Day 243 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Be inspired by the Randy Pausch quote. “We cannot change the cards we are dealt, just how we play the game.”

Erin: She was the kind of girl who never got upset. At least if she did she wasn’t the kind of girl who reacted when she got upset. She was stone faced no matter if everything was going to shit or if everything was going her way. She was the definition of stability.

Shannon: I was born with a desire to act, but I soon learned after many auditions that I didn’t have the look of a main character. I was always a sidekick, a buddy, or any other supporting character. Good enough to deserve a part, but never worthy of the best one, and there wasn’t anything I could do to change it.

Then one day I decided to stop auditioning to fit into their roles. I started searching for characters like me, and not the ones hiding in the background. They had to be the lead. It wasn’t an easy search, but my characters where out there. I could shine a light on them, and I did.

What’s in your character’s cards?

Day 242 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Where do your characters go to get away from the rest of the world?

Shannon: We weren’t supposed to be on the roof, but no one ever found out we were up there, so we figured it was fair game. We didn’t plan it the first day, just ended up in the same place. It only took that one night of staying up late to talk, as we stared at the stars, to know this rooftop was were we wanted to be. We kept coming back. It became our spot.

Erin: There is this island that only I know about. That’s why I love it. When I can’t handle people anymore I know the grass mound can be my safe space. The only way to get to the land mass is to swim into the underwater cave and out the other end. It takes about 45 seconds without breathing to swim it. Most people would turn back after 30, and so far, everyone but me has. The island in the center started with just some tall glass and wild flowers. Then I brought my tent, books, blankets, pillows, and myself. Maybe one day I would bring a friend, but for the time being I needed the secret space for myself.

Take us to your character’s safe space.

Day 241 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a train headed to a mystery location.

Erin: Being on that rickety train under normal circumstances would be intimidating. Waking up to the rust bucket barreling forward when the last thing I remembered was my bed was terrifying. The other people around me looked even less confident than myself. I was determined to team them up and take down the engineer. We could come up with a plan and it was going to be one heck of a ride.

Shannon: My eyelids were heavy as I opened them to see a foggy view of a bright light from the window my head was resting against. I picked my head up, not remembering how I got here as I turned my head to see a stranger sitting next to me. He was sleeping too. Once my eyes could focus a bit more I deducted that we were on a train, and I didn’t recognize a single face around me.

“Hey, are you awake,” a voice behind me questioned, and I twisted by torso to look back at another stranger. “Do you know where we’re going?”

I shook my head, apologetically, “I don’t even know how I got here.”

She sighed, and leaned back again, “Me neither.”

Where is the ticket for?

Day 240 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Put a strange curse on your character.

Shannon: “You think it’s funny to make fun of the parts of people you deem undesirable?” My teacher looked at me with a disappointed stare down, but it didn’t faze me. They wanted me to be kind, but where did kind ever get anyone? “Fine you’re not hurt by anything, then this won’t her you either,” she filled in my silence. “The next time you criticize a person for what they look like, you will share that same trait you despise so much. Be careful about who you hurt, because it will come back to you.”

I crossed my arms, “Is that a threat?”

She smiled and shook her head. “It’s a curse.”

Erin: I was cursed from a young age. Parents used to judge my mother for not being strict enough with me. I remember not understanding why she was getting yelled at for what I was doing to my own hair. Dying hair could damage the health of it though. That was the only explanation normal people had for my hair being blue one day and red the next. If they knew my mood was responsible for my color and highlights their concern would turn to me and I didn’t need that kind of attention.

What curse is your character under?

Day 239 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Create a new superhero.

Erin: Ology was the controller of her victim’s emotions. By manipulating their highs and lows and she could twist them into thinking the decisions they were making were their own. When they followed her wishes they were rewarded with a high inducing level of dopamine. If they did the opposite she could inflict a debilitating dose of sadness. No one realized the full pull of their emotions and that made it easy for her to play puppet master in the shadows.

Shannon: The florescent lights above my head shattered one by one as I ran down the hallway. No one could find out that I was the true cause of the school’s sudden electrical malfunction. I hoped as soon as I was out of the building the chaos would stop, but when I turned back to check I spotted a new problem.

