Writing Prompt: Day 52

52.jpgDay 52 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Your character’s roommate is a superhero. 

Erin: “It’s time you started pulling your weight around here,” I snapped doing the dishes for the third Friday in a row.

“Excuse me, saving the campus from a mass shooting is not pulling my weight,” Rex snapped taking off his jeans that had some sort of blue liquid spilled on them.

“That was weeks ago, and news flash you’re not the only one with a job,” I threw the drying towel on the counter to storm out.

“Being a super hero is not a job,” Rex insisted.

“Fine, but you are not saving the world at every hour of the day. You’re here enough to dirty dishes. Just make sure you’re here enough to clean them,” I yelled from my room as I slammed the door.

“Next time you’re in danger don’t be surprised if I am too busy with chores to save you,” he growled.

“Like anyone cares enough about me to try and hurt me,” I shouted.

“I do,” I heard just before I placed my headphones on.

Shannon: I opened the door to my soot and blood covered roommate, Ray. It looked like he was in an explosion again. He quickly slid past me without saying a word. I looked outside and waved to a neighbor who was still staring. She was always giving us a questioning look. I thought I might as well help for once. I was working on a good lie for a while now, “Actors,” I huffed. “Never wants to break character no matter how crazy he looks,” I rolled my eyes but when I focused again all I got was an eyebrow raise before she turned back to her door.

I went back inside and found Ray raiding the fridge. “So how was your day,” I questioned.

“Eventful as always,” Ray smiled, before he started chugging the milk out of the container. I was hoping the gallon could last longer than a day, but maybe it was time to get separate jugs.

“So did you get the bad guy,” I asked, waiting for something good.

“No bad guy this time, just a building explosion. I saved a few workers who were trapped inside.

“Do you know what caused the explosion,” I pried.

He shook his head, with an armful of food, as he finally closed the fridge door. “I didn’t hear anything yet, but we should probably turn on the news.”

“So that doesn’t leave out the possibility of a bad guy. You just didn’t see him,” I grabbed the remote, clicking on the T.V. simultaneously.

“Why do you always want it to be a bad guy? That’s never easy on me,” he complained.

“Exactly but you always find a way to defeat him, or her, and it often involves you needing some help from me. It’s boring to just hear stories all the time. I want to be a part of the action. I want stories of my own,” I explained flipping for a station that was covering the accident.

“Stories that you can never tell anyone?” He walked in the living room and plopped down on the coach. Another thing I’d be cleaning later.

“Yeah, and I’ve kept good on that promise,” I pointed back at him. “No one but me knows about you, or about the time when we kicked you-know-who’s ass,” I clenched my fist, getting hyped by the memory as I turned my head back to the screen. “I just like knowing that I’m capable of helping save the day. No matter who knows.” I finally landed on the right channel.

“I get that,” he agreed.

“They’re not ruling out foul play,” I cheered, and he moaned.

Your character is living with a legend, how do you imagine that will go?


Writing Prompt: Day 51

51.jpgDay 51 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about the exact moment your character realizes he/she is in love.

Shannon: “When did you first know you were in love with me,” Will asked as we laying on a blanket in the sand, relaxing by the beach.

I took a deep breath in and stretched my arms above my head. Why did he have to start with a hard one? I turned around to lie on my stomach and rest my cheek on my arms so I could get a better look at him. “Do you remember when we broke up?”

“I tried not to think about it,” he turned his head to stare back at me.

“I actually like to think about it,” I disagreed, “because one day I was walking alone just thinking and eventually the roulette wheel in my mind landed on you, which wasn’t big surprise. I tried to spin again, but it was stuck. When I was thinking I came to this epiphany that I was always going to care about you. You were different than any of my other relationships. I didn’t ever want to forget about you, even if we never saw each other again. That’s how I knew, and I just hoped it would work out in the end, and that you would feel the same,” I shrugged my shoulders slightly. “Now you tell me. When did you know?”

He shook his head, “That’s not how this game works. You have to ask a different question,” he smirked.

“No come on, tell me.” I begged.

He stuck to his guns, “You’re just going to have to wait for another day.”

Erin: “Hello,” Frank answered the phone with some question in his voice. “What’s up?”

“We need to talk,” I said dreading the conversation we were about to have.

“Okay, what do we need to talk about,” he sounded so secure.

“Well,” I started. “I think we need to take a step back.”

“A step back,” he repeated with confusion in his voice.

“I just need a little more space than you’re willing to give me,” I tried not to mumble too much. I always mumbled when I was nervous.

