I've been doing this a lot lately...having to do double prompts because I didn't post the day before. I'm sorry. I will try to do better in the future (probably not this weekend, or really ever on the weekends for the next month or so), but I will try. So here we are, two prompts in one...once again.
Prompt: I can’t decide if stepping on a thumbtack or a Lego is worse. “Agh!” I shout as a pain invades my foot. I glance down. A thumbtack is stuck to my foot. I grimace. This day just keeps getting better and better. First I step on a Lego in my daughter’s room, and then my foot finds a thumbtack in my supply closet. I couldn’t decide which was worse, stepping on a thumbtack or a Lego. Prompt: The princess is cursed to die on her sixteenth birthday. Instead of hiding her away, her parents set out to make sure she experiences as much life as possible before the date. “Before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday the princess will die!” the witch screeched before disappearing in a mist. A hush fell over the crowd. They couldn’t believe it. What could be done about this dire predicament that they were in. “We should hide the princess away!” advisors yelled. “Find the witch and break the curse!” yet others shouted. The royal family looked at each other. They knew neither option would be a good one. There was no way that the witch was going to take back her curse, and it couldn’t be undone by anyone else. They couldn’t hide the princess away. They couldn’t force that kind of life on her. They knew. Their precious daughter was only going to be theirs for 16 years. They were going to make it count. They did. She was afforded all the luxuries of a princess and a normal teenage girl. She was allowed to hunt, ride, spend time with friends. The sky was the limit. She was going to experience as much life as possible. Quality of life trumped quantity.
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I didn't get around to doing it yesterday, I know...tragic...but, it actually kind of turned out to be a good thing because yesterday's prompt and today's prompt just worked out so well together to come into one prompt.
Prompt: They don’t teach you this in school. Prompt: She knew this was no place for a baby, she had to let her father take her. I held my baby to my chest, trying to keep myself from crying. I couldn’t do this. The entire situation had showed me just how much I wasn’t prepared for this. I couldn’t be a mother. I couldn’t raise a child. I especially couldn’t raise her here, in this environment, and in the situation I was now in. They didn’t teach me how to deal with this in school. How could they? It wasn’t a normal occurance to be dragged back home and then held hostage, oh and on top of that have to deal with a newborn baby, who, with all the drama that was going on, you hadn’t had a chance to name. I hadn’t been excited when I had found out that I was pregnant. I had never wanted children. The world had too much darkness in it to make me want to bring a child into it. I didn’t want my kids to have to go through what I had gone through. I didn’t want to bring more children into my family situation. That would be cruel and unusual punishment. While I may not have wanted her at first, I had agreed to go through with the pregnancy, and now, that she was born, I cursed my decision. I stared at her face. Her nameless, sleeping face. What was I going to do? I was hardly keeping my own head above water, I couldn’t do that and keep her safe. This place was no place to raise a child. I couldn’t take care of her. I knew what I had to do. I had to send her away. I knew I had to give her up, at least for the time being. There was only one person I could trust. Only one person who could take her. Her father. With my baby strapped to my back, I wandered through the forest, gathering the ingredients I would need. “Come to me, Marcus,” I said, as I lit the fire, “Appear before me.” I stared at the smoke, my stomach sinking as nothing happened. Maybe I had gotten the incantation wrong. Maybe I had the wrong ingredients. Maybe something had gone wrong. I hadn’t used witchcraft in so long, maybe I had lost the ability. I was just about to break down into tears, when a form started to appear in the fog. “Lydia?” Marcus asked, he looked confused, not that I blamed him, after all it wasn’t every day you were summoned from the dead. “Marcus,” I sighed, relief flooding through me. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching out to me. I take a step back even though I know that he can’t really touch me. I’m trying to forgive me for what he did, and I thought I had, but I guess I haven’t, not really, not yet. “I can’t do this right now,” I said, “I need your help.” I hated those words. “What?” he asked, “Anything.” Desperate to help, desperate to prove himself. It would have been sweet, if it hadn’t been so revolting. “I need you,” I took the baby off my back, “To take our daughter.” “What?” he asked, his eyes widened until they looked like dinner plates, “I um…” he glanced around nervously, “Um...our...our…” “Daughter,” I supplied. I knew that look. I had done that look. When I had found out I was pregnant I had had the same thought. Then, when she was born, I had that same look come to my face. A child just hadn’t been in the cards. It hadn’t been a part of the plan, and yet here she was, and now she needed to be protected. “I have my hands full here,” I continued, trying to be sympathetic to that feeling, “I can’t take care of her. I can’t protect her. I can’t even protect myself. I need you,” I took a step forward. I forced the baby on him. “I...I..” he stammered. “You’ll be fine,” I whispered, making sure our daughter was secure in his arms, “Take care of her,” I brushed my hand against his cheek, and gave him a light kiss on his lips before breaking the connection. I watched as my husband and child disappeared into the mist. It's been a crazy weekend. I was out of town for most of it, and then got sick and zonked out for what was left of the weekend. So, you get three in one day :). Three separate prompts....not combined...they aren't the greatest, but I hope you'll forgive me for it.
