Giving Myself Time to Write: April 19 Wordbound

Another excerpt from my April Camp NaNoWriMo story.

That night, Allison, Aaron, Ryan, and Crystal chose a graveyard to search. They moved in and out of the tombstones, looking for any sign of vampires. They had seen on the news that a body drained of blood had been found in the area.

“Guys, this place really gives me the creeps,” Crystal said, clutching her cross and bottle of holy water tight. “Can’t we look somewhere else?”

“This is probably the most likely place where we’ll find them,” Allison replied, eyeing a mausoleum. “I’m going to check in here.”

“Be my guest,” Ryan said, looking as scared as Crystal was.  He walked nearer to her. “Strength in numbers, remember that. Plus, you did well today. I think you have a shot at defending yourself.”

“You serious?” Crystal asked, looking up at him. He nodded. Somewhere in the graveyard, a twig snapped. Crystal jumped and grabbed Ryan’s hand, holding it tight.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I don’t think it was anything,” Ryan answered. “But stay close just in case.” They continued to follow Aaron who was a few yards ahead of them, surveying the ground with a flashlight. Behind them, Allison walked out of the mausoleum, looking disappointed.

“Nothing in there,” she said, closing the door. “I guess this might be a bust after all.” She jogged to catch up with Crystal and Ryan. She noticed something, and gave both of them a confused look.

“Why are you guys holding hands?” Ryan and Crystal looked down, and quickly let go of each other.

“No reason,” Ryan answered, turning red.

“Yeah, whatever,” Crystal said, looking at the ground. “We should catch up to Mr. Perez.” They quickened their pace. But before they could reach him, they saw a shadow leap out from behind a nearby tree and tackle him.

Giving Myself Time to Write: April 12 Wordbound

With school and kittens and emotional drainage, it's no wonder I haven't felt like writing recently. But that all ends now. I'm giving myself time to write every Saturday and Sunday until NaNoWriMo starts. Whether it's on my own stuff or prompts, I'll be writing.

April 12: Include something that must be whispered.

"This is stupid," April said to her friends as they sat down in a circle. "We're in high school, we're too old to play telephone."

"Oh come one April," said her friend June sitting next to her. "Where's your inner child?"

"She died, along with my soul," April replied sarcastically.

"There goes April showers again," October said snickering. "Always gotta be the wet blanket." April rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, let's just get this over with."

"September, you're first," said January. April sighed. It was always like January to take control. She was so bossy. September nodded, thought for a second, and then giggled as she turned to August and whispered in her ear. August giggled and repeated the message to July. So it went around the circle of twelve girls. April sighed as May leaned towards her.

"Monday has a big butt," she whispered in her ear. April made a face. What that supposed to be funny. She rolled her eyes again and turned to March, repeating the words quickly. March looked confused, but shrugged and passed the message along. It finally reached October, who looked equally confused.

"What was the message?" January asked.

"Um, money has a big nut?" The other girls burst out laughing. April smiled, then caught herself and stopped.

"What was the message then?" asked December, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Monday has a big but!" September shouted out. The others laughed even harder. April looked down at the ground.

"That's so easy, how did it get messed up?" asked May.

"I heard money has a big nut," March said. The rest of the girls looked at her, then turned their gaze towards April.

"So you messed it up," January said accusingly.

"And if I did?" April asked defensively. "It's a stupid game. That's the point of it."

"April, I'm starting to think that you take things too seriously," January replied in a voice that hinted she was talking down to her. "Maybe you should go and think about that."

"If that means I can get away from you guys, I welcome it." Without waiting for permission, April got up and walked away from the group. In the other room, she heard the girls talking and then they all laughed. Probably talking about her. Rolling her eyes, she took out her cell phone.

"Mom, can you come and get me? I want to come home."

April 5 Wordbound in late June

Since the first couple of prompts I need to catch up on are basically cut and paste they're easy to do.

Prompt: Feature a couple of your writing friends! How do you inspire each other?

So I have this friend. Well really he's my classmate but we've really bonded over music and writing. He's an insanely talented double bass player who ended up giving me an unmastered copy of his then-unreleased CD because of my presentation on how much I love to write with music. That CD really inspired me during NaNoWriMo. Since then we've really confided in each other and he's one of my best friends. He likes to write as well, so one time I gave him a Wordbound prompt. Here's what he camp up with. I hope he's okay with me posting this, but I think it deserves recognition because I really enjoyed it.

