My reaction to today's prompt was inspired by Remember Sunday, and 50 First Dates. It is about a girl who lost her ability to make new memories. I personally think that would be extremely difficult. Memory loss has always been scary for me, but at least with loss of old memories it would be easier to move on and make a new life for yourself. With the inability to make new memories it would be extremely difficult to make a new life for yourself. It would be a frightening experience. Prompt: Tears streamed down her face as she watched the diary burn. She yawned and rolled over, pushing her face deeper into the pillow. She didn’t want to wake up. Didn’t want to do anything really. She just needed five more minutes of sleep and she would be ready to cope with reality. The phone began ringing off the hook, causing her to groan and push herself up onto her elbow. “Hello,” she said groggily. “Hi Mary,” Bess whispered into the phone. “Oh Bess said, hi,” Mary said, her former grogginess disappeared and she sat full upright in her bed, “You’re up early.” “I know. I wasn’t feeling too well,” Mary said, “I woke up in an unfamiliar apartment and saw the note telling me to call you.” In a calm and soothing voice she explained the whole situation to Bess. Bess had been a senior in college when she had been attacked. She had severe brain injuries that, while she could remember things of the past, she was unable to make new memories. Every day she woke up thinking that it was the day of her attack. Mary was used to getting random phone calls from Bess wanting to discuss things she had read in her journal that she had kept ever since the accident in order to keep herself moving forward instead of staying stuck in the past. “Are you ok?” Mary asked, Bess was having a harder time coping with this than she had before. “Yeah,” Mary said hesitantly. “No, you’re not.” “Ok, fine,” Bess said, “Have I ever mentioned a Jack to you?” “No,” Mary said, curious as to where this was going. “Well, for the past few months I’ve written about this Jack guy,” Bess said, Mary could hear the rustling of pages and knew that she was flipping through the diary pages. Apparently Bess and Jack had been dating pretty steadily for the past few months. She had no recollection of him, but she wrote lovingly of him throughout her diaries. Yet, there was no note in her diary of her telling him about her condition. “Well, you haven’t mentioned him to me before, so I don’t have any idea what you have or haven’t said to him.” “Ok,” Bess sighed, “I think that this….this thing we have, is pretty serious, and I have to be fair to him. I have to tell him about all of this.” Bess hung up the phone. She took a deep breath. She had to tell Jack, and soon. She picked up the phone once again and dialed Jack’s number before she could chicken out. “Bess?” Jack’s groggy voice answered, “What’s going on? Is something wrong?” “No,” Bess said, sorry for not waiting, she hadn’t been thinking about the time, “I mean I’m fine. I just need to talk to you.” “Talk about what?” Jack asked. “It’s not something that can really be done on the phone. Can we meet in person?” “Yeah,” Jack said, she could hear the confusion in his voice, “Sure. Where would you like to meet?” “How about my place? In an hour?” “Yeah. Sure, I’ll be right there.” Bess heard a click as he hung up the phone. Bess held the phone up to her face for a moment longer. She didn’t want to hang up the phone yet. It was a calming influence on her, to hold the phone in her hand. By the time she finally got around to hanging up the phone Jack was at her door, knocking. “So?” Jack asked without preamble as she answered the door. “Do you want to come in?” Bess ushered him into her apartment. Jack breezed past her and plopped down on the couch, relaxing one leg on his knee in the fashion only guys can pull off. Bess’ eyes widened. She wasn’t sure what was going on. How could she like such a guy as this? He was abrupt and didn’t seem to know any of the social conventions. So far he wasn’t making such a good impression. “I have a confession to make,” Bess said, sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, rubbing her hands on her thighs as she did. “Go on,” Jack said. She took a deep breath, and explained the whole situation. Jack sat there in silence for a full five minutes after she finished explaining everything. Then he stood up and walked out of the apartment. Bess walked to her phone, her fingers dialing Mary’s so fast they were practically smoking. “I think he broke up with me,” Bess said the moment Mary answered. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry.” Mary sat on the phone while Bess cried her eyes out. That night Mary came over to Bess’ apartment and they had a bonfire for all of Jack’s stuff. Bess cried as she threw her diary onto the fire. It would only hurt for the rest of the night. In the morning she would have no recollection of Jack. Thank you for reading. Go on over to Torri's blog.
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Today is an interesting prompt. I really liked writing about it, and I hope you liked reading it too.