Prompt: I’ll always remember that day, and the yellow dress she wore. (Saturday) “You don’t know me,” () I shouted at him. I don’t know why I was feeling so defensive, so ready to attack, but I was, and I was attacking anything that was close to me. I knew he didn’t deserve it. He had nothing to do with any of this. “I know you better than you realize,” () said. I scoffed. “Oh come on,” () said, “We grew up together, and while you may have never noticed that I even existed, that doesn’t mean I didn’t, or that I didn’t notice you. Because guess what? I did notice. I noticed everything about you. And I will always remember the day that you left. You were wearing a yellow dress, full of sunshine and happiness. You looked so free, so happy. You had escaped. You had gotten everything you have ever wanted. I wanted to be happy for you, but I couldn’t. Not then. You had broken my heart. That day, in that yellow dress, you put the final nail in the coffin of my hopes and dreams of us being together.” Prompt: I had to get to the Generals camp as soon as possible. (Sunday) I had to get to the Generals camp as soon as possible. They had to hear about what I had overheard while I was spying. If what I heard was true, we were in some serious trouble. They had to be warned. I thought if they knew, they would protect us. I thought they would figure something out. It turned out that I was wrong. They knew all too well what we were walking into. They had planned it that way. They were sending us into the slaughter. It was their chess game and we were merely pawns. Prompt: I need him, but every time I go to him he takes a part of me. (Today) I turn into myself. I curl up into as small of a ball as I can get. I crave physical touch. I crave being held by someone. I long to have someone hold me, to make things better. I want to go to him. I know he’ll be there. He’ll be there to pick up the pieces, to take me in his arms and give me the physical touch that I so desire, and to fix everything that is broken inside of me. I need that. I need to go to him, but I can’t. He’s perfect, but I lean on him way too much. He can fix everything. I know I need him. But I can’t go to him. I can’t have him fix this. I know how stupid it sounds. I know that it doesn’t make much sense, but it will. I need him, but every time I go to him, he takes a part of me. He doesn’t necessarily know that that is what he’s doing. It’s my own fault really. I should be stronger. I shouldn’t have fallen for him, but I did. Now every time I go to him I fall a little bit more. He doesn’t feel the same, and knowing that kills. It eats away at me. So I don’t. I can’t. I have to find new and different ways to fix this myself. I am strong. I don’t need him. Nothing worse than space jail, right? :p
Heads up, I will be out of town this weekend, so I probably won't post until Sunday night or Monday morning at the latest. So you'll have either a combined prompt for this weekend, or two prompts in one. Prompt: “I can’t believe I’m sitting in space jail with you of all people.” Anatogia grumbled under her breath as she crossed her arms in front of her. She gave Milovio a withering stare as she did so. “I can’t believe I’m sitting in space jail,” she mumbled, loud enough for Milovio to hear the upset in her voice, “With YOU,” she sent another withering stare toward Milovio. If her looks had the power to kill, he would have been dead five times over by now. Man she wished she had that power, but alas, she didn’t, “Of all people.” “Well being stuck in space jail with you ain’t no picnic either deary,” Milovio said, sending his own withering stare toward Anatogia and using the word deary because he knew exactly how much it bothered Anatogia. “Well it’s your fault. You’re the reason we’re here. If we had just followed the plan that I laid out for us, we would be fine, but NO you had to go off script!” “The mission was going awry anyway. If anything I was doing you a favor! If I hadn’t done what I did we would have ended up six feet under.” Anatogia glared at him. She had nothing to say to that. She knew he was right. The plan had gone off the tracks. Getting them thrown in jail had actually helped them, but that didn’t mean that she had to like it. Prompt: I never knew it was possible to become trapped in my own dreams.
