms and descended down the stairs. Lynn had a serious expression on her face, but I had known her too long to know that deep down she was actually really nervous. Maybe just say “and knew” instead of “to know”? Wording makes it seem like he doesn’t know she’s nervous.
After the crowd’s attention switched from us, we dropped our arms and stood there awkwardly. Lynn was the first to look away, and in doing so, saw her parents. She looked back towards me, unsure.
“I’ll meet up with you later,” I said, nodding.
“Alright,” she said hesitantly before heading towards the king and queen.

LYNN

“What took you so long?” Harry said jokingly as he walked towards me, hands in pockets with his thumbs sticking out.
I smiled as Harry elbowed me playfully. “Are you hungry?”
“Not really,” I replied.
“Well, I am,” he said, smirking. “Let’s go to the food bar.”
As I walked with Harry to the food bar, I tried to ignore the thrashing of my skull. It felt as though someone had stabbed it with a knife and took it out again. Trust me, I knew how that felt. O_O Is there a reason she’s not seeking medical attention?
But even the pain wasn’t the most important thing on my mind. What was worse was the fact that I had no memory of the past few events. All I could remember was going on a mission sent by my father, and then… nothing. I was just lying in my bedroom as Harry jostled me awake.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts, before wincing. I had realized too late that moving my head more than normal was a bad idea.
Unfortunately, Harry noticed and stopped walking.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed.
I wouldn’t have felt bad for lying if it wasn’t for the concerned look on his face.
Nevertheless, I said, “Yeah.”
He still looked worried, so I gave a slight smile in hopes to reassure him and kept walking. Harry didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press me and followed.
Suddenly, alarms started blaring, penetrating my train of thought. The warm, bright light of the ballroom suddenly changed to a neon red that circled the vicinity like a police siren. At first, all I saw were people screaming and running around. Women held their dresses up and some took off their heels, and their husbands helped escort them. Mobs of people ran towards the exits while the guards directed them. The guards gestured and pointed with their hands, I’d say “gestured” with their hands or just take out the “with their hands” entirely; you don’t typically point with anything other than your hands. looking nervous but in control. I barely noticed when Harry grabbed my waist and stepped in front of me protectively.
“What’s going on?” I shouted, trying to hear myself over the noise and my head’s throbbing. Oof!
“I don’t know!” he shouted back.
That’s when I saw him.
A man, dressed in all black, stood in the center of the room. He lingered right beneath the crystal chandelier, his eyes and the gun in his hands set on the figures in front of him: the queen and king.
I gasped and started running towards them, but Harry held me back.
“No, Lynette!” he ordered. “It’s not safe!”
“Well, they aren’t either!”
By then, most people had gone through the exits, and the guards stood by their posts, guns in hand.
The sight of my father stepping protectively in front of my stepmother made me wriggle out of Harry’s grasp and reach for the secret pocket on my dress that housed my pistol. But just then, I locked eyes with my father. His expression remained emotionless, but I could see that he didn’t want me to save him.
I realized then and there that pulling out a pistol would blow my cover.
When I was five years old, my father trained me to fight. I had memorized all the ways to kill a man by the time I was six, and I was a skilled assassin at seven. When I was about eight years old, my father had married my stepmother. We welcomed her into the family, and she welcomed me. That’s when my father and I started training in secret. My father admitted that he hadn’t told my stepmother about our “special talents”, as he liked to call it, and wasn’t planning on either. So, he started training me even harder, all the way to the age of sixteen. Even now, at seventeen, he still trains me, and we practice at a secluded area in the castle daily at midnight. Every guard thinks that he takes me on a late night stroll through the garden.
Ever since my mother was murdered on my fourth birthday, my father had grown bitter. He thought that training me to fight would prepare me and maybe stop more innocent loved ones from suffering the same fate.
Anyways, taking out a weapon and showing the world what I could do? Bad idea, especially with my publicity and being the future queen. It was probably what he had thought of too, but I just couldn’t leave him there to die. But I had no choice. Even he was stuck.
We were both trapped.
I dropped my hand from the hidden pocket and bit my lip.
“Fine, take me back to my room,” I said, defeated.
Harry looked surprised at the sudden attitude change. Even the aching of my head lowered for a few seconds, as if the pain was perplexed as well. I like this!
“You sure?”
“Positive,” I lied.
I looked back towards my father. He caught my gaze, held it, and nodded. He looked proud. For what, I’m not sure. I didn’t think running away from danger was something that should be celebrated, especially when you know you can fight it. And win. I like how definitive she is in her belief on this matter.
I blinked away my tears and looked away.
“Let’s go,” I said.
The nearest guards beckoned towards us, moving their hands quickly as a show for us to hurry. We ran, and for once I didn’t look back. Nice!! I really like it! Sorry if any of my comments seemed nitpicky. I think the worldbuilding is really interesting with the more stereotypical idea of royalty mixed with guns and such! I’d be excited to read more of this.

As for the other potential entry, I really like it! I’m not much of a poet myself, so I don’t have too much to say on it. I like the use of colors to describe different emotions. I *might* go with the poem? But I really like the story too, so I’m not sure… ack that was probably not helpful at all was it :’) my apologies! I’m very indecisive.. if you want anymore feedback lmk! Both potential entries are solid and I think either way you have a chance, and I wish you best of luck!!

Daily 15- Nov 17
202 words

Today's a very important day… homemade bread day (for the US)! (Oh, and also the birthday of one of the daily team members… lasagna .) Look at what bread come from your country (or if you don't want to reveal your country, pick a random bread), and make a poem based on that bread. 200 words for 200 points! (p.s. go wish @polarbear_17 a very lasagna birthday <3)

I did write more than one but the all equal up to 202 :>

Oh my beloved bread
You come in all forms

From pita to naan
Croissant to baguette
And bagels to sourdough
You all are alike

Alike in taste
You all are delicious
Warm
Freshly baked

————————

Sandwich bread
White bread
Whatever you are called
You are so soft
So fluffy

Best homemade
Best with butter
Best toasted

Crust is so crunchy
Only when homemade
Manufactured
Not as good
As homemade

The smell you leave behind
The taste you leave in my mouth
The joy

Ingredients
Check
Mixer
Check
Time to begin

Toss the ingredients
Into the bowl
Turn the mixer on

I’m a busy bee
Hard at work

Knead the dough
Let it rise
To get to fluffy texture

Gently put it in the pan
Let it rise some more
Rising is key

But it in the oven
Let bake
Heat up the house
On a cold winter day

Take it out
Don’t burn yourself
As that would not be fun

Slice into it
Spread some butter
And put it in your mouth

The bread you just made
Is your child
Protect it
Love it
Like your own
————-

Cornbread, my dear love
I need you to survive life
Without you I’d die

WEEKLY 3 PROOF

I chose sleep because I have a pretty much non-existent sleep schedule and have a hard time getting 6 hours of sleep per night, let alone 8. Because of this, I am constantly sleep deprived and I honestly can't remember the last time I felt well rested.

I think exercise would help me too because when I don't go for a walk, or do anything else active I just feel tired. That also means I have a very hard time focusing, which I'm already not good at. My body also feels weak when I don't exercise and I hate that.

A few years ago I used to always wake up at like 5 or 6 in the morning before it was light out. I loved seeing everything change from dark to light and watching the sun rise and the heat it gives off waking up the world. That really helped me wake up instead of just being tired all day like I do if I don't go outside. That is why I think more sunlight would help me.

I think listening to music more would help because I love listening to music but just don't do it very much at all. I barely know anything about music, actually. But it helps me focus on things, which I always have a hard time with, and it keeps me from being bored when I'm doing stuff. And for me, being bored leads to being dysregulated so trying to minimize the amount of time I'm bored is really good.

11/17/22: 215
Points: 200
Bread: Cornbread (I've typed that word so much now-)
Decadent and sweet
Honey compliments it’s flavor
Whenever we meet
Please do me a favor
And get me some cornbread

Please ever again
Give me the cornbread
Please my friend
Otherwise I’ll instead
Cry myself to sleep

Golden, crumbly
Lovely crust
I ask, humbly
I ask, I must
For the lovely cornbread.

Never ever again
Shall I ask for
White bread
Rolls
Sourdough
Only shall I ask for Cornbread

Lovely at cookouts
Decadent at a restaurant
Best thing on a date
You just can’t do without.

