Day 158 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a scary campfire story.

Shannon: Someone once shared with me the story of the house that was hidden away in these woods, and now I’ll share it with you. The family who lived in the house wanted to be as isolated as possible from the rest of the world, because they were hiding away an ugly truth. They were embarrassed by their own daughter’s appearance, and public opinion only fueled their hatred.

She was born with a unique mutation that made her translucent skin cling tightly to her bones. Her nose never fully developed, she had red eyes, and long black hair. The whole town steered clear of her, and other children would run away crying if they caught a glimpse of her. She was a constant reminder of their failure to produce a healthy child.

They tried everything they could to make the world accept her from putting her in a mask, coating her with makeup, and covering as much bare skin with clothes as they could but nothing could change anyone’s mind so they went away, hoping to live in peace.

However, over time the seclusion ate away at her mother, and she start to resent her daughter for all she had taken away from the family. She started demanding more from her child, didn’t go a day without yelling at her, and found every possible reason to enforce cruel punishments. She made her wear the mask again for the whole day and throughout the night, and the girl became a prisoner to her own existence. One night the mask made breathing hard, but she feared the punishment so much she let it suffocate her in her sleep.

It’s believed that her soul roams free in these woods to this day, and she’s not wearing a mask. The sight of her may terrify you as well, but try not scream and upset her. You should also know she envies pretty faces. She has a whole collection and can quickly rip your’s off as you sleep. I’ve been told if you see her when you open your eyes, it’s already too late.

Erin: I remember the first time I ever went camping. There was no way I could forget it really. I was sitting around the campfire with the group. My best friend was sitting next to me completely satisfied with the smore she considered perfect. I preferred a nice charred exterior, but to each there own and that was beside the point. We started to sing a song the counselor had taught us. The lyrics were strange.

“In the glow of the moon, we use our tune to summoned the loon.”

When the final verse left our lips the fire road into a brighter bigger blaze, reaching for the sky. I looked right into the heart of it and saw the face of an exhausted looking man.

“Who is that,” I barely managed to muster as my shaking hand pointed at the fire. When my finger landed on him he flashed a crazed grin, missing two of his teeth.

“Don’t point at him he doesn’t like that,” our counselor warned two late and my friend started crying as the blaze ran out of the fire pit and made a burning path to the woods.

My heart started to race as I saw the face turn into a body and the body separated from the fire. The fire created mass destruction of the campgrounds in a short period, but when the man disappeared into the woods the flames extinguished in seconds.

Our camp counselor explained how the camp used to be a place for psychologically unstable adults to stay for a few weeks and how the loon was the outcast of one of the groups. He continued to haunt the grounds to avenge the experience he had. Unable to recognize that new campers were not the ones from his experience, the innocent newbies faced his little pranks.

Our counselor had been trying to set him free and she believed we did that night. I don’t know if that was the answer to the problem however. Because the cabins were burned and we had to sleep under the stars. Most importantly he was not the only one set free in that campground. My best friend, among others, also disappeared that night.

Classic story time meets your story time, put your own spin on the tradition.

Day 157 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about neighbors who mutually hate each other.

Erin: “Loud enough yesterday,” bill yelled over as we exited our doors at the same time.

“Spying obviously enough,” I snapped back.

“Are you kidding me,” he scoffed.

“I saw your blinds open and your face peak out,” I elaborated.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You actually like me maybe.”

“Or I was planning my attack,” he corrected.

“What,” I tried to follow him but he just hopped in his truck. “What are you planning,” I yelled as he drove away.

Shannon: I walked up his driveway on a mission. I’d put up with a lot since he moved in, and I liked to believe that I choose my battle with him wisely. Well, most of the time. I pressed his doorbell about five times without a pausing to wait for a response. Now usually I’d hate myself for being this brand of annoying, but I’d learned it was the only way to reach him.

“What the hell,” he opened the door on my last ring. “Oh it’s you,” he rolled his eyes.

“Turn the speakers down,” I got right to the point. “I’m taking a timed test and I can’t hear myself think.”

“It seems like this is a worse use of your time,” he shrugged, “but hey I’d love to see you fail.”

“No trust me the trip is worth it. Please it’s just an hour and I won’t bug you again after that,” I attempted to beg.

“Ok an hour, but we start practicing again at exactly that time starting now,” he held up his phone. “If my band loses the competition this weekend I’m blaming you and cursing you,” he twinkled his fingers like he was casting a spell.