Prompt: Someone you know barges through your front door and says: “Whatever happens, whoever comes knocking, I’ve been here for at least an hour.” I was just in the middle of watching the season finale of my favorite show when my best friend, Christa came barging in through the door. I glanced up. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to have her coming in and out of my apartment, she was so comfortable with it that you would think that she lived there instead of me. Still, even with her comings and goings, she knew better than to interrupt during Reincarnated Love. “Christa,” I said, I didn’t even try to hide the aggravation in my voice. “Laura!” Christa said, almost in surprise that I was sitting, in my own apartment, in my own living room, watching my favorite show, on my TV. Who would have guessed? “Christa!” I said again, this time with impatience. I glanced back at the TV screen. They were kissing! Oh my goodness, they were kissing! They were kissing, and Christa was here staring at me like I was an alien who had no right to be in my own apartment. I had no idea as to what led up to the kiss, if this was going to be a one-time thing, or was it going to be a continuous thing! Dang Christa! She should have known better than to do this to me. “Ok, listen,” Christa said, slipping onto the couch next to me, “Whatever happens, whoever comes knocking, I’ve been here for at least an hour.” “Um…why?” I asked, my mind torn between my TV show and my best friend. Just at that time there was a knock on the door. Christa looked at me in panic. As I got to my feet to answer the door her eyes begged me, pleaded for me, to do what she asked of me. “Please,” she whispered, leaning over the back of the chair to look at me, “I’ll explain everything later, please just say I’ve been here for at least an hour.” I rolled my eyes and jerked the front door open. There, standing on my front porch were two uniformed police officers, and two guys, whom I figured as detectives in suits and ties. I froze for a minute, uncertain of what I was supposed to do now. I had never had the police come to my door before. “Hello, ma’am,” the older detective asked, he pulled out his badge and showed it to me, “We are looking for a Christa Roberts. Do you happen to know where she is?” “Yes,” I nodded my head slowly, “She’s inside,” I gestured into my apartment. “Great,” the other detective said, “May we come in and ask a few questions?” “I guess….” I said hesitantly. The officers brushed past me and into my apartment. “Christa Roberts?” the older detective says. “Yes,” Christa answered. “We have some questions for you.” “Of course,” she was so calm. How could she be so calm? I was freaking out. I was shaking so hard I looked like a spasmodic, and yet here she was sitting like she was having afternoon tea. “Where were you from 5:00 until now?” “I was here,” Christa didn’t even miss a beat. “Is that true?” one of the officers asked me, looking over to where I was still standing by the door. “What?” I asked, breaking out of my reverie. “Was Christa here from 5:00 until now?” “Um,” I said, trying to calm myself, “Yes. That’s correct. She was here. We were watching Reincarnated Love. It’s our favorite show, and we never miss an episode. She came over early in order to have dinner and make some snackage before the show started…..We have huge sweet tooths, so there was a lot of baking to do….” I was rambling and I knew it, but once I opened my mouth I couldn’t stop talking, it was like a physical impossibility for me. “Thank you,” the older officer said, cutting my ramblings off, which was great for me, because I had no idea what else I would say if I was allowed to continue to talk. “May I ask what this is all about?” Christa asked. “There was a death about an hour ago. We are looking into that death,” the officer explained, “There was a witness who said that someone fitting Ms. Roberts description was there at the time of death.” “Well that’s ridiculous,” Christa said, “I would never miss Reincarnated Love.” “What was last week’s episode about?” one of the uniformed officers said. “Um….” Christa looked blankly. She only watched Reincarnated Love when I forced her to watch it with me. She wasn’t with me last week, so she wouldn’t have seen it. Our lie was going up in smoke. “They were in London. There was a huge incident between Queen Mary and Lady Jane. She was on Mary’s side, and he was on Jane’s side. They got in a huge argument over it,” I blurted out. “Thank you,” the officer said with a nod, “But I was asking Ms. Roberts, not you.” I nodded my head guiltily. “They argued,” Christa jumped in, “Mary ordered Jane’s beheading, and that threw an even bigger wrench into their relationship. It ended with Jane’s death.” My eyes widened. I was impressed. It was pretty spot on. The doctor’s looked at each other. They seemed appeased with her what she said, and they left the apartment. “Ok,” I said, slipping back on my couch, “Tell me everything.” “Well,” Christa said, “The guy who died, he was the guy I was going on a blind date with. He was a total jerk off. Anyway, I threw wine in his face and stormed out of the restaurant. That was it. I swear. However, as I was leaving he had a heart attack or something. Apparently they think it was poison and that I was the one who poisoned him.” “You didn’t did you?” I asked. Christa turned back to look at the screen where the final scene of Reincarnated Love was playing, and she popped some popcorn in her mouth, refusing to answer my question. What do you think? Did Christa poison him? Does she not want to talk? Or is she hurt that her friend would ask such a thing? You tell me. Thanks for reading. Now, go over and read Torri's blog. Today's post is fairly short, not because I didn't like the prompt, but because it is. Sometimes a story needs to run pages and pages, and other times a story only needs one, or half of one, or needs to be made into a poem or a song instead. That's ok. It doesn't make it any less of a story. It is still as important as the novels, it's just wrapped up in a different packaging. So even though it is short, I hope you still give it the appreciation that it deserves.