If you weigh 99 pounds
Eat a pound of cornbread
It will become 1% of you
It will become you

Cornbread rules us all
Never again will we be without
For cornbread provides
Cornbread loves us all

We need not worry any longer
About strife and pain and longing
For now we long for cornbread
Cornbread, the loveliest bread ever

Replace every food in your house with cornbread
Look in the fridge
All you should find is cornbread
Cornbread is all you need

Listen to me closely
Open up your ears to hear
Cornbread has arrived
Our overlords appear

Please submit
We beg you please
Eat the cornbread
Please, we beg

Cornbread is life
We must admit
That other breads are alright
But no other can compare
To cornbread

Nov. 17 Daily

Bread: Whole-Grain

Dark grains swirling throughout soft, kneaded dough
Each ever so slightly unique
Derived from plants grown far and wide
Yet now all compressed into one singular object
Barley, oats, wheat, rye, and more
To taste such a variety is nothing short of perfection
How satisfying to be able
To admire each intricate seed,
Each miniscule crop
Now combined to be
Sliced, toasted, and occasionally burnt
With butter or jam spread upon it
Mouthwatering scents drifting up to the nostril
The fresh smell of toasted bread—
How satisfying to be able
To slowly chew and savor the dark dough
With all its added textures
To pile slice after slice on top of one another
Making sandwich after sandwich
With all of its nutritional benefits
How satisfying to know
That this bread with all of its assortments
Is one of the healthiest to consume
For each seed provides something
Beneficial to one's health
Lowering the risk of disease or illness!
How satisfying to be able
To taste and feel the crunch
Of biting into such a plethora of seeds,
Grown so carefully and tenderly
By farmers who sweat and toil all day
In the unforgiving Sun
This bread may symbolize thanks
To all those who work so hard
To cultivate and to nourish
Both crops and people

215 words

cedar-forest wrote:

WEEKLY 3 PROOF

I chose sleep because I have a pretty much non-existent sleep schedule and have a hard time getting 6 hours of sleep per night, let alone 8. Because of this, I am constantly sleep deprived and I honestly can't remember the last time I felt well rested.

I think exercise would help me too because when I don't go for a walk, or do anything else active I just feel tired. That also means I have a very hard time focusing, which I'm already not good at. My body also feels weak when I don't exercise and I hate that.

A few years ago I used to always wake up at like 5 or 6 in the morning before it was light out. I loved seeing everything change from dark to light and watching the sun rise and the heat it gives off waking up the world. That really helped me wake up instead of just being tired all day like I do if I don't go outside. That is why I think more sunlight would help me.

I think listening to music more would help because I love listening to music but just don't do it very much at all. I barely know anything about music, actually. But it helps me focus on things, which I always have a hard time with, and it keeps me from being bored when I'm doing stuff. And for me, being bored leads to being dysregulated so trying to minimize the amount of time I'm bored is really good.

It won't let me edit so proof of comments:

In: brainstorming studio

Original comment: random idea: if you need motivation to just write anything, write about random memories like just anything you think about (it's also good for word wars but I still manage to lose them every time xD)

replies:

I'm glad!! I'm doing well <3

I'm glad you are! <3 I'm doing okay, and I think I might actually finish my first weekly!!

your life has come to being aswc leader, that's what <33

Weekly #3:

Part 1:
(57 words for my short time management schedule)

Part 2: (faction: prompt)

My prompt: think back to a favorite cartoon or child t.v. show of yours? Now, imagine a character from that t.v. show all grown up with maybe a job, or a family, or anything really! but they have to be at least 20 years older from their original age (if you don't know their age, just assume)

Add on #1:

Always-wriiting’s prompt: If you could only keep ONE of all of your possessions, what would that item be? Answer this question for your main character of your current WIP. Then, incorporate this object into the story and give context as to why it's so important. Good luck!

Add on #1: Try to turn the story into a poem about the object!


ButterflyWings22’s prompt: think of a color, then make up a character based off of the color, and write a story with them as the main character lol

Add on #2:

name you're character after the opposite color than the color chosen (ie: the color chosen is magenta and the opposite of that is green

AnnaHannah

try using something you found out about someone else recently. eg my friend has a concert coming up in February so I could use a winter concert as the setting for a story and musicians as the mcs

Add on #3: the main characters have to be characters from your fav book ^^


Part 3:

Day 1:

Water Intake - Man, I do NOT get a lot of water in me
Writing Thoughts out - I get frustrated a lot so this should help <3
Sleep - no comment. Just need to improve O-O

Day 2:

Spread Affection - I can be pretty harsh sometimes
Exercise - Does exercise count sitting in my comfy chair reading a 500 page book?
Healthy Eating - yeah ice cream and cake is not healthy eating

Day 3:

Water intake - More of this since I need to work on it :’)
Sunlight - ties into exercise since last I checked reading in the dark aint sunlight not even light -_-



Technique: Turning off electronics.

This is a very important thing to focus on exceptionally in our generation. Nowadays electronics are taking up a huge part of our lives. Whether we use it for educational purposes or as a time to get away from the stressful things in life. Using this as a method to get away from stress is actually hurting you and is not very beneficial. For example, my mom always tells me that I should not be on electronics one hour before I sleep. I’M LOOKING AT YOU SWCERS WHO STAY UP LATE IN THE NIGHT TYPING UP THEIR WEEKLY. Going on electronics are causing harm to your eyes and strain them. I can confirm that this is very true since anytime I go on electronics before I sleep for a long period of time- I can’t fall asleep AT ALL and I wake up early for school so I just stay tired for the rest of the day. Another reason is that it can be quite distracting. Things like scratch (which I classify as social media) can cause you to lose focus on more important things. Sometimes during times when you need to be 100% focused. Maybe during tests your mind will wander to scratch conversations you’ve had or an argument you’ve had online since we all know that despite the ups to scratch it can be a little toxic! I can also prove this from experience since I have gotten a C, a 71%, since I wasn’t focused and was thinking about playing roblox. Yeah, not one of my best choices- so I don’t make the same mistake as I did.

(271 words)

Total words: 679 words!

Chapter One of “Project S”

A terrible pain wrenched through me, like my head was being ripped off.
I felt myself collapsing to the ground but I wasn’t really conscious anymore. I was somewhere in between. In between consciousness and what? What was happening to me? The ripping pain continued, and the damp brick wall in front in front of me flickered in and out of sight before
everything
went

black.

I was in darkness for a while. Well, at least, what seemed like a while. You never know how long “a while” is when you’re floating in a dark, endless abyss. “A while” could be a thousand years. “A while” could be five minutes you overdramatized. I really wasn’t sure how long “a while” was in a place that was probably outside of the space-time continuum that I really loved and would like to get back to.
I didn’t know if my eyes were open, or I was even floating. All spacial awareness was gone, consumed by darkness and a feeling of lightheadedness.
I was alone with my thoughts, which wasn’t that entertaining. I pointlessly tried to figure out what had just happened, and tried to stay at the illogical conclusion that I’d simply passed out. Yep. Passed out in the middle of a perfectly fine day, with absolutely nothing wrong.
Yeah, that definitely wasn’t it.
I kept going in circles, over and over again, going through idea after idea: heart attack, panic attack, some other attack…What about the weird ripping pain, then? How would I explain that?
I wish I had hands so I could pull my hair out.
I began to feel tingly all over - meaning, I could feel my body again, thankfully. But it was that painful feeling that came when your feet started waking up again after sitting in criss-cross applesauce too long. I gritted my teeth, trying not to scream.
“Asher?” a voice said.
I felt something. A bed. I was lying on a bed. I opened my eyes slowly, squinting at the harsh glow from a bright light above me.
“Asher?” it repeated.
I groaned, raising a hand to my eyes and flexing my fingers as the tingly feeling faded ever-so-slowly away. “Asher…” I mumbled semi consciously.
“You’re awake!” I identified the voice as female. It was high and trilling, and reminded me of…
Of…
What?
I forced myself, despite the blaring light, to look at the carrier of this voice. She had short, dark brown hair in a pixie cut and silver earrings. She wore a bulky, white lab coat with a name tag that read “Assistant Dr. Hayes”. It said something else below that, but I couldn’t make it out.
“I have to tell the others you’re not dead!” she cried and raced out of the room, and I watched my only possible source of information leave me.
No, just look around, I told myself. You can find out stuff that way. Like a detective.
Yeah, but I wasn’t one, so I wasn’t sure how far that would get me. But I tried anyway.
The room I was in was actually pretty boring - it was sterile and white, like a hospital room. There was a single window, off to the side, barely big enough for someone to squeeze through. All I could see were decorative trees, though, so that wasn’t much help. I noticed a Health Bot - a large, cylindrical robot the size of a person that monitored my vitals and condition - sitting to my right. It replaced the need for clunky monitors and could alert the nearest doctor if I was in any kind of danger and maintain my health until said doctor arrived.
There was nothing much besides a small table with a slew of papers and some medical supplies sat right next to the bed. So, nothing that exciting that would give any clue to where I was.
Then, I noticed a newspaper - and on it, an article about a protest.
If I raised my head up - causing the tingly feeling to return, which made me wince in pain - I could see the headline of an article:

Protestors Demand the Cancellation of Project S - Will the Scientists Bend?

Before I could continue reading, the door swung open. In stepped five people: the lady from earlier, now twitching excitedly; an imposing middle-aged man with graying hair whose face radiated authority; a woman of about forty who looked like she was terrified of me, not daring to meet my eyes; and two kids my age, a girl and a boy, who looked at me with curiosity and nervousness.
“You left him alone in here?” the man said, rushing over to me. “He ends up being the only survivor, and you leave him alone?!”
“Don’t worry,” I said quickly, “I’m fine.”
The man looked me up and down. “I have news for you.”
“What news?” I asked, staring the man in the eyes. I would not, not, not be afraid of him. Nope.
“What if you were told you’ve been living a dream?” he said suddenly. I caught a wince from the nervous woman in the corner of my eyes.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know how to.
“You’re part of something big, Asher.” How did he know my name? “An experiment we’ve been running, a psychological one. An experiment that simulates life as we know it, where we can carefully watch mental behavior under carefully calculated amounts of stress and influence.”
What was he saying?!
“Asher, life as you’ve known it up to this point has been part of a simulation and has been generated by our scientists and powerful AI.”
The tingly feeling that had been lingering in the background seized me in full force. I barely registered the Health Bot taking a syringe from its inner compartments and jabbed it into me, silencing the pain and sending me spinning into darkness.