Alone.  And dark.  The faint light of the street barely slips through filthy, tattered curtains, past trembling strips of paint hanging on for dear life to rotten windowsills, softly defining shadows: the general dimensions of this room I am in, mounds of trash in the corners, a broken light bulb protruding from the bare socket in the ceiling.

Awareness seeps into my consciousness along with the pain.  Each injury comes slowly into focus, waving hello with its particular unique little cocktail of discomfort as I sort through my memory.  They got me good.  Must’ve choked me out after I didn’t go down when they bashed the back of my head.  Feels like they kicked a couple of ribs while I was down for good measure.  

My wallet is gone, of course.  And, unsurprisingly, my shoes.  The thought of one of them walking down the street in size 13 wingtip oxfords gives me a faint smile, replaced quickly as the facial stretch of my smile slightly moves the lump on the back of my head.  Is it bleeding?  It’s not, but it’s getting larger by the minute.  It’s gotta be the size of a grapefruit by now.  Injuries anywhere on the head feel about a hundred times bigger and more painful than anywhere else on the body.  I should know.  I’ve been injured a lot.  

Testing my limbs…I don’t think anything is broken.  I push and groan myself into a sitting position and try to figure out what the hell I’m gonna do now.  Can’t very well go all the way home with no shoes.  And I (obviously) didn’t get the stuff.  Can’t go home empty-handed or empty footed.  Walking 60 blocks in my socks only to see her eyes when I walk in without it? File that in the “not gonna happen” drawer.  

At least I know where I am.  I was actually surprised when they led me here.  There used to be a family that lived here.  Little girl with red hair.  It’s hard to be curious about their fate when so many have fallen.  My friend Pete lives a couple of blocks away.  He’s a tall guy.  I bet I can borrow a pair of shoes that aren’t ridiculously small and get him to lend me twenty bucks so I can buy enough to last a few hours.

 

At least Pete lives alone.  No wife or kids to be upset when I knock on his door in the middle of the night.  He’s always up working on some project.  Soldering impossibly tiny circuit boards or hammering out chess problems.  When I’m around him I start to feel lazy.  I tend to spend time carelessly, barely noticing as the hours turn into days, but Pete attacks the minutes as they flee past.  Probably part of the reason I don’t see him too much anymore.   That and the sadness. 

Alright.  I’ve spent long enough sitting here.  It stinks, even though my nose had plenty of time to habituate to the fetid aroma of poverty and abandonment.  I stand up slowly, allowing the dizziness to subside, and make my way down to the street.  It’s quiet.  Can it be that late?  I wonder how long I was out. 

March 29 Wordbound in late June

Between Camp NaNoWriMo, finals, house sitting, the magic that was Camp Rising Sun, the post-camp depression, summer classes, AND the Final Fantasy expansion I've been in a really bad writing slump. Hence this prompt will be an excerpt from my Camp NaNoWriMo April novel Psycho.

Basically it's about a girl with a monster inside of her trying to bring down the corporation that did this to her with the help of an English teacher and two of his students. The scene takes place in the teacher's house where she spent the night in the guest room after a long night of hunting vampires and is about to leave to get kidnapped...I mean for work.

Prompt: A character opens someone else's desk drawer. What do they find?

Allison woke suddenly and sat up. For a moment she had forgotten where she was. Then the events of last night came to her and she began to relax. Looking at the alarm clock by the bed, she saw that it was 12:30 in the afternoon. Plenty of time to shower and make herself presentable for work. She got out of the bed and opened the door, peering out.

The house was eerily quiet. Allison shuddered, wondering if she should wait until she got home to shower. Deciding that she could wait, she walked down the hall to the balcony. But before she went down the stairs, she stopped and looked to her left, where Aaron’s room was. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt to look.

‘Do it,’ Psycho whispered in her brain.

“Doesn’t seem right to though,” Allison said. “I mean, he shared his secret with us. It should be enough right?”

‘So? I know you want to know more about him. I know you like him.’

“What? Definitely not. You know I can’t like anyone. They took that part out remember?”

‘Ah yes, of course. But still, you know you want to look.’ Allison hesitated, then sighed.

“Damn it.” She walked down the hallway and opened the first door to her right.