I used to think that dreams were just dreams. Figments of stories that your mind created. They held no real power over you. I never knew it was possible To become trapped in your own dreams. I learned the hard way. I learned through experience, That such a phenomenon was not only an actuality, But it was all too real a situation To get stuck in your dreams. Screams, pain, fire, pleas, tears Voices echoed around and around in my head. I tried to break free, Tried to find a way out, But the voices followed me. They haunted me. They screamed at me. Even when my eyes were open, Even when I thought I was awake, I couldn’t escape the terror. I was in Hell, And there was no way out. I would get stuck in my dreams as I slept, Unable to force my eyes open, Unable to run away from the screams. Eyes open, The visions remained. I tried to block them out, I tried to keep my mind occupied, But it just drained me. And I was sent back into the terror of the night. I was filled with dread. Both awake and asleep. I had been trapped. I was trapped in a living Hell. I had become trapped in my own dreams. And there was no escape. Everyone gets them....everyone hates them....but they still keep coming, they still keep happening...so, what do you do with potential spam callers?
Prompt: “Potential spam? Then I’m potentially not answering. Or I could have a little fun….” Ryan glared at her phone as it rang once again, the caller ID saying Potential Spam. They had been doing this all day. It was beginning to drive her crazy. “Potential spam?” she said to herself, “Then I’m potentially not answering,” she said, almost feeling smug about her decision. Then, an evil smile spread across her face, “Or,” her face lit up as she came up with another idea, “I could have a little fun.” Yes! She could get revenge on these potential spammers. She accepted the call. “Hello?” she asked. The spammer went on their normal speil, trying to rattle Ryan, but she refused to be rattled. She knew what they were doing, and she was one step ahead of them. While it wasn’t as high stakes as some of the con jobs she had done, it still gave her a thrill to know that she was beating the spammers at their own game. Prompt: “You’re quite confident for a man with over 20 guns pointed at their head.” / “And you’re a terrible shot. Given you trained the other men, there’s not much to worry over.”
Hunter stared the man down. “You’re quite confident for a man with over 20 guns pointed at their head,” the man scoffed, glancing around at his men who were surrounding Hunter, guns at the ready. Their fingers were twitching with the need to pull the trigger and end Hunter’s existence. They wanted to wipe that smug smile off of Hunter’s face. “And you’re a terrible shot,” Hunter said, keeping his voice straight and calm, “Given you trained the other men,” Hunter glanced around at the men who were surrounding him, noticing the same hand hold that the man in front of him had, noticing that small tell that gave away their trainers identity, “There’s not much to worry over.” The man glared at Hunter, his anger boiling up inside of him. If his leader had allowed it, he would put an end to Hunter’s miserable life right here and now, but his leader wanted Hunter brought to him, alive. Stupid. He wanted nothing more than to throttle Hunter with his own two hands. Carrie watched the showdown. Hunter looked calm and collected, like he didn’t care that there were over 20 guns at his head, but that couldn’t be true. He couldn’t be that calm. He had to be scared. There was no way out of this. He was going to die. He must be freaking out. She was freaking out, and they didn’t even know she was there. She had to do something. Otherwise, Hunter would be dead, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. As silent as a shadow, she made her way around the group, knocking them unconscious. She hadn’t even made it halfway through when her actions were brought to light and the rest of the group started shooting at random. Hunter ducked and made a run for it. Noticing that Hunter was free, Carrie made her way toward Hunter. She had almost made it when a bullet ripped through her stomach. Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day! Enjoy your day off if you have it. Enjoy it anyway even if you don't.