General critique: 304/300 words

Critique by @perhapslucy for @unhinged_musings !

This is a very well written story! I thought that the storyline was interesting and exciting, and the way you wrote in the humor helped to add some comic relief to the things going on in the plot. I added a few small critiques in certain parts of the story- they should be in bold! Don’t worry about using any of them if you don’t agree- a lot of the critiques I added are synonyms of certain words that you used multiple times and things that I, personally, would do if I were the author. That being said, I hope some of them helped out!

Here are some more general critiques:

- A few things seem to get glossed over very quickly, but I understand that it is a shorter story. However, the beginning of the story (the “abyss” part) was very interesting, and it would work if it were a bit longer! The frantic thoughts and confusion were well-written, and it would be nice to see that last for another paragraph or two.

- Some of the tenses in the last paragraph seem to be a bit off- I attempted to correct them with the bolded words! I think there was just some mix up, and technically it would work either way, but I tried to make it sound a bit cleaner. Of course, everything is up to you!

- This is less of a critique but more of a comment- you had very good character description during the part where you are describing the different people entering the room! I just wanted to tell you that that was very well done. Keep up the good work!

Overall, awesome job! You are a great writer, and I really enjoyed reading through your story as well as critiquing it. I hope that some of this was helpful!



Chapter One of “Project S”

A terrible pain wrenched through me. The pain was as if like my head was being ripped off.
I felt myself collapsing to the ground,but I wasn’t really conscious anymore. I was somewhere in between. In between consciousness and… what? What was happening to me? The ripping pain continued, and the damp brick wall in front in front of me flickered in and out of sight before
everything
went
black.

I was in darkness for a while. Well, at least, what seemed like a while. You never know how long “a while” is when you’re floating in a jet black, endless abyss. “A while” could be a thousand years. “A while” could justbe five minutes you overdramatized. I really wasn’t sure how long “a while” was in a place that was probably outside of the space-time continuum- a continuum that I really loved and would like to get back to.
I didn’t know if my eyes were open, or I if I was even floating. All spacial awareness was gone, consumed by darkness and a feeling of lightheadedness.
I was alone with my thoughts, which wasn’t that entertaining. I pointlessly tried to figure out what had just happened, and tried to stay at the illogical conclusion that I’d simply passed out. Yep. Passed out in the middle of a perfectly fine day, with absolutely nothing wrong.
Yeah, that definitely wasn’t it.
I kept going in circles, over and over again, going through idea after idea: heart attack, panic attack, some other attack… What about the weird ripping pain, then? How would I explain that?
I wish I had hands so I could pull my hair out.
I began to feel tingly all over- meaning, I could feel my body again, thankfully. But it was that painful feeling that came when your feet started waking up again after sitting in criss-cross applesauce too long. I gritted my teeth, trying not to scream.
“Asher?” a voice said.
I felt something. A bed. I was lying on a bed. I opened my eyes slowly, squinting at the harsh glow from a fluorescent light above me.
“Asher?” the voice repeated.
I groaned, raising a hand to my eyes and flexing my fingers as the tingly feeling faded ever-so-slowly away. “Asher…” I mumbled, only half conscious
“You’re awake!” I identified the voice as female. It was high and trilling, and reminded me of…
Of…
What?
I forced myself, despite the blaring light, to look at the carrier of this voice. She had short, dark brown hair in a pixie cut and silver earrings. She wore a bulky, white lab coat with a name tag that read “Assistant Dr. Hayes”. It said something else below that, but I couldn’t make it out.
“I need to tell the others you’re not dead!” she cried and raced out of the room. I watched my only possible source of information leave me.
No, just look around, I told myself. You can find out stuff that way. Like a detective.
Yeah, but I wasn’t one, so I wasn’t sure how far that would get me. I tried anyway.
The room I was in was actually pretty boring - it was sterile and white, like a hospital room. There was a single window, off to the side, barely big enough for someone to squeeze through. All I could see were decorative trees, though, so that wasn’t much help. I noticed a Health Bot - a large, cylindrical robot the size of a person that monitored my vitals and condition - sitting to my right. It replaced the need for clunky monitors and could alert the nearest doctor if I was in any kind of danger and could maintain my health until said doctor arrived.
There was nothing much else besides a small table with a slew of papers and some medical supplies right next to the bed. So, nothing that exciting that would give any clue to where I was.
Then, I noticed a newspaper - and on it, an article about a protest.
If I raised my head up- causing the tingly feeling to return, which made me wince in pain- I could see the headline of an article:

Protestors Demand the Cancellation of Project S - Will the Scientists Bend?

Before I could continue reading, the door swung open. In stepped five people: the lady from earlier, now twitching excitedly; an imposing middle-aged man with graying hair whose face radiated authority; a woman of about forty who looked like she was terrified of me, not daring to meet my eyes; and two kids my age, a girl and a boy, who looked at me with curiosity and nervousness.
“You left him alone in here?” the man said, rushing over to me. “He ends up being the only survivor, and you leave him alone?!”
“Don’t worry,” I said quickly, “I’m fine.”
The man looked me up and down. “I have news for you.”
“What news?” I asked, staring the man in the eyes. I would not, not, not be afraid of him. Nope.
“What if you were told you’ve been living a dream?” he said suddenly, his face calm. I caught a wince from the nervous woman in the corner of my eyes.
I didn’t respond. I didn’t know how to.
“You’re part of something big, Asher.” How did he know my name? “An experiment we’ve been running, a psychological one. An experiment that simulates life as we know it, where we can carefully watch mental behavior under carefully calculated amounts of stress and influence.”
What was he talking about?!
“Asher, life as you’ve known it up to this point has been part of a simulation and has been generated by our scientists and our powerful AI.”
The tingly feeling that had been lingering in the background seized me in full force. I barely registered anything as the Health Bot took a syringe from its inner compartments and jabbed it into me, silencing the pain and sending me spinning into darkness.

WEEKLY #3 – selfcare guys!!

part 1 //
– no proof!!
I found some confusing and not very helpful but I did like the pomodoro although I was vibing with my science homework and then after the break I lost motivation to continue haha because I wanted to keep doing the break. Maybe if I have a not very distracting break it will work better.

part 2 //
–
person ++ i would like a timed dare, preferably not too long since i am going to have dinner and should go to sleep shortly afterwards :0
me ## ooh ok so find a book and flip to a page and whatever the page number is, is how long you have to run around your living space (in seconds) and if you don't make it in time, take an extra sip of water but just take one if you do it on time

person ++ # dare please! max time half an hour please
me ## play your favorite song and if you miss 10-20 words, do some hw – if you miss 1-9 words, do a quick workout or some stretches – if you miss 21+ then work on the daily or a comp entry (if you are entering) – and if you get 0 wrong, first off congo and secondly treat yourself and take a break for 5-10 minutes

person ++ looking for a writing dare again nothing plot specific, since i'm working on my writing comp entry :3
me ## ooh ok take a drink of water and hold it while watching some try not to laugh videos!! if you make it the whole time, swallow obviously and write for as long as the video is, and if you don't make it, write for as long as you did

part 3 //
– 255 words for writing at the end

… water intake :: ahh still needs some work but I'm getting better

… sleep :: I went to bed an hour early one day!! And I didn't go to bed late at all. (I was on a streak of being late).

… listen to music :: taylor swift obviously, I should do this more!!

… take breaks :: I could do better, I normally just went on my phone or did chores for my breaks. I should do something more relaxing like reading or crafting.

… spread affection :: I was texting a guy and I won't say much else. I was just being supportive. I felt good about it.

_____ why you should drink a good amount of water every day ____

You should drink a good balance of water every day because it's just plain old good for you. If you are worried about asking to use the restroom in class or missing something for a few minutes, don't. EVERYBODY does it. It's natural human nature and you will barely miss a thing. If the teacher says no, ask why. Water is also very good for your mental health because, and most people don't think of this, is that it makes you feel good and fresh. Taking a nice cold sip of water is a good thirty second break that can help you think. It may not be scientifically proven and that means it might not work for you. Yet, don't worry! There are plenty of physical benefits. It can help clear you senses and your pores. It can actually clear the dirt and junk food out of your system and make you glow. If you add some fruit or vegetables, those also make it taste good and give you other benefits. Also, if you aren't drinking your eight cups per day, there are some possible ways to help. You can find what motivates you to drink more. Carry your water bottle around maybe, or set it ON the desk at school to you are reminded of it. Maybe get a clear one with a hours sticker on it to track how much you drink per hour (look it up). There are many different reasons why and how you can drink more water. Just do it!


YAY I FINALLY GOT A WEEKLY DONE ON TIME!! soooo +1500 points for folklore <3

stuff for the critiquitaire

- okay okay quick description: so there’s this girl who has this power that when she touches a living thing it d!es. she was outcasted and isolated in the forest for her own safety, but then this guy came and she felt loved so she trusted him a lot and it turned kind of into an obsessive relationship for her, but the guy didn’t really love her and wanted to use her for her power as a weapon, so he put her in this cage thingy which is what the story is told from atm
- this is a draft for the writing comp!

