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?

Day 121 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: A fight scene using unusual objects as weapons or a fight scene using magical powers.

Erin: “The babies are so calm today,” Mary pointed out looking into one of the cribs.

“Yeah, what is up with that,” I questioned also taking a peak.

“They have been sleeping all day,” she pointed out.

“That’s impossible,” I concluded placing my hand on little Abigale. She wasn’t even doing her little baby snore. I took a moment to scan the room. I spotted a couple eyes and grabbed the first rattle I could reach. I let out a violent shake releasing the rattle as my aim went to the head of the intruder.

The toy bounced off his head and he immediately grabbed for the baby powder. I covered my head with a diaper before the powder could enter my eyes. Before I knew it, there was baby blanket being tied around my legs and arms. Then a pacifier was forced into my mouth. I tried to shout but couldn’t form any words with my mouth full.

“Get off of our babysitter,” I heard what sounded like a baby speaking perfect English.

Shannon: “Remind me again why you sent me in here without at least one last resort weapon,” I spoke out loud, speaking to my mentor who was watching the chaos play out on my body camera.

“You don’t need a last resort,” Hugh advised. “I wouldn’t send you in if I thought you needed a last resort. If I ever give you one it means I don’t trust you’ll make it out alive. You’re good kid. I have complete confidence in you. You’ll be fine. The weapons are all around you, remember your training and I’ve got your back.”

I let out a laugh. “You’ve got eyes on my back, you don’t really have my back,” I corrected his wording. “I’m still the one who has to do all the dirty work.”

“Yeah, yeah we’ll see if you’re still singing the same tune by the end of the night,” he sounded so calm but my adrenaline was just kicking in.

There were six of them and I had to narrow them down, quietly. They hadn’t spotted me yet. I was hiding behind the bar to scope out my next best attack points. I found a bottle of vodka under the table and poured it into a glass. The first one to snoop around to my side was in for a rude awakening when I threw it in his face, temporarily blinding him. I covered his mouth before he could yell and took him down in a headlock until he passed out. One down.

The next target was pacing back and forth in front of the abandoned band instruments. This should be fun. I snuck around to the back and hid behind the gong. One of the cymbals looked about right for a sneak attack. The second his back was turned to me, I grabbed it and quickly ran and swung, knocking him out. Two down.

His buddy saw me calling the others as he lunged at me with a knife, which I deflected with the cymbal shield. I did a twist move with my wrist, successfully knocking both of our weapons out of our hands. He picked up a trombone and started swinging it at me, and to avoid it I fell backwards landing on a chair next to a bassoon. That would work. I picked it up and wielded it like a pole. After a sword-like fight I took him down too.

Three down, three to go.

Pick your character’s weapon of choice?

Day 120 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a character who has to say everything on their mind or about a character who loses the ability to speak completely.

Shannon: “Oh, did you run out of ink?” Ben gave me a pity-filled pout. “Looks like you can’t help anymore. Darn,” he snapped his finger sarcastically.

I dug around in my backpack, looking for another marker. I was supposed to restock yesterday, but I forgot. The dried out ones were all already thrown out, and nobody ever wanted to help offer a spare, even though they’d be handing me my voice. I wasn’t deaf, so no one believed I was actually mute. Group work was hell, especially when they’d ignore most of the objects I’d used to share my thoughts. Reading was a hassle, hence I was a hassle as a partner, and nobody wanted to deal with me.

I pulled out a notebook and pencil anyway. I wasn’t giving up that easy. I could help them with the trivia question. We could win the extra credit, if they would trust me.

They were struggling with the logic riddle on the board, but after writing it out I had the answer a few seconds later. I tapped Derek’s shoulder but he swatted his hand like I was fly buzzing around his head.

“Helen stop,” Ben took the notebook and slammed it on the table. “You’re done. If you can’t explain quickly, it’s going to take too long to check your work and then we’ll lose. Just give up,” he held it down on the table.

“The blue team has it! They win this round,” the teacher announced before writing the answer on the board. The same one I had on the page Ben was currently smothering.

