Day 131 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a story with a strong focus on the sky.

Erin: The night sky talked to me.

The stars told me where I was from.

The moon told me where I was going.

In the country, I felt whole.

The city made me feel like half of a person.

When the clouds blocked my view my life was stagnant.

When it was blocked by walls or lights I just yearned for making the problem go away.

In the daytime I was drained.

As a human I didn’t function well.

I was made a creature of the night.

Shannon: I woke up when I heard her old bedsprings creaking from her side of the room. She got up every night and I always woke up soon after, but I’d keep my eyes closed. I listened to her open the door and walk out, barely able to hear her steps fade down the stairs.

As soon as I could no longer hear her feet, I’d go to the window and wait to see her out there looking up at the sky. When I first caught her looking up, not long after she joined our foster home, I thought there was something mystical about her actions, like she connected with the sky, and she longed to spend her nights admiring its presence.

Then I looked closer, and I realized she wasn’t just staring. She was looking for something.

I traced her steps as quietly as I could, and whispered her name when I found her lying on her blanket in the backyard. She wasn’t startled, as she calmly raised herself to her elbows. “What are you looking for,” I asked, needing to know.

“They’re coming back for me,” she replied before tilting her head back up. Afraid she had already looked away too long.

“Who are you talking about?” I bit my lip, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

“My family. They promised they’d come back for me,” she didn’t look away. She was so confident.

“Do they fly a lot,” I questioned moving to sit down next to her, trying to make sense of it.

“Yes, that’s the only way they can travel when they come to Earth.” I waited for her to crack a smile but she was serious. Great, my roommate was either delusional or an alien. Actually come to think about it, foster life could be dull at times, and this could be entertaining for once.

“Ok,” I nodded, joining her in looking up. “Can you tell me about them?”

How does the sky drive your story?

Day 130 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about someone who is in a rush.

Shannon: “Can’t stop,” I put up my index finger up to block Rachael the second I saw her spot me from a few feet away.

“You can put up with me until you to get wherever you’re going,” she bypassed my statement.

“I’m really not in a good mind space to focus right now. I have seven places I need to get to in the next two hours, and I’ve already set myself up to fail. Do you want to talk later, when I will actually listen?”

“No, no. I don’t want to talk I just have to give you something,” she kept up with my pace as she swung her bag in front of her chest. “Here,” she handed me a tightly folded note. “It’s from him. I promised I’d get it to you.”

I stopped and let it drop to the cement. She quickly picked it up for me. “Why?” I squeezed my hands into fists. “I just told you I need to get shit done. I do not need that right now,” I scolded as I pointed at the paper.

“Then put it in your bag and read it later.”

“No, I can’t have it within arm’s reach, I’ll never be able to avoid it. You keep it until later, and I will try to forget I ever seen it,” I checked the time on my phone. I was already late. Why was still not moving?

“I’ll lose it, and I can’t be held responsible. No one can write or say the same thing twice. I did my part, I’m sorry, but it’s yours now,” she shoved it in my hand, and ran pass me, like we were kids playing tag.

Erin: Dear Journal,

Why do I have you? The days where the most happens, I don’t have time to stop and write about it.

Love,

Busy

Why is your character rushing around?

Day 129 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about someone who is in their own little bubble.

Erin: If I know that I am living in my own bubble, does that count as living in my own bubble? I mean, I am fully aware of reality. I am fully aware of how a normal person should react, but my past experiences don’t allow for that. I can’t just pretend I am okay with this situation. I know I am living in a bubble and looking out on the world. But I have no interest in the life people are living out there.

Shannon: My life can be encapsulated in the space of my self-drawn bubble. What I’m willing to do, who I’m willing to spend my days with, and where I’m willing to go all live in this bubble. I’m safe under the shelter of its dome. Yet, like most bubbles, mine is transparent.

I see what happens on the outside, and it makes me smile. I want to join in the fun, but I’d have to break my bubble to do so. That terrifies me. I’d be venturing out with no shield for protect when things go wrong, and for me they always seem to go wrong.