I thought I could trust him, but now nothing will ever be the same.

He tricked me, forced me to let down my guard, and coaxed my naïve spirit to love him. My heart still thunders in my chest while I relive the gentleness he’d given me, the attention and care I’d yearned for all these years.

He showed me thoughts of a new life, somewhere where we could be safe. A life with riches and beauty, a new home. It was just within reach, and he knew I wanted it. That was where it all went wrong.

Limerence filled me, temptation taking over, for I thought that he truly cared. I was driven by pure folly, madness, and obsession, with something that I knew I could never have. Something I now know wasn’t real.

My foolish credulity caused me to see things that weren’t there, skipping over the blanks and stuff (something else here, I can’t think of the word)

I still recall how his eyes glinted in the light, his smile sweet and endearing. In a blink of an eye, he was one of Them. The people who viewed me with a different mind. One of destruction.

He showed me who I truly was: a helpless girl, a wild animal. Something dangerous. Something that could never be controlled.

But now I lay here caged, hands shackled, desperately awaiting the sweet voice to lift away my pain, the voice that will never come. My voice is gone, and my eyes water as I struggle in my cell.

Even though he can control me now, I can still detect fear in his eyes when he looks at me.

Because he knows what I can do. Even a simple touch brings death to all living things. Plants wither and die. Animals collapse on the floor. Even a human would shrivel into a husk.

They call me Poison Ivy because my touch brings red rashes and death. (This is out of place, I can’t figure out how to explain it)

(I don't know how to end it, could you help me with it please?)

English homework persuasive essay on… goats?
(419 words)
English homework final draft- FINAL
If you could save one species from extinction, what species would it be? For me, the mist logical answer is goats, because of two reasons: production and labor.
To elaborate on the former, goats are dairy animals, and can produce up to 11.3 liters of milk a day, a similar amount to what cows produce, but from a smaller animal. How impressive is that?
But what about protein? Goat’s meat, while not believed to be a common alternative to cow’s meat, is actually consumed by over 60% of the global population. But not only is goat’s meat a delicious delicacy, it is more ethical than chicken, cow, or pig meat. This s because goats are browsers not grazers and therefore have a much smaller impact on land than other animals – think of the rainforests being demolished for more grazing land, it doesn’t have to be so!
Oh, and did I mention the health benefits? Goat’s meat has numerous nutrients vital to growth and development, an is rich in protein that helps with maintaining muscular health.
What will happen with yarn and wool? Simple, goats will continue to produce it as they have done for centuries. In fact, cashmere is made from the fibers of changpa goats, and it has been used to make yarn, textiles and clothing for generations. Another example of wool being made from goats is mohair, which is made from angora goats and is referred to as the diamond wool, due to its shining nature. Goat hair has been spun into wool for many years, and it will continue to be for many more to come, meaning the lack of sheep will not cause any negative impacts on the production of wool.
Then there’s the matter of labor and workload. 98% of labor is done by machinery, and will only increase over time, but as for the remaining 12% goats are a more than capable candidate. With their small but nimble frame goats are able to squeeze into tight, steep spaces, their ability to see all four legs (something horses can’t do) and their supreme strength, allowing them to carry up to 30 times more than their bodyweight; goats would be just as, if not more, effective than horses, and are great for the diminishing requirement for work animals.
In conclusion goats are strong, nutritious and useful animals, that will allow humans not just to survive, but to thrive in desperate conditions, such as all animals being extinct apart from one.

My entry for the critiquitaire—
It’s 1205 words though you can only read/critique a portion if it’s too much!
(I co-wrote this with my sister, @violent-measures )

It took me a long while to fall asleep that night. I stared up into the void above my head and tried to calm my racing thoughts.
But all I could hear was the fury in Vanna’s voice as she recalled the time when Damian had stolen her family from her.
All I could see was Hektor’s face, twisted in anger.
His scar, blazing across his face. The memory of fire burned into his skin. It burned in my mind, a relentless flame. Until I could almost hear the screams of ghosts.

And I was seven years old again, watching torches flicker against the cool blackness of the night sky.
I had been sitting in my room, staring wide-eyed out the window. My hand pressing onto the cold glass just to get the smallest bit closer. Yearning to understand why the breaths of flame marched steadily towards the palace. Why the shouts continued to grow in volume until the people yelled with one voice.
When they showed no signs of leaving, I turned away from the window. I had to find Aunt Selene. She would know what was happening.
Raised voices paved the way to the darkened throne room. A single torch was lit in the sconce directly behind the throne, casting a flickering glow that caused Father’s shadow to fall over my aunt’s kneeling form. I hung back, my hand resting on the edge of the wide doorframe, peeking into the throne room from the shadows of the corridor beyond.
“Your Majesty, they’re right. How could you just abandon them to this plague? Something needs to be done. You’re their king.”
A pause. I wasn’t sure what a plague was, but the way Aunt Selene said it didn’t sound good. Like some sort of fairy-tale monster.
“It’s a peaceful protest, brother. Just leave them be,” Aunt Selene pleaded.
Father scoffed. “Peaceful or not, what did our good father always say? Protest is the first step towards rebellion. Like any weed, you have to destroy it before it has a chance to take root.”
Something like a laugh, but tinged black from her next words. “I knew you were evil, but this is another level of depravity.”
“Watch your mouth,” he snapped, standing and stepping closer to her.
Selene flinched away from his hand, which was raised in a fist. Was he going to hit her? My grip tightened on the doorframe as a cold feeling whispered down my back. But no, he dropped his arm to his side, though it was still curled into a fist.
“I’m done arguing about this. It’s starting to seem like you’ve forgotten which of us sits on this throne. So unless you want another night in the dungeon, you can sit back and watch,” Father spat and strode out of the throne room, his robe flaring behind him as he stalked through the doorway, thrusting across the faint torchlight like a black cloud drifting over the moon.
I jerked away.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
I steadied myself on the wall.
“I—I saw the people outside. I just wanted to know what was happening,” I whispered.
“Speak up, girl,” Father said.
I stared up at him, into his dark eyes and red hair, which was illuminated in the torchlight, so it almost looked like fire itself.
“I wanted to know why there are so many people with torches outside.”
Father’s face broke into a smile. “Finally taking some initiative. That’s good.”
With his words, my back straightened. I would have smiled, but then I saw Aunt Selene, who had followed him out of the throne room.
She wore an expression of—well, I wasn’t sure what it was. But she was frowning, mouth closed in a firm line. Her eyes were wide, searching. Staring at Father’s back. Father’s fire showed in his hair, but Aunt Selene’s always burned in her amber-brown eyes.
I dropped my gaze.
“Come here, Calypso,” Father told me, turning and walking down the long hall.
Before obeying, I took one last look at my aunt. She hung back, her hands covering her face. Unsettled, I faced forward once more, following Father’s shadowy form down the corridor. Our footsteps echoed eerily, and I found myself falling in time with the chanting that still carried on outside.
The air beyond the palace walls was cold and harsh, choked with smoke.
“You!” the people yelled together, “caused this!”
As we drew near to the gates, the fire burned brighter and clearer. I saw that the group was made up of adults. No children. The people’s faces were dirty and twisted in anger.
Even more startling was the state of their clothes. Torn, patched and fraying, with a thick layer of grime on the hems of the women’s dresses.
I recoiled, but Father noticed and dragged me closer.
His grip on my arm was firm, unyielding. Father kneeled to look at me straight on. His eyebrows drew a harsh line over his dark eyes.
“Watch,” he growled. “This is how a throne is protected.”
I nodded shakily. Everything was wrong. Veiled in a thick layer of smoke. But it didn’t cover up the venom in Father’s voice. It didn’t cover up the way the people fell silent as he stood. It didn’t cover up the way my heart convulsed in my chest, almost falling still. The tightness didn’t leave, only growing stronger until I thought I might die from the feeling.
Before, I’d been so preoccupied with the torchbearers that I hadn’t noticed the Specters standing on either side of the gate. More were gathered behind; more than I’d ever seen in one place before.
Father began barking orders at his soldiers.
I’d seen them many times patrolling the palace and guarding the entrances. They were our protectors. But all I could see now were the long, wickedly sharp spears. The additional blades at their waists. The black masks, hiding any emotion.
“What are you doing just standing there?” Father screeched.
“Awaiting orders, Your Majesty,” one said with a respectful bow.
It almost seemed as if the Specters hadn’t noticed the people outside the grounds.
Those people now watched intently. Some backed away from the metal bars while others came closer.
Waiting.
“I’m done waiting,” Father spat. “Kill them. This instant.”
“All of them, sir?” another Specter asked hesitantly.
“Yes, all of them!” he screamed, face growing red. “NOW!”
I pulled away from Father and covered my ears with shaking hands.
The gates opened, and fire poured out.

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the blaze in my mind.
Curling up on my cot, I willed myself to fall asleep. But the blissful escape of unconsciousness never came to me easily, and tonight was no different.
All I could hear was Damian’s scream, sentencing hundreds to death. All I could see was the darkness in his eyes. I could feel that same darkness in the air, crushing me, suffocating like smoke.
Inhaling sharply, trying to get air in my lungs, I pressed a fist to my mouth and squeezed my eyes closed more tightly.
Surrounded by darkness and the faint, distant shadows of flame, I swore that I would be free of my father someday.

