hello, fellow traveler! you seemed to have wandered across my swc page… here I'll post my dailies and weeklies, so stay tuned!

dailies

• ✯ July 1 ◦ myself as an ice-cream sundae + 1k word challenge ◦ 1,129 / 10,000 ◦ n/a ◦ ✯
  

• ✯ July 2 ◦ word gobble ◦ 1,561 / 10,000 ◦ 250 ✯

• ✯ July 3 ◦ truth or dare ◦ 1,614 / 10,000 ◦ n/a ✯

• ✯ July 4 ◦ bizarro fanfiction ◦ 2,218 / 10,000 ◦ 500 ✯

• ✯ July 5 ◦ pillow smoothie™ ◦ 2,471 / 10,000 ◦ 250 ✯

• ✯ July 6 + 7 ◦ Summer | a song ◦ 3,154 / 10,000 ◦ 500 ✯

• ✯ July 8 ◦ cabin wars! ✯

• ✯ July 9 ◦ eccentric sleep ◦ 5,899 / 10,000 ◦ 400 ✯

• ✯ July 10 ◦ no daily ✯

• ✯ July 11 ◦ SWC parody ◦ 6,513 / 10,000 ◦ 150 ✯

• ✯ July 12 ◦ cabin intro ◦ 6,821 / 10,000 ◦ 200 ✯

• ✯ July 13 ◦ the language of flowers ◦ 7,262 / 10,000 ◦ 400 ✯

• ✯ July 14 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 15 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 16 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 17 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 18 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 19 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 20 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 21 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 22 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 23 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 24 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 25 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 26 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 27 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 28 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 29 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 30 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

• ✯ July 31 ◦ name ◦ word count ◦ points ✯

weeklies

• ✯ week 1 ◦ 4,961/10,000 ◦ 2,500 ✯
  

extras

• ✯ critiquitaire ✯

• ✯ word wars ✯
  

• ✯ writing competition ✯
  

• ✯ misc. ✯
  

myself as an ice-cream sundae + 1k word challenge

1,129 words
+0 points for Hi-Fi?

Outside the dining room window, the sky is pink with the morning light. There is not a cloud to be seen; whether wispy or fluffy. I’m currently writing over a breakfast though I know I will not be finished with this piece of writing until the afternoon. I will be out, supporting my brother (@water-leaf) at his baseball game. As written, I am up early, although I must admit I am a morning person. The room around me is lit by this natural light, and I am typing on my laptop. To my left is my phone and a glass of water. On my right is nearly finished oatmeal. It is a mix of Quakers Instant Oats; one packet of apple cinnamon and one packet on maple brown sugar. The sky is gorgeous now, but I know if I step foot into that realm it will feel like a jungle due to the sticky heat. The time is slowly counting down before I have to leave, but I must and will continue writing.

Time for the actual prompt of the day: I would say that I am pretty basic, so perhaps I would be vanilla. Oh! but once I had some apple cinnamon ice-cream when I stopped at an apple orchard on a road trip. It was absolutely delicious, and I love the season of autumn, so let me add that to my sundae. so maybe that too. It luckily is a flavour that would go with vanilla. I would also like something floral (if that exists) like rose, lilac, or lavender ice-cream. On reflecting on this idea, that might be an absolutely disgusting combination, but I love flowers. It would represent the spring side of me. On the top of my ice-cream, I shall add some cookie crumbs. Mmm… what a delicious addition. Okay, I do not know what else to add, so at this point I am just rambling. However, I am working to try the one thousand word challenge (see what I did there? I am not abbreviating to 1k)

Alright, here is a portion where I will introduce myself: Hello there! My name is Violet, a new fourteen-year-old (I turned fourteen on June 2) and I am a she/her. I am going into the ninth grade as a homeschooler, and I have been homeschooled since the second quarter of seventh grade. Unfortunately, I still have some school to complete this summer (specifically biology) and I am also working ahead on Latin for next year. I would like to start art as well, but I am going on a two week road trip soon, so I am unsure if I will be able to begin. I will not give to many specific details on the vacation (I do not want to reveal where I live) but my family is planning to stay in New Mexico for a bit and also visit the Grand Canyon. Continuing on with some more updates this summer! On July 10 I am getting my expander. I have wanted orthodontics since I was around ten, yet now as it is getting closer, I am getting a bit nervous. Unfortunately, getting it so late in the summer means I will be getting my braces at the beginning of this upcoming school year. Oh, well. Since I am homeschooled, I will be able to take it easy. I just realised that I completely forgot to share my timezone. I am in the Eastern Standard Time.

Okay, now perhaps I should talk about my goals and dreams for the future and why I joined SWC. In the fourth grade I was introduced to poetry. For the span of a week, I wanted to be a poet, but at the end I switched it to being an author. That idea just rested in my mind for a long long time. Fast forward to 2022 (or should I type it out for extra words: two-thousand-twenty-two, (am I supposed to be using hyphens?)) I formed a writing group with my best friend (BFF) and brother. We wrote short stories and met every Friday, but that was all. Then as I was scrolling through Scratch in February of this year, I found signups for the Scratch Writing Camp session of March 2023. I talked with my mom, and talked, until we finally agreed that I should sign up. I was sorted into the wonderful Folklore Spell Shop where I was led by the amazing Alia. We did not win, nor did I even make an honourable mention in the writing competition, but it was still a fabulous experience (are you bored of my adjectives yet?). I of course wanted to join again for July and stalked the cabin all the way until signups came out in June. I was there when the project was released, and I was sorted into the Historical Fiction Revolution (or Hi-Fi for short) Alia is my leader (again) and I am so excited to be conducting sabotages and other revolutionary things.

