Sorry, I didn't post yesterday. I had a long day at work. But here was yesterday's prompt.
Prompt: One of the hardest decisions you’ll ever face in life is choosing whether to walk away or try harder. Have a character make a choice. Gemma fell back onto the bed with tears in her eyes. She pulled her pillow up to her chest and curled herself around it. “What’s wrong?” Anna asked, coming into the room and seeing Gemma as the hot mess that she was. “He hates me,” Gemma sniffled. “He doesn’t hate you,” Anna said. “Well,” Gemma said, sitting upright, “If he doesn’t hate me then he doesn’t like me, at least not the way I like him. I’m in love with him, and he just sees me as a friend. It hurts. It hurts so bad,” Gemma began to cry harder. “There comes a time in life where you have to decide whether you want to try harder or if you want to give up,” Anna sat down next to Gemma, “So, you can try harder, or you can give up the idea of you and Lance altogether.” Gemma nodded. She would have to get it out of her head. She had to leave this idea of her and Lance out of her mind. She had to go cold turkey. She couldn’t see him, at least not for now. It was too hard. Maybe she would be able to be friends with him again later, but at the moment she needed to be away from him. WwddPrompt: The bloody knife fell to the floor as I realized what I’d done.
The smirk rubbed her the wrong way. It made her skin crawl. Still, she couldn’t do it. She lowered the sword. The man laughed, a twinkle in his eye. He reached around, grabbing a knife and tossing it at Hunter. Carrie knocked it out of the way, and while she was distracted, he grabbed the other sword from her hand. She turned, her sword cutting his side. He swung the sword, and while she was deflecting it, Carrie’s sword slipped into the man’s abdomen. His eyes widened in surprise. The sword began to feel heavy in his hands, and he dropped it, unable to hold it any longer as he fell to his knees and to the ground as the life slipped from him. Carrie’s bloody sword fell to the ground as she realized what she had done. She stared at him, her eyes widening in horror. Good luck on the first day of school to those who are starting today! You'll do great!
Prompt: Oh! It went up my nose! “I’m being eaten alive,” Lucy complained as she slapped at yet another bug. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t taste so good,” Marcus laughed. “Ugh, I hate them so much, I want them all to die.” “Well aren’t you the vicious one tonight,” Anna laughed at her friend’s predicament. “Yeah, well if they stopped eating me alive, then I’d be happier. OH!” she gasped. “What?” Marcus asked. “It went up my nose!” she screamed, getting to her feet and jumping up and down like a crazy person, “It’s up my nose! It’s in my nose! Get it out! Get it out!” “Calm down,” Marcus said, holding her arms to stop her jumping, “Now breathe hard through your nose.” She did so, and a bug flew back out her nose. With school starting for most people, I decided to use a prompt about school. For all of those who have already started school, sorry I’m late, but good luck. For those who are going to be starting soon, good luck. Your first day will be great!
Prompt: Write about school. School. It is both longed for and dreaded at the same time. You want to go back, see friends, for those in college, to go out and be on your own again, and yet, you don’t want to have to deal with the stresses of school either. It’s a difficult challenge to face. Education, no matter how long it takes, or how it is gotten, is important, and I support everyone who is trying to get that education no matter what they have to deal with. Freshman year of college we had to live with ghosts, literally. We named them Onslow and John. Onslow was a child playing childish pranks, nothing to worry about. John, however was a creeper. He terrified us, especially with his whistles. I got to travel, and see new places, be the bane of existence to one of my professors. It was great. School creates memories, go out and get them. Prompt: I know things….remember?
“You’re going to ask her to marry you?” Aaron didn’t even glance up from his magazine that he was reading. Lance paused and glanced at him. How did Aaron know? He hadn’t even known until just a minute ago. “How’d you know?” he finally asked, not able to get a handle on his curiosity. “I know things….” Aaron said with a shrug, “Remember?” “But how?” “Please, I’ve known you for ages. I know everything about you. I knew you liked Gemma before you did, of course I knew that you were going to propose before you did. You are an open book to everyone but yourself, and of course Gemma, but she’s also an open book to everyone but you, so I guess it’s fair.” “Not true,” Lance sulked, crossing his arms like a petulent child. Today is a free day :). We are allowed to do anything we like. So those of you who are writing a prompt a day with us, great, take a break, enjoy, or use this time to catch up on prompts you may be missing. I chose to use today to work on a personal project I've decided to work on.