The room was massive, much larger than the one she had slept in, and at least twice the size of her apartment. There was a master four-poster bed with curtains, a large dresser, an old roll-top desk, and even an area by the window with an armchair and end table. Allison walked cautiously, as though she might get caught. She walked over to the desk and saw some papers on them. It looked as if they were papers Aaron needed to grade. She picked one up and grimaced at the abysmal writing. Setting it down, she reached out and opened one of the drawers. It was filled with office supplies. She was about to close it when something caught her eye. It was an envelope sticking out of a tray. She pulled it out and opened it, finding a letter.

My dear brother,

            By the time you read this, it will be too late for me. The Laboratories knows that I’ve been sneaking out information to the authorities in hopes of shutting them down. You know some of the things I’ve seen here are too terrible to mention. I don’t know how they found out but they did. Aaron, please don’t come looking for me, and please don’t avenge me like you tried to do mom and dad. I knew what I was doing and was prepared to face the consequences. But I have something I need you to do for me.

            Someone has escaped the laboratories. A test subject they were subjecting to awful methods. She killed many on the way out. Luckily, I was not in her way. I need you to find her and protect her. She could be the only person to bring down the Laboratories and stopping this disaster from happening. She was experiment number A111504, but we called her Allison. It’s so important that you find her and keep her safe Aaron. Please do this for me.

                        I love you brother,

                                    Alexandria

Allison dropped the letter, breathing hard. The house gave a loud creak and she jumped. Scrambling to pick up the letter, she placed it back in the envelope where she had found it and walked out of the room. She flew down the stairs and out the door, pausing for a moment to lock it. She walked quickly down the street, her head rearing, thoughts moving a million miles an hour.

Wordbound Wednesday: March 22

Pick a tweet from a friend and find a way to incorporate all words into your scene.

(I don't have any friends that use Twitter that I know of, so I found one I liked from someone I follow instead!)

_________________________________________________________________________________




Dominique was pissed off. She slammed her purse down on the table and flung herself into the bed, fuming. How dare they! She had been employed in the schools for years and they were forcing her out just like that? 'Budget cuts my ass,' she thought angrily. The principal had been looking for a reason to get rid of her for ages, just because she didn't kiss his ass like everyone else. She actually stood up for herself and her kids. And now she was out of a job. Realizing the severity of her situation, she began to cry as the door opened and her fiance Miguel walked in.

"Hey beautiful," he said, closing the door behind him. How was work?"

"They fired me," Dominique said wiping her eyes and sitting up. Miguel whipped his head around, looking at her.

"They did what?" he asked incredulously. He hurried over and sat next to her. "What happened?"

"Budget cuts," Dominique replied sarcastically. "But that cabron of a principal has been looking for a reason to get rid of me for ages, we all knew that. This just gave him an excuse."

"What about the union?" here fiance asked.

"They can't help me, not when we don't have the money. That asshole governor just keeps taking money away from us for her own stupid agendas."

"But you can get unemployment right?" asked Miguel. "Mi amor, we can't afford this apartment if both of us don't have jobs."

"I know okay?" Dominique snapped back, jumping up. "Trust me! I know! I know we're poor and we'll never get out of here and I thought I was secure! I just, I don't know what to do." She began to cry again, sinking to her knees. Miguel walked over and knelt in front of her.

"Dominique, it's going to be okay," he said gently. "We've been through worse, you know that."

"But we jut got done with that," she said, leaning into his chest. "We finally got ourselves out of that shitty apartment into a nice one and I can't imagine giving it up."

"We won't have to. You'll go down and file for unemployment, and I'll pick up some more shifts at the restaurant. Maybe you can still work, just at another school." Dominique nodded.

"It's just, I'll miss my kids," she said. "I finally got to know them and they were beginning to trust me. Everything was going so well. And now they're going to be split up and put in other classrooms. I'm just worried about them."

"I know you are," Miguel said, rubbing her shoulders. "But they're young. They can adapt. We'll be fine. Don't you worry okay mi amor. We can get through anything."

Dominique looked up at Miguel, smiling for the first time all day.

"I got lucky when I met you," she said.

"No, I got lucky." Miguel leaned down and kissed her. "Now, what do you say we see what's for dinner."

"Well, all I need is a glass of wine right now," Dominique replied getting up and walking to the pantry. She opened it and pulled out a bottle of red wine. "Where did you put the wine key?"