Okay, how have I gone this long without talking about my obsession, my comfort, and my legit LIFE-LINE… the 2005 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice. But where to begin (do you see it? the Enola Holmes reference??) In September of 2021, I caught COVID. I was stuck home for two weeks, lying in bed, reading, watching YouTube, and chatting with my brother over FaceTime. The evening I finally left my chambers, my brother and stepdad were out, so my mom and I watched the 1994 adaptation of Little Women. Once the movie was finished, we still had some more time, so she showed me the trailer of P&P. I DESPISED romance at the time, but I thought I would give it a try. She would pause throughout the movie to explain what was going on, and since then, I have been hooked. I have watched it over twenty-five times from when I started tracking last August, and have read the actual novel six times. This movie introduced me into other Jane Austen novels, and like I said, I have an obsession. This movie has everything. A stunning story, a gorgeous soundtrack, lovable characters, et cetera. I was even able to form some Scratch friends from it *cough cough* Poppy *cough cough* I also highly enjoy the Enola Holmes films (not the books though) and yeah! That basically completes the introduction of my life as well as the 1k challenge! I am very proud of myself for doing this, though I am unsure how I am supposed to do this next year, but oh well. I shall cross that bridge when I get there. If you have read this far, I greatly appreciate it, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

word gobble

432 words
+250 points for Hi-Fi

words supplied by @stxrryniiqht-
writer, countryside, secure, race, harmony

introduction: I honestly had no idea where these words would take me. I had many ideas (all of which failed) and I was not enjoying that I was going on a philosophical route. HOWEVER, I realised I could turn this into a speech, and have the reader guess that this would be part of some academia themed novel. It definitely is interesting, to say the least, and I am not sure how others will read it, but I hope you enjoy. (83 words)

“Summer. A word that conveys a unique feeling to each individual person known to exist. Some people enjoy the beach, yet they have their own specific reason. Perhaps the roar and crash of waves that seem to have caught the sky and twisted it into churning foam appeals to their ears; or a reason entirely different, collecting shells. A smooth intricately shaped home of a past creature, maybe living or elsewhere. A memory for one to wonder about the life that the creature lived. Summer.
For a writer, summer is a time to express creativity in what could be the next bestseller romcom. Endless possibilities as vast as the stars in the countryside night sky, except there is one problem. Time. A writer has seventy-two days of summer break to work and write, to secure that hold on a season that one may wish to last forever. It is a race against time.
Said writer turns on some music, whether classical, lo-fi, or even the background sound of crickets in harmony on a warm night. There is not much time. Nothing can be wasted. Therefore, they sit at their computer, staring at a blank page and waiting for the words to come. The idea of it is so real that they can imagine their fingers flying as black letters type themself onto the page. And yet, a minute passes, thirty, forty, until a whole night has come by and nothing. It is a season where all have so many plans and so little time. Summer.”
When she finished, the whole audience erupted in applause. Hands clapped as people cheered, standing on there feet. This would be the speech of the century, a way of describing writer’s block, a feeling of destruction when things were not going the right way. Sadie Sonne stepped off the stage and people rushed forward to shake hands and talk to her. She smiled through it all as she walked down the aisle and could not believe that what she said had such a profound impact. It was a feeling of great triumph. (349 words)

truth or dare

53 words

@-SimplyWatermelon-
truth: what's the most disgusting thing you've ever eaten?
my answer: okay, so my dad tried making pad thai, which I don't mind eating, but he put PEANUT BUTTER for the sauce (and not a good kind either) it was literally just noodles, peanut butter, and vegetables. to shorten this story, we had ice-cream for dinner.

@PoppyWriter
truth: which is better- P&P (for those who don't know, Pride and Prejudice) the book or P&P 2005?
my answer: NOOOOO!!! POPPY HOW DARE YOU TORTURE ME > I do actually have an answer for this one though, because… the movie gave me high expectations for the book, and I admittedly was let down, so the movie

@Emerey
dare: I dare you to write a poem about eggs.
my eggcellent poem:
Eggs.
They’re shorter than my legs,
Yet taller
When thrown up,
Up into the sky
Through the puffy clouds
Past the sun.
“First Egg in Space”
Headlines read
The next day.
I put the paper down
And look up
When SPLAT!
An egg fell on my face.
What an egg-filled day! (53 words)

bizarro fanfiction

604 words
+500 points for Hi-Fi

bi-fi twist: You can fall in shallow water, like puddles and stuff but you can stand on deep water, like lakes and oceans (@lowerbeets) + In the climactic part of the story, a character suddenly collapses for some reason that is not immediately apparent (@Starthorn)

introduction: I had a bit of a rough patch when creating this daily, because I started and then scrapped due to confusion, Now, I think it is much better that I went with an entirely different idea. I decided to use Howl’s Moving Castle (the book) for my inspiration, and I’ll be recreating the scene when Michael and Sophie catch a star, but with Sophie and Howl’s daughter and her friend (73 words).

The night was dark with stars twinkling like little jewels in the sky. The sound of chittering crickets could be heard among the heather along with the soft rumble of a colossal structure, her home, climbing slowly after them. Fireflies scattered at her footsteps and her dress swooshed at her legs.
“Hurry up!” she shouted, quickly glancing over her shoulder at a lanky boy with glasses falling off his face.
“I’m trying!” he pushed the glasses back over the bridge of his nose, “but you’re too fast!”
The girl laughed, a laugh like tinkling bells, and continued running.
She glanced back, and this time at the moving castle. The bricks were shifting, trying to climb over the hill. The house was not that big from the distance, but she knew once she finished this task it would be right behind them.
She looked at the sky again and saw it, and she stopped abruptly. One of those diamonds was falling down towards Earth.
The boy ran into her back.
“Ouch!” he shouted. “Why’d you stop, Lou.”
“Look” she pointed. He followed her finger to the falling star.
“Just like in the rhyme,” he muttered.
She grabbed his wrist, “C’mon!”
They chased after the star through the heather, barely visible against the dark, just small outlines of the otherwise vibrant pink flower.
They ran and ran until they reached the starlight puddle. It looked like a pool of golden water, and at the bottom was the star, glowing furiously.
“It looks about two inches deep,” she said, taking off her Mary Janes.
“Right,” he bit his lip, “You’re bound to get wet for sure. There’s no way around it.”
She took her socks off next, and then slid in and went completely under.
A moment later she resurfaced, her hair drenched and plastered to her head. The boy pulled her up with her one open hand. The other clenched one held the star.
“Got it!” she sighed happily, and she held it high above her head.
As predicted the castle was there, and howl opened the door and hopped out.
“Well done, my love,” he said, “and you too John.”
Sophie came out shortly after saying, “Here’s a towel dear,” and she handed it to Lou.
About an hour later, when Lou was freshly dressed, the four were standing around a black cauldron with a golden liquid inside.
“Ahhhh…” sighed Howl, inhaling deeply, “the smell of starlight.”
“Well, I think it’s almost finished,” said Lou, stirring the liquid gently.
John peered over her shoulder, “Are you sure? I think I still see a dark speck.”
“Oh, John,” Lou teased, “I’m sure it’s fine.”
She pulled out a glass vial and was about to pour some of the liquid in it when she heard a thud. She spun around quickly to see Howl splayed out on the floor behind her.
“What just happened?” she asked curiously.
“I have no idea,” said her mother, bending down to check his forehead and pulse.
“That’s really interesting,” John said, “I’m usually the one to faint.”
Howl woke up a second later and scratched his head.
“What just happened?” he asked, and they all laughed. (531 words)

