Day 257 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character who watches over people.

Erin: Being an RA can be like being a babysitter. Sure, the residents are adults, but they don’t really know how to be yet. They know what they need to do, they want to do that, but they are figuring it out still. The freshman are the worst. The know the least and they have a lot of tantrums in the form of getting drunk.

Shannon: I follow a human. He’s a male and he’s been a bit of a hassle to keep track of. His whole life I’ve been protecting him from the death spirits. It seems he’s prone to them. The other guardians don’t have to work as hard as me, but they all admit they’re impressed at how long I’ve kept this one. Sure he’s tough, but I have to admit, I’ve grown quite fond of him.

Who does your character oversee?

Day 256 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Your character makes something beautiful out of very little.

Shannon: “I like what you did with the place Jerry.” I sat down across from the guy I befriended a few months ago. Whenever I saw him he was typically hanging out under a blue tarp that he took with him wherever he ended up for the night.

He glanced back to see what I was talking about, and when he turned to me again there was a subtle smile on his face. He had painted his house with these beautiful patterns, and I was memorized with his new background. “I found perfectly good paints by the dumpster. I guess I’m lucky people don’t know how to appreciate what they have,” he explained.

“They’ll never know what they missed out on,” I agreed.

He reached up to tap the roof. “It makes me feel powerful,” he revealed. “Like I’m worth something,” he looked up, so I couldn’t read his face.

“That’s because you are,” I reminded him.

Erin: His secret was literally rags to riches. He took patches, but instead of patching he created. He sewed them together and created the most beautiful gowns. The overlooked became beautiful in the right hands. He knew how to bring it out.

Find the beauty in the minimal. 

Day 255 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write this story.

Erin: My art teacher knew how to take my panting to the next level. I needed to stop painting all together for a period. The concept seemed counter intuitive but my teacher seemed knowledgeable. So, I went on faith that she was taking me in the right direction. It started with basic dance and the dance turned into an underwater routine. Once I graduated the class I could finally take my brush to the canvas again. My art encompassed the rhythm of the music and the flow of the waves. Painting wasn’t just in the techniques, but in the experiences behind them.

Shannon: This school was the coolest thing I’d ever been a part of, and probably ever would be a part of for the rest of my life. It was full of artists, and not just anyone with artistic talent. Everyone here was recruited because someone, we call them “spies”, saw our work and thought it was unique enough to deserve one of the few spots they handed out.

I’ve seen ballet dancers who outgrown the typical routines. They need to be pushed, and this is the only place that allows them to reach their full potential. It’s the same way with the actors and singers. They want more. They just don’t know it exists until they come here.

My roommate is a dancer, and her own choreographer. She’s never liked playing by the rules, so she loves it here. She even started a new under water dancing team.

Me on the other hand, I’m not a performer. I leave my art on the page, where it has to fend for itself. I’m still trying to understand what makes me different, and why I’m here, but they say the “spies” are never wrong. I just need to trust them.

Connect the dots.

Day 254 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Your character finds something strange in a secluded place.

Shannon: “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” my friend responded getting closer the glowing animal. I grabbed her arm before she could get too far. “Wait, it could hurt you.”

She turned back, “The poor thing looks scared,” she pushed her out arm toward it, tugging away from me.

“Just because it’s cute, doesn’t mean it’s not carrying a disease. Be careful,” I warned, but she was already picking the little furball up. It was glowing yellow, pink, and orange and it was memorizing. The creature looked similar to a fox, but with large ears and a bushy tail. The face was covered as it was shivering into her chest at the moment.

“I think it’s hurt, I’m not leaving it to die. Let’s take it with us,” she suggested.

“I don’t know, what if its mother is nearby? We shouldn’t move it,” I was always hesitant to tamper with nature.

“And what if this is the only one left? I’ll take the risk.” Apparently she didn’t need my approval.

Erin: The last key went into the lock with ease. I turned it slowly. My hand started to shake as I heard the click. Finally, I was going to see what was in the mystery room. With the slightest push, the door creaked open at a crawling pace. My first reaction was that it was empty. But then I saw it. Right in the center of the wood floor. A pizza with a few pieces eaten. It looked fresh.

What’s that?

Day 253 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Give your character a dare.

Erin: “I dare you to quit your job”

“Are you insane?”

“You have to. You chose dare.”

“Your evil.”

“Have you ever considered that you’re the one being evil to yourself?”

Shannon: “I dare you to sneak into that abandoned house on 6^th Street and take something from it,” Avery suggested, very proud of her idea.

“The haunted house?” I questioned. “You want me to steal from dead people?” I reminded her of what she was asking.

My words didn’t faze her, “I know,” she nodded, “Do you prefer the punishment?” She was threatening a week of becoming the high school joke with a collection of outfits that were guaranteed to also piss off the teachers. It was a long-term hassle instead of a short-term terror.

“Don’t make her do it. Pick something else,” Lily was also concerned.