“You always do” I smirked and shook my head.

Put two people who hate each other in close proximity.

Day 156 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character that can manipulate one of the four elements.

Shannon: “Hey Dahlia,” I heard his snobby voice above my head, and as usual it made my skin crawl. I looked back to see he was sitting in the tree, legs resting on a large branch. “Does it bug you that I can destroy everything you ever you’ve ever created in a matter of seconds,” Ryker questioned juggling a flame between his hands.

I usually ignored his threats, trying to keep the peace and prevent him from ever acting to prove the strength of his power. However, as I looked at my garden of flowers I couldn’t hold tongue any longer. “You think I’m afraid of you ability to destroy,” I got up to move closer.

“I think you should be,” he held the flame close to the tree’s bark to tease me, but I didn’t react. I wasn’t going to beg, not this time.

“Destruction is easy. You don’t think I couldn’t do just as damage as you, if that was what I really wanted? Anyone could,” my blood was boiling and I was starting to get louder. I must have kept my anger in too long. “Destruction is not unique, and it’s not impressive. It’s weak, and it’s a quick way out of tough situation. Creating something that makes a difference in someone’s life, now that’s hard. That takes a lot more thought and effort than a quick flick of a wrist. What have you ever built, but a firestorm that ruins every good thing it touches? But go ahead burn it all,” I pointed at a harmless patch of life. “When the flames are out you’ll have so much left to show for it, and sadly I know you’ll be so proud.” I breathed out shaking my head. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the flowers, admiring them one last time before walking away.

“Hey,” he yelled as I heard him jump to the ground. I turned back, ready for him to throw the flame at me, but it was already out and it wasn’t in my flowers either. “I can create warmth. Isn’t that good?” He seemed conflicted, and his face was strained as he waited for my response. Apparently he didn’t need me to point out what he already knew.

“Warmth is good,” I agreed, “Warmth is really good.”

Erin: “There is no way that we are going to be able to get to the other side of the mountains in time.”

“Says who,” I challenged rubbing my hands together.

“Me, math, science, any kind of logic.”

“Well you all clearly don’t know me,” I thrust my hand at the first mountain and it sprouted pink flowers.

“Wow, pretty flowers will make up for our impending doom,” she challenged starting to walk with a chuckle.

“Don’t doubt me,” I pointed at the next mountain and it turned orange, the next only grew bigger until I got to the forth and it disappeared. I continued that motion rapidly until our path was clear and drivable.

“How did you…”

“I told you I can manipulate the earth with my mind. Whose sanity are you questioning now?”

Which of the four will your character get?

Day 155 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character traveling in an unknown universe.

Erin: No one told me that the experimental rocket ball was going to be shot straight out of our universe. The one I was in now had an atmosphere more reminiscent of water than a gas, only more gelatinous. The goo had a purple tinge. There was little planet like squares every mile or so. All the sudden out of nowhere I was flipped upside down and could not steer the ship at all to get it flipped back up. I was starting to feel the blood rush to my head, but that was not my major concern. My number one worry was that I was not the only creature in this universe.

Shannon: From the helicopter I could see the ground was divided into sections of color, instead of objects. It looked like a completed trivial pursuit game piece with all the colors meeting at the center, and the separation line wasn’t jagged. It was a perfectly straight divide, and I didn’t know how it was possible. I was flying over the blue zone into the purple one as a felt a little turbulence and the color of the sky and clouds completely change to purple as well. It was as if each zone was protected by it’s own little dome. I wanted a closer look and I saw an open field for me to land just on the outskirts of the town. Hopefully its inhabitants were friendly.

I stepped out cautiously, expecting an angry crowd to have heard or seen my arrival. “Hey you can’t…” a man’s voice yelled from a distance and I couldn’t yet make out where he was coming from. Suddenly in a flash he was right in front of me, and I couldn’t stop myself from flinching. “What are you?” he questioned, examining my appearance as I examined his. He looked human, but his skin was covered in sliver scales that sparkled like glitter. His eyes were an intense purple, and his hair was a darker shade. All of his clothes were violet too. I watched his plum colored eyebrows lower as I felt his impatience with my lack of response.

“I’m a human and I’m lost,” I explained, confused by how we could speak the same language if he didn’t know what I was.

He looked shocked. “Seriously,” a smile lit up his face.