"In that drawer," Miguel answered pointing vaguely behind him as he looked in the freezer. Dominique rolled her eyes and opened drawers until she found it. Uncorking the wine, she grabbed a plastic cup from the cupboard and poured herself a glass. Meanwhile, Miguel pulled out a plastic bag.

"I just found some tamales your mom gave us for Christmas," he said. "What do you say?"

"Sounds good," Dominique replied, taking a long drink from her cup. She grabbed the bottle and topped off the cup. Miguel put the tamales on a plate and placed them in the microwave. He sat down on the bed and Dominique sat next to him, giving him the cup. He drank from it and gave it back to her.

"You'll see Dominique," he said as she leaned on his shoulder. "You have more gusto and more life in you than anyone can imagine. You'll get another job faster than you can say vamanos. Dominique smiled and took another long drink of wine.


(Unfortunately this story is based on a real life disaster scenario going on in the state of New Mexico, with Governor Susana Martinez taking more and more money from the school system and vetoing bills that give teachers more rights and freedoms to teach and take time off when they're sick without being penalized. There have been rumors going around of having a 4-day school week instead because there is not enough money to keep them open 5 days a week. Personally, I cannot wait until 2018 when we can oust that bitch and put someone in who gives a shit about us being the last state in education. Of course, with the new Secretary of Education, I doubt public schools will be around much longer.)

Wordbound Wednesday: March 15

A character is inspired by something they can't see.

So I was going to do my usual creative thinking for this prompt, but after what happened today I needed to write this.

Today we got back our midterms for our Applied Orthopedics class. I was nervous because I didn't feel prepared and the test left me wanting to cry. I was given a small glimmer of hope when I saw that the average was a 93, but that was crushed when I got my test back. I was a full 20 points below the average, and in my program, that constitutes a failing grade. As someone who isn't used to seeing that score, it was pretty hard, especially considering the average. Actually it was hard purely because of the average if the rest of the class hadn't done well it wouldn't have sucked so much. I felt like an absolute moron. What the hell was I doing there? I wanted to go into Orthopedics in the field. How was a supposed to do that when I couldn't even pass the damn midterm? And the worst part? The section I did the worst on was clinical application. So, as is my normal reaction to things like this, the tears came. And I couldn't stop them. I got sympathy and comfort from my classmates, and assurance that this wasn't going to cause me to fail the class, but at that moment I still felt stupid.

At this point, I have no idea what my grade is. I can't see it. And I won't be able to see it until they're posted at the end of the semester. All I have are percentages. My best friend did the math and as it turns out I can still pass the class with an A even if I do terrible on the midterm and final because of our other assignments. That being said, this would require me to get perfect scores on the other assignments, and I can already say that it won't happen. I'm good but not that good. I'll get As though, that much I know. Anyways, at some point my boyfriend came into the classroom during lunch and coaxed me into leaving and going on a walk with him (he's in the same graduate program I'm in but a year ahead). We talked it out and here comes the inspiration.

This entire semester, my focus has been on Neuroanatomy. I was told by pretty much EVERYONE that Neuro was the class to watch out for. So that's what I've been doing. And it's paid off. The "legendary" test our instructor boasted about was the one I've done the best on so far. But I was so focused on that class that I didn't really realize that my real battle would be with Applied Orthopedics. Plus I've had this instructor before and she's always talked up her hard midterms and finals when they've not been that bad. I studied, but we already have as many power point presentations as we had the entire semester last fall. (We had 16 last semester, and already have 15 halfway through this one!) But I'm licking my wounds, getting the five stages of grief out of the way. My boyfriend says he'll help me from now on and I'm officially going to start doing the reading (I'm really going to get the blame for not doing it, but honestly, the amount of reading assigned in each class is BEYOND ridiculous. Plus it's supplemental if you need clarification on class material, and I managed 4 As and 1 B+ with minimal reading last semester).

Graduate school is tough, and this semester I've definitely been feeling off, mostly because our class dynamic has changed and I'm realizing the people that I liked before are actually kind of awful and annoying and seriously you need to chill out! But if this is what I need to get back on the horse and kick ass, then so be it.

Anyways, I needed to write that for this week's prompt, and it feels good to get it all out.

Also as a post script, this image is proof that I have the best friends. Basically one of my closest friends bet me a dollar that I would do well on the midterm. He lost. But he still found a way to make me smile. He's the best.

Playing Catch Up! Word prompt March 8

After this prompt I will be officially caught up! Unfortunately, this will be kind of challenging for me. I'm just gonna wing it and see what happens.