Prompt: Write something that begins with a character throwing a coin into a fountain. Alexis rubbed the quarter vigorously. George Washington’s face had almost been completely rubbed off because of her thumbs attention to the coin. She had tried everything else, what could a wish in a fountain hurt? She took a deep breath, and closing her eyes she kissed the coin lovingly before she flicked it toward the fountain. It soared through the air, arching gracefully. It was going to make a satisfying plink in the water when it landed. As it got closer and closer to the water, Alexis held her breath. In a flash, a hand reached out, grabbing the quarter, and stopping it from entering the water. “Hey,” Alexis shouted, releasing her breath, “What on earth do you think you’re doing?” “I’m saving you 25 cents,” the man said with a smug smirk on his face. “It’s my 25 cents and I can use it how I see fit,” Alexis threw back, reaching to grab the quarter out of the man’s hand. He jerked his hand, with the quarter enclosed, out of Alexis’ reach. His eyes lit up with amusement as she tried to get the quarter back, but was too short to reach out and grab it. “Throwing coins into a fountain never works. They are just as much of a joke as 11:11, eyelash, and shooting star wishes. Pleading your wish to these entities doesn’t do anything but make you look like a fool.” “I don’t care,” Alexis said, she stamped her foot, making her seem real mature, “Give me back my quarter.” “I don’t think I can do that,” the man said, “Since it seems like you don’t know how to spend your money wisely enough, therefore, I will have to take this quarter to prevent you from doing anything stupid with it.” Alexis wanted to punch that smug look off that man’s face. She wanted to hit him so hard that his great-great-grandchildren would feel it. However, not one to be able to throw a punch that would do much more than amuse the arrogant jerk, she stuck to shoving him backwards instead. She hadn’t thought she had shoved him that hard, but the next thing she knew, he was losing his balance. His arms waved in frantic circles in a desperate attempt to regain his balance, but did nothing more than make him look like a drunk trying out a windmill impression. He landed with a satisfying splash into the fountain, sending up a spray that soaked everyone within a few feet of the fountain. With a smug smile of her own, Alexis wiped the water from her face and walked away. She had sent a quarter, a person, and how many coins he had on him, into a fountain, maybe, just maybe that would be enough to make her wish come true. You may ask, what is the wish she threw a man into a fountain for? Time....she has cancer and wants more time. I had a really fun time throwing the man into the fountain :), I imagine it was as satisfying as throwing Darcy into a fountain would be..... if you couldn't tell I'm not a Darcy fan. (Biggest understatement in the history of the world. :p) Well, hope you enjoyed it, maybe you can think of your nemesis getting thrown into a fountain when you read it. Now don't forget to go over to Torri's blog and see how she took today's prompt. When you think of a Southern Belle, the person who most comes to mind is.... Scarlet O'Hara.....right? Well, I didn't quite write about her, but same basic time period anyway. Hope you enjoy it.
Prompt: A strong willed, elegant Southern Belle who works as an assassin for or against the forces of darkness. “Oh the heat,” Lauralie said, waving her hand halfheartedly in front of her face in an attempt to keep herself cool. “I hope it’ll be better for the ball tomorrow,” Cora said, waving her hand in order to summon a slave to fan them. The ball was the biggest talk of the town. Everyone who was anyone was invited to this party. It was the only thing that the girls would talk about for weeks. It was starting to give Cora a headache. She couldn’t stand the girls’ of the town’s obsession with the party. She was looking forward to it, but for a totally different reason than all the other girls. The girls just wanted to talk about dresses, hairstyles, and the attractive men who would be there. She had a target. For the last few years she had in the employ of the darkest creatures that ever roamed the earth. She would hunt down the light creatures and bring them down. She had never looked forward to a target as much as she did as the target she was hired for tomorrow night. His name was Ashleigh. He was a blond haired, blue eyed, bronzed beauty of their little southern town. Every girl loved Ashleigh. They would swoon whenever he would look their way, and would practically die of happiness if he ever asked them to dance. Whoever he decided to date would be skyrocketed to the belle of the town, and would be the envy of everyone surrounding her. It made Cora’s stomach curdle at the mere thought of it. She hated how shallow the people of the town were, and looked forward to bringing down Ashleigh. His death would bring the monsters that much closer to breaking free and taking over the world. The ball was going in full force by the time Cora’s family finally arrived at the party. They always arrived late, making sure that they could flaunt off their dresses in view of everyone who was going to attend the party. They thrived on the limelight. Cora went through the usual rounds of greetings, and making small talk, biting her tongue to keep from screaming at the absurdity of what was going on. After hours, she was finally able to make her escape. She was lucky to find Ashleigh walking around the gardens, alone. It was time to make her move. “Such sweltering heat,” Cora said, pasting a smile on her face, “You must be dying of thirst,” she offered him a glass of punch. “Well, thank you,” Ashleigh said, with a smile that usually sent a woman down in a swoon of giddiness. “No problem,” Cora smiled back, “After all, we can’t allow the most eligible bachelor die of thirst, now can we?” “No, no we can’t,” Ashleigh raised the punch to his lips and took a sip. He offered the punch back to her, she declined politely. There was no way she was going to drink what was in that glass. Ashleigh’s face started going bright red and he began to cough. He stared accusingly at Cora as he dropped his glass, sending the liquid and glass all over the walkway. “What did you do?” he managed to choke out. “Took you out of the picture,” she said, happily. “What do you mean?” “You are an agent to the light. With you out of the way, the path is paved for the dark to take control of earth, and wipe this little town out of history. Thank goodness.” “You….You….Have….No….idea…..,” Ashleigh said, trying to spit something out, but was unable to finish what he was going to say before he collapsed to the ground in agony. Cora smiled happily. With her mission complete, she headed calmly back to the ball, leaving the body to be found by some other unsuspecting soul. Half an hour later, screams rang like music to her ears. While all the other guests ran outside to find out what the commotion was about, she strolled out of the front gate, to meet her boss. “Mission complete,” she said. The wind blew around her, sweeping at her skirts and tugging at her hair. The monsters were going to be released. She was victorious. Well, thank you for reading. Go on over to Torri's blog to see what she said about today's prompt. I had many ways this could have gone.... I bounced all of them around and around in my head since I got the prompt, trying to figure out which one to do. All of them happened to involve the same character, Hunter, although in different situations. I started writing one of the ideas, but it fell flat, and it just didn't work, it wasn't the right place, or the right time, so I tried a new idea, but the same thing happened. Finally I decided to just write, not think, just write. I let Hunter do the work for me. This is the story that he wanted to tell.