pillow smoothie™

253 words
+250 points for Hi-Fi

introduction: Quick! I look to my left and… a pillow? Welp! I guess I have to write about a pillow smoothie. (23 words)

You crouch down to eye level, staring at what lies in the blender: Your finished project. It is a gorgeous blue-grey colour with little black specks, probably the chia seeds that you had put in. It looks interesting, you think.

Recently, you stumbled across a website called SWC where they posted blogs. The most recent one was for a Pillow Smoothie™ and it helped with relaxation. As an anxious person, this recipe seemed to be calling for you.

You had followed the recipe, taking one of your favourite blue and white striped pillows from the couch. It had cost a good deal of money, being from Expensive Pillows and all (not a real website). You blended it up along with half-a-cup of milk and a tablespoon of chia seeds. The reviews were high, but now as you look at this intriguing concoction, you are now unsure if it will taste good.

You pour the smoothie into a mason jar and take a sip.

It hits; that feeling of instant relaxation.

“Mmmmm…” you sigh. Perhaps you will try the curtain smoothie next.

You thought that it would help you stay calm, and you planned to have a productive day. Unfortunately, it made you too calm. When you sat down on the couch with your laptop to do some work, you fell asleep instantly. So much for a productive day! (230 words)

word wars

war with @glorious_purpose
prompt from Alia: deep in the enchanted forest, an elf stepped out of a mushroom
winner: me!

Deep in the enchanted forest, an elf stepped out of a mushroom. He stepped delicately on the grass, a wonderful little cushion on the forest floor. He was going to hunt. His bow was slinged on his back with arrows. The arrows were handmade, and their feathers were of an assortment of colours. They ranged from red to green, to a vibrant violet. They were his prized possessions and a talk among the forest town. A couple minutes had passed as he was walking around. He wanted to catch a deer, for it would feed him for a full month. Then he saw it. The gorgeous creature it’s head bowed, eating some of that crunchy verdant grass. The white specks on its back were gorgeous like brush strokes. The elf pulled out his bow, situated his right hand on the front part and used his left hand to pull back. He let go, and the arrow hit the deer in the side. It shuddered and its specks seemed to dance. Then it fell. The elf went over and checked its pulse on its neck and heart. There was nothing. Its breath stopped. The elf pulled out the arrow and put it back in its container. Then he pulled out some netting from around his waist and put the deer in it. He pulled the deer all the way back to his house. He set a fire, the orange element flames dancing… (241 words)

war with @Starthorn
prompt from @xc-egg: The walls speak suspicious words.
winner: my opponent </3

The walls speak suspicious words. I try to block them out, but it does not work. I try to cover my ears, but there is a part of me, a part of my heart, a part of my soul that wants to hear.
“We are the walls” they say.
“We shelter you, we guide you, we protect you from the outside world.” They say the most interesting things sometimes. It makes me curious. And yet I still listen. I listen to their obnoxious advice.
“Come, live inside us.” They say. Do they want me to live with the mice? I doubt so. It would be so weird and creepy. Speaking of mice, those grey little fuzz balls are so cute. Not the rats though. They are the ones that bring the walls to a ruin. The walls call to me again. I try to close my eyes, like that would ever block the sound. I just can’t tune it out. My room is bare. Is that why I can hear them? Because there is nothing to absorb the sound? No carpets or chairs, no rugs or bears. I don’t know why I put that. I just wanted to rhyme.
Again, the walls speak. This time a prophecy, “Help us! Help the wall kingdom!” That is bizarre. Oh well. I go off, leaving my house with a backpack, granola bar, bottle of water, map, phone, sweater, wallet, and keys. I step out into the neighbourhood with no idea of where to begin. How do you help a wall kingdom? I talk to the first person I see. Asking them this strange question. They don’t know how to help, and they look at me with disgust. Very well then. I do not like them either. I try again. This time asking a squirrel. He just chitters at me with a nut in his hand. He cracks the nut and eats it. I walk away. I see an acorn. I wish I could help this wall kingdom. (333 words)

Summer | a song

305 words
+500 points for Hi-Fi

Summer

I said I was tired I said I was aching
I said I was sick of life And all that it was taking
I miss the spring and the gentle breeze
I miss the winter and it’s kindness to me

And in this little life of mine
I thought I’d already be alive
But I’m struggling to beat
This insane summer heat
Driving my mind to a craze

So keep me close and hold me tight
Give me a chance to shut my eyes
And think for a moment
What life would be like
In a summer dream

Outside is unbearable like a jungle of lies
People telling me I’m fine when inside I’m dying
And why am I so afraid
Of things that haven’t happened yet

In this little life of mine
I thought I’d already be alive
But I’m struggling to beat
This insane summer heat
Driving my mind
To a craze

So keep me close and hold me tight
Give me a chance to shut my eyes
And think for a moment what life would be like
In a summer dream

This is my farewell
To summer
This is my farewell
To the time I despise

This is my farewell
To summer
This is my farewell
To the time I despise

In this little life of mine
I thought I’d already be alive
But I’m struggling to beat
This insane summer heat
Driving my mind
To a craze