Use numbers in an interesting way

She stared at the piece of paper in front of her, her mind going blank. Her heart beat faster and she began to feel anxiety bubbling up. She knew what she had to do. Just solve the equation before her competitor. But she couldn't move with everyone staring at her! She looked back up at the scree where the equation stared down at her menacingly.

Solve for x:


She took a shaky breath and picked up her pencil. Across from her, her opponent was already hard at work. Hand shaking, she wrote the equation down on the paper and began the problem.

"Subtract 4 from both sides."

5x = -5
2

"Multiply both sides by 2."

5x = -10

"Divide by 5 which gives me-"

Ding!

She grit her teeth in disappointment. She had hesitated too long. She had let her team down. This was the deciding factor and she had blew it!

"Contestant Kelly?" the judge asked.

"The answer is 2!" the other girl said confidently. Her heart leaped in her chest.

"I'm sorry, that's not the right answer," the judge said sympathetically. He looked at her. Contestant Hernandez, if you answer correctly, your school wins the competition.

She took a deep breath in her chest, willing herself to speak.

"The answer is -2," she said meekly.

"Correct! Congratulations to the winners, the Zuni Elementary Math Badgers!" There was a cheer behind her as the rest of her team came forward to hug her. She let out a sigh of relief and looked out in the audience, where her parents were beaming at her with joy.

Playing catch up! Word prompt from March 1

Take an author photo and write yourself a bio.

Not my best selfie, but whatever.

Kathryn S. is a 27-year-old Occupational Therapist in training. She is currently a full time graduate student learning all that she can and trying her best to be a total nerd in the mean time. When she's not frantically studying Neuroanatomy or writing epic tons of papers and projects, she enjoys spending hours on YouTube, browsing Facebook, playing Final Fantasy online, reading, and writing for pleasure. Kathryn currently lives in New Mexico with her boyfriend, roommates, and longs for a pet to call her own.

Playing Catch Up! Word Prompt from February 22

Man, field work really tired me out! Not to mention I've been spending my time trying to write the million and a half papers we have due in the next month so I can focus on Camp NaNoWriMo. Anyways, here's another word prompt! (Note: It's a spin-off scene from a book series I'm writing).

A character realizes something as they look up into the night sky

"Britannia, come look at this! They're finally pulling out of Vietnam!" Devon walked over and poked his older sister where she sat at the dinner table. Britannia started.

"What? What is it Devon?" she asked.

"Look!" Devon pointed at the television, where a camera was showing a crowd of soldiers and refugees being lifted onto a plane and flown away.

"Isn't it great?" Devon asked excitedly. Britannia tried to smile, but it only came out as a grimace.

"No, it is. It's a great victory for those who've lost their loved ones to this pointless war," she said.

"Britannia, you should be more excited!" Devon crossed his arms and turned away from her, walked back to the couch. "You know, since you got back from Washington D.C. you've been really moody. What happened out there?"

"What happened?" Britannia looked up and saw in a flash what had happened. She gasped. "It, it just got violent Devon that's all."

"Did you see people die?"

"The hell kind of question is that?" Britannia stood up quickly, looking angry. "Who asks that kind of question Devon. You have no idea what happened or what I went through!" She walked quickly to the front door and flung herself outside, slamming it behind her.

She walked halfway down the steps and hopped up onto the granite side rails, laying back. She sighed and brushed away the tears from her face. She had not meant to yell at her brother like that, but he had no idea what she had been through. She closed her eyes, trying to keep down the sobs that were rising. She could see it now, people running and screaming, magic lightning streaking across the air and the four people who meant the most to her disappearing in a flash. She had lost Christana shorty after when she disappeared...and ended right back in San Francisco. Her power to control the weather had been stripped from her. Britanna let out a quiet sob and sat up, rubbing her eyes roughly.

"No business crying about it," she said to herself. "We lost the war, and as far as I know I'm the only one of us that survived. I just need to forget that it ever happened and move on."

But how could she moved on? After everything that she had seen and gone through? After the people she had met and had come to know and love? How could she forget how it felt to save the universe?

Britannia laid back down, gazing up at the night sky which was clearing up from a recent storm. She looked up at the stars, and then gasped.

She saw not one, not two, but six shooting starts streak across the night sky. Sitting up, she looked down, realizing something. A smile began to creep across her face.