Prompt: I’m not afraid to die. The room was dark, even though outside the sun was shining with the full glory of an afternoon sun. The whole room felt stuffy, like it had been closed off from the real world for far too long. Hunter took a deep breath. He hadn’t been in there since Cara had been confined there. He couldn’t face it. Hadn’t wanted to face it. It wasn’t as if he was afraid of death. He had been too close to it to be afraid. He had walked on the edge of living and dying, had seen people die, had even done some of the killing himself, yet this was different. This wasn’t death on a battlefield, or in the course of duty. This was death by one’s own body. It didn’t feel right. A person’s body shouldn’t just give up on them like that. It was supposed to be strong, and carry them through battle where they could die with dignity, or at least carry them to a ripe old age where they could die knowing they had lived a full life. It shouldn’t shut down on them when they were only in their late forties. “Hunter,” Cara said weakly from the bed, “I was wondering if you’d come to see me.” “Of course I would come,” Hunter said, striding quickly over to the bedside. “Thank you,” Cara smiled sadly. She knew far too well the sacrifice he had made to come to the room. She knew the fear he was feeling, and the pain that would rip through him when she passed on. She had felt the same way when her mother had died, leaving her alone. True, she wasn’t truly his mother. His real mother was alive and well, living in the palace as Mara’s assistant. No, she hadn’t given birth to him, but she had raised him as her own while he was young. It had been her, and not his mother who saw him grow into the man he was today. “Of course,” Hunter said, not really certain what Cara was thanking him for. “I know how hard this must be for you,” tears were silently slipping down her face. Hunter took her hand in his own as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “You are still so young, and you have dealt with far more than anyone should have to,” Cara paused to breathe, “I want you to know that I am so proud of you. I love you like a son,” she reached the hand Hunter wasn’t holding, out to stroke his cheek and ruffle his hair, a gesture he had long grown out of, but he didn’t try and stop her. “You’re going to be fine,” Hunter whispered. “No, sweetie,” Cara was one of the three people who could actually get away with giving him endearments like that, “I’m dying. I’ve accepted that fact, and you need to, too.” “No,” Hunter shook his head. “I’m not afraid to die,” Cara said gently, “I’ll be able to see Karlisean again, and your father, and my parents. Death isn’t the end. It’s just the beginning of a new adventure,” she had told him that as a young child trying to cope with the loss of his family, it seemed fitting that she’d say the same thing now, “It’s going to be ok. I’m not truly going to leave you. I’ll just be somewhere else, watching over you.” Hunter couldn’t speak. None of this was right. He couldn’t be losing her. They sat in silence for a long time. “I love you,” Cara finally said, breaking the silence, “And I always will.” “I love you to, Mom,” it wasn’t very often Hunter called anyone mom, but surprisingly the word didn’t hang awkwardly in the air like he thought it would. It felt natural, like it belonged right there between the two of them. “I know you do, Hunter,” Cara said, “And I know I can trust you to watch out for the others and keep them safe. I couldn’t be more proud of you if you were my own son,” tears were now streaming down both of their faces, “Take care.” As Cara struggled to sit up, Hunter bent over, placing his head right in front of her face. She pecked him on the cheek. The kiss was so feathery light that it was almost no existent. As the kiss ended, so did Cara’s energy. Her head fell back onto her pillow, and her hand went limp inside of Hunter’s. As Cara’s chest went still, Hunter released her hand. She was gone. His mother was dead. He fled the room. The stares of the servants and dwellers of the house didn’t bother him as he raced past them in his way to escape. Carrie saw him and was about to bolt out after him before Felicia grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Felicia shook her head firmly. He needed time, alone. In order to heal, he must first be allowed to grieve. Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I love my World Beyond characters so much, and I always love when they come to talk to me, especially now that a new group is melding in with them. It's great to see how they work together and help each other out. If you have any questions about any of the characters from the World Beyond, or Civilization Found, just let me know. I'd be more than willing to talk to you about them.... Thanks for reading! Don't forget to go over to Torri's blog at: romanticfreak4life.weebly.com to see how she took today's prompt. So, I am writing a trilogy with my friends, Torri and Shaylei. The characters are con people. You've already met Ryan, one of the characters, on one of Torri's blog posts. Well, here is another character. This scene comes from this trilogy. Hope you enjoy it.
