Writing Prompt: Day 242

242.jpgDay 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.

2 thoughts on “Writing Prompt: Day 242

  1. August was told to stay in bed. Someone is supposed to be with him whenever he is up and moving. But he didn’t care in the dead of night. He sat up and plodded to his bedroom door as quickly as his injuries would allow. He then stumbled down the hall to a different door.
    His door was already open, but this one is closed. August doesn’t want to keep standing, the bandages straining on his legs. And he can’t turn the knob. It feels locked, but this door is never locked. His strength had dwindled in the past time of rest.
    Instead, he curls his fingers and knocks on the door. The sound is weak, so after trying again, he pleads, “Josh?”
    His voice is shaky. He tries knocking again, more insistent since he wants to sit down, but the trip down the hall is too much. He wants in.
    “Josh,” he says louder. He can feel every fiber of skin straining to hold on each of his injuries. His legs feel like they’ll fall apart, the claws on his chest make it hard to breathe, the bites sting, and teeth sink into them again at the mere memory of the incident.
    The door finally opens and two hands hold him up. He’s picked up, under his armpits, just long enough to deposit him on the bed.
    Two blue-gray eyes look him over for any ripped bandages or evident hot spots of pain. Finally, the eyes match August’s. “What were you doing, Gus?”
    August sniffs, “I wanted to get away.”
    “Away from what?”
    “Everyone was… was laughing, at me,” August explains, “and the… and the… the lion…” August wipes his eyes with the back of his left hand, wincing a little, “the lion… it… it was coming for… it was coming for me.”
    The eyes soften a little at the slow explanation.
    “I… I just… I knew I needed to be… I knew you’d protect me,” August finishes.
    “From the lion?”
    “From everyone,” August blurts. He then ducks his head, “I’m a bad ninja. Everyone thinks I’m a joke.”
    “You aren’t a-” The fact that he doesn’t continue might plague August with what his brother really thinks of him. But he wouldn’t be listening if the statement was complete. “Let’s just get you tucked in.”
    August watches him pull back the covers some more. He moves over, settling by the wall. He watches Josh tuck into the spot next to him.
    Josh looks at his brother, then smiles, “No lion is getting passed me, Gus. I’ll always protect you.”
    “You’re a wolf,” August decides.
    Josh chuckles, “No… I’m not a wolf. I think I’m a…” he thinks a moment, “I’m a tiger.”
    August’s face crosses with fear, “A cat? Like the lion?”
    Josh shakes his head, “No no. A tiger is bigger than the lion. They can swim, too. Tigers always protect those they care about, like a mother to her cub, or a brother to a brother.” He ruffles August’s hair lightly. August grins. His eyes start to flutter closed. “I’ll protect you, August.
    “Until you don’t need me.”

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