So keep me close and hold me tight
Give me a chance to shut my eyes
And think for a moment what life would be like
In a summer dream

So keep me close and hold me tight
Give me a chance to shut my eyes
And think for a moment what life would be like
In a summer dream
In a summer dream…

weekly 1

1,628 words
+2,500 points to Hi-Fi

part 1:
“The Umbrella” is an intriguing comic that captures the beauty of the rain. It follows a little girl with her red umbrella, and her journey to appreciate those gloomy days. For this study, I chose page two which depicts the girl enjoying the rain before the clouds depart. In the first page she has her yellow raincoat on, and the red umbrella is open. The artist decided to cast a yellow glow around her for a reason that the reader can interpret. Despite this happy portion, the people around her appear downcast. There is a man who has to use a book to keep his head dry, and in the background there seems to be an adult with a child. The child is pointing at this cheerful girl. Panel two is a swirl of colours; an artistic way of showing clouds. There is a bright spot where the sun is hidden behind these massive molecules. In panel three, the clouds are pulled apart to reveal the golden sun. It was always there and shining, but the clouds had tried to obstruct its colour. In panel four, people are taking their umbrellas down. There is a woman with blonde hair, a green raincoat, and a matching green umbrella. She is happy now that it is done raining, and the man from the first panel is pleased too. The man is bald and wearing a blue coat and red scarf or tie. The main character looks quite shocked at this sudden change in weather. She pulls down her umbrella in the second panel and looks quite sad. Her whole figure appears in a darker colour from her brown hair to read boots. One thing I would like to mention (because I have no clue which part to put it in) is the art style. It is some form of water colour, and I wonder if the artist chose this because the wetness can relate to the rain. This is just something I thought of and wanted to include. Overall, this comic page is gorgeous in its literal interpretation, but I am curious what I will find when digging deeper. (359 words)

part 2:
“Three, two, one, happy New Year!” the TV blares as the ball drops at Time Square. The crowds go crazy with hugs and kisses; filled with cheer for the new year. My dad picked up the remote and clicked the off button. The TV screen faded black.

“Now who’s ready to eat?” he asked.

“I am!” my little brother jumped up and down and then off the couch.

I walked into the dining room where there were four bowls of soup laid out on the table. One for me, one for my brother, one for my dad, and one for my mom.

It was a family tradition to have lentil soup at the new year. Whoever ate the most lentils would make the most money and have good fortune for the year. I understood, now, that it was just a myth, though my brother took it a bit too seriously.

“I’m going to eat the most this year,” he said confidently, pulling out his chair and sitting down.

“Oh, sure you will,” I teased, “You claimed you at the most last year, and you made what, five dollars?”

“Ana,” my father said gently, “play nice.”

I rolled my eyes. He would never understand being an eldest sibling as he grew up an only child.

“I’m older now,” my brother said, “Older people make more money.”

I giggled into my soup and drank a spoonful. Delicious, I thought.

“This is great, Mom!” I said. “You improve with each year.”

“Thank you! You know how hard I work in the kitchen.”

“250 lentils!” my brother shouted as he finished slurping his soup and slammed down his bowl. “I am going to make $250 this year. I am determined.”

“Good job, honey,” my mom said, “but please don’t slam my dishes on the table. Remember, your grandmother used them when she was a little girl.”

When I finished my soup, I had counted 249 lentils. Was my brother really more fortunate than I was?

That night, or it was actually very early morning, I lay awake thinking of my brother. He would be the one to have the fortune, or so he claimed. I did not believe this silly superstition anyways. It was just like a fairy tale. Then why did I feel like such a loser? I rolled over and shut my eyes, hoping for sleep to befall me. I dreamed of my brother, laughing in my face as he held up millions of dollars in front of his mansion. Then there was me, so pitiful in a small apartment.

“It’s just a dream,” I told myself. “It’s just a dream. (441words)

part 3:
motif: the turquoise ring
meaning: selflessness

excerpt: “I also observe that (Amy) does not fret much nor look in the glass,” (said her father), “and has not even mentioned a very pretty ring which she wears; so I conclude she has learned to
think of other people more and of herself less…”

continuation:
“Oh, thank you, Father!” said Amy, jumping up and throwing her arms around her Father’s neck.

“There, there now,” he said. He patted her back gently and chuckled a bit.

Mrs. March smiled and turned back to her needlework. She was knitting a pair of socks to donate to the army. Now that her husband was home, she was determined to work hard than ever to support the war efforts.

That night as Amy sat in bed, she turned the turquoise ring over in her hands.

“I must continue to be what Father said,” she whispered to herself. “I will be a selfless young lady.”

“Would you like me to brush your hair, Amy?” Meg asked softly at the top of the stairs.

“No, I’ll be fine.” This would be the first step, thought Amy, not worrying so much about my hair.

The next morning, Amy awoke and looked in the glass to take out her rag curls. When she tried to brush through her golden locks, it hurt because her hair was full of tangled knots.

“Ahhh… the struggles with hair,” laughed Jo teasingly as she watched Amy trying to brush her hair.

“It’s not funny Jo!” snapped Amy, slamming the brush down and turning to glare at Jo, but then out of the corner of her eye she saw the ring and remembered her father’s words from the night before. She began to take deep breaths to calm down.

“I'm sorry,” Amy mumbled, trying again. “I was trying to let my hair be natural, but it didn’t seem to work.”

“Do you need help brushing it?” Jo asked.

Amy was about to say she could do it herself, when she remembered again.

“Yes,” she admitted.

Jo climbed out of bed and grabbed the hairbrush. She gently brushed Amy’s hair. Ten minutes later, the hair was all better.

“Thank you, Jo,” Amy said.

“You're welcome. Now hurry up and get dressed. I smell biscuits downstairs.”

Breakfast was delicious, though to others, it did not seem Amy ate even a bite.

“Amy, dear, what is wrong? You haven’t touched your food?” said her mother.

“I was thinking,” Amy began, “that we should give the Hummels some of this. I’m sure they would much appreciate it.”

“I would like to do that too,” acknowledged gentle Beth.