Prompt: She brushed her skirt, took a deep breath, and walked toward him. This is what she had been training for, for months now. She had never been the dog before. She was the behind the scenes kind of girl. She excelled at being the wheelbarrow, car, thimble, top hat, etc. Having little interaction with the actual clients had made it seem less real, less of an issue. She could pretend that they weren’t doing anything wrong, but actually having to come face to face and be involved with the actual client made her feel dirty. It made what they were doing seem wrong, or at least pushed her guilt to the forefront of her mind where she was unable to squash it. Ryan, who usually did this job, was nearby. She was going to walk Skye through the entire process. Everything should be fine. It was a funky town, hardly any risks at all. She could do this. The man was approaching the rendezvous spot. It was time to shine. “There he is,” Ryan’s excitement causing her to go into a coughing fit. “Ok,” Charles said into the earpiece, “This is it. Time to shine. Show me what you’ve got Skye.” Skye got wobbly to her feet, brushed off her skirt, and took a deep breath. With a confidence that she didn’t feel, she walked toward him. ‘It’s ok. You can do this,’ Skye repeated over and over in her head, ‘Charles has taught you well. You know you can do this. It’s just a job. It’s just a job.’ “Hello,” Skye said, with a smile pasted on her lips, “You must be Alex Donahugh.” Her stomach was clenched and twisting into weird shapes. It amazed her that she didn’t lose her breakfast right on the man’s shoes. “Yes,” the man confirmed, “You must be Liberty, from the agency?” A sneeze followed by a nose blowing from Ryan momentarily threw Skye off balance, making her forget that she went by Liberty, not Skye, while she was on a con job. “N…Nelson,” Skye said the first last name that started with an N she could think of, “Liberty Nelson, yes that is me.” Luckily they hadn’t given him her last name. Still, the mistake caused her to internally tremble and get filled with guilt and shame. It didn’t help matters that she could hear Charles’ sudden intake of breath and change of breathing patterns at her screw up. She hadn’t been the dog for more than five minutes and already she was screwing things up. This was hopeless. “Well, Liberty Nelson,” Alex smiled, “Shall we get down to business?” “Yes,” Skye said, giving her a mental shake in order to get her head back in the game, “Of course, let’s get started.” As they explored the building he was going to buy they got to talking. He explained what he wanted to buy, and as he talked he brought in his hopes and dreams. He was full of passion in his dreams and what he hoped to accomplish. His face grew bright as he talked about it. His whole body exuded his excitement for this start of a new journey that he was about to take. With each word, each gesture, Skye felt her stomach drop further down and begin to twist tighter and tighter, making her physically uncomfortable. She tried not to squirm, but she couldn’t help it. “That’s why you guys came at such a perfect time. It’s like fate!” Alex said. At that moment he reminded her so much of Ryan that all she wanted to do was get up and run away. She was going to be sick. This was wrong. Everything they were doing was wrong. She tried to control her breathing. It wouldn’t do to look nervous or suspicious. “I’m glad we can help,” Skye said, forcing another smile on her face. She had to do this. There wasn’t another choice. In order to protect her and her friend’s lives, she would have to destroy this man’s. Skye pulled out the paperwork from her briefcase and grabbed a pen. Alex took it without hesitation, and not even reading it, he signed the paperwork back into her face. Skye made a big show of looking over the paperwork, making sure everything was filled out. This was the job that she was good at. She knew how to take care of this. “Well, it looks like everything’s in order,” Skye smiled, replacing the papers, “I will push these through was quickly as possible. Everything should be set and ready for you to move in by the end of the month.” “Really?” Alex said, in happy disbelief, “You can get it done that fast?” “It’s our specialty,” Skye assured him, “Our clients are very busy people, we try to move fast so that they can move on with their busy lives.” “Wow,” Alex shook his head, “Well thank you. I really appreciate it.” “Any time,” Skye said, swallowing the bile that was rising in her throat. They shook hands, and Skye wobbled out of the building. It was done. She had just ruined a man’s life. If you enjoyed this post, then you'll love the story that we're writing. Hopefully someday you'll be able to buy this book and read it there. As always, I would like to thank you guys for reading, and don't forget to head on over to Torri's blog and see her take. We really appreciate the support. Thanks! We all dream of getting rich, and having all the money you could ever want. We all have dreams for the moment when you win the jackpot, or you land that big fancy job that will mean you have no more financial worries. Well, these are my dreams of what I would do with the money.