Lost Cat

SWC Writing Competition Entry

I lie on the floor, head bent over a piece of cardboard, drawing shaky lines with a black marker. The only light in the room comes from the window that opens into a glowing sky full of pale clouds. These days, clouded and misty, used to be my favorite. Luna and I would go into the garden and play until the clouds brought with them the ever-so-exciting blessing of rain, and we’d dance and get soaked and tiptoe back into the house and dry ourselves off before my parents caught us. I am stiff with focus, overwhelmed by denial. She’s gone. The world took her from me.

I try to draw her. But the rough cardboard and the black marker can’t do her justice. I can’t put onto paper the softness of her fur, her beautiful gold and brown stripes, her caring yellow eyes, soft purr… I can’t.

I didn’t eat breakfast. This morning, my dad helped me put up a few of my posters to convince me to eat lunch. It’s almost lunchtime. I’m not hungry.

I hear my parents arguing in low tones in the kitchen. I pick up on a few words.

“…not good for Ellis.”

“He’s only four years old, let him…”

“Something is wrong with him.”

“He just needs time. He’ll get over it.”

“He needs professional help.”

Silence.

“The cat is…” My mother says a word I don’t understand. “…imaginary, Matt.”

I shut out their voices.

Luna is mine. My beautiful kitty. It doesn’t matter that no one else can see her. I can, and I am her friend, and that is all that matters. She needs me. Where has she gone?

Large, fat tears roll down my cheeks and splat onto the cardboard. I pick up the drawing and hug it to me. It feels nothing like Luna. Luna always makes me feel better. The cardboard is hard and stiff. As I have become.

My parents talk some more. I hear the words “adopt”, “plenty”, “strays”, “normal”, “fine”. I’m not sure what’s going on. I don’t really care. I just want Luna back.

Just then, I hear the faintest sound from upstairs. A sweet, sad “meow”.

In a sudden burst of hope, I drop my marker, leaving a long, vertical streak of black. I quickly make the fix, turning it into an extension of Luna’s tail, and then leap up the stairs two at a time. It’s her. I heard her. I try to convince myself.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” I whisper. “Luna…” Every closet in the house opens to greet me as I dig for the telltale softness of cat fur among the piles of clothes and cardboard boxes. “…come, kitty…” I crawl under every bed, looking for prints in the dust. “…Luna…” I open every drawer in every shelf in every room. No corner of the upper floor is left unchecked. When I’m done, I check the lower floor.

I find no sign of her. Just that lonely “meow”.

I have repeated this routine every day since she disappeared.

“Ellis?”

It's my dad's voice. I don't respond. I'm busy.

He pokes his head into the living room. I pause while double-checking behind the TV to look at him.

“Hey, kid.” he says softly. “It’s time for lunch.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Salad?”

“I’m not hungry, dad.”

“Wide noodles?”

“I don’t feel like eating.”

“Grilled cheese sandwiches?”

My resolve cracks. “Okay. Can you help me put up the rest of my posters?”

He pauses. “I’ll have to see what your mother thinks about that.”

I eat a sandwich. Then I prod my parents until they finally seem on the verge of caving. They have a hushed conversation. “What harm can it do?” I hear my dad saying. My mom sighs.

My dad beckons me to the door. I gather my posters and sprint toward him.

“Three posters, all right?” he says.

I frown. “But I made four. What are we going to do with the last one?”

“Okay, okay. Just don’t tell your mother.”

I put two of them up in my garden in hopes that the animals will see them and alert me if Luna ever comes around. She always loved the garden.
My dad is hesitant, but he lets me put one up in the neighborhood. I hug the last one to my chest. “Can we put this on the street? Where cars can see it?”

Another long sigh from my dad. He looks at my poster. The crude, plain drawing of Luna. The “LOST CAT” written in wobbly capitals across the top. For a second it seems like he’s going to say something, but he decides against it. He gives the poster back to me and squeezes my shoulders. “Okay, kid.”

There is a large tree next to the main road. There are tens of hundreds of old staples that are embedded in the bark, the information they held long gone and ripped away, leaving only the remnants of multicolored papers and posters. I put my own poster up to the tree so that it faces the street. My dad presses our stapler to it and forces down the mechanism. I hear a click. He does this again and again and again, pinning the poster to the bark. His brow is furrowed, and his eyes glisten.

“I think that’s enough.” I say.

My dad abruptly stops. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, kid.” His expression is cloudy and gray, like the sky. It starts to drizzle.

The two of us head home.

Over the next few days, I keep searching for Luna. She loves my neighborhood, with all its cozy houses, pastel fences, overgrown gardens… she would never stray far. I see a few strays, all of which send a bolt of excitement into my heart, and then a wave of disappointment when I realize they aren’t her. My dad keeps an eye on me throughout the process, but there’s distance between us. We don’t talk, except when he reminds me that we should go home soon.

Each time, we walk home together. Today we’re just in time before a sheet of rain falls over the city. Through my window, the puddles on the road reflect the sky. Huge, heavy raindrops create ripples in the clouds.

I take off my jacket and lie on my bed, staring sullenly at the ceiling.

I hear a “meow”.

I sit straight up in my bed, my eyes scouring the room for the source. Then I see her. A cat, tentatively tiptoeing into my room through the cracked-open door. I’m out of bed and kneeling next to her in a blink. She is wet and shivering, unlike I’ve ever seen her before, but her yellow-green eyes stare up at me with the unmistakable essence of trust. I hug her to me.

“Oh, kitty, what happened to you?” Hot tears roll down my cheeks, pale from the cold. I force my eyes open, and I take her in. Her brown-and-gold fur is matted and tangled. My heart breaks and is mended all at once. “I’ll help you out. I'm here for you."

Gradually, the cat stops shivering. She blinks softly at me.

“I’ve missed you, Luna. I really have.”

Author's Note: Some children have imaginary friends. These friends can be animals, as is the case here with Luna and Ellis. This is an extreme case, I would think, and would likely baffle most parents, who would pass it off as a game of make-believe. It is some form of that, but it occurs in the subconscious so it would likely have a greater effect on children. I'd think it would wear off eventually. There is an open ending as to whether Luna truly returned to Ellis or whether it was an actual cat, leaving some room for interpretation. I'd hope it elicits some kind of response from you, whatever it may be.

Part one:
Private, here’s my result for the matrix and Pomodoro technique!
Result : I was pretty happy, I finished my preparation for science and I wasn’t feeling stressed or pressured at the end. I remembered everything and was feeling proud of myself for once.


Part two: (323 words)
My original comment :

Lately, i’ve been working on my social skills, seeing I only have really toxic and mean friends that make me feel bad about myself. I don’t have regular social skills, and I cant keep a conversation going, I try being a beaming, positive person to be around, and it’s made me feel much better about myself seeing how much kindness I attract this way! Results however, are pretty invisible. I’ve not got many friends, and I feel grumpier by the day, I need some encouragement to keep trying to improve my health, and become a more socially active person, and make some friends

Replies (I cropped to the ‘encouragement’ rather than personal experience because it’s really long sob

you got this! Remember to be happy, if you love food don’t stop it completely, and you got this! So much progress in such less time is unbelievable <3 you’ll definitely be a happy, healthy person <3 Keep going, don’t give up. I know you’re done with the weekly but I couldn’t resist the urge to comment YOU GOT THISSS <3 YOU’VE MADE IT SO FAR, YOU SHOULD BE SO PROUD <3 no matter what, don’t give up, as long as you feel happy <33333

I know exactly how this feels, don’t force yourself to do something, and maybe try to do a bit everyday if you have time. If you have any sudden bursts of motivation, remember to use it, and work on the weekly, and do it because you love it, it’s about self care, after all! You got this, I believe in you <3

Twi, you got this! You’re a really talented writer, and I daresay you’re gonna do really well in your math Olympiad too <3 remember to take breaks, and try your best to prepare! I’m also preparing for exams, and it’s pretty hard sometimes to find the motivation, but you got this!

Part 3
Drinking water
Working out

Persuasion
Self care is really important, while it may not be too intimate, such as skin care routines and regular relaxation sessions or therapy, self care can be done in many ways, and it is really beneficial for your mental and physical health! I do not have the time or motivation for daily self care, and I used to think self care was limited to hygiene or being beautiful, it could come in many ways. Such as drinking water, this will make you feel really refreshed and give you motivation to do your work. Hydrating yourself is really important, it benefits your body a lot, after all, your body plays a very important role and can affect your mental health greatly, too. Another thing to understand is that self care for your body is not limited to beauty, it can also be workout to keep you healthy! I started working out a while ago, nothing too hard or tiring, just some yoga and stretching every week or so. It helps me a lot, and I feel much more relaxed after working out every week, since I know that this will keep my body healthy, and I need not stress about this too much. Having confidence in your body and knowing that you are mentally and physically healthy opens up more time for you to focus on more important things in your life, and gives you much more time to devote to activities you feel like doing.

Mental and physical health is really important, I sometimes use books as a mean for me to escape reality and just do something in a world that had been laid out for me in words, each and every alphabet can grasp me as my eyes just watch the imaginary world and myself in it twirl through my brain. I like to imagine myself, like I am in a setting that is so different from my own world, with people with such beautiful personalities, or maybe even someone evil going along with me to shape a story so different and more exotic than my boring life in usual. I really love being able to find a quiet spot everyday, and to escape all the stress I have by putting it aside for even 5 minutes to read, even if I am stressing in the world i'm imagining. Maybe i'm in a battle, the stress is in me but I know that my story gets more interesting, and no negative thoughts penetrate my brain as I zoom around in the world that the writer created, it helps my mental health so much and I feel so good, while reading isn't the best for everyone, it definitely is for me.