So do I wait in this bubble until bravery befriends me? Or, do I pierce the barrier now and welcome whatever chaos comes my way?

Limit your character to there own little reality?

Day 128 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a loss of trust.

Shannon: The worst thing about losing trust in someone is that the burden is hardly felt by the person lost it and wholly felt by the person who gave it. When you lose faith in someone you see them in a different light. It’s a view you wish you could reverse, but you can’t. No matter how much you try to believe they’re the same person you used to know, you realize what they’re capable of. They let you down, and that doesn’t mean they’re going to do it again, it just means they can. You used to believe they’d never hurt you and they’d have your back in any battle. Then you witness them abandon you right as the knife goes into your back, or worse they’re the one holding the weapon. Some things you can’t forget.

Erin: “I’m done with you,” my lab partner grumped putting away his books.

“Why is that,” I decided to humor him on the way out the door.

“You made me fail man,” he hit my shoulder.

“On the test? How is that,” I countered.

“Like you don’t know that I copy you,” he said like it was some obvious fact. The teacher thought so too. That’s why we arranged for me to hand in a test with the most idiotic answers. When he had all of the same ones we knew it was true.

“Trust me everyone knows,” I scoffed vowing to never blindly trust an assigned partner again.

Trust is a valuable asset, how is it lost in your character?

Day 127 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a millionaire who looses all of it or a poor person who just gained millions of dollars. 

Erin: I was the one investment that Charles refused to let go. One might think that a personal assistant in his financial state was ridiculous. However, without me he would have had so many small expenses I spared that did make me valuable. If there was one thing I did know how to do, it was being cheap.

“Where do you think, we are going,” I questioned as he got ready to turn into the parking lot of his favorite restaurant.

“To eat. I deserve a little treat,” he elaborated.

“Well then let’s go to McDonalds.”

“Micky whody whaty,” he questioned.

“9^th street,” I instructed, continuing to give directions until we were parked.

“Do we seat ourselves too,” he asked still upset about the lack of valet.

“We order at the counter. We can instruct them that we will eat here or we can take the food to go. That way we can eat at your place”

“What is a Big Mac,” he started.

“Don’t mind that section of the menu. Let’s focus on the value menu,” I took my hands and turned his head to the section with the best deals. I could see the disbelief in his eyes as he turned slightly to see the prices of the items.

After some grumbling and fussing, he placed an order. He decided to eat there as the smell of the food had no place in his home and before I knew it he was humming with pleasure into a bite. Not shortly after he was asking a woman if she had tasted the French fries which to him “were just divine.”

Shannon: “That’s a crazy story, so they didn’t let you keep anything,” I questioned, taking another pan off the pile to scrub it down. He was working on stacking the rinsed ones for the dishwasher.

“Nothing but the clothes on my back,” he shook his head. “And the first thing you decided to do was steal food from a restaurant?”

“Is it stealing if I’m working for it now? I mean I didn’t dine and dash,” he shrugged, looking pretty proud of himself.

“By taking the food it’s basically a promise you’re going to pay for it with money, not labor, so yeah I’d say it’s sealing,” I corrected him.

“So I’m already a criminal?”

I hummed in thought. “Yeah, but people do what they think they have to when they need to survive. Although I’m surprised someone like you wouldn’t have any friends who could take you in, give you food,” I pointed out.

“I tried that. Apparently I’m not so pleasant. They actually loved seeing me fall on face, so I guess they only hung out with me because I could give them something,” he looked down and started pulling more pans from the water, getting himself soaked in the process. Clearly not used to this work.

“That sucks. I don’t know how much of a jerk you were to them, but fake friends are the worst. They know exactly what they’re doing, and there is something that makes me sick about that,” I scrubbed a little harder on the burnt crumbs I was working on.

“You sound like you’ve dealt with this before,” he seemed surprised.

“You know money is not the only thing people need,” I informed him.

He nodded pressing his lips together. “Oh I know.”

Write about how the rich get poorer and the poor get richer?

Day 126 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character’s emotions controlling the weather or time.