“Thanks a lot Helen,” Derek rolled his eyes.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t. I wanted to argue, but it didn’t have the same effect on paper. Not to mention people typically stop reading when they find out they’re being criticized. Instead I slammed my fist down on Ben’s hand and he retreated. “You freak,” he yelled loud enough for the whole room to hear.

I scowled at him as I took my back my notebook, picked up my backpack, and stormed out of the room.

Erin: “You’re annoying me,” came out of my mouth before I could reign it back in.

“What,” my boyfriend asked.

“I can’t stand how you stand how you sound when you chew,” I elaborated. I don’t know what came over me. There was no point in me telling him that. He chewed just fine. His mouth was closed he had a nice slow pace. A lot of people’s chewing annoyed me, no need to let him know his was one of them.

“Yeah anything else that annoys you about me,” he asked placing his fork back down and cocking his head to the side.

“Well yeah. You worry too much, you freak out when I do the smallest things, and feel like we are constantly on the verge of breaking up,” I smacked my hand to my mouth the second after I said it.

“And you thought it was necessary to aware me of all of this over brunch,” he smacked his hands to the table.

I looked to my plate of eggs in shame when I noticed a mystery purple powder. That’s when I realized there was a reason I was about to only get more honest.

Why is your character struggling with communication?

Day 119 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Bring your story to conclusion by talking about time.

Erin: “She’s not breathing,” she’s not breathing a young woman shouted from the front.

Without thinking I jumped off of the 10-foot-tall stage without thinking. I grabbed the even younger woman and brought her body down to the floor. I had been so extensively trained in CPR as a lifeguard that it came as second nature to me. “Call 911,” I shouted as I pushed on the passed-out one’s chest.

The ambulance made it. The girl made it. I was told that was because of me. That’s when I concluded that my life changing moment had nothing to do with giving big inspirational speeches about how I could never work for anyone. My life changing moment was realizing that I could.

I just needed to find a person who wanted the work that I wanted to give. I wanted to save lives. I save lives to this day at the children’s hospital. If you want to see being thrown into the trenches, don’t look to performers. There is a lot of views, but what is the real risk to them. The first time I had a little life in my hand is a moment no one can prepare for.

In that regard, I feel no more like an expert today than I did the day I saved my first life. Those 30 seconds were just as significant as the last 30 years. They made them possible. It’s funny how the weight of time is not always dependent on the longevity, but more what you fill it with.

Shannon: I was the last one to make it to the door, so that may have been the reason the hand abruptly landed on my shoulder, but then again, the strange voice did know my name.

“Jenifer, please wait. I won’t hurt you, please calm down,” the voice whispered, sounding nonthreatening, but I could feel my heartbeat throughout my whole body. A hand reached over me to push the door shut with a loud smack.

I turned around, to peak at who I was dealing with, and I had to blink a few time to believe was I was seeing. “Mr. Withers? But you’re dead”

“I know.”

“Are you a ghost?”

He shook his head and handed me a newspaper then pointed to the date. It was from next Monday, a date that didn’t exist yet, but it looked so real. Then he pointed to the top story. I was in the picture along with the group and we were standing next to a large machine. The title read: Local High School Students Build Time Machine.

I laughed. “Yeah right,” I shook my head.

“It’s my time machine,” he explained, putting the paper back into his large coat pocket. “I’m from the past, and I’ve seen the future. After this is reveal to the public it gets into the wrong hands. I’ve come to destroy the machine, but at its current power I can only stay here for so long. I need you to do it, and I need you to keep your friends away.” He handed me a piece of paper. “Here are some directions. You’ll want to follow them, since the materials are a bit dangerous. There’s a list on there that explains what will happen if you don’t follow through too. Quick, I’ll show you the machine.”

I nodded, thinking I would wake up from the dream at any moment. We walked to the room and he revealed the bright blue light was inside a large tube contraption. I searched for the record player and it was behind the machine, “What’s with the music? And how did you do the phone thing?” I wanted to understand.

“The music keeps people away, and I have this to turn off phones,” he held out what looked like a handheld clicker. “Some technology from the future.”

“So why trust me? I could easily tell everyone as soon as you leave,” I was still confused.

“I know you’ll do the right thing,” he smirked. “I’ve seen another future, and if you follow through we’ll meet again, and I’ll have some very important news for you at that moment. But only if we meet again.”