“No, she has to decide,” Avery didn’t back down. “What’s it going to be?”

I had to determine if I could live with myself, and I figured they couldn’t miss anything that I took, not that it would be anything important. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Truth or dare?

Day 252 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a magician who’s in love.

Shannon: “Pick a card any card,” Ron held a deck of cards in front of my face.

I sighed and did as he asked. “Now what?”

He smiled, “Put it back. Wherever you think it should go.”

I put it in the middle. He always tested out new tricks with me. I was excited to see where this one was going. I always thought he was so original, and I knew he’d have his own show someday.

He surprised me as threw the cards in the air and we watch them rain down over us. He turned one over that landed on my lap. “I believe this is your card, but there are words on it. That’s weird.” He shrugged a shoulder.

Somehow he got it right. It was my card. As I looked closer I read, “Will you marry me?”

Erin: “And say hello to my lovely assistant,” I opened the door and she was gone.

The crowd went silent, but so did my brain. I ran to the side of the stage. I pulled the stage curtains closed myself.

“What are you guys trying to pull,” my manager asked.

“Nothing,” I panicked. He had no idea my magic wasn’t just a show.

“Where the hell is she,” he started to lose his patience.

“I don’t know,” a tear dropped from my eye. I ran back to the box and tried to remember how I lived life before her. I needed my girl back, but didn’t know where I had sent her.

Other than magic what love is there?

Day 251 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a haunted carnival.

Erin: I’m the sole survivor of the carnival. Those who were not scared away found their way to a swift death. Why am I okay? Because I don’t run when the transparents come my way. I welcome them, I go on rides with them, and slowly I maybe am becoming one.

Shannon: I covered my head as I burrowed into my boyfriend’s shoulder for protection. I wouldn’t let myself look up until I felt the ride stop, and even then I was hesitant to open my eyes.

“It wasn’t that scary, was it,” he questioned, as I looked around afraid of the image that might sneak up on me.

“You weren’t scared of the girl on the tracks. Her face was terrifying.” I tried to push the picture out of my mind.

“What girl?”

I felt my blood immediately rush through my veins, “Are you joking, because this isn’t funny?” He shook his head, genuinely. “We need to leave, now,” I demanded.

Reveal your spooky carnival.

Day 250 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Pick out a theme song for your character’s life.

Shannon: “Suddenly I See” by KT Tunstall

Erin: “Crying in the Club” by Camila Cabello

What song encompasses a day in the life of your character?

Day 249 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a society that uses something unique as currency.

Erin: The thing about money is that it is only paper and cheap metal. When the value of it returns to just that, all prestige from wealth dissipated. When the value of the dollar was diminished to that of dust that’s exactly what happened. The only value of a citizen was the goods they could produce and the services they could provide. If one of ours couldn’t trade their value for what others could provide they were on their own. There was no easy way out. Life was hard and working to get work back was an exhausting cycle lacking rest.

The rich became poor and the poor became rich. The famous couldn’t get the time of day from anyone, and those who made a living off of their trade suddenly knew the only professions that counted in an eye for an ear society.

Shannon: In my town we pay for things with potions and spells. Magic is the currency because when you can conjure up everything you could ever need, who needs money? You do have to be good with spells, if you’re going to sell them. Keeping up a good reputation is very important. Otherwise, no one will buy your goods, and you have to come up with a different way to survive.

What type of bacon do your characters bring home.

Day 248 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a scene that addresses skin color.

Shannon: “You have spots on your skin,” the student next to me observed in a whisper. He seemed so aloof normally. I couldn’t believe I let him of all people catch me.

“I spilled some dye on it this morning. By the time I found it, I couldn’t get it off,” I recited the lie my family helped me come up, but that I never had to use until now.

‘Then why did you skin look the same way a week ago? You’re not supposed to be here, are you?”

Lying at this point didn’t seem smart, “Who did you tell,” I questioned, pleading for mercy with my eyes.

“I didn’t tell anyone, and I’m not going to, but you need to be careful. Don’t let them take you,” he warned, seeming to know more then he was willing to reveal.

Erin: “How come I can’t wear the dresses like the other girls in my class?” The youngest of my sisters was cute enough to be in commercials. She was made to wear dresses, we knew this because she owned some. My mother bought them for our family celebrations. I insisted that the cost was not worth the slim chance we got to wear them, but our mother found joy in those few days we could.

“You know we must cover our arms,” I tried to pull her right off the topic.

“Why? What’s wrong with purple,” she still didn’t know. She didn’t know that our arms were a sign of our past. Our mother’s contamination was a color that would be painted on our ancestors for years to come.

“There is nothing wrong with us sweetie. It just tells a story that not everyone is accepting of,” I tried to be vague.

“What story,” she continued to push.

“A story of choices, and places. You’ll learn more in time,” I promised. I could only hope the rest of society would as well.

How is skin color viewed in this society?