Shannon: “Why is it raining,” Megan asked the rhetorical question, since she already knew the answer. “I don’t understand why you are upset. I really need you to be happy today. I had an outdoor wedding for a reason, because you could promise me sunshine. Don’t back down on that promise, I’m begging you. Do you want to make me cry,” she covered her heart with both hands.

“I’m sorry I’ll get it under control, just give me time to calm down,” I explained, taking deep breaths trying to clear my mind. I flashed every happy thought through my mind that I had stocked up for moments like this. The only problem was fake happiness didn’t work. It couldn’t last. It was too much pressure.

“Do you need to talk, because I really thought you’d be happy for me,” she looked so hurt.

“I am happy for you,” my voice cracked, and I looked up to try to stop myself from crying.

“I can tell,” she stated, disappointed.

I had to tell her the truth. I couldn’t ruin the day for her, leaving her in the dark, since I couldn’t keep it inside. “Everything is going to change. I know we’ll be friends forever, but it’s never going to be the same as it is now. You’re moving away, and you’re going to be busy and keep getting busier, and I’m going to miss this,” tears were falling and I was running out of dry space on my Kleenex.

“Bullshit. Not us,” she shook her head. She was always tough. I wish she could control the weather. It wouldn’t fluctuate so much. “I’m getting married and yes I’m moving, but I’m not scared. Life has changed for us so many times before and we’re still together. I know you won’t forget about me. Don’t sell me short, you need believe the same about me. Trust me.”

I couldn’t hear the rain on the window anymore. I felt at peace. We both looked at the window and then smiled at each other. “When you move, who’s going to help with that,” I joked, pointing outside.

“You’ll call me,” she reached out to embrace me in long hug.

Erin: “Hey babe,” the sound in my girlfriend’s voice sounded hesitant. “We need to talk, can I come over.”

The entire time she was on her way I decided to red through our old text conversations. There was no sign of trouble, and that calmed me down. Her sweetness and humor calmed me down like no other. When the doorbell rang, I ran to the door as quickly as possible. A gust of wind shot her hair into the sky.

“Calm down,” she warned embracing me in a hug. With that contact, the flag in my neighbor’s yard stopped all of its movement.

“It’s so good to see you,” I gushed squeezing her hard.

“Yeah,” she walked into the kitchen without another word.

“What’s up,” I pushed for her to spill what was bothering her.

“Honestly, I don’t know that I can be with you anymore,” she just came out and said.

“What,” my exterior looked fine. I always did. Outside a mist was hitting the window.

“This is the exact reason,” she pointed to the window. The mist had turned into a sprinkle and was only intensifying. “I don’t want have the power to cause this.”

“Welcome to my life,” a strike of lightning crashed nearby and she flinched. “I’m sorry, I just love you.”

“I love you too, but unless you learn how to better control your powers I can’t be with you.”

“But I’ve only ever had any control when I’m with you,” I softly argued as she coldly made her way to the door.

Is your character messing with the weather or time?

Day 125 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character who is loved by all or feared by all.

Erin: My best friend was basically everyone’s best friend. I would be lying if I didn’t say that it bothered me slightly. A part of me felt like my best friend was a myth in that she was a different person for everyone. I tried to have faith in the fact that the version of her I got was the truest, but I don’t know that a true version of her existed.

Shannon: “So what’s it like,” I questioned.

“What is what like,” he didn’t bother to guess as he sat down on the couch with a big smile.

“Being everybody’s favorite person. They all love you out there,” I shared my observation even though I was sure he already knew. “Come on, it’s got to feel good.”

He shook his head and a caught a slight lip twitch followed by furrowed brow that bounced back quickly. “That’s not true. I know people who don’t like me.”

“You mean you know people who used to not like you, before you were famous and rich and whatever else makes people blindly like people,” I corrected.

He looked down and started futzing with his hands. “You don’t blindly like me, so there’s one.”

“Yeah, but I’m family so you can’t trick me into believing you’re perfect, or that you deserve all of this.” I gestured to the door.