"It's not over yet, is it?"

Playing Catch Up! Wordbound Prompt from Feb. 15

Basically grad school hooked it's claws in me and did not let go! This week is my week long field work (clinicals basically) and while I still have tons of assignments to get done, I have a whole other week off to do them. In other words, it's time to play catch up! P.S. I LOVE MY FIELD WORK.

Put a character in an abandoned building or space

Annette cursed quietly as her stiff fingers dropped the match she was holding. Fumbling around in the dark, she picked it up and attempted to light it again. She knew that she risked the dictatorship finding her if she lit a fire, but she also knew that she could not survive the frozen winter night without it. It was a risk she was willing to take if it meant keeping her fingers and toes.

With a hiss, the match flared up. Annette quickly dropped it onto the pile of wood and old newspapers in front of her and began to blow softly on the flames, trying to keep the fire from going out. Soon, a small fire was crackling. Annette put her hands over the flames, sighing in relief as she felt the cold leave them. She looked up at the smoke now ascending through a hole in the ceiling of the abandoned building she had taken refuge in. A pang of worry ignited in her stomach, but she pushed it aside. The fire would only be lit for a moment. She would warm up, eat, and then move on.

Opening up her pack beside her, she took out a protein bar wrapped in foil and took a bite, wincing at the bitter taste. Protein bars were awful, but one could keep you going for hours. Chewing, she stared into her little fire, thinking of how she had come to be in this situation.

It had started with the dictatorship coming to power, overthrowing the once established democracy. At first it seemed like the dictatorship would leave the people alone and only focus on expanding the borders by invading the neighboring countries. And then the raids started. Those who had come to her country as refugees were quickly rounded up and either deported or placed into prisoner death camps. The people attempted to riot but were quickly silenced when their new leader set the military on them. The casualties were devastating. Soon the military began dropping bombs on entire cities, regardless of whether or not they supported the new government. One of those cities had once been Annette's home. Her family had been killed and she was forced to flee with the others towards the northern border in hopes of finding refuge. But they had been separated when they encountered a blizzard.

Annette looked up suddenly, her eyes wide with horror. She heard the unmistakable sound of a helicopter approaching. Cursing, she grabbed a handful of snow and threw it over the fire, which went out at once. Stuffing the protein bar in her mouth, she grabbed her bag and fled from the building. She looked around frantically, searching for a place to hide. The helicopter grew louder. She could see the search lights moving through the buildings and the streets, looking for rebels.

Turning, she saw a small shed, it's door handing by a hinge. She threw herself inside and yanked the door closed as much as she could. She was just in time. She huddled in a corner as the searchlight went over the shed. Hardly daring to breathe, Annette peaked through an opening and saw the helicopter heading south, the large red logo slashed on the side of the new regime. Sighing with relief, she waited until she could no longer hear it, then opened the shed and walked through the abandoned town towards the northern border, hoping to not only find the others, but safety and salvation.

Wordbound February 8 Prompt: The Porcelain Sisters

Prompt: Something gets broken beyond repair

In an antique stop off Beach Street lived two porcelain dolls, the sisters Christina and Adele. They sat in the window overlooking the street, watching as little girls pointed and stared, asking their mothers to purchase them. But always, the mothers shook their heads and pushed the girls along. And so for years, the sister dolls stared out the windows at little girls and mothers, in an old antique stop off Beach Street.

The night however, was a different story.

“Christina, wake up,” Adele whispered as the candles were extinguished and the shop door closed. “The old man’s gone. It’s time for some fun.”

Christina blinked and turned to her sister, a smile forming on her face.

“Will today be the day you approach the wooden soldiers?” she asked slyly. Adele blushed, as much as a porcelain doll could.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said angrily. “I meant we should go visit the bears again.”

“I don’t know if they’ll let us play with their children again,” Christina said. “Not after what happened last time.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try. Let’s go!” Before Christina could protest, Adele was already climbing down the shelves in the window to the shop floor.

“Wait for me!” Adele scrambled after her sister and followed her to the counter, where a cottage stood behind protective glass. There were two large porcelain bears, looking on as their three cubs danced and played with each other. Upon seeing the sisters however, they came forward in defense.

“Not again sisters,” the mother bear said, grabbing one of her cubs and placing him behind her. “You nearly broke our children last time with your mischievousness.”