“Very well,” their mother said. “Let me grab the basket, and then we can pack it up.” The family packed the basket filled with biscuits, jams, and lemonade. It was a new beginning for Amy March and one that impacted her life forever. (428 words)

part 4:
The rain fell in a downpour, and yet a little girl ran happily through it. She splashed in puddles, not even caring that her red rain boots were covered in mud. The umbrella provided a shelter for her. Therefore, as the world around her was depressed from the rain, she was enjoying every little drop that fell on her yellow raincoat.

A man was walking by, covering his bald head with a book. It was a book he had been reading, though it was now ruined and useless. He was downcast, perhaps from the rain, and he was oblivious of the girl he almost bumped into.

“Look, Mama,” a boy said, pointing and holding his mother’s hand, “there’s a little girl running in the puddles. I want to do that too!”

“Hush child,” the mother pulled him away. “It is rude to point.”

In all of this rain, it was hard for the girl to see anyone, let alone hear their conversations. She continued to skip happily.

A rumble of thunder, and then the grey, ominous clouds pulled apart. There was the shining sun! It was always there but hidden from those who did not want to see it.

The girl looked up confused. It had just been raining a moment ago. How could the sun be out already? All around her people were pulling down their umbrellas. A woman with a green raincoat and matching umbrella was pleased that the rain was done. She disliked how it made her blonde hair all frizzy. The bald man was happy that he did not have to cover his head with a book anymore, and still many others were glad that they could dry off.

The girl felt different, however. She no longer needed the shelter of the red umbrella. The yellow glow of happiness faded from around her. The joy left her face, and she stared at the ground. She closed her umbrella and wished for the rain to return.

The sun beat down upon her, making her feel warm in the coat, but she refused to take it off. The rain was not going to leave her, right? She had finally learned how to enjoy it, but now its magic was gone.

What was the point of romanticising something that would not remain? What was the point of enjoying something that only lasted a moment? If only she could know. (400 words)

eccentric sleep

290 words
+400 points for Hi-Fi

introduction: My writing for this day is an absolute mess. I did rush it a bit, but I have to go do a frog dissection so… homeschool for the win! Anywho, I only had to write two hundred words because I slept for ten hours, which is nice, and yeah. I literally cannot think today, so please ignore this mess. (59 words)

character 1) Owen: Owen Mo is a character who does not get a large amount of sleep, and then he wakes up early to make breakfast for those he cares about. He usually stays up late watching action movies or even doing the dishes if asked. He typically goes to bed at eleven p.m. and wakes up at seven. Though eight hours of sleep sounds pretty decent, his head is filled with nightmares of bad things happening to loved ones. Maybe that is why he makes breakfast for his friends. In one scene of my novella, my character, Aylee, believes that Owen is secretly awake and making breakfast. Unfortunately, this is not the case, but it describes Owen’s sleep habits. Anyways, I think that is all the information I will get on this character. Overall, he is a pretty chill guy. (139 words)

character 2) Tanya: Tanya Rose is your average teenager. She goes to sleep late and wakes up late. Vacation is a time where she is able to relax, and she thoroughly enjoys eating Owen’s breakfast (though it is already cold by the time she takes the first bite). Her hair is usually a fuzzy mess in the morning, and she takes a while to get ready. Also, she is the only one among her friends who drinks coffee, and she drinks quite a lot for only being seventeen. Owen may have better sleep I guess. (92 words)

SWC parody

381 words
+150 points for Hi-Fi

introduction: So I’ve been obsessed with Adele, and with all the rain where I live, this song is perfect for summer. Therefore, I thought to make a parody of it. When I was listening back though with my version, I realised how dark the lyrics were… Anyways, please enjoy my new song, Set Fire to the Enemy. (57 words)

I got a message, on Scratch
And as it glowed, I opened it
It was from my leader, and I was excited
Until I saw it was a cabin war

My hands, were shaking
As I replied immediately
To say, “I’m coming
and I will fight right by your side”

But there's a challenge
That I never knew, never knew
Two thousand words
In four hours, hours
And only two online
We would lose the points, lose the points

But I set fire to the enemy
Watched them burn as I ate a mango
Well, they burned while I sat
'Cause I heard you were in last place
last place

When I wrote all alone
I could feel the pressure, of writer’s block
“Go away!” I cried out
As it sat, gnawing at my brain

But there's a challenge
That I never knew, never knew
Two thousand words
In four hours, hours
And only two online
We would lose the points, lose the points

But I set fire to the enemy
Watched them burn as I ate a mango
Well, they burned while I sat
'Cause I heard you were in last place last place

But I set fire to the enemy
Watched them burn as I ate a mango
Well, they burned while I sat
'Cause I heard you were in last place, last place

Sometimes, I wake up in the night
Thinkin’ I should be writing all the time
But then I remember
Always sleep over SWC

But I set fire to the enemy
Watched them burn as I ate a mango
Well, they burned while I sat
'Cause I heard you were in last place, last place

But I set fire to the enemy
Watched them burn as I ate a mango
Well, they burned while I sat
'Cause I heard you were in last place, last place

Oh
Oh, no
Eat a mango
Oh
Eat a mango
Eat a mango (324 words)

cabin intro

308 words
+200 points for Hi-Fi

introduction: So I did a similar intro to this last session for a classics cabin. Of course now I know it is called Lit-Fi, and I am going to do a more personalised theme (I was originally planning for Pride and Prejudice themed, but thought Jane Austen was a bit more diverse. This could also be for a romance cabin, since that is the main theme of all her novels, but I don’t really care. Also, I had to cut so much out when I was editing. This word limit had me stumped, and I had so much to say. Now, without further ado, my Jane Austen Society themed cabin! (110 words)

You walk into the building. It’s charming and quaint, filled with books, yet you can’t tell if it’s a library or a bookstore. You see a girl in an armchair with a book and tissues.
“They can’t be together,” she whispers as tears fall down her cheek.
“Ahem,” you say. The girl looks up, and quickly wipes her eyes.
“I didn’t see you there,” she says.
“Are you alright?” you ask.
“Yes, I’m fine. This book just makes me a little emotional.”
“Ahh,” You glance at the book. Pride and Prejudice, the title reads. Next to it is a stack of more books; different editions of P&P.
“Why do you have seven copies of Pride and Prejudice?”
The girl sighed, “It’s my favourite. I love all the pretty editions. Anywho, I’m Violet, and…”
But before she could say more, there was shouting.
“Emma is the best!”
“No, Sense and Sensibility!”
“But Emma and Knightley are so cute!”
“Emma is spoiled.”
“Blah blah blah… Marianne cries too much.”
You stare confused and ask, “What is going on in there?
“Oh, just a debate. Anyways, I guess that’s one way to introduce you. Welcome to the Jane Austen Society.” (198 words)

Rosebird - a short story

To all who need a little Christmas spirit:
There is magic in this world. You just have to know where to find it.