He breathed out, “I don’t actually like being everybody’s favorite,” he revealed, conflicted.

“Really?” Now I was intrigued.

“I don’t have to earn anything. Almost anything I want is handed to me. I can’t even tell if I’m good, or if I’m just familiar. I used to be a scrapper, and I used to like being a scrapper. Even laughter is handed to me. It used to feel really good when I got a genuine laugh from people. I used to have to earn it, but now people laugh when I’m not even telling a joke,” he explained, with a frustration he was still trying to mask, even with me.

Is your character surrounded by love or hate?

Day 123 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character who can morph into any animal or human.

Shannon: “Show him what you can do,” my brother wacked my upper arm with the back of his hand. He was protective, so whenever someone would be staying for a while, he made sure they knew what to look out for.

“Not inside,” I reminded him, knowing my transforming accuracy wasn’t well tuned enough to handle enclosed spaces.

“Right, I forgot. Cornfield then,” he questioned.

“I prefer the woods,” I responded, and after a bit of a walk we were there.

“What’s your favorite animal,” Will asked the new farmhand.

“I like giraffes,” Paul shrugged, like it was an odd interview question.

My eyes went wide, “Smaller,” I stated, before brain could think about it too much.

He put up his hands, “Whoa sorry. I like wolves. Does wolves work?”

“Yes,” I gave him a nod. “That works.”

“Back up,” Will grabbed his shoulder directing him to a tree.

I jogged back a distance so I’d hopefully transform right in front of them. I always needed to run to set the change into motion. I think it had something to do with heart rate, I’d just run until I’d become wild enough to turn into whatever animal was on my mind. It was harder to do it in front of other people, but I knew revealing my gift would keep me safe. No matter how weird I must look throughout the process.

I had laser focus this time, and quickly transformed. I paced the rest of the way to them on four legs. Paul knelt down to my level, and looked at me in awe. “This is amazing,” he pet the back of my neck. People always acted weird when I was animal they couldn’t usually get close to. They’d always manage to ignore my human mind.

“Yes it’s great, but she can’t always control what she turns into or when. It could be a bug, a coyote, a farm animal, you never know. At this farm we do no harm to any living creatures. We are always humane, unless your life is on the line. Only then can you fight back, and you better be sure,” he explained, sternly.

“So no swatting any mosquitoes,” he raised his eyebrows at me with a smirk. I tried to glare at him, but I didn’t know how it looked through my wolf eyes.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I think you’ll fit in in well here,” Will slapped his back in approval.

Erin: Who am I. That was the question I had lost the answer to. I had morphed into so many different people that I forgot who I was to begin with. Outside of how I thought the bodies I hijacked acted, how did I act? What did the woman I used to be look like in the mirror? Where was my home? Who were my friends? I literally lost myself in others and I needed to find myself again.

Is your character a dog person or a people person?

Day 123 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about an immortal character or a character that has one day left to live.

Erin: “Want to do something,” Glen asked kicking my leg.

“No,” I gave him just enough time of day to blow him off.

“So, you are just going to sit and play video games then,” he accused.

“Why not? I have an eternity to do just that and will still have the lifespan of the earth to check off all of the things on everyone’s bucket list ever,” nothing really seemed special with the knowledge that I would see most everything more than once in a lifetime.

“Not with me,” Glen pointed out his own mortality.

“Your right,” I gave in putting down my controller. “What do you want to do?”

“Everything as soon as possible. I don’t know how long I get,” he reminded an I knew I shouldn’t be jealous of that fact.

Shannon: “You have to go. Please just go,” he put his hand on my back to lead me to the door. Before he could force me all the way I resisted.

Turning back to face him, I saw his face turned cold. “I don’t understand, did I say something? We were having a nice night. Why are you kicking me out,” I demanded an answer.

He was avoiding my eyes, “It’s me, ok? You didn’t do anything wrong,” he shook his head and attempted to direct me away again.

I didn’t budge, “So you need space for tonight, or how long?”

He shrugged, not saying anything and grabbed my hand, resorting to tugging me out the door.