“Since when, I thought you liked me keeping you in my day,” his voice started to fade out.

“You need to know where I am at all times, you’re always at my place on the weekend, I can’t escape you,” I didn’t consider holding back until my words were already out.

“Because I love you and care about what you’re up to,” he asked.

“I feel smothered.”

“Okay fine, I’ll ignore you some days,” he offered.

“I was thinking more of a step back,” I stuttered slightly.

“How far,” he waited.

“All the way back. I don’t think I am the type of girl for you,” I respected him too much to not cut the ties completely.

“Well okay then,” he hung up without a farewell. Those three words were the last that I heard from him. That night when I didn’t hear from him couldn’t sleep. In the morning I could barely breath, too bad I didn’t realize I loved him until I heard him hang up on me.

Write about the moment when the relationship your characters have change.

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?

Writing Prompt: Day 49


49.jpgDay 49 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a story where the narrator talks to the reader.

Shannon: Ah reader, I see you decided to come back for more. I’m happy to see you, but I must warn you this next part of the story is not for the faint of heart. Feel free to turn back now, before it’s too late.

As you remember we left Ashley, Peter, and Hunter in the woods, trying to find out where Megan had run off to hide. “Megan it’s not funny where are you,” Ashley called out into the silence, starting to panic.

There was no answer, so they all continued to shout her name, hoping she’d make some kind of noise. Though they were sick of her antics, they each secretly longed for her to jump out and attempt to scare them with her sloppy-drunk mindset. Yet no matter where they shined their flashlights, the forest remained still. Reader I don’t use that as a figure of speech. There were no animals scurrying around, not a single leaf was rustled, not even the wind was out that night.

I don’t know if you have ever heard that kind of silence in an unexpected place. Maybe it brought you peace, or maybe it put you on edge. See normally I think it depends on who you are and how embrace the unusual. I’m only a presence, so I’ve seen a lot, but I found myself just as terrified as the rest of them.

Suddenly all of flashlights flickered out at the same time, and in the pitch dark a distant sound was finally audible. It was eerie scratching sound that was getting closer and more aggressive by the second. They stayed silent, twisting and shaking their flashlights, too paralyzed to move in the dark without some light. The scratching reached their location before they could make any progress and the bone-chilling noise stopped. Then there was a scream.


Dear Reader,

We must first get some facts about this story I am about to tell you out in the open. The most important of these facts is that this story is not in my control. I have not chosen the ending we have been forced to endure in taking this journey together. I don’t want to tell this story any more than you want to read it.

The second piece that I am required by our bylaws to disclose is that humans were harmed in the making of this story… or the making of this life.

The last piece that we need to get out in the open is that I am an unbiased spectator. While I am not happy about some of the events that conspired throughout this story, I do not have a tie or favor to any one of the people involved.

Continue reading at your own risk.


An Innocent Observer

You can do this, yup I’m talking to you reader.

Writing Prompt: Day 48

48.jpgDay 48 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about where a runaway bride goes after she runs.

Erin: “Where did you go,” my therapist asked.

“To the ocean,” I eluded.

“Why,” she pushed.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I guess because the ocean doesn’t have an end. The water doesn’t have any boundaries. I wanted to be able to flow like the water. So, I thought I’d join in the dance.”

“How did you feel when you were in the water,” she asked.

“Like the waves were going to pull my wedding dress off,” I sighed. “And excited at that idea.”

Shannon: After I distracted my bridesmaids I snagged the keys and went running out the back door until I reached my vehicle. Under the belief that no stranger had to know what I was up to, I immediately ripped off all the decorations the wedding party had already added to the car. Then I hopped into the driver’s seat and locked the doors, running on pure adrenaline at that point.

With a twist of the key the engine roared and I knew I was almost in the clear, but as I turned around to back out of the parking spot I caught sight of my maid of honor in the back doorway. I pushed on the gas a little harder, but she was already running after me. “What are you doing?” She yelled loud enough for me to hear her muffled voice through my closed windows.

“I can’t do it. I’m sorry,” I couldn’t even look at her or take the time to roll down the window, so I didn’t know if she heard. Then I started driving again without a clue of where I was going. I couldn’t go to our home. They’d find me eventually, and ultimately he’d find me too. I couldn’t go to any family or friends, because they were all at the wedding waiting for me to walk down the isle. It wouldn’t be the first time I disappointed them. I couldn’t go anywhere too public. There’d be so many questions and confusion with me in my big white dress. I should have brought a change of clothes. Deep down I knew I couldn’t handle this.

