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.