“I’ll only leave if you tell me why I have to go, and if I actually believe you. Otherwise I’ll be back and I’ll keep bugging you until you tell me.”

“Then I’ll move,” he quickly argued.

“Then I’ll find you,” I bluffed.

“No you won’t. No one ever does,” he responded so seriously, I didn’t know what to say. By the look on his face, I could tell he’d let that one slip out accidentally.

“Who doesn’t find you,” I eventually broke the silence.

“Just go,” he pleaded.

I shook my head, “If you’re so sure I’m never going to find you again, why not just tell me?”

“It’s not safe,” he mumbled, meeting my gaze.

“I don’t have any proof that you even exist outside of our interactions, because you wanted it that way. Who would I tell? No one would believe me,” I hoped I was persuasive enough. “Come on you want to tell someone. Tell me and I’ll disappear forever,” I egged him on.

He closed his eyes, contemplating, and then opened them to look at me, still a little conflicted. “I’m immortal, and that’s why you have to go.”

That was not what I was expecting to hear. “I get it. You’re trying to play the crazy card. You want me to end it.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes before going to the door, “You got me.”

“Oh wow, you’re serious,” I suddenly didn’t need to question it. He nodded. “But immortal doesn’t mean you have to ditch me. I still don’t get it.”

He leaned against the wall, slowly pressing his head back. “I’m starting to have feelings for you,” he revealed, “I can’t do that. I can’t lose anybody else. I’ve had to watch everyone I ever cared about die, so I stopped finding people to care about years ago. I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair, but please go,” I barely spotted the tear sliding down his face.

I felt bad for making him say it out loud. “Could you try not to care,” I offered.

“I already was,” he lowered his head and opened the door.

How long does your character have?

Day 122 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: About a character spending time on a disaster vacation with someone they love or about a character spending time on a dream vacation with someone they hate.

Shannon: “When the flight had turbulence, I thought it was unlucky. When they accidently gave away our hotel room and we had to stay in a makeshift storage closet and sleep in a tiny fold-out bed made for one person…”

“A cozy bed,” Max interrupted, always seeing the bright side, even now.

I dropped my hands to my sides and titled my head back. “Yes okay, it was very nice,” I agreed, “But we just fell of a boat and had to swim to dry land. I think this vacation is officially doomed, and maybe it would be safer if we just went home. Well… as soon as we find people who can tell us where we are,” I went to kick some sand in frustration, but immediately regretted it when my toe made contact with a hidden rock. “Ow,” I screeched and fell to sand to coddle my injury.

“Are you okay,” he sat at my feet. “Can I see?”

“No,” I whimpered. “It feels like there is going to be blood, and I’d rather not see it and just act like it’s not there. “Come on, help me up.”

“Nope,” he put his hands out to wait. I put my foot forward, and tried not to look. “Just a stubbed toe,” he revealed after a quick examination. I cringed as he search for a sharp rock. He used it to cut a small piece of his shirt to cover up the wound. “Tell my that wasn’t the best foot massage you’ve ever got,” he smiled at me after he was done.

“Is that what you call it,” I questioned with a confused smile.

“Yes, and with a massage like that, I’d say this vacation is just starting to look up. We can’t turn back yet.” Now I understood what game he was playing.

“Fine,” I pouted. “But next thing that happens we’re done.” I pointed at him as if my strict finger could force compliance.

“Whatever you say,” he agreed, seeming to know something I didn’t.

Erin: “Why did I have to go on this dang trip with you,” I asked as Lannie and I lounged by the pool.

“The only reason we get to be on this trip is because they want to see if we will kill each other,” she reminded rubbing sunscreen onto her body.

“Fair enough, what you want to do,” I figured trying to get along was our best bet.

“I want to scuba dive,” she offered.

“I hope your air tank fails,” I let out before I realized how badly I was failing with my goal.

“Well I hope you get eaten by a shark,” she sassed back. “Also, good luck finding our hotel key.”

“What,” I immediately checked my beach bag but she was gone before I could confront her.

What type of trip are you going to put your character through?