Prompt: Show Me the Money: You just landed a huge contract- like one of the stars on The Big Bang Theory or Friends….who wouldn’t have fun with that?! What are the first things you would buy? For yourself or someone else? Why? What is your wish list if you ever had a windfall? I can’t believe it! I actually got this huge contract! I would be rich! I would be able to do anything I wanted, whenever I wanted! It was the best day of my life. There were so many things that I wanted to do with that money, where would I start? First I would pay off my student loans. Get them out of the way so that I wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore. After that big money sucker was taken care of, I would help the rest of my family with their financial struggles and get them out of debt. I don’t want to go into my new life with a load of debt hanging over my head, and I love my family to pieces. I don’t want to see them have to struggle, not if I am able to do something about it. Once all of the debt was taken care of, it would be time to be helpful in another way. I would spend some more of the money setting up two different houses. One of them would be a place where kids who were aging out of the foster care system could go after they aged out. It would give them a soft place to land, a place to live for a while, while they tried to get back on their feet. It will help them through the process of finding schools, jobs, apartments, financial aid, etc., all the things that a parent would normally help with. It would be a safe place for them. There would also be another house. This house would also be for kids. This time, however, it would be for children in families who are in the foster care or trying to get adopted. It would be a place where these kids could stay together as a family while they waited for a family to take them all in and adopt them all. It would also be a help in helping the people trying to adopt the families in the system. Once those houses were up and running, I would be a little business savvy. I would spend some money to set up a bed and breakfast. It would be more of a retreat type of bed and breakfast rather than being a tourist set up. There would be weeks for yoga retreats, writing retreats, and all kinds of retreats. It will be decorated in different elements: water, fire, earth, and air. It would be called Inn Your Element. Now, my list isn’t just filled with building houses and things like that. I would also buy myself a car, and a place for me to live. I would use it to buy books. I could spend everything on books and still not have enough money to get all the books that I want to have. I would spend it on toys and clothes for my nieces and nephews. I would use the money to take my family, especially my mom, on a trip to Scotland. Then I would take her back to Victoria, Canada where we once vacationed. I’d spend the money to travel and see all the places I’ve wanted to see. I would make sure that I saved some of my money, in case something happens and I no longer have the contract, I will still be able to live comfortably while looking for another job. I have big plans for what I would want to do with the money if I ever got a windfall. I hope that you enjoyed reading them, and maybe it inspired you to what you want to do if you ever got a magical windfall. Why don't you tell me? What would you do if you had the money to do it? If you could truly do whatever you wanted, buy whatever you wanted, what would you do, buy, see? Now go on to Torri's blog and see what she would do with her magical windfall. Thanks for reading. Everyone dreams of their soulmate. Who are they? What do they look like? What are they like in general? It's a beautiful dream we all think of; dream about, even if we don't realize it. We all truly want to find the one for us. The "perfect" person. Our soulmate. Well, what would happen if not only they found a way to find your soulmate, but you would be told, on your 18th birthday, what their first words to you would be?
Prompt: On everyone’s 18th birthday they wake up with a tattoo of what their soul mate will first say to them. My friend Stacy was lucky. Her tattoo read: Hi, my name is Jason Barker. Others weren’t so lucky, they simply got a ‘Hi’ or ‘Hey’. It could be anyone who ever had or ever would say hi to them. Me, I wasn’t lucky at all. The day of my 18th birthday rolled around and I woke up in anticipation. I immediately went to check my wrist where everyone else’s tattoos showed up on their 18th birthdays. Nothing. My heart plummeted to the floor. There was absolutely nothing on my wrist. No writings, no tattoos, not even a simple ‘hello.’ This couldn’t be happening. There had to be something on my wrist. There had to be a tattoo. I jumped up from my bed and ran to the bathroom, and searched the rest of my body, hoping that for some reason my tattoo got put in a different place. Still nothing. I had no tattoo. “Mom!!” I shouted, “Mom!!!” My mom came running to my aid. “What?” she asked. “Mom, I don’t have a tattoo.” “What?” she asked, momentarily perplexed. The whole tattoo showing up when you turned 18 was a relatively new technology. “The tattoo,” I said, expectantly, “The one that’s supposed to tell me what my soulmate is going to say to me when we first meet.” “Oh honey,” my mom said, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a hug, “Maybe it’s just late…..maybe it’ll show up later today.” “It’s never late,” I explain, “All my friends had their tattoos on their wrists the morning they woke up on their 18th birthday. That is always the case. Always,” I pull away from the embrace. “Honey, I’m sure it’s nothing.” I knew my mother was trying to be helpful, but it wasn’t helping. I ran to my room and threw myself onto my bed, sobbing. This couldn’t be happening. I was going to be alone forever. I had no soulmate. Nobody would ever love me. I could feel my heart breaking into a million pieces. “Hey girl,” Stacy said, walking into my room without my notice. “Hey,” I sniffed, pushing myself upright in bed. She didn’t have to say more to me. She walked right over to me and wrapped her arms around me and let me cry into her shoulder. She didn’t say a word. She was just a shoulder to lean on while I poured my heart out into my tears. “Hey, why don’t we go to the tattoo soulmate place and talk to them?” Stacy asked after I had finished sobbing my eyes out. “What?” I asked, wiping my eyes. “Yeah, we can just go talk to them. We can figure out why you don’t have a tattoo.” I agreed immediately. Moments later we rushed to the car and drove to the soulmate tattoo place and stormed through the doors. “May I help you?” the man at the front desk asked. “Yeah, it’s my 18th birthday,” I said, walking to the desk, “I didn’t receive my tattoo this morning.” I wasn’t even done talking when the man turned toward the computer and started typing things into the database. He waved his wand over me to confirm my identity. “Well, it says here that you are not 18 yet,” he said, looking at the computer rather than at me. “What do you mean? Of course I’m 18. I think I know my own