Bring your character out of this world.

Day 154 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Start with the line, “I don’t know how I got here.”

Shannon: I don’t know how I got here. My ears were ringing and my body ached as I laid on the ground looking up at the sky.  I had to pick up my head slowly, and as I expected a sharp pain surged through my skull. I took a few breaths in and out to muster enough courage to turn my head from side to side. I saw a few small patches of flames and other people lying on the ground. Who were they? Why couldn’t I remember what happened? I didn’t even remember what I was doing today. All I could remember was going to sleep the night before.

A man came over to me and got down to help me as I sat up. His mouth was moving but the world was silent. I hadn’t even noticed I’d lost my hearing, and in the moment I couldn’t give into the possibility it could be gone forever. “I can’t hear you,” I explained, realizing how strange it was to talk without hearing my own voice. He gave me a sympathetic look and put his palms up, motioning for me to stay put, before he got up to rush to the next person.

Erin: “I don’t know how I got here.”

“What do you mean?” My boyfriend looked at me like I was completely insane.

“Not like how I got here, I elaborated. But like as a person, how I got to this place.”

“What are you talking about,” I wasn’t surprised when he immediately lost his patience.

“I’m sick of trying to keep you happy,” it spilled out without my conscious decision.

“What?”

“You are so needy. I’m terrified to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing. So, I try and be easy, which is terribly exhausting, because you are not perceptive in the least. You take and take all of my energy, and give nothing back. I can’t live like this.”

“Well then don’t, I’ll leave,” he got up and stormed out. That was not my plan, but to be honest the second he was out the door I felt my old spirit entering my body. I had been longing for her to come back for years and didn’t even know it.

Put your character somewhere, without them knowing.

Day 153 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write the story of these pictures.

Erin: I pulled the hood to cover my face and strain to see the center of the water. For a second I thought the flicker of the moon on the water was the sparkler. I checked my pocket watch. The time should have reassured me that I could relax, but it didn’t.

As I sat waiting for my cue I noticed a family going to the hotdog stand that had the bomb planted. The mom squatted down to ask the little boy what he wanted on his. His little face scrunched up and I could see the struggle in his eyes. He didn’t know and his sister started shouting out suggestions. He shook her away with his hand.

She giggled and went up to make her own order. When his mother made a soft suggestion, he listened to her. He went up to tell the worker his choice. The young kid behind the stand listened and after a few attempts at translating, realized he just wanted a naked dog.

I could feel the magic sparkler raising from under the water, but I chose not to turn around. I would take my own death over strangers any day.

Shannon: With what looked to be a full body skin suit under his clothes, it was clear I wasn’t allowed to know any distinguishing details about my new partner’s appearance. He got up from the building’s ledge only to dangle a pocket watch in front of me without making a single sound. Was he really a partner, or just here to make sure I was staying on task?

He curled his fabric-covered finger to direct me to follow him. He was starting to give off a grim reaper vibe, and I was hesitant to continue for the first time since starting the competition. He turned around to stare, or at least that’s what I could only assume he was doing. He tilted his head. Then he backed up to lean on the ledge and crossed his arms, waiting.

“I’m not a quitter, but I’m not stupid. Is the next challenge dangerous?”

He shrugged and lifted his arms.

“Could one of us die?”

He slowly shook his head from side to side. Then he placed his hands on his chest and soon pointed at me.

For some reason I was confident I understood him. “Are you my protector?”

He nodded once. “Fine, let’s go,” I agreed, now that I understood someone was looking out for me.

I followed him to the next arena and he lead me to the challenge envelope: Hold your breath under water longer than it takes one of enclosed sparklers to burn out in your hand and you can advance to the next round.

Use the pictures and write about the fire, shadows, and times.

Day 152 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character who gets to be a fly on the wall.

Shannon: I’ve always wondered what people talk about when I’m not around, and when I was first given the ability to spy on anything I could think of I figured that was what I wanted to do. Then I realized that I didn’t gain much from knowing what people had to say about me behind my back. I had the chance to be invisible for the day and I was about to waste it on other people’s opinions. The day should be spent getting passed locked doors. There were no limits. I could go wherever I wanted, preferably places where I wasn’t invited, observing people who lived very different lives. I couldn’t wait to see where the day would take me, and what I would learn.

Erin: I could not wait to hear what my management team had planned for me next. This was finally my chance. They never failed to hang up the conference call.