Prompt: Today is a free day. You can use it as you like. You can rework a prompt, find your own prompt, work on something you've been working on, take a break, anything you want. Enjoy. I walked into my job. It was a normal Sunday morning, the sun was shining, and General Conference was on. Things were fine. I had been there for about half an hour before my phone rang. It was my coworker at the Main street desk. She was calling to tell me that there was a resident in one of our vestibules. He had been there all night, and we should just keep an eye on him and make sure that he remained upright. I kept my eye out on him. Another one of our residents, Casey, walked in and wanted to talk. I muttered under my breath. I hated when he came through my lobby. He was always trying to weedle a hug out of me, and he was just constantly harassing me. As Casey talked I tried to think of something to get me out of there, some reason I could use to leave. I should have been more specific with my prayers, because a short time later the resident in the vestibule fell over. My heart leapt in my chest as I jumped out of my seat. It was thumping harder than it had ever had by the time I reached the door. I didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Casey, or see if he was following me or if he was leaving my lobby. I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting to my other resident. I ran through the hallways. My breath was hard to find by the time that I got there, and it was not only because of the pace I was setting for myself, but because I was worried over my resident. I hurried to my resident that was lying on the ground. He wasn’t moving. My heart dropped and now I really couldn’t breathe. I eyed the man, hoping to see some kind of up and down movement that would confirm that he was actually breathing, but I couldn’t see it. My heart stopped. My body was shaking. I knelt down, and tried to shake him. Nothing. Fear gripped my heart. Finally, he stirred, I heard a mumble. He was alive, maybe not conscious, but at least he was alive. I could breathe again. My heart was able to start breathing again. “Is he breathing?” my coworker asked over the intercom system. “Yeah, he’s breathing, but I can’t get him to wake up,” I say back. “Paramedics are on their way.” I keep trying to shake him, trying to get him to wake up, but nothing seems to work. I try to keep myself calm by reminding myself that he was alive and that help would be there soon, and they would be able to take care of him. I was bending over him, trying once again to wake him up, when a group of firemen came through the door. They were simply firemen, but to me, at that moment, they were the most precious, beautiful things in the world. They were like a miracle standing there. They came over and took charge, which I gladly let them do. I don’t know what they did or how they did it, but they managed to wake him up, and get him talking, somewhat, if not totally, coherently. He’d be fine. Casey escorted him back to his apartment, and I slowly made my way back to my lobby. I could breathe again, and my heart was returning back to normal, but my body was still shaking. I sat in my lobby, taking deep breaths, watching General Conference. I had just come back to normal, when I got a phone call from the Main street desk once again. “Your little friend is in the lobby,” my coworker said over the phone, “He’s drunk, and talking incoherently, can you come assist?” I hurried over, practically running, as well as I could, since of course that had been the day that I had decided to wear heels, and after my last bout of running, they were starting to kill. “What’s going on?” I asked as I arrived. “He’s dead….my brother is dead…” his voice slurred. I looked over at my coworker. I could tell that both of us were thinking the same thing. He was dead. The guy who had passed out in our vestibule, who had been escorted to an apartment, had died. He must have gone to his room, and died. “Where is he? Can you show us?” I asked. Neither one of us could recall which of the apartments Casey took the man to. We didn’t know if he was in Casey’s apartment, or in his own. In order to check up on him, we needed to find out where he was, and then we could call somebody else to assist. “I’ll show you,” he slurred. We didn’t have another choice. He couldn’t seem to be able to talk to us, and tell us where it was, so we followed him. We went up one staircase, down another, and all over the building. In his intoxicated state, he couldn’t recall where the room was, which meant, he had no idea where the dead boyd was. We finally walked into a vestibule that had a bunch of people standing there. Casey talked to them for a moment and they started laughing. My gut clenched. This was all a wild goose chase. They were laughing at us and our stupidity for allowing some intoxicated man to lead us all around the building for nothing. Anger started to boil up inside of me. It was irrational, and I knew it, but it was making me feel like a fool. Finally, we found the apartment he was looking for, which was neither person’s apartment. I knocked on the door, and the guest of the resident responded. His face looked rather shell shocked and haggard. He seemed confused, and dazed. “Is everything alright?” I asked. “He’s dead,” he shook his head, “I think he’s dead.” He stepped aside. On the floor of the apartment was a man. He wasn’t moving. WIth gloves on, I went inside and checked. His body was so cold, so clammy, it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like skin. There was no way that there was life in a body that was so cold and clammy. I hurried out of the room, under the pretense of needing to call the police, but I actually really just wanted to get out of there. I couldn’t be in that room any longer. I couldn’t stare at that dead body, and smell that smell any longer. I hurried out of the room and down into the courtyard as quickly as I could, trying not to appear like I was running away. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Casey apologized as he followed me through the courtyard. “It’s fine,” I brushed it off, trying to get moving and do my job, “Now I have things to do.” I hurried to the front desk and phoned the police. My heart beating hard, and my breathing was finding it difficult to find its way into my lungs. The police actually didn’t take too long to arrive. We lead them up to his room, and gave them all the information that we had. Somehow, I managed to remain calm through the whole thing. There was nothing left to do but go back to my desk and file the reports that needed to be filed. After all was said and done, my body started to shake, and everything felt overwhelming to me. In the depths of my despair, I texted Kyle, my home teacher, asking if he could come over and give me a blessing. He agreed and asked what time. He had never let me down before, but for some reason, I was still shocked that he had actually responded and said he would. We set a time, and he asked if we could make it earlier, which, due to me taking a half shift after my regular shift, I was unable to do. When I texted and told him that, I figured that would be it. He’d say that he couldn’t do it, and that would be that. Only it wasn’t ‘that’. It wasn’t the end. He simply agreed, and said he’d be there at the time we appointed. Somehow I managed to make it through the rest of my shift. My replacement came, I threw out everything that happened. She looked at me. “Are you okay?” she asked. “I’m fine,” I said with a shrug. None of my other coworkers seemed to have a problem with the things that happened here. None of them seemed to be bothered by it. I didn’t feel like it should bother me either. I didn’t want them to know that I was having a hard time with it. “You know,” she said, “It’s okay to not be okay.” I simply nodded, and headed out the door. On my way home I just bawled my eyes out, letting the stress that I was feeling just seep out of my eyes. I parked my car in my driveway and wiped my eyes and took some deep breaths before going inside. I had the entire house to myself since my sister and her family had gone to California for the weekend. I would be able to wallow in depression without having to worry about anyone witnessing. I was just about to break down again, when there was a knock on the door. My heart sunk. I had forgotten that I had asked Kyle to come over and give me a blessing. I was sunk now. With a sigh, I walked to the door and opened it. My heart sunk even further when I saw three people standing there. One was a man named Jeff, who was there to help with the blessing. The other was a girl named Jennifer. I never learned for sure why she was there. I wanted to slam the door in their faces, but instead I found myself standing aside and letting them come on in. “How are you doing?” Kyle asked. “Not so good,” I admitted, after all, I had asked him for a blessing, he had to know that there was something wrong, there was no use in pretending that I was fine. “What’s going on?” “I lost a resident today,” I said, somehow managing not to break into tears. “What does that mean?” Jennifer asked. I glanced over at her. She was going to make me say it. I didn’t want to say it. Saying it would make it real. I couldn’t let it be real. Not then. I couldn’t process it if it was real. I needed to do it slowly, in pieces. Not jump right into it. “They died,” I said softly. I had to talk quietly, otherwise I would start to cry, and I didn’t want to cry. I mean, I did want to, but I didn’t want to cry in front of people. That had never been something that i was comfortable doing, and the more I wanted to cry, the less I wanted witnesses. I tried to shake if off by ushering them into the house and brought a chair over and sat down in it. They asked who I wanted to give the blessing, and since Kyle was the only person in that house that I knew, I chose him. He did a wonderful job. I stood up, shook Jennifer and Jeff’s hands and Kyle gave me a hug. I expected that to be that. That they would leave. However, for the third time that day, they surprised me. They stayed. “We’re going to stay here and talk, if that’s okay?” Kyle asked, his arm still around me, looking at me to make sure it was okay. I nodded, not knowing what else to do. They sat down and started talking. I didn’t really know what to say or what to do. I don’t know how well I kept up with the conversation,but they stayed for quite awhile. When it was time to leave, the two others once again shook my hand, and Kyle once again gave me a hug. I held onto him, far longer than I probably should have, probably longer than was desired, even, but I couldn’t help it. It felt so good to have someone holding me. To have someone wrapping their arms around me, to be able to feel the warmth of life, and their heart beating. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. It made me forget the pain that I was feeling, it comforted me, and made me feel less alone. I just held him, soaking in the warmth of human contact. I cut off the hug a lot sooner than I would have liked. If I could, I would have held onto him a lot longer, but I couldn’t. I had already been holding him too long, and it was getting awkward, for everyone involved. They walked out. Finally, I would be able to crumble. A car pulled up. Shoot. I was out of luck. I’d have to wait. My sister was home. I read this one, and thought it was a great idea for a prompt. I thought it sounded so good. It would make a great story. However, I couldn't seem to get the story to come to me. I couldn't think of how to write it, of what I could do with it. It was one of those where it's like, 'I would definitely read this story, but how on earth am I supposed to write this story?' kind of thing. However, after sitting down at my computer and opening up the Word document, words just started to flow. I just started typing, without even really thinking about what I was going to write or say, or who my character was or anything. I just let the words come, and this is what came out. Hope you enjoy it.