“It’s you. You’re The Spark,” a classmate had been following me. I didn’t know much about him, besides his name and what I’d observed about his intelligence. He was a bit of a nerd, so if anyone in the school was going to find out who I was, I wasn’t surprised it was him.

“What are you talking about? I’m just getting the hell out of the school before it blows up,” I spewed the first excuse I could come up with.

He smiled, like I’d confirmed his suspicion. “How does it work? I’ve never seen electricity function the way it does when you’re fighting. It’s beautiful,” he stepped closer. “I’ve tried to figure out your secret, but I found out it’s impossible to harness that kind of energy. Please, I’ve got to know how you do it.”

I sighed and closed my eyes, giving myself a second to breathe before I opened them again. “Why would,” I paused to air quote the name the media gave me, “The Spark tell you her secret.”

“Well,” he adjusted his glasses, as he thought, “I guess…because I care.”

He managed to get his reason out before the rest of the school started evacuating the building. I took that as my chance to get away, even though it wasn’t a bad answer on his part.

What power does your character possess?

Day 238 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a message in a bottle.

Shannon:

To the person who finds this,

I’m sending out this letter from an island in Hawaii, hoping it finds its way to stranger who cares enough to read it, and doesn’t immediately throw my note away. I need your help with a little experiment of mine. I’m trying to see where this bottle ends up, and if you call the number on the back I’ll let you know where it has been and who it has been with. If you don’t wish to participate I understand, but please send the bottle out again. Don’t let this line of communication end, and always know you’re not alone, sometimes even strangers think of you.

Sincerely,

Kiana

Erin: All it said was, “Come quick. We are running out of resources.” It was followed by a what appeared to be a poorly drawn map. That was all I needed, I would find them. I had to. The bottle floated to me the letter was destine for my eyes.

Write a floating message.

Day 237 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: What toppings does your character top their ice-cream with?

Erin: Ha, silly question he thought. “I’m a purist. Plain vanilla.”

Shannon: Caramel, marshmallow fluff, pecans, brownie pieces and one gummy bear.

Define your character’s sweet tooth.

Day 236 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: What happens in this building?

Shannon: The building holds a group of scientists who love astronomy. They often spend their nights on the top floor, studying the sky.

Erin: Every room is the same. They used them as controlled environments for illegal human experimentation.

What happens behind those windows?

Day 235 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about someone embracing something they used to hide.

Erin: “I want to show you something,” my boyfriend sat down next to me on the couch.

“Your dream journal,” I asked looking at the leather-bound journal with a moon burned into it.

“That’s not what it is,” he corrected handing it to me without any other explanation.

I read the first few words and they were beautiful. After a few verses, I caught on that it was poetry. “Why is this the first I am hearing about this?”

“I don’t tell people” he grumbled.

“Why,” I pressed.

“Cause it’s embarrassing,” there was a whine in his voice.

“Like that’s stopped you from sharing anything with me before,” I thought that I was different.

“Well you would want me to write some for you,” he reviled.

I shot him an annoyed look, “who’s this one about then,” I pointed to the love poem I was on.

“You, but I didn’t need the pressure,” he argued.

“How are you so articulate on the page, yet we are having this ridiculous conversation,” I shook my head fully aware of this guy I was dating.

Shannon: I used to hide my grades the second I got my papers back. I didn’t want my friend to know I cared about school. I also didn’t want my classmates to see my grades and instantly assume they knew something about the kind of person I was. Eventually I realized by covering my grades I was covering up one more piece of me, and I was sick of hiding. That’s why I decided to let them look, not because I wanted them to know, but because I wanted to stop punishing myself for the truth.

What is being brought to light?

Day 234 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a story a grandparent tells their grandchild.

Shannon: When I was a kid a tornado touched down in our neighborhood. It took out most of the houses on the block except for ours, so my parents opened up their doors to give some families a place to stay. We lived in our tiny house with three different families, and no one ever complained. I think you can share your room for little while longer, don’t you?

Erin: Things aren’t the same these days. Boys used to court the girls they fancied. Your grandfather recited a poem to ask me on our first date. We went to the diner seven times before he finally took my hand in his. The first time we kissed was during a slow dance at homecoming. By prom he asked me to go steady. Never did he let me go cold or my feet get wet, or did he ever let my hand touch a door handle when he was around. I know you find the whole thing old fashioned, but there was something special about being put above everything else.

How was it in the old days?