Snow was falling in light flurries, a drizzle, in terms of rain. The estate stood there, taking in the early morning like sun that was peeking out above the tree line and acted as a witness to the first snowfall of the season.
The estate was small, yet fairly grand, and it served as home to the Hail family who ruled the little kingdom of Euphorbia.
A woman stood by a window and looked out at the falling snow. The window pane was so cold that it chilled the air around her.
She recalled a certain memory from about a month ago. It was of her daughter, Aurora, who had asked politely in her sweetest voice, “Mother, if I happen to be asleep for the first snowfall, could you wake me up?”
The woman chuckled quietly to herself now. Her daughter had been so insistent on seeing the first snowfall. She had reminded her parents every morning and every evening since the first of November, and it was December now.
It was just like Aurora to do something like that too. Always wanting to run about outside to observe every wondrous spectacle, so that she was intimate with the natural world.
Turning away from the window, the woman walked over to her sleeping husband, whose chest moved slowly up and down as he breathed in and out. She gently shook him for a few seconds, and then he awoke. His dark eyes looked up in puzzlement at his wife, and he was about to say something, but she put her left index finger to her lips and pointed out of the bedroom window. He nodded, seeming to understand, and then climbed out of bed.
The couple quietly tiptoed down the hall, with an occasional groan from the old wooden floorboards, to a room just beyond theirs and cautiously opened the door, hoping that it would not creak. However, their wishes were not answered, and a creak reverberated throughout the upstairs of the house. The man and woman winced afraid that the sound awoke the sleeping figure inside the room, but, when they did not hear a stir, they entered.
The room was soft and elegant with white floral wallpaper and bookshelves in every corner.
The shelves weren’t packed tight, but they were filled with books that, when opened, revealed colourful illustrations that would engross any child’s imagination. This was very important for a curious girl who wanted to learn about the world.
A little chair was at the end of one shelf, situated by a window for natural light when reading these books. A bed was against the left wall, and the young girl, Aurora, was found sleeping there.
The woman walked over to the child and crouched down to whisper in her ear, “Aurora, wake up.”
Aurora stirred and opened her sleepy eyes so that she gazed up at her mother. They were a subtle brown colour that complimented nicely with her light brown hair, which was pulled back in a single braid that had started to become undone in her sleep.
“Is it time?” she whispered softly, even softer than her mother had spoken.
The woman nodded her head, and a tiny smile came upon Aurora’s face.
The child sat up, and reached out for her mother’s hand so that she could step down from the bed. The mother took the small hand and the family walked into the hall and descended the marvellous staircase. The mahogany wood railing matched the floorboards, and every other stair, when stepped on, made a sound that hinted at the age of the estate.
They continued towards the front door and went outside into the falling snow, where they stood.
***
A family wandered across a snow covered field. Their footprints were left behind in sets of three, not much of a dent upon the inches of snow. The tallest of the group had a picnic basket hanging on the inside elbow of her right arm. Two children were skipping ahead.
The group found a suitable place for a winter picnic and laid out a Christmas blanket coloured with dark greens and reds, and set out plates.
Some of the plates were stacked with all kinds of sandwiches ranging from peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to cucumber sandwiches while others contained petit fours, and still, more plates contained an assortment of fruits and vegetables.
The family each took a spot on the blanket and looked out at the world.
“Oh, what a beautiful Christmas day,” said one of the children. It was a girl bundled up in a light blue coat. She wore a white hat upon her head and wavy golden hair that fell in locks rested on her shoulders.
“I must agree,” said the other child, who was also bundled up for the cold day. He was quite clearly the twin brother of the girl for he had the same golden hair and dark brown eyes.
The final person in the group was the mother of the pair, and she was watching over them as they were settling into the picnic. She smiled softly to herself as she looked out at the world that was blanketed with snow.
Years ago, when she was a girl herself, snow hadn’t fallen until Christmas morning. She had begged her parents to wake her up for the first snowfall. They had woken her, and she still considered that morning as her favourite Christmas memory.
“Yes, it is,” the woman finally spoke. Her voice was soothing. A sound so comforting that it could make the birds stop singing for a moment to listen to the angelic voice. “Once the snow hadn’t fallen until this special day. Yet here it is, and it hasn’t melted in some time.”
The boy only nodded because he could not say anything since he had picked up a cucumber sandwich and popped it into his mouth.
His cheeks were so stuffed that the girl began to giggle,“Goodness, Frost! You mustn't shove food into your mouth. You should eat it like this.” And she took a white frosted petit four with pink frosted flowers and nibbled on it as an example.
“At least your brother didn’t speak with his mouth full, Snow,” her mother reminded. It wasn’t a scolding remark, yet there was a bit of firmness in her voice. “He did practise good manners by nodding instead of trying to talk.”
Snow’s face burned, as if she had a fever, with embarrassment at her mother’s remark, and she continued to eat her petit four while Frost swallowed the rest of his sandwich, after which he announced quite loudly, “I can’t wait to see the presents!”
“Of course you can’t,” said Snow. “It’s your favourite part of Christmas. You tell us every year.”
Frost’s mouth turned into a frown, “Yeah, well it’s your favourite part too!”
Snow blushed, “No, my favourite part is being able to see family like Grandma and Grandpa Hail.”
“Yeah right,” Frost murmured.
“I heard that!” said Snow, and they all laughed aloud and ate until they could not eat anymore.
***
A warm fire crackled and popped in the library fireplace. The flames jumped and leaped like ballerina’s off of the oak logs. An armchair was situated nearby tucked into a corner of bookshelves that filled the space around.
In the chair sat Aurora. Her hair, now grey, was pulled back in a messy bun, and she wore a cosy sweater and a long, dark skirt.
“I’m going to the kitchen, Mother, to get some cake,” said Snow. She was older now, quite grown-up. “And you be good to your grandmother, Holly.”
“She’ll be fine, Snow, you’re only going to the kitchen,” replied Aurora.
“Of course I’ll be good. In fact, I will be wonderful because Grandma is going to tell me a story!” Holly declared. Her face was beaming, and her cheeks were nice and rosy, a sign of her youth and innocence.
“Oh! I will now?” Aurora teased, a playful grin coming upon her wrinkled face.
“Yes, as soon as Momma leaves.”
“Are you kicking me out, Holly?” Snow asked, but she was finding Holly’s remarks hilarious.
“Yes,” said Holly, “Now shoo, shoo!”
Snow left the library, shaking her head, though there was a smile on her face. Even though Holly was only five, she had a strange little humour that made her very lovable.
Holly bounded across the room and climbed into her grandmother’s lap.
“Now, what kind of story would you like me to tell?” asked Aurora.
“A Christmas story.” responded Holly.
“A Christmas story?”
“Yes, because it’s Christmas day, silly!” laughed Holly, “You should know most of all. You were the one who baked the black forest cake and woke me up this morning and handed out the presents from under the tree.” Holly pointed to the pine tree in front of the library window.
It was a lush evergreen tree picked out from Euphorbia’s forest. It had dark coloured pines that were decorated with silver tinsel, and there were golden balls of light speckled here and there.
“Okay, okay,” said Aurora, and she began the story, “Once when I was a girl, something magical happened on Christmas day…”
***
The sun was mostly up now and it cast a soft yellow glow upon the snow.
“It’s beautiful,” Aurora breathed. Her breath was visible in the frosty air and her nose was bright red, yet no one was cold despite the fact that they were still in their pyjamas. They were all taken in by the snowy scene.
The mother reached for her husband's hand, which was firm and warm, and there the family of three stood. It was a picturesque scene. The daughter’s small in her mother’s hand and her mother’s hand holding her father’s hand, all watching the first snow fall.
And then the magic happened. It wasn’t much at first, but soon hundreds of pink and red rose petals began flying through the air.
Aurora’s heart was racing, throbbing even. It was not of anxiety, like would occur before an examination, and not beating out of fear of what would come next. It was a throb of love for the snowy world and these new, mysterious creatures. They looked so much like little birds, that they really were little birds.
Rose birds.