“But they didn’t break,” Adele replied. “Anyways, that slide’s been sold. We just wanted to play with them right here. You can watch us if you want.”

“I think that might be all right,” the father bear said, looking towards the mother bear. She shook her head.

“No, I can’t risk it,” she said. “You’ll have to find some other figurines to play with and get into trouble.”

“Please mom?” one of the cubs asked, rising up on her hind legs. “I like playing with Adele and Christina.”

“My word is final,” her mother replied. Looking upset, the bears turned to their father.

“Listen to your mother children,” he said. Adele and Christina walked away amidst protests from the bear cubs.

“Told you they wouldn’t let us play with them,” Christina said.

“Shut it,” Adele answered looking cross. “Do you think anyone else will want to play, or will those bears spread rumors about us?”

“Well there is that dog that came in a few days ago,” Christina replied. “We could see what he’s up to.”

“I suppose, though I prefer cats.” The sisters giggled and made their way towards another counter. Before they had reached it however, a strange noise made them stop.

“What was that?” Christina asked, sounding frightened.

“It came from the door,” Adele said, pointing towards the shop entrance. “Do you think the old man has come back?”

“If it was him, he would have come in already,” Christina said. The noise came again, a creaking sound and the door shuddered.

“Hide!” Adele grabbed her sister and they ducked behind a broom that was hidden in a corner. With a bang, the door burst open. A man stood there, and it wasn’t anyone the sisters recognized. He was dressed in black and carried a large sack. He walked into the shop and looked around. Spotting one of the counters, he walked towards it and stooped down. The sisters saw a grin spread on his face. He reached forward and smashed the glass. They winced at the noise.

“He’s taking the bears!” Adele whispered as the man began to place the bears gingerly into his sack. “We have to stop him!”

“Adele, don’t!” Christina reached to grab her sister’s arm, pulling her back. “The humans can’t know about us!”

“I don’t care, he’s taking our friends!” Adele wrenched herself free and ran towards the counter, climbing up to the top. Christina followed her, making sure the man wasn’t looking in their direction. As she climbed to the top of the counter, she gasped as Adele leaped onto the man’s arm and climbed up.

“What the hell?” The man looked down at the porcelain doll scaling his arm, then cried out as it grabbed his nose.

“Put them back!” Adele cried, squeezing the man’s nose as hard as she could. “Put back the bears! They’re our friends!”

“Get off me!” The man reached up and yanked Adele away. The doll struggled in his grasp. The man stared at the doll for a moment, then lifted her up and threw her towards the ground.

“Adele!” Christina watched in horror as her sister plummeted to the ground. With a loud smash, she broke into a hundred pieces. Christina broke into sobs, falling to her knees. The noise caught the attention of the thief, who walked towards the other porcelain doll.

“Huh,” he said. “There was two of them. Too bad. I could have made a lot of money.” Shrugging, he grabbed the sobbing doll and hurled her towards the ground to join her sister. Looking up, he spotted the register and headed towards it.

The next morning, the old man who owned the shop walked in to see the carnage the thief had caused the night before. He walked towards the empty register and felt a crunch beneath his foot. Looking down, he saw the smashed porcelain and immediately looked towards the window where there was a gap in figurines. Sighing, he got the broom and dustpan and began to sweep the pieces up, knowing the sisters were broken beyond repair.

There is an antique store off Beach Street, where two porcelain dolls once lived. Girls pass by the shop and sigh with disappointment, telling their mothers that the dolls must have been sold. Time passes by, and still the shopkeeper has not filled the space where the sisters once stood.

Wordbound Wednesday, February 1

What is something you're embarrassed to admit you're written?

Okay, so in my defense, I've since rewritten the story, but I had no idea that it was as bad as it was until I looked at it again over ten years later.

So when I was 15, my imagination was running wild. I loved Lord of the Rings, had a knack for fanfiction, and was writing unfinished stories based on dreams that I had been having. I was also in an English class that was more advanced than the two AP classes I would be taking in the next two years. There was a lot of analysis and writing in that class. Finally, we got an assignment that I was happy to write. Creative Writing! I was so excited to come up with a great original idea and then write it down! Unfortunately there was a drawback. I had to complete diagrams, follow rules, and use these assigned $10 words throughout my story. I had to highlight them as well. I'm thinking, are you kidding me?! This was my time to shine! I want to write this my way! But whatever, I made it work and set to work writing a story about a prophecy telling of a girl who could control the four elements in order to return something called the Diamond Staff that was presented by God, helped by a dragon, a sorceress, and an elf. Being the good Catholic girl that I was and on my way to being confirmed, it was HEAVILY influenced by religion. But I did well, got my A, and moved on.