Another thing I love doing is exercise, very intimate exercise. While it is really really tiring, and I can barely walk after exercising, I really love a nice workout, or dance, to any musing that I feel like. I sometimes just do my dances secretly in my room, and it has helped my mental and physical health greatly, I keep fit and I feel happy with myself and what i'm doing. Dancing helps me show what i'm feeling through coordinated movements, whether it's a slow or energetic dance, I enjoy it more than anything.
I really hope my techniques are helpful! while they may not be what helps you, I really hope you find your own techniques!

I was pretty lazy, until I started to take care of myself more. It did not affect me too much at the start, but I noticed some positive changes in my life, I feel even a minute of self care is really important <3

Helo this is Icy's swc writing for Hi fi

Daily- Critiquitaire
Light flooded the room. Everly rose from her bed, and glanced at the clock. Groaning, she got dressed and was about to slip out the door when-
“Everly! Eat properly. Don't leave now.” Her mother scolded, making the girl sit at the table. “But mother, I'm late for work! The inn opens in five minutes,” Everly protested. “No can do. Finish up eating, then leave.” Begrudgingly, she gobbled the food on her plate under the watchful eye of her mother. Everly ran to the door, and banged it shut. Her mother sighed.

“That girl will never change.”

Everly stepped into the inn, mumbling an apology to the indignant owner. “Everly, You've been late for the past two days. If you don't come on time tomorrow, I'll fire you.”
“I'm sorry, okay? My alarm clock isn't working.”
“I'll let you off for now, Everly. I don't want to fire you, you're a good girl.”
Nodding, Everly slipped into the reception desk. A slim blonde woman was waiting. She glared disapprovingly at her.
“Apologies for wasting your valuable time, Ma'am. Have you already booked your stay via letter and are waiting to check in or are you yet to book it?” Everly asked, picking up her pencil.
“I've made a reservation via letter under the name Violet Chisholm.” She replied, pushing her curls into place.
“Ah, yes. Here's your key.” Everly dropped a rusty key into her waiting palm. With a slight ‘hmph’, she left. And so the regular work day began. Little did Everly know, chaos was just waiting at the door.



Everly dumped her coat on the rack as she brushed the snow from her hair. “Mother, I'm back,” She yelled, unscrewing the cookie jar. She shoved a chocolate chip cookie into her mouth, relaxing on the sofa. “Everly, please do the laundry.” Her mother entered the kitchen-*-living room, with a pile of utensils. Everly nodded, and leapt to her feet. After her chores were done, Everly refused her dinner and went straight to bed. Little did she know that the following night would change everything.

“Everly. Wake up” Her mother shook her awake, a note of panic in her voice. Everly woke, and saw her mother's worried face. “What's wrong-” She asked, but was cut off by her mother. “Dragons.” She answered gravely strapping a bag to her back. “We're going to the safety shelter. There's a female dragon who's setting everything on fire.” Confused and now scared, Everly stepped out the door, clasping her mother's hand. She pulled her mother closer to the trees, to avoid being spot. A humongous roar resounded through the villages. People screamed. Everly suppressed her own scream when she came across a charred body. “What is it?” Her mother asked, shaking. “It's probably a burnt tree branch,” she lied, as she led her along the way. Fire was merciless that night. It destroyed everything in its path. All Everly could hear and see were the leaping flames as they rose from the ground and smoke drifted into the sky. Her mother hobbled behind her. Blood pounding in her ears, Everly saw people climbing into an underground bunker. “C'mon, Mother. We're nearly there.” With whatever energy was left, Everly reached till the bunker and climbed in, helping her mother.


Critique:
Overall, It was a fairly enjoyable piece, but the wording felt off. The plotline was amazing, but I feel like the piece could be improved by changing the wording.
'The sky was glowing positively' That felt wrong. It would be better to specify a shade, like ‘the sky glowed amber’ .
'Oh, it really was' Also just seemed weird. It could rephrased or just removed entirely. It lacks in description as well. You could've said something abt the armour as she's a soldier.
Also, there are a lot of ands in this sentence. ‘ Her father died and she merely laughed and didn’t even attend his funeral. Her sister lost all her bones and she broke them more.’ You could've used other conjunctions such as ‘ Her father died, but she merely laughed, not caring to attend his funeral. Her sister lost all her bones, but she broke them more.’
' She was all I never wanted to see. ‘ could also be rephrased as ’She was my sole nightmare, something I wished with all my heart that I could forget.'
Also, instead of this , ‘looking at her cackle with that same cruelty of hers that she had always shown’
you could've said ‘as she cackled with that cruelty of hers that she’d always possessed.
'She tightened her hug' could be said as she ‘tightened the hug’
'her words would echo in my head can be rephrased. ‘her words would echo in my soul’

The rest was really great! I would love to read a part 2!

Metaphors daily:
The blistering summer heat met cold metal of armor. It was so hot that most streets were closed, people preferring to stay in the cool shade of their homes as they sipped on lemonade. But that was luxury for a soldier. Despite the summer heat, soldiers clad in their metal armor dueled, threw their freshly polished axes at bright red targets, shot arrows, and practiced swordplay. Sweat dripped down the neck of a soldier, barely eighteen, as she circled carefully around her opponent. He was veteran, with forty years of rough experience on the battlefield. Cold steel of the swords met as they clashed. Gritting her teeth, the young girl attempted to disarm her opponent. Cleverly thwarting her attack, he openly struck at her. Rolling in the dirt, the girl lashed out her sword as both fought hard, and finally, the veteran's broad blade left his hand and crashed to the ground. She had won.

A few minutes later, Leth basked in the praises of other soldiers, as she carefully removed her armour. Training was done for the day, and they were all heading to their homes for a well deserved lunch. Leth smiled as yet another veteran gruffly congratulated her on her victory. Even though she was happy for her victory, she couldn't help but feel a slight resentment as her friend, who had recently been promoted to a general thanks to his courage in a previous war. All she wanted was some recognition from a king, and hefty promotion, of course. As she removed the last of her armor, a small servant came up to her. “T-the k-king r-re-requests your presence.” She stuttered,“He says that you are to meet him in the throne room.”

As Leth stood nervously in the middle of the throne room, The king eyed her thin frame. “Am I to believe it is this girl who beat you?” He asked the veteran who stood next to him. “Yes, Your majesty. Her swordsmanship was impeccable.”

“Very well. Then, young soldier, I have a favor to ask of you. Far away from here, there's a land to the north of our nation. Freezing winds blow there, but a small ray of light lies in a dank cave of those lands. It is a lantern. Not any lantern. It is a lantern that represents honor. Ages ago, the founders of this kingdom hid a lantern in the cold regions of the north. Anyone who could reach there and bring back the lantern, they declared, would understand their magical methods of regeneration and surgery. In our advanced times, their old knowledge shall be of great use. I want you to get that lantern of honor.”

Leth stood there, his words resounding in her head as her heart pumped with excitement. She bowed.
“I will, Your majesty.”

Continue a preexisting piece: daily
As Leth reached home after training, her mother was preparing dinner. Her father wasn't home yet, and her two twin brothers tumbled on the carpet. “How was training today, love?” Her mother asked, violently chopping cucumbers. “Today-” she began, before her brother interrupted her. “Sis! Tell us a story about your work!” He yelled, jumping on the couch. “Jim! No jumping on the couch.” Their mother yelled. Jim sat down. “Wait a moment. Mother, today the king asked me to meet him. I defeated Jem today in swordplay. He told me to get the lantern of honor from the cold lands.” Her mother stopped cutting, and came into the living room. “Really?! When does he expect you to do this?” Leth shrugged. “Jem said I'd need some special training to survive there. He said that if I learnt fast, I should be ready to leave in a month.” Her mother smiled. “I'm so proud of you, Leth. This is a great honor for our family. Wait till your father hears this. He'll jump with joy.” Leth hugged her mother. “Thanks, mother.”

The next day, Leth begun her training. Firstly, Jem told her she'd need to start off for the cold lands in a week. She needed to get used to the climate, he said. He also mentioned something about other kingdoms trying to find about the lantern. They didn't have a head start like them, so they were far from competing with her.

Even though he said that, Leth couldn't help but feel that they knew more than they were letting on. She hid her worry, and concentrated on her training.

A few days later as she relaxed on the couch, Leth thought of the recent developments in her life. She appreciated them, but still.. It was a dangerous job. “Leth? Dinner's ready!” Her mother announced.





Daily for 25th november. Inspiration from a picture. 459 words.

“Edge, I don't like it here.” Derah protested, anxiously glancing behind her. “Ugh, Princess Derah. Are you really afraid of the woods? And to think you're expected to rule the kingdom when you're older,” Edge retorted. “Hurry up.” Derah tripped over a branch. Edge helped her up. “C'mon, We're almost there.” Derah nodded, focusing on the bright light of her lantern. “I told you it was best you left your jewelry behind. If you loose as much as one chime, my mother will kill me.” She glared at her. Derah sighed, eyeing her necklace. “How much more, Edge?” Derah asked. Edge didn't reply. She covered Derah's mouth with her hand. “Listen.” She whispered. “Hear that soft chiming? That's the Elver flower glitter. We're there.” Edge walked through the brambles.