the language of flowers

441 words
+400 points for Hi-Fi

flowers chosen: nightshade (dark thoughts + sorcery), fern (concealed love), snowdrop (hope)

introduction: Let me just sum this up real quick; POV: you write about a sorceress and wizard falling in love. I don’t know why I struggled to reach the limit, but I hope you enjoy this sweet little love story. (40 words)

The sound of bubbles fizzing and popping could be heard from the potion in the cauldron. It was a gorgeous shade of dark purple and grey, though to think that someone would drink such a thing was terrifying. As it cooked, the sorceress grabbed some nightshade and tossed it in with a grunt.
There was a knock on the dungeon door.
“Come in!” she said in a gruff voice.
A man entered. He was handsome with brown hair combed to one side, and he was wearing a dark-coloured wizard’s robe.
“Jon!” she said surprised as she knocked over some empty potion vials.
“I- I made you something,” he stuttered, pulling a glass frame from his robe. Between the two pieces of glass was a pressed fern. Its meaning quickly flashed through the woman’s head, and she instantly blushed.

Concealed love.

He handed it to her, and when she reached out to grab it their fingers touched. Each pulled away immediately and blushed profusely.
“Well, I should be going,” he said, turning towards the door.
“Right, but wait!” she cried out.
“Yes?” he turned, hope rising in his chest, like the buds of snowdrops in winter.
Her heart beat faster and faster as she thought out the next words. “I’m going on a stroll tomorrow to forage for mushrooms, would you like to join me?”
“I’d like that very much.”

The next day the pair walked together among the forest, both extremely uncomfortable and both very much in love.
“Ah! A mushroom!” Jon said, pointing to one and ready to grab it.
“Don’t touch!” she warned. “Poisonous.”
“Oh…”
“I- I can teach you how to identify them. It really isn’t that trick once you get the hang of it,” she said with a small smile.
The day spent in the woods was one filled with magic and whimsy. As the sun set, their silhouettes were mere shadows against the horizon. If they could get a glimpse into the future, if they could see where they ended up, together, perhaps things would have gone differently. But no magic could do that. No amount of knowledge or skill or intelligence. Years later Jon would wonder why he had not told her sooner. Why he took so long to be happy.
Still, it was that day that the first sign of love made a difference on the sorceress, turning her blackened heart into a rose… (401 words)

weekly 2

??? words
+??? points to Hi-Fi

part 1:

topic by @glorious_purpose (how to plot the end of a book)

DISCLAIMER: Please ignore the introduction, middle, and end. I had absolutely no idea how to write this (this is my first time, can you tell?), and I have no clue how to teach people something through text (which is ironic because I want to be a teacher). This last line is not really part of the disclaimer, but if you use this workshop, I would love to see the product.

The end. The final page, the final line that all authors dream of, but they can never write its preceding pages. In school, any student struggles with the conclusion that wraps up a powerful argument. It feels like torture to the mind, like writer’s block. So what is one to do in this situation? They need to answer any remaining questions, make sure the ending has things that the reader wants, and that the theme is carried through till the end.