And now we end our week of the unexpected, how did your story turn out?

Day 118 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Create panic in your story.

Shannon: “It’s a fake school skeleton he could have been a teacher or something else,” I pointed out since Mark made such big deal out of it.

“Or he made it look like a fake skeleton,” Mark was stretching it.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure he could make it look that clean,” I pointed to the flawless bones.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes before shutting the door. “It’s still creepy to keep something like this in the closet.”

“It freaked me out,” Ally shrugged.

I was about to scowl at her, but suddenly the lights turned off. “What’s going on,” Pete questioned, sounding as nervous as I felt.

“Did you lock the door,” Mark whispered to Jim.

“Yes,” he quickly replied. “Maybe they turned off his power,” he tried to come up with a less terrifying reason.

Within a second Mark’s phone light went off and it was pitch black. “Mark come on, turn it back on,” Ally demanded impatiently.

“Its dead or something. I can’t turn it back on. Does someone else have a phone?”

I pulled out mine to test it out along with everyone else. “Shit,” I heard Ally’s voice starting to crack. “It’s dead.”

“Mine too,” I added, freaking out since it was fully charged 15 minutes ago. I hoped Pete or Jim would save the day, but they both had the same problem. “It’s time to go,” I stated out loud, afraid to go off alone.

A blue glow appeared and it was almost worse than the dark. The light was located in a room we hadn’t explored yet, so we were only illuminated by a dull glow. I was afraid to look past the familiar faces, thinking a new one could have appeared in the darkness. A record player started playing a chilling song, and no one had to say anything this time. We all had the same idea as we ran for the door. 

Erin: Snap out of it. I could do it, I knew a lot about starting a small business. I didn’t need to be a great public speaker to help people with that.

“It all started when I hurt my,” in the middle of my “how I knew I needed my own business” story there was a loud screeching.

What’s the uproar about?

Day 117 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Incorporate the word “skeleton.”

Erin: When I walked out onto the stage the bright lights hit me. I squinted and tried to imagine that I was at home looking into the lamp that overlapped my line of sight in bed. It didn’t work. I turned into a skeleton of my bubbly self as my brain could not be tricked by my hopes.

Shannon: “I can’t do this,” I stated, shaking my head as we all stood outside the back door under the cover of night and behind Mr. Withers’ collection of backyard junk and unmanaged shrubs and trees. We were all waiting for Jim to finish picking the lock. “Please, can we just let this go? Let the man rest in peace.”

Mark turned his back, tuning me out. Pete put up his hands, “Calm down. It’s a quick peak and we’re already here. You don’t want to turn back now, do you?”

I didn’t need more than a second to think about it. “Yes I do,” I turned to walk away as I heard Jim quietly celebrating over the open door. Ally took ahold of my shoulders and I tried to shake her off, but her grip was strong. “No. We all waited too long. I’m not letting you miss out. You’ve come this far,” she maneuvered in front of me. “I won’t let you miss out on this,” she tried to lead me back.

“It feels wrong,” I wouldn’t budge.

She looked to the side and then back to me. “Well I think it shows we actually cared about him. Everybody else in the neighborhood is just going to forget and act like he never existed, because he was strange. At least he mattered to us.”

I furrowed my brow, “Only because you thought he was weird,” I argued, annoyed, and a bit too loud.

“Jen be quiet,” Jim whispered. “Are coming in or not?”

“Coming,” Ally answered for me and hooked my arm with hers until we were inside. Then she quickly abandoned me to cozy up to Mark as her new shield.

I went off on my own to look around right after Jim switched on a light. You never knew if the man was home, because his curtains were always closed and not even the slightest sliver of light would ever show through them, so we were sure we were safe.

I heard Ally scream, and it made me jump. “I knew it,” Mark called out. They were way ahead of us since he was using the flashlight on his phone. “Come see this,” he yelled.

We quickly walked over to see they had opened one of his closets and they were flashing a light on a skeleton hanging up. I felt a surge of panic. It looked like one you’d see in classroom, but I still wasn’t expecting it. Maybe their suspicions were right. Maybe he did have something to hide.

Throw a skeleton into your story.