Writing Prompt: Day 50

50 (2).jpgDay 50 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character finding out they are the chosen one.

Erin: “One of us has to go in first,” Bree worried looking at the woods. The trees looked so much less intimidating in the daylight.

“Do we,” I asked suspicious.

“Yes, I dropped my phone. I need to call my parents,” Lola reminded.

“Don’t you have your parent’s number memorized,” I felt a shiver. “You can borrow my phone.”

“No I don’t have it memorized, I have it in my phone,” she nearly started crying.

“Okay, okay,” Bree started to become ornery. “Just go we’ll help you find it.”

“I can’t go in first,” she shook her head. “I’m scared.”

“Well no shit,” I agreed. “But this is your phone,” I grumbled.

“I’m not in the right emotional state,” she said looking down to her feet.

“I guess since you two are a bunch of babies I will just lead the way,” Bree approached the entrance to the forest.

“Yes, you should,” Lola offered.

“I second that nomination,” I agreed.

Shannon: “What do you want,” the front secretary questioned with a feed up tone in her voice, after hanging up the phone.

“Yes um,” I stuttered as I walked up to her desk, “I received this letter ordering me to come here today,” I explained as I handed it over, “and that’s it. I don’t if it was a mistake, and I’m sorry if is, but I didn’t want to risk it.”

She looked it over and then looked at me over the top of her reading glasses. “No. No mistake. We’ve been waiting for you,” she smiled, no longer blatantly upset about my presence. “Take a seat. I’ll call Edwin,” she informed me and I did as I was told.

There were no good distractions to occupy my time, so I found myself examining the building. The room was full of stain glass windows and high, painted ceilings. It looked like a church, and before today I’d only ever seen it from the outside gate. Inside it looked old, like the past was being preserve for as long as it could last. I guess I expected something different from our Leader’s Headquarters.

“Keegan,” a man stood before me, interrupting my gazing. He had big, intimidating eyes that protruded out of his face, but at same time a toothy smile that made up for any uneasiness his appearance might invoke. “Nice to meet you,” he put out his hand and I stood up to shake it. “Come along now. There is no time to wait,” he directed me to follow him.

I followed without saying anything for a while, but as soon as we got into the stairway I couldn’t hold in my curiosity any longer. “Why am I here?”

“You are here for a very important reason,” Edwin answered as he kept walking.

“Can’t you tell me more than that? Is it a good reason? Am I in trouble?”

Edwin stopped and looked back. “No sir, you’re not in trouble. It’s just not safe to tell you here.”

I knew he wasn’t lying. I’d always been good at deciphering when a person was and was not telling the truth. I always thought there was something in me that allowed me to sense out the truth, like some kind of human polygraph. It always kept me away from people’s fake intentions and the danger that came with trusting them.

Edwin brought me to a small square room with steel walls and a metal desk and had me sit down on one side. “He’s here,” he spoke into the phone without dialing a single number.

We waited in silence until the door opened revealing someone who hadn’t shown his face to the public in years. It was President Clark. “Hello Keegan,” he stated kindly as he sat down, but I was too shocked to say anything. “I imagine you’re very confused at why we brought you here, so I won’t make you wait any longer. Have you heard of the prophecy that explains how our world will be restored?”

I nodded.

“Well, after very careful study, we believe that you are the young man they speak of. You are the one the universe has chosen.”

I shook my head, “No, I think there has been a mistake. It can’t be me.” I’d never done anything brave enough to make me believe I could ever be hero in that story. It had to be someone else.

“My people don’t make mistakes,” the President shut me down, and I knew immediately that he wasn’t lying.

“But how,” I questioned as my heart speed up, knowing only how the prophecy ended and not what would lead me up to that point.

“You don’t what you’re capable of until you’re given the opportunity to test your limits. Let me prove it to you,” he explained before pushing a folder across the table.

Who is the chosen one?