Derah gasped. It was breathtaking. Even prettier than the palace gardens. The trees swayed softly, dotted with shimmering blue flowerss. The dark leaves hung loosely from the branches. Thorny vines with red flowers surrounded the area. She ran her hand over the gnarled, thick trunk of the tree. Edge stopped her. “Don't come any further.” Here's where the swamp actually starts. Edge smoothed her blonde hair, her dark eyes scanning the area. Ahead was a dilapidated stone wall, and a staircase leading up to it. “There it is. The circle of magic.” Edge declared, eyes shining. Derah stared at Edge's soiled dress. “Your dress is so dirty,” She remarked.

“Not all of us are patrons of cleanliness, your highness.”

“It's basic hygiene.”

“In case you didn't notice, Your Majesty, we are in the middle of a forest. A soiled dress is unavoidable.” Edge replied smoothly. Derah kept silent. She had an equally cutting reply at hand, but, knowing Edge, this could turn into a full blown argument.“It's muddy here, Princess Derah. You'll have to dirty your dress.” Edge smirked. Derah sighed. She was right. “Thankfully, Princess, Here's where our journey for today ends. It'll be 3 in the morning in five minutes.” Derah clasped her hands. “Oh, thank lord.” Despite her proclamation, she couldn't help but feel disappointed. As they approached the palace, Edge took Derah's lantern and her own, stowing them away in the old shed. Brushing her bushy brown hair aside, Derah stood in front of the guards. “No one must know that her highness entered the palace at these hours of the morning,” Edge instructed the guards. “If you tell a soul, then my mother shall have your throat.” Edge glared. The guards gulped, letting them in.

“I trust you can reach your rooms yourself, Your Majesty?” Edge asked, smirking coyly.

“I can. Now leave me and be with it, rag picker.” Derah grinned back, playfully hitting her on the back of her head. Both parted ways.

Weekly #4

Jem eyed the cakes in the window, shivering in the cold. She carefully counted the rusty coins in her hand. Just enough for the magnificent chocolate pastry for sale. She stepped into the shop, the bells chiming merrily as she inhaled the scent of gingerbread. The shop's owner was restocking the freezer. She smiled as Jem walked in. “Ah, Jem. What can I offer you?” Jem returned the smile, dropping the coins into her palm. “A chocolate pastry, please. The pastry levitated toward her, complete with a paper plate and wooden spoon. She took the pastry and stepped outside the sugary warmth of the shop.

She walked along the path, eating her pastry. Suddenly, she tripped. Crashing into the snow, Jem levitated the pastry just in time. Directing it to her hand, she took a bite, closing her eyes in ravenous ecstasy. Jem heard someone chuckle. She whirled backwards to find a dashing dark haired boy. A vampire. ”What's so funny?“ She asked, staring at the vampire. It was evening, and the sun had set. He outright laughed. ”Its just that you value that pastry over your own well being,“ he choked out, still laughing. ”Didn't know mortals could be this funny.“

Cheeks pinking, Jem narrowed her eyes. ”I have a name.“ He stopped laughing. ”You have a name.“ He repeated. ”May I have the honor of knowing it?“ Jem chewed on her cake, contemplating the matter. ”Jem. And yours?“

”Nym. Unique, I know.“

Jem puffed out her cheeks, and started walking. Nym followed her idly. Jem turned back to him. ”Are you following me?“ Nym whistled a low tune. ”Don't flatter yourself. My destination is this way. Not many mortals are graced with a presence of a vampire,“ He flashed his fangs. ”Especially one as charming as myself.“ Jem sighed. ”I don't feel graced at all.“

Jem continued to walk, suddenly stopping. Nym hummed a low tune, walking in circles. Jem threw her plate and spoon in the trash, and looked up at the large advertisement billboard. It advertised a flea market. Jem jumped. ”Oh god. I forgot! Mom told me to be there and set up our stall!“ She checked her watch, cross checking the time of the flea market. ”I have fifteen minutes to go home and get everything there.“ She muttered to herself, fumbling in her pocket for any cash. She found two small pennies, barely enough for taxi fare. ”Short on money there, huh?“ Nym asked, pulling out a small stack of crumpled notes. Jem shook her head. ”I'll be sunken in debt if I accept that.“ She refused. ”You don't need to repay me. I need a favor. And you're exactly the person fit for it.“
Jem frantically organized trinkets on the rough wooden table. Her gaze fell on a thin black book. ”I don't remember this being here,“ She hummed to herself, flipping through the pages. It sparked a memory. She'd stolen it from Clare, one day by the swings. She probably was here, and she caught a flash of bright green hair. That had to be Clare. As she finished setting up, her mother appeared, looking pleased. ”I need to go, mother.“ She informed her, and vanished into the crowd. Finally, she found Clare. She was bargaining with the baker. ”I said I'll take it for five gold. Not eight. This is a ripoff!“

”Um, Clare?“ Jem fiddled with her fingers. Clare was known for her temper. ”What is it, Jem?“ she asked, whirling behind. The baker disappeared beneath the stall, presumably restocking. ”Here.“ She shoved the book into her hands and ran away. Bumping into someone's chest, she looked up to find Nym. He grinned handsomely at her. She didn't acknowledge him, but continued to sprint.

After the flea market, she had to attend the ribbon cutting of her friend's stationary shop. Only thing was, it was on the other side of a huge lake. ”I'm going to need to catch the fastest boat,“ She murmured to herself, and crossed the street, flagging down a taxi.

The docks were packed. People clambered onto boats, and others got off. She ran to the ticket area. A blonde woman looked up at her through the glass. ”I need the fastest boat to the Damocles dock.“ She requested, and pulled out the remaining money of what Nym gave her. ”Here.“ The woman inspected the money, and gave her a ticket. ”Your boat will departure in two minutes.“ She informed, and Jem ran to the docks. Brandishing her ticket at the counter, she got in line to board the boat. The boat arrived. It was magnificent. It was heavily decorated, and blue and silver in color. Unlike some boats, the paint wasn't chipped anywhere. She clambered onto it.

Jem, walking to the sides of the boat, tripped over something. She picked it up. It looked ancient, and felt its magic pulsing through her veins. It was a silver brooch, with a small light blue sapphire fastened in the middle. She pocketed it. Judging from the magic it radiated, it could come in useful. It wasn't all good magic, she discerned, the object safe in her pocket. Dark magic, glimmering with hatred, she could feel it. It was dangerous, she thought to herself. Perhaps not even a witch's brooch. No, this must belong to some vampire. But it was silver, she argued. Perhaps a powerful, evil witch. A banshee or hag. She scanned the area, searching for anyone suspicious. No, most people were surprisingly bubbly and sweet, chatting with each other without a care in the world.

Jem drew it out her pocket. She stared at it, and it came to her. Sharp and fresh in her mind. A memory.

A younger version of Jem drooled over some cakes in the display shop of the bakery. Despite knowing she couldn't afford those, yet she tortured herself by looking at it. A young woman, slim with dark hair and a pale complexion, noticed her. She walked towards her. Young Jem felt something powerful pulsing behind her. She looked back to find the young woman. ”Want some money?“ She offered, and young Jem refused. ”No thank you,“ she replied. She admired her beauty. Her hair was dark, like midnight, but her icy blue eyes sparkled with light. ”No, I insist.“ She said, and dragged her into the bakery. It was heaven to a younger Jem, and she looked to the owner. ”A chocolate pastry, please.“ Jem accepted the sweet treat. ”Now, run along your way. I hate to see a poor, starving child in the streets. “ she bared her fangs, and walked outside. It was dark, and fewer people were on the streets. Jem also appeared out. She saw the woman. Her fangs were coated with blood, and on the ground, lay a corpse. Screaming, a younger Jem ran down the street. And that's when she saw it.

Sapphire glinted maliciously at her, and the silver sparkled in the light.

Suddenly, Jem felt a strange feeling of nervousness. She looked behind. There was no one there. This seemed oddly familiar. But she'd never been on this boat before. Jem looked into the blue seas. Something inside her brain sparked, like a memory. She grasped for it, but it wasn't there. Jem calmed herself. She felt the world fall out of focus, as her sight blurred. She blinked. The boat blasted a horn. ”We've arrived at the Damocles dock.“ A voice announced, the loudspeaker nearby, startling her. What's weird was that even that seemed familiar. Why the sudden deja vu? she thought to herself, jumping down the boat. Ignoring the feeling, she crossed the street, rushing to her destination. She found a taxi easily, but realized she hadn't got any money for the fair. Again the strange feeling of deja vu. Instead, Jem sprinted to her destination, deciding running was faster. But she still couldn't shake of the familiarity of the place.

Suddenly, the world morphed. She back to the flea market. She blinked. Nym grinned handsomely at her. She stared at him, watching as the worlds glitched, and Jem found herself, screaming, torn between. Suddenly, it came to a standstill.

She looked at her hands, covered in blood. She flashed her fangs. Nym gasped. Jem was a vampire. She had been a vampire. All this time. Just with an immunity to silver. And an ability to hid it. She smirked.