birthday.” “Well, the computer is saying that you were born September 7, not September 1.” “What?” I asked. This couldn’t happen to me. What was going on? Somebody was lying to me, and I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that it was my parents and not the computer. Why would my parents hide that from me? Why would they pretend that my birthday was on a different day? I raced home, slamming the door behind me. My parents came out of the kitchen and stared at me. "You lied to me! Why did you lie to me?" "Why don't you sit down," my father asked. I sat, and waited. "We had been trying so hard to have a child, and that hadn't happened. We were getting frustrated," my mother jumped in. "No!" my parents said. "We would never do that," my mother said, "We found you in a dumpster. It felt like a sign. Instead of taking you to the police we took you home, pretending that we had adopted you." I stormed out of the house and began to run. I didn’t care where I was going. I just ran. I admit I wasn’t thinking about where I was going. I ran right into oncoming traffic and got hit by a bus. I was in a coma for a week. When I woke up I looked at my wrist. There, written in swirling letters were the words: ‘Hey, you don’t know me, but I wanted to make sure that you were ok.’ A smile spread across my face as I stared at my wrist. A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. “Come in,” I said, giving myself a mental shake. “Hey,” the man had a smile that spread across his entire face, I was surprised that it didn’t split his face, “You don’t know me, but I wanted to make sure that you were ok.” My head spun in circles. I felt transported to a new dimension and then got thrown back into the real one. It was all too much. The edges of my vision went black momentarily. “Whoa,” the man said, rushing to my side, “Are you alright?” “Yeah,” I croaked, “I’m fine. Absolutely fine,” I smiled weakly back. His smile got even wider than it had been before. His entire face glowed with delight. I had never seen anyone look so perfect. I couldn’t help but smile back. I had found my soulmate. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. What do you think about soulmates? Do they exist? Have you found your 'soulmate'? What are your thoughts? Go on over to Torri's blog and see what she has to say. With this prompt, it wasn't originally the way I saw it going. As I started writing, it just kind of came out. So I hope you enjoy it, and maybe help someone out there who needs to hear it.
Prompt: She wrapped her body in the old, crocheted blankets and pretended to be anywhere but here. The room was freezing and was steadily getting colder. She didn’t dare turn on the heat, didn’t even know if it would work anyway, and her last attempt at starting a fire had nearly burned down the house. When her body began to spasm with the cold she knew she had to do something. She got up and picked up the old blanket from the couch. It looked awful, full of stains that she didn’t even want to think about, and filled with dust from lack of use. Still, the cold she felt outweighed her disgust of the blanket, she wrapped the old, crocheted blanket around herself. As the dust and mothball smell assaulted her nose she pretended to be somewhere else. Anywhere would be better than the dilapidated building she was in now. The whole place was falling down around her ears. The place stank of neglect and mold. The wallpaper had long fallen off the walls and the floorboards were warped with the moisture that had seeped into the old house. What little furniture not eaten away by moths and termites, sagged in odd places and had stains she prayed were just water damage and not something more disturbing. As her shivering continued she thought back to the moments that lead up to her being stuck in the middle of nowhere. Things had been fine, until her mother decided to remarry. She had never liked the man. He was too sly looking. In her mind, he looked like a snake and was total slime. Her mother, however, adored him. She couldn’t see anything wrong with him and took her daughter’s dislike of him as teenage rebellion, or not wanting to share her mother with someone. As the wedding got closer she couldn’t take it any longer. She had given her mother an ultimatum. It was either her or him; naturally her mother laughed it off, effectively choosing him. The girl had no choice but to make good her threat and run away. She didn’t really think things through very well. She didn’t have a plan at all really. She didn’t know where she was going to go, or what she planned on doing when she got there, or even how she would be able to survive on her own. Her lack of planning caused her to find herself alone, in a town she didn’t recognize with no one to call for help, and no cash available. She wound up falling in with the wrong crowd through simple proximity. They got her hooked on drugs and that was an expensive habit, leading her down the road of prostitution in order to pay for it. Things were spiraling down fast, but it was a security blanket that she wasn’t willing to give up. It wasn’t until she found out she was pregnant that she realized she needed to get out of there. So once again she ran from life, and managed by sheer luck to find this place. The thought of the house made her draw the blankets closer around her, shivering with more than just the cold. Tears ran down her face. She didn’t want to be here. She had no idea what she was doing. She had no idea how to help herself. In a room full of oxygen she was suffocating. There was nothing she would have like more, than to go back home, but she couldn’t do that. She had burned that bridge the day she ran away from home. There was no going back now, not after everything she had done. Her mother probably hated her and would never want to see her again. Her entire thought process was confused and jumbled, unsure of anything. All she knew for certain was that she didn’t want her baby to grow up here or living on the streets. A few days later, after a false labor pain sent her to the hospital, she knew that she had no other choice but to go back home and hope that her mother would forgive her. She knocked on the door, tentatively. She was shaking so hard it was amazing that she was able to stand at all. Her mother opened the door, and stood staring at the girl for a full minute, uncertain of what she was supposed to do. Then, after the shock and worn off, she swooped the girl into an embrace. They held each other tightly, letting their tears fall onto the other’s shoulders. They would have a long way to go in order to heal, but for now, it was simply enough to be. Now go see Torri's blog. Thanks for reading. Remember there is always someone out there who cares for you and only wants the best for you. Don't be scared to reach out; people are there, ready to grab hold. You are loved. Due to the start of a new school year and my morning schedule, my blogs will probably start being posted later in the afternoon, at least Monday-Friday, rather than in the morning like I have normally been posting. Thanks for your understanding.