2 thoughts on “Writing Prompt: Day 50

  1. Kate:
    “Volito,” I whispered to the slight piece of paper staring at me from the kitchen counter; it was the same tiny scrap I’d been staring at for the better part of an hour. Scattered all around the room were further attempts at regaining my full magickal abilities from the jar, but no great successes stood out. Even the snapdragon sheltering in a porcelain pot by the counter was entirely unaltered by my growth spells. I could have sworn it shrunk after the eighth try.
    Leaning back on my stool I considered our open-concept kitchen with contempt. With its pompously delicate finishes, pale cream paint and florescent lime backsplash you might have thought people with taste lived here. Light fixtures hung low in the middle of the island; some kind of post-modern, metal sculptures that cast light at odd angles. Somewhere in a drawer were the utensils but I still opened every other one first.
    I could feel a bitterness souring the wonderful, stormy day and, today more than ever, the house reminded me of our mother. Everywhere you turned was an item or colour she personally picked out to make the house a home. Lately I couldn’t think of her without remembering that it was her neglect of magick that made me the way I was; and I couldn’t forgive her for abandoning Anise here when she could have stayed.
    When Anise, dressed in a provocatively short dress and clacking heels, skipped into the kitchen she stopped dead in her tracks. Staring behind me she pointed and mouthed something inaudibly. I turned to see what she was looking at but saw nothing but the impending storm clouds; they were bringing a well-needed rain. Since Hugo arrived our weather system has been more than a smidge off.
    “Anise,” I began, turning back to her questions on my lips. But she was setting a jar carefully on the counter silently, her demeanor stiff. Glancing from the faux dead look in her eyes to her fidgeting fingers behind the container and back again, I nodded to myself encouragingly. “I can’t take it back.” I stated; more to myself than Anise. Though I knew she could see the fear behind my eyes I managed to stop the quivering in my tone for the moment.
    She seemed to take in my declaration, processed it while scanning the pages in an old grimoire for something to do and gazed into my eyes for a moment. When he fingers lay flat on the cold stone I knew she was going to put up a fight, “Yes, you can take it back. And you will.” Gesturing dramatically about the room at my failed attempts at magick without my power, she continued in a stark tone, “You nearly died for this power, Lil. Hugo will come for it again. He won’t stop and you know it.” Conviction was plain in her eyes as she slid the glowing jar closer to me.
    I knew she was right; but I didn’t want to be the target I had been before. Now that I knew he wouldn’t actually hurt Anise there didn’t seem enough reason to arm myself with my magick. Hugging my arms around my stomache I rocked gently to calm my nerves at taking back the thing I almost let Hugo kill me over.
    When the door rang I was staring into a chip in my glass and was so entranced Anise answered it without another word. She returned a minute later, pale as a ghost, and carrying a large box tied neatly with deep navy ribbon. As she plopped the package across several open texts I was knocked out of my taxing reverie and Anise began a search for scissors wordlessly. Without acknowledging her I touched the coloured tie and felt a jolt of electricity.
    Reeling back into the island I gasped as the tracks running up my arm lit up as they did the other night, I looked at my sister. “Don’t touch the box,” was all I could manage as I started forward again. This time I gripped the ribbon, ignoring the shocks, and undid the ties. They fell free and the box sighed unnaturally; we both stood away from the cardboard with nervous anticipation.
    When I lifted the flap gently nothing came out at us and I sighed in relief; I could see the edge of a leather bound book beneath a hand-written letter. Lifting the page out I unfolded the heavy paper, feeling the rough material against my fingertips. It read like a pleasant correspondence from an old friend, but it was more of a warning than anything.
    – My dear cousin Lily,
    This book was passed down through the Cor line, ending with me. I was entrusted with it and am gifting it to you, though it breaks my Heart (pun intended). I’ve taken everything I could from its weathered pages and I expect you to do the same. Though you may not know why just yet, I require you to have the stamina and power to at least match me for our relationship to work. I hear my new associate attempted to cheat you out of that power; it would have been a grave mistake on his part. It won’t happen again; though I’m not entirely convinced the damage hasn’t already been done.
    – Lovingly yours, Serena Cor
    I could feel Anise’ eyes boring into me as she tapped the counter expectantly. Written in jet ink was an indecipherable message from a deranged woman who was now in league with my arch nemesis; the same man who had recently attempted to kill me. But she had given me a book that might have some answers and for that, though I may come to regret saying so, I was grateful to her.
    Without looking Anise in the eye I passed her the note and returned to the box, lifting the other flaps to see the book. The cover was cracked and scared as though it had been through a battle with the stuffy scent of an old book. Gripping the spine, I carefully removed it from the bin and placed it lovingly on the counter. Anise came to peek over my shoulder as I leafed through the first pages; mostly family trees and the balance of power in ancient times.
    I flipped to the next page and the blood splatter made me freeze; it was a note written in, what appeared to be, human blood that had dripped and smeared. “Lily Anne Heart will be defeated by Serena Cor. But Serena Cor will not succeed in her plans because of Lily Anne Heart.” There, written in blood was the statement I never wanted to see; I had a destiny greater than myself. Simple yet horrifying, I may have stood there for an eternity had Anise not touched my shoulder. When I turned, nails poised to claw like a wounded predator, she shied away before clearing her throat.
    “You’re not gonna be beaten by that harpy. This is just her trying to scare you.” Her gaze shifted between my eyes, shining slightly. But I just turned back to the tome splashed with blood and continued reading; the next few pages spoke of spell magick being the only true, soul magick. What I had was unique, unheard of even, but it didn’t make me the chosen one. Or did it?


  2. Created to Write:
    The storm started at 12pm.
    The electricity went out at 3pm.
    The heating system went at 5:30pm.
    The fireplace was lit not long after. As the group of teens sat around the living room floor, playing board and card games, the snow and wind howls on the other side of the glass windows.
    Then the room goes dark. Heather and Finn turn to see that the fire went out, due to a lack of fuel.
    “Alright, who wants to go outside, to the shed, and get more firewood?” Heather asks.
    No one meets her gaze.
    “Alright, we’ll do this the old fashioned way,” Heather limps to the kitchen and grabs six straws. She cuts off the bendy part of one of them. She walks back, all six of the straws looking to be the same length at the top. “Pick a straw. Short end goes outside.”
    “Six?” Rick asks.
    Heather points to her brace, “Handicapped. Otherwise I would have taken one for the team.”
    Everyone stares at the straws, starting to shiver a little. Then, Nikki and August step forward. They draw two straws, the same length. Finn draws, and sighs in relief. Josh, Rick, and Jacey each pick a straw, then draw at once.
    Everyone stares at the short straw. August pulls his face into a smirk.
    “Well, looks like you’re the chosen one.”
    Everyone goes to the living room to watch as he tramps out into the snow, covered from head to toe in winter gear.
    Needless to say, Josh deserved the first cup of hot chocolate once the electricity worked again.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s