Prompt: Your friend is 19 and accused of murder. You have all the evidence you need to prove her innocent, because you are the murderer. Don’t judge. You don’t know my story. And can you honestly tell me you would have done something different? I only did what had to be done. The law wasn’t doing anything, it was fighting in favor of the criminal. I knew I had to do something. I didn’t mean to kill anyone, well, not at first. It wasn’t my intent to kill him, it just kind of happened. Crime of passion I guess you could say. I was there, he was there, I confronted him, things got heated, and the next thing I knew, he was laying there, facing up toward the sky, dead, a pool of blood making a pillow around his head. I hadn’t meant to kill him. I just shoved him, a little too hard, I guess, because he fell, cracking his head open, and he was dead. I admit, I freaked. I ran, and I pulled a Lady Macbeth. I tried scrubbing the blood away, but nothing I did seemed to get rid of it, so instead of trying to hide it, and run from what I did, I embraced it. I figured I was a murderer, I might as well embrace it, and use that ill turn of fate into something good. I started killing the people who deserved it, the ones who were escaping punishment because of the way the system was set up. I was the one to dish out their sentences. I didn’t mean for Marissa to get hurt. I didn’t mean for her to be accused of the things that I was doing. The guy had hurt her, so I had to hurt him. I dressed up like her, and I killed him. I must have been careless, because they found some fibers, and after talking to some people the police decided that she had enough motive to do it. It didn’t take long for the police to realize that the same person had committed the other murders before and after the man, and so, they just placed the blame on Marissa. She was arrested. Things were looking worse and worse for her. I alone knew that it wasn’t her, that she wouldn’t do such a thing. I even had evidence. I knew where she was at the time of all the murders, after all, we were roommates, and if I came home looking like a lunatic she was bound to ask questions, and I didn’t want her to walk up on it and see what I was doing, so I made sure that she was as far away as possible from the murders before they happened. I could tell them all details that she couldn’t, I had everything in my power to try and stop it. She was only 19, after all, and I would hate for her to have her life ruined, especially when she had her whole life ahead of her. But, I wasn’t much older than her. I too, am only a 19 year old. I too still had my life ahead of me. I was simply giving justice, or karma, or God, or fate, or destiny, or whatever you like to call it, a helping hand. I tried to think up a way to pin it on someone, someone I knew deserved it, someone who was on my list to kill. I had to make it look convincing. After studying the legal system, I knew exactly how to work the system. This would be child’s play. I could get Marissa off the hook, and keep myself out of the line of fire, and I would make this guy pay, it was like killing three birds with one stone, which sounded good to me. So I did just that. He went to prison. He’s serving a life in prison, no chance of parol. Marissa is doing fine. She is working through her trauma, has gotten her life back. She’s a success story. Me, well, I guess I’m doing just fine. Still in the business of bringing justice to those who manage to escape the law, but I’m much more cautious now. In fact, I’m the best. I’m a shadow. No one sees me coming, no one knows where I’ll be. I make a nice little living too. Yep, I guess I’m doing just fine. Prompt: Pack your things and get out.
He looked at her. They had been trying to recover at Carol’s house. They had gotten even closer to each other outside of their hostage situation, yet he could feel Gabriella pulling away from him. It worried him. “What’s going on?” Gregory asked. “Nothing,” Gabriella pushed away from him. “That’s not nothing. What do you need, what do you want?” Gabriella thought about it for a minute, “I want you to pack your things and get out.” “What?” Gregory asked. “I want you to pack your things and get out,” she said more firmly. “But why?” “I just, I can’t do this anymore. We just need some space. We’re constantly underneath each other’s feet. So, either you pack and get out, or I will,” Gabriella said with a shrug. |
Skye BallantyneI am very excited to welcome you to my blog! Hope you enjoy! Categories |