I wasn't quite sure where to go with this prompt, but it's hilarious. It's a quote from the play Charlie's Aunt....it happens to be one of mine and Torri's favorite plays. We went to see it at least once a week when it was playing at the Shakespeare festival...and I dragged my sister's to it when it was playing at Hale in Orem, because it is that good. It doesn't get old. And I don't know if I can do this justice.....so, just watch Charlie's Aunt :p... Prompt: “How can I be a real old lady with my trousers on?!” “How can I be a real old lady with my trousers on?!” Michael screeched. “Well if you don’t think you can, then why don’t you take them off?” Sara suggested. “I am not wearing a dress without my trousers on!” “Then stop complaining!” Pulling double duty again today. Sorry, yesterday kind of got away from me. So here is today's prompt and yesterday's prompt. They are the beginnings of a story that came to me while I was trying to fall asleep last night. I have no idea where it's going, or what it's going to happen in it, or even what it's about, but it will be fun seeing it unfold. I don't even know if either of these prompts will actually make it into the actual story, but that's okay. It sounds like it'll be an interesting story any way.
Prompt: “I would’ve liked to have this conversation at a decent hour of the day, but 1:30 in the morning is fine too.” “I have to tell you something,” Jason’s voice came through the phone that blared through my dreams. “What?” I mumble. He had chosen the absolute worst time to wake me up. I glanced groggily at the clock. 1:30….a quick glance toward the window proved that it was 1:30 in the morning and not in the afternoon. What on earth could be so important that he had to tell me right now? “We are going back to Jarles Island,” Jason said. That sent be bolting upright. Jarles Island? This couldn’t be happening. There was no way. I had vowed that I was never going to go back. I refused to go back. No way, no how. “I would have liked to have this conversation at a decent hour of the day,” Jason continued. “But you didn’t,” I grumbled, “So I guess 1:30 in the morning is fine too.” He couldn’t have chosen a worse time to tell me all of this. Prompt: I never believed in fate or destiny or whatever it is you want to call it. That is, until today. I never used to believe in fate or destiny or whatever you want to call it. In fact I was all about autonomy, about doing things for yourself. You created your own future, your own path. It was all you. Nothing was destined to happen. Fate played no part of it. At least that’s what I thought. Until now. Staring out into the distance watching as a speck of land got bigger and bigger as I approached. I stared at the island, the island I had long ago thought I had long ago left with no thought of ever returning. I had never believed in fate when I had left I had carved out my own path far from that island far from everything I knew. I had left. Although I was fated to stay. Everyone always said my family was destined to remain there the rest of their lives. We were destined for that island. I didn’t believe them and now looking at that speck of land I couldn’t help but wonder if there was some kind of truth in all this talk of destiny. Prompt: “I can’t believe it.” / “What?” / “I forgot my *insert thing here* (Kindle)”
Prompt: “Hey, that guy you met last night was pretty cute.” / “That guy was an assassin. He tried to kill me.” / “Still cute.” / “Stop trying to set me up. You’re not good at it.” Gabriella sighed as she walked into the room. It had been a long day and all she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and fall fast asleep. “Shoot!” Gabriella breathed, “I can’t believe it,” she continued to mutter under her breath. “What?” Marcy asked, popping up from the couch and looking over at Gabriella. “What the,” Gabriella gasped, her heart leaping into her chest. “What can’t you believe?” “I forgot my left overs at the restaurant. I was wanting to have those for lunch tomorrow,” Gabriella stated before asking her question, she knew Marcy wouldn’t be answering anything unless her question was answered first, “Now what on earth are you doing in my apartment?” “I wanted to know how your date went.” “Never again,” Gabriella sighed, plopping down next to Marcy on the couch. “Okay, new guy,” Marcy said not even skipping a beat. Gabriella didn’t know how she did it, but Marcy always seemed to have a revolving door of men to help set Gabriella with. “No,” Gabriella said. “Hey,” Marcy almost sounded insulted, “That guy you met last night was pretty cute,” Marcy urged. Against Gabriella’s better judgement, she had allowed Marcy to drag her to a bar. It had started out fine, but the night had quickly ended in disaster. “That guy was an assassin,” Gabriella explained to Marcy, “He tried to kill me.” If it hadn’t been for a very observant bartender, and their employer, Gabriella was sure she wouldn’t have made it out alive. “Still cute,” Marcy pouted. “Marcy,” Gabriella said gently, “You know I love you, dearly. You are one of my best friends, but you have to stop trying to set me up. You just aren’t any good at it.” |
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