That’s how I ended up at the bridal store where I had bought the dress, the one place where it was normal and maybe, just maybe, they could offer me some advice. They pounced on me with compliments the second I walked though the door. “Is there something wrong with your dress,” one questioned.

I shook my head, “I ran,” I revealed without a second thought.

“We got another runner Linda. Get the Champagne. Let’s get you to the back and see if we can fix this. We only take you there in case any prospective clients come in. Runners are not great for business, but you’re going to be just fine honey,” she rubbed my back and led the way.

Where does your character run to, where is her safe place?

Writing Prompt: Day 47


Day 47 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a story where a character’s weakness works in their favor.

Shannon: My entire life I have never been much of a leader. I’ve always tended to stray to the back of the line and let someone else make the hard decisions. I was told many times I could never succeed if I always stayed in the background, and for a while I believed them. I thought I would always be a follower and never feel the joy of true freedom, but they were wrong.

After years of supporting other people I learned how to decipher the difference between the best and the worst leaders. With all the time I spent in line I learned who I wanted to keep following, and who I needed to break away from. I also developed some close friendships with leaders who took me with them for life-changing opportunities.

I always thought there was something wrong with me because I never felt the drive to guide others to greatness. Now I know that you don’t always have to be the one who gets everyone to the finish line. You just have to be there to cross the line, and enjoy the company you’ve surrounded yourself with. Trust me, it will taste just as sweet.

Erin: The one and only time that I ever cried in my life was in fifth grade. I needed to pass my spelling test with 100% to move up to my last elementary level. To accomplish the feat, I stayed up all night studying with my best friend. After breaking down in tears once she screamed at me to “buck up.” She could easily say that as a normal average speller. That’s when I broke into tears though.

Rachel wouldn’t let me quit though, she stuck with me and graded my tests until I got my 100%. She stuck with me through the spy academy and she was sticking with me through the mission we needed complete to save our positions. “Passcode,” I requested and made sure my ear piece was in.

“Playwright42,” Johnathan feed us the information.

“Perfect,” Rachel cheered and started typing away.

“Wait,” I screamed fully aware we only had one chance to try a code.

“What,” she scoffed removing her hands from the panel.

“It’s spelled W-R-I-G-H-T,” I warned.

“W-R-I-T-E is how it’s spelled actually,” she tried to correct me.

“You’re the one who taught me how to spell it,” I yelled. “It’s not about how it should be, it’s about how it is,” I reminded her of her own words of advice.

“You’re talking about the spelling test where you got the better score than me,” she seemed to have an epiphany.

“Yes,” I sighed relived. “So, trust me.”

And she did, and the only reason we were able to complete our mission was because I was a bad enough speller that I had studied words like playwright until my eyes were completely devoid of moisture.

No bad traits, just bad attitudes.

Writing Prompt: Day 46


Day 46 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a character that represents a season.

Erin: Winter was impossible to pin. One day I would go up to her and she would ice me out completely. I’d ask her how her day was and she would just say “bad.” I would ask her if she wanted a cookie from the break room and she would just say “no.” Then other days her beauty would blanket the room and despite her constant scowl, there were days I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She would say “good” and “yes” on those days. Days like that were usually dangerous, I would slip on my words and her chuckle would send me spinning out of control.

I understood why she could be that way. Her desk was covered completely in white. People were always dropping projects off for her and there was no way she could finish a page’s project before she got another ten. Her projects all revolved around children’s books, so she brought joy to so many others. Too bad that came at her expense.

It all changed at the same time of year though. She always had all of her vacation in one long four-week trip. To prep she basically lived in the office, until she turned on her out of office.

I never saw her during her vacation, but rumor has it, she is the most beautiful and warm person laying on the beach. When she comes back she still has a bit of that glow. Slowly though her desk will start to fill and her mood will start to chill. Her stress will build day by day, until yet again vacation will come around. From what I am told, that four-week span makes the rest of the craziness worth it.

Shannon: April was the type of person who could bring a little hope to even my darkest moments. To cheer me up she’d offer her warmth, but never ask me to completely forget about my memories of when it was cold. A much-needed conversation with her was both refreshing and unpredictable at the same time. I could never bring the same advice to the table, even though at times she needed it just as much as me.

She felt each emotion so deeply, so she never had a shortage of tears. She produced so many she probably could have used them to water her gardens of beautiful flowers. I think that’s where she found the most peace, just caring for them in the quiet. She wasn’t afraid of silence, because somehow she never felt alone. Now as I lie in her favorite spot, amongst everything she has grown, I realized she wasn’t.

Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer… pick your poison.