Flash forward to last September when I decided to do my personal occupation presentation on NaNoWriMo and my love of writing. I decided that, in a spur of the moment insanity, that I would take the story I had written so long ago and rewrite it. So I found my portfolio with all of my English assignments in it and took a look at the story.

Oh. Dear. God. In, Heaven.

It's bad. Super bad. The ULTIMATE bad. How did I write this and get an A?!?!?! Naturally, I got to work and the rewrite was so much better. Took out the religion aspect and did what I wanted to do. I have to say it's much better than the original. But ugh, it's so embarrassing! Here's some extra special lines.

"Her hair was pure blonde and her skin was of fresh milk. She was a sight indeed." *gag* Someone recently watched The Addams Family Values.

"But it can't be me, I'm just an orphan street rat." And you can call me Aladdin...make it stop please.

"The Lord will provide Nichalia," said Christana. "You may have forgotten, but wizards have also been known to be blessed by God, and I have been known to give a few prophecies myself." Yes, just slam that Catholic influence in there why don't you?

Oh and there's that time the "pure soul", whatever that is, transformed into an angel and killed the antagonist for them, and then showed up at the end "shining more brightly than ever". Good God, I want to throw up.

"It was the best of times, it was the best of times." I'm now dead from embarrassment and writing this from my grave.

There's no way I'm rewriting the entire transcript for here, since my fingers might dissolve into shame, but I reiterate, HOW DID I GET AN A ON THIS?!?! I still can't believe that I put this out there and thought that it was good. I'm thankful now that I'm older, wiser, and know how to at least write decently. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go hide this story from the world forever.

P.S. If anyone was wondering, I did really well on the rewrite and my presentation, and got a lot of compliments from my classmates. Plus gained an amazingly talented friend from my class who has given me more writing music. Score!

Wordbound Wednesday, January 25

What is your favorite word? Write a scene around that word.

He sat one the steps, watching impatiently as the mail truck slowly crept up the street towards his house. He had been waiting for days and finally his package was about to arrive. His toes curled in anticipation.

For weeks, Aiden had been scouring the internet for the perfect pair of sunglasses. All the pairs he had bought in the stores had been broken, stepped on, sat on, thrown out the window by his crazy ex-girlfriend...Aiden scowled at the thought. That had been his favorite pair. But he had finally found the perfect ones. They were light but durable, stylish yet affordable. Plus they came with a free gift of sunscreen. Perfect for a day at the beach, scoping out the hot girls in their bikinis.

The mail truck stopped and Aiden groaned in frustration. He rolled his eyes when he saw the postman get out of the truck, a small package in hand. He sighed, hanging his head. Aiden never received packages. He usually didn't have enough money to afford to order anything to receive in a package. His roommates received packages all the time. Well now it was his turn.

The postman returned to his truck and started to move forward again. Aiden stood up and walked down the sidewalk to meet him.

"How's it goin'?" he asked.

"Just fine," the postman answered, ruffling through the enormous stack of mail. He picked out a stack and handed it to Aiden.

"Any packages today?" Aiden asked. The postman shook his head.

"Not today, sorry." He put the truck in drive and moved on down the street. Aiden stood there frozen, the stack of mail hanging limply from his hand.

How could this be? According to Amazon, his package should have arrived today. He walked back to his front step and sat down, pulling out his phone. Anger seethed inside of him. Why wasn't his package here? It was supposed to be here, it should be here! He flicked through Amazon, looking for the page where it said that his package had been delivered. He reached it and scanned through the message. His heart sank when he saw three letters.

UPS, to be delivered the next day before 8 pm.

Sighing, Aiden put his phone away, picked up the mail, and headed back inside. It seemed that the only package he would be holding was the one he held between his legs every night.

An Introduction

This blog is dedicated to writing prompts from Wordbound Wednesdays. I'm going to take the prompt and turn it into something. The novel series based on an idea that's been in my head for years is going to draw to a close next November and I need some more ideas if I'm going to keep doing NaNoWriMo and keep doing what I love to do.

Big big thanks to Kristina Horner for the great idea!!!

Live every day like it's NaNo.