Prompt: With one look in his eyes, she told herself, “This is going to hurt when it’s over.” “Don’t touch me!” Sara screamed. “Will you shut up?” the man asked. “Get your dirty little mitts off of me!” Sara said instead. “I need you to shut up and listen!” the man hissed. Sara looked back at the man. His eyes were a deep, emerald green. You could see an entire world in those eyes. They were the type of eyes that a person could easily get lost in. She knew that she should pull away, to stop looking at them, but she couldn’t seem to be able to pull herself away. They were too enticing. “Thank you,” he said, relief evident in his voice. She soaked in the sight of him. He was perfect. His voice was deep, yet lilting in an almost magical manner. His hair was dark black and poked up in odd directions, that made him look endearing, like a child waking up from a nap. His smile, just like his hair, was childlike. It was wide and nearly split his face in two, in a way Sara had only ever seen on a child. Her heart melted. She could feel herself falling in love with him. ‘This is going to hurt when this is over,’ she thought to herself as the man helped her to her feet. “What’s your name?” Sara asked as he dragged her through the forest, following the leaders of the group. “It doesn’t matter,” the man said simply. The group shoved her into an abandoned cabin, leaving her there with only the childlike man to watch her every move and make sure that she wasn’t going anywhere. Each day she could feel herself falling in love with the man who was forced to watch her. He was kind, and gentle. Not at all like the gruff men that had grabbed her from her home in the middle of the night. “Do you need a blanket?” the man asked, bringing her, her lunch for the day. Sara looked hopefully up at him and nodded. She was freezing. The man disappeared, only to return minutes later with thin blanket that he wrapped around her shoulders. He had to have feelings for her too, she just knew it. In the ways that he did things. Bringing her blankets, slipping in different foods for her meals, his hands lingering on her shoulders when he gave her a blanket, his allowing her to roam free unless one of the men was going to come by, all of this had to mean something. The next day something in him changed. He looked worried, frazzled about something. She had never seen him look so upset. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “They’re coming for us,” he said. “Who’s coming for us? What do you mean?” “The police. They are coming after us. They are going to arrest us.” She had no idea what to do in this situation. “Come on!” he said impatiently. “What?” Sara asked dumbly. “We need to go. The people I work with are going to cut their losses. They’re going to kill you. We need to leave, now!” He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. They raced through the trees, they could hear the two men who had done the actual kidnapping chasing after them. A shot rang out. Sara heard the man give out a hiss of pain, and she knew something must have happened. “What happened?” she asked, forcing them to a stop. “I’ve been shot,” he said through gritted teeth, “It’s nothing, keep going.” “You’ve been hurt,” Sara said, “We have to get you some help.” “If you don’t leave, they are going to kill you! Now move!” he pushed her away from him. She hid in the trees and watched as the men beat the man who had been her guard and protector for months. When they had finished, they raced into the trees to find their missing girl. Meanwhile, she slipped out of the tress and rushed to where the man’s beaten body lay. “Are you ok?” Sara asked, tears in her eyes as she leaned over him. “Get out of here,” he gasped. “No, you’re hurt. We need to get you help.” “Leave now!” he said with as much effort as he could muster. “No,” she struggled to help him to his feet, but it was nearly impossible. She lay him back down and took his hand. She ran her fingers lightly over his bruised face. She stayed with him until he took his last breath. As the police arrived, she gave him a light kiss on his lips. She was right, it had hurt when it was over. Thank you for reading! Now go on over to Torri's blog to see how she took today's prompt. |
Skye BallantyneI am very excited to welcome you to my blog! Hope you enjoy! Categories |