“God, she is such a pain.”

“Yes, and the face of the show. So, we’ll have to work with her.”

“I didn’t say anything about not working with her. Just that she is a pain. She makes our lives harder, but don’t we always have those co-workers.”

“Of course, one more season.”

As that was followed with a begrudging sigh I decided to speak up, “hopefully more.”

As you act as a a fly on your characters wall, let your character experience the same.

Day 151 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character who can’t wake up from a dream.

Erin: I knew the real world could not be so cruel when I saw the elephant sized clown. I decided then and there to wake up. I didn’t though. I had many times in the past, but my real eyes would not open. Wake up I screamed, but that only startled the clown into chasing me. I decided if I could not wake up I would change the story. I tried to shrink the clown in my mind, but he just kept getting bigger. All I could do was run, so I did. It was starting to look like my only way out was to die. For whatever strange reason that scared me, even with the knowledge of my dreaming state.

Shannon: I snuck down the wooden staircase, trying to find the cause of the loud noise. About halfway down I realized I was dreaming as black branches crawled up the steps and tangled my feet like snakes. They moved up to cover my entire body. Within seconds my vision went dark and I could tell I was being dragged. I tried to open my eyes to wake up, but they were locked shut. I couldn’t move anything. I was paralyzed and I couldn’t feel my soft bed underneath me. I felt weightless. When I finally opened my eyes I was looking at a clear sky above some trees until an old woman appeared in my line of vision. By the frightening smile on her face, I knew I was still dreaming.

Write about a never ending dream.

Day 150 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: A character finds beauty in something most would consider ugly.

Shannon: I have always had this thing for insects. I know most girls run away in terror at the sight of one, but me I’m always the weirdo who sticks around to take a closer look. The way I see it, most people get excited over puppies and kittens, but I see the same adorable qualities in bugs. They are mini living creatures, somehow surviving in a world that wasn’t built for their success, what’s not to admire about that kind of resilience?

Erin: I knew Buddy was a good choice the day I saw him. He was on his last leg at the shelter, because he wasn’t a stereotypical cute dog.  He had one eye permanently closed. His mouth came up in a little scowl. He was the most beautiful soul though and that I knew. He was the happiest dog when he greeted people and the sweetest snuggler when I was upset. Whatever emotion people needed he emitted and that made him the most gorgeous dog I could picture. `

Beauty is in the eye of your character.

Day 149 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Include the words cellar, whisk, and beggar.

Erin: There is a reason I refuse to go into the cellar. When I was a kid the beggar from downtown had found his way into the storm window and camped out in the corner. When I was playing hide-and-seek, I found him while I was running around looking for my brother. I was immediately terrified. He wasn’t looking to harm anyone, just looking for warmth, but since then I was terrified of finding something even more unsettling. So, when I was forced to clean out my parent’s wine cellar it was time for me to break my fear. I did, and the only unexpected thing I found was a whisk my mother must have forgot in the midst of cooking and grabbing a bottle. Replacing my old memory with one of remembrance of my mother’s nature helped me move on and for that I was grateful.

Shannon: “I need your help right away. You can set your stuff in the bedroom next to wine cellar. If I find even one bottle missing from those shelves I’ll kick you back out on the streets and you’ll be a beggar again. I’ll make sure you never find another job in this town. I don’t take you as the type to bite the hand that feds you, but I’ve been wronged before,” the older women explained as she directed me to the dark stairs. When I waited at the top she got a little impatient, “What’s wrong, what are you waiting for?”

“It’s dark,” I twitched. “Is there a light somewhere?”

She reached for the switch by the doorway. “Are you afraid of the dark,” she questioned.

I nodded, looking down, relaxed by the illumination.

“There is a switch near the door in every room. Do you think you’ll be ok, or do you want me show you?”

I tried to hold back my head from jerking, but I knew I looked uncomfortable. “No I’ll be fine,” I was telling the truth.

“Good, there is a shower down next to your bed room. Once you get cleaned up and changed into the uniform I gave you, come up here and I’ll teach you how to use a dough whisk. Move as quick as you can. The bread has to be ready by tomorrow morning,” she patted my back. I was happy she understood my movements. She seemed to know I couldn’t control them, and they weren’t a reflection of my feelings. It usually took people a lot longer to gain even a slight understanding of my disease.

Three words of your story is already done.