Nym and Jem walked on the footpath, their feet failing to leave imprints in the snow. ”I still can't believe I didn't smell you out,“ Nym protested. It had been difficult for her to wipe out the smug smile on her face, and Nym didn't like it. He ruffled her hair. ”Who knew you could be that smart?“ he asked. ”You seemed so naive at first- so adorable, not knowing anything. And turns out you're a bloodsucking monster?“ Jem shook her head. ”You're going to far there, Nym. Remember, even you're a vampire. And I do suck blood, mostly O positive.“ Nym gasped. ”You drink human blood? My parent would never-“ Jem laughed. ”Of course not. It's only animal blood.“ Nym took a calming breath.

”What else are you hiding? Wait. You're the princess of vampires, the long lost vampire princess. You've killed a thousand humans. You're one hundred thousand years old.“ He joked, and Jem shook her head. ”You're the worst, Nym.“


They were so busy talking that they didn't notice a shadow looming over them, ready to strike.

Jem woke up to find herself in a dark cell. A masked man stood in front of them, and he seemed to be polishing his nails. ”Um, If you don't mind me asking, How do you do it?“ Jem asked, and the man glanced at her. ”What do you mean? Kill vampires?“ He asked, a smug tint to his voice.

”No. Knock us out only to have us wake up as soon as we're in your super evil lair. How do all bad guys do that?“ She inquired, and the man narrowed his eyes. ”Don't play games with me, vampire.“ He hissed.

”Rude, much.“ She crossed her arms. Nym also rose, relaxed. ”We need to get out of here,“ He whispered to her, once the man turned away. Jem nodded. She focused on the room. It was dark. The bars were made out of silver. ”I bet if I turned into a bat, I could escape.“ She muttered to Nym.

Her clothes immediately disappeared as she assumed the form of a bat, her dark wings melting into the darkness. Lovely camouflage, she thought to herself. She tried to fly out, but crashed against the bars. She took the air, flapping her wings determinedly. She flew out this time, and found a small lever outside the door. Easy enough, she thought, morphing into a vampire, her clothes fitting her figure. She pulled the lever, and Nym, who'd also become a bat, flew outside. She turned back into a bat, and both flew away. The man turned back to cage.

It was empty.

He growled angrily, stomping his feet on the floor. ”Foolish vampires. They don't know they'll never get out.“ He thought to himself satisfactorily.

Suddenly, Jem began to sink. Quite literally. Her wings dipped into the floor. Nym turned backwards, watching as she transformed back into a human, still dropping into the floor. ”It's fiod, Nym, Run away before it gets you.“ She shouted. ”I should've known.“ Nym looked back to her, watching her as she dipped into the ground before his eyes. ”Just run! I'll be fine!“ She screamed. He sprinted forwards. ”Fiod attracts vampires, doesn't it? But I'm half faerie. So it should probably look deeper into my blood, detecting faerie,“ She muttered furiously. ”So it should release me soon,“ She screwed her eyes shut, as her face started to disappear. The fiod was deeper in the ground, and wouldn't be able to grasp onto the faerie scent until she herself was closer. Cursing the person who built this place,she felt her body slide against the concrete uncomfortably. How'd they even get hold of fiod? It was super rare, according to her mother. Suddenly, it released her. Changing into a bat, she flapped away quickly.

As she stepped out into the moonlight, she was met by Nym's concerned gaze. ”I'm fine.“ She said. ”Come to my house.“Jem dragged him through the streets. ”Are you sure you're okay?“ He asked, and Jem snapped. ”Are you sure you're okay? I already said I was fine.“ He didn't reply, but tugged it shirt out of her hands. ”I can walk on my own, you know.“

Her mother answered the door. Jem inhaled the familiar sugary sweet scent of her own house. Her mother had recently got into baking, however she was a strict person. No freebies, she'd declared. ”Mother, this is Nym.“ She said, pushing the said boy forward. He bowed, and corners of her mouth tugged up. ”Come in, you both.“ Her mother arranged Pain aux chocolates on a tray, and offered them to Nym. He politely took one, and so did Jem. Her mother glared at her. ”Sit down, child.“ She gestured for Nym to sit. ”Want anything sweet?“ She asked. ”Cookies?“ Nym nodded, and her mother obliged, pulling out a tray of cookies seemingly out of nowhere. ”Thanks, Mrs-“

”Call me Indi.“ She replied, smiling warmly. ”Thanks, Indi.“ He said. The words sounded weird on his tongue. Shrugging her thick jacket off, Jem hung it on the rack, pouring herself a glass of sheep's blood. ”I'm so thirsty,“ She announced, to no one in particular, taking a big swig of it, gulping most of it down in once. ”This is great, Indi! Do you own a bakery?“ Nym questioned, biting into a cookie. Her mother laughed. ”I wish. I work a job at a restaurant as a chef.“ She boasted, and Jem rolled her eyes. ”Yeah mother. Everyone knows how great you are at cooking. Exceptional talent,“ she said, her lips red. She wiped them, once she saw Nym staring at her. ”Want some?“ She offered him the bottle. He nodded lightly. Jem poured the liquid into a glass, the blood looking fiercely red in the crystal. ”Here.“ She gave it to him. ”At least get him a tray, Jem.“ Her mother scolded lightly, watching fondly as he drank the blood.


The next day, Jem left the house, covering her face with a hood and immunity potion. She went towards her school, the intimidating brick building looming over her imperiously. Sighing, she stepped inside, and went toward the noticeboard. Announcements for senior prom and campaigns for head girl shone on it. Her fingers ran across the glossy paper.

”Vote for me, Jem!“ A brown-haired girl winked at her, fishing out her phone. ”But I don't even know your name!“ Jem protested, staring after her. ”We were in the same club during sixth grade!“ She grinned, and Jem squinted. ”But I left that club after one meeting-“ She began, but the girl sashayed down the hallway. Jem glared at her back, and keyed in the digits to her locker.

She shoved her things inside, not bothering to organize them. A strawberry blonde boy came up to her. ”Who're you voting for?“ he questioned.

Jem shrugged. ”Whoever bribes me the most, of course.“ She grinned. The boy playfully hit her on the head. ”You devil.“ She shut her locker, banging the door. ”What about you, Sage?“ She asked. ”Obviously, I'm voting for Cashew,“ He replied, rolling his eyes.
Jem shoved his shoulder, none too aggressively. ”A hunter almost caught me yesterday,“ She whispered,”He had fiod in his lair.“ Sage's eyes widened. ”Are you kidding me? A hunter in town?“ Jem nodded. ”Look at what I found on a boat,“ She showed him the silver brooch. ”Whoa- That's so pretty!“ He whisper-yelled, examining the sapphire. Jem quickly hid it. ”It feels like dark magic, though. Did some inexplicable things.“ She referred to the sudden time swap.

The day was uneventful. Apart from the excessive campaigns (Pier, the brunette, had a band play ‘vote for pier’ whilst cherry put on a show during the hallways). Jem mostly stuck to Sage, discussing yesterday's events. Her eyes tracked the clock's hour hand as it moved slowly. It was five minutes to four. The teacher took her name, but she didn't reply. Giving up, she asked another student the question, who correctly answered. Her gaze remained fixed on the clock.

Jem adjusted her hoodie, careful not to let sun touch any of her skin. Sage, who was a werewolf, walked alongside her, the two discussing the campaigning. Jem dropped off Sage, messing up his hair entirely, before going home. She gasped.

The young woman stood at her doorstep, smirking at her. Jem walked across the street past her house, breathing in calmly. She knew the elderly old lady who was a witch, who lived at the last street of the lane. Aiming for the house, she walked slowly and painfully, aware of the woman who followed behind her. She knocked nervously on the door. The lady answered. She pushed her inside, shutting the door. ”Grandma, there's no time to discuss about this. I have the brooch of the woman on the door. She's a vampire- and she drinks human blood. In public,“ Her grandma gasped. It was atrocious at her time to even think of murdering on the streets. It was pure frivolity and disrespect to do so in her age.
The young woman stood at her doorstep, smirking at her. Jem walked across the street past her house, breathing in calmly. She knew the elderly old lady who was a witch, who lived at the last street of the lane. Aiming for the house, she walked slowly and painfully, aware of the woman who followed behind her. She knocked nervously on the door. The lady answered. She pushed her inside, shutting the door. ”Grandma, there's no time to discuss about this. I have the brooch of the woman on the door. She's a vampire- and she drinks human blood. In public,” Her grandma gasped. It was atrocious at her time to even think of murdering on the streets. It was pure frivolity and disrespect to do so in her age. “Well, In my time-” She began, but Jem wasn't listening. She fingered the brooch anxiously. She felt its dark presence. She took a deep breath, glancing outside. The woman wasn't there. She opened the door, and ran to her house, leaving her grandmother behind. The old woman, sighed shutting the door.

A woman with blood coating her lips greeted her on her doorstep. She pushed the brooch back in her pocket, breathing sharply.

“Come with me, daughter.”

code: Your Journey: dystopian, option #1, hifi, option #1, fantasy, option #1, folklore, option #1, fanfi, option #1, scifi, option #1, bifi, option #1, poetry, option #2, mystery, option #1, realfi, option #1, script, option #2, thriller, option #1, nonfi, option #1, horror, option #2, adventure, option #3


3126 words #hififtw!