1. answer questions / solving remaining problems
Tying up loose ends is the assumed topic that many writers have trouble with. It would be useless just to give this tip by itself, so some instruction will be included (my humour is not the best as you can see). First off, what does it mean to “tie off loose ends” as the writing world says? It means (why am I so repetitive) that all remaining problems that were not solved are resolved by the end. This could be both in a positive or negative way for the protagonist as it is the author's choice (more on this later). When finding these pesky strands, it is important to read over the writing piece not once, not twice, but again and again and again. This circles back to proofreading and editing, which are not my area of expertise, so I will stop there. To find these ends, look for all sorts of conflict from an internal character’s to external in society. Think about the character themself and how they would solve the problem. Basically, any issue needs to be resolved except in two cases. One is if there is going to be a sequel, then problems that will carry on into that second book do not need to be resolved, and two is if the ending is left to be interpreted by the reader. The latter choice is extremely difficult to be done correctly, but The Giver by Lowis Lowry reveals a perfect choice. While this author knows how to pull of this ending, it is best to avoid it (this is just my opinion, but I guarantee there are more books with an “awful interpreted ending” than there are good). Once all the problems are solved, it is time to add some extra things to the end.

2. what does the reader want?
Please, please, please, please, please do NOT understand this the wrong way. People should not be constantly influenced by others. With that being said, despite the controversy that will arise with this topic, there is an explanation. When writing the ending of a book, is there something you think the reader will enjoy? If there is no dislike of an ending others might enjoy, perhaps include it in the book. HOWEVER, try and avoid cliches if possible. Keep ideas original, but also keep the reader in mind.

3. finish out the theme
Lastly, think of the theme in the story and make sure it is finished out thoroughly and neatly. Even if theme has been a hard concept to understand, it is still somewhere in the story. Figure out what it is, and make sure that it is a big piece in the finale.

That is all for this workshop. If there are any questions, let me know and I will be happy to answer them! (624 words)

part two:
prompt: character development (from @lizard-breath)

introduction: I definitely took a unique approach to this topic, but I am currently in the car as I write this, and I was inspired to. Basically, this piece describes anxiety by comparing it to natural disasters. I did something slightly similar not to long ago for school, and I wanted to bring awareness to something that affects a lot of people. I also recently overcame a big spike in my anxiety levels, so that was also what was behind this. I hope you enjoy it though! It was a big test on my description along with building a character. Oh, and why I did this in second person? It just sounded better. (113 words)
The world shook, just slightly at first, but enough to awaken the body. Mentally, it began to pack up, preparing for the inevitable. The quivering gave way to a constant rumble, and then the sky split, revealing clouds as dark as the night. Torrents of rain fell like bullets in a warzone. Anyone who stepped a foot outside would feel the sting of bees. Electricity filled the air, so no one would dare to leave their home.
And then the world began to beat, faster and faster and faster. One last bolt of lightning struck and split the earth in two. Buildings fell, people screamed, car trunks slammed as people tried to pack up and leave. The rain slammed down causing a flood, squeezing every last bit of air out of your lungs.
There was a knock on the door. Your mind snapped back to the present. A wave of emotions washed over you as you began to wonder who could be on the other side.
“Hey, are you alright?” you heard a gentle voice say through the door.
You could barely whimper, “No.”
The door opened to reveal your mom who saw you shaking on the floor, tears streaming down your face.
“Oh, honey,” she rushed over and sat down next to you. She picked up your head and put it on her lap. She stroked your hair affectionately and bent down to kiss the top of your head.
“I’m afraid,” you whisper.
“And you have every right to be so.”
That was all you needed to hear. The soothing voice of a loved one who told you to feel all your feels. You sobbed more until your voice was hoarse. Your head hurt from the pain of your feelings, and you shut your eyes.
An hour later you were asleep. Your mom was still there stroking your hair. It was a weightless sleep where your mind wandered far away into the endless expanse of the universe. Dreams of dancing among the stars flickered in front of your eyes along with the desire to float away across the seas. Life was complicated for you. Every task was a whole new problem. You tried to sort it out, but once one thing was solved, five more things would arise.
But life would get better. The earth was stitched back together and was sealed with a giant band aid. The rains lightened up and soon departed along with the clouds. The sun shone and dried up any remnants of pain left on the earth. The people returned, learning from the past and the old. New ways to cope with disasters were discovered. You were taught how to root yourself in core principles and to remember the things that would always remain.
It was a constant battle, but you would win. You would defeat this, this mindset that trapped into the inner depths of fear. The earthquakes would fade away, the tears would stop flowing, and the earth would be whole once again. The cause of this mess though could only have one name: Anxiety. (513 words)

google translate

424 words
+450 points for Hi-Fi

bad lyrics: I will finally find someone like you, I hope it ends well (from ‘Someone Like You’ by Adele)

Summer and Winter were inseparable from the start, despite their opposition. When people grew tired of the heat, they called upon Winter to bring the snows. When the snow became unbearable, Summer was there to melt it away. All was pleasant as a fairy in charge of the seasons.
They were twins, and lived together, just themselves, for a long time.
All was well until one day Autumn and Spring were born. There rooms were squished right between Summer and Winter.
No more nights when Summer would tiptoe into Winter’s room. No more days of excitement over the change in season. No more being there for each other. Because now Summer was paired with Spring and Autumn with Winter. It was a weird situation. Any time Summer and Winter crossed paths, there seemed to be death glares between the two. Autumn and Spring were cordial and often discussed the relationship between the other two. Even with all this internal conflict, nothing major happened.
One day sleet fell. It was a battle between the two seasons. The weather had no clue what to do with itself because as Winter was trying to make it snow, Summer was out trying to make it rain. They were only a couple yards apart, and when they looked over their shoulders, they saw each other. Their eyes filled with hatred, and they stormed towards each other.
“You!” Winter said, her voice was hoarse.
“Well if it isn’t Winnie Winter?” Summer mocked.
“That’s enough! You know I hate that name.”
“What, Winnie? Hah! Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to continue this rain.”
“We don’t even know which season it’s supposed to be!”
“So??”
“We’re hurting the people!” cried Winter exasperated.
“Really? But people love me and enjoy romanticizing the summer!”
“Stop! I don’t care if you’re better loved. What happened to us? We used to be best friends!”
“Oh, yeah. That was so long ago when we were just babies,” Summer sneered.
“But what happened to us?”
“Autumn and Spring!”
“You can’t blame them. They’re the real babies.”
Summer scoffed, “Yeah right.”
“Listen,” Winter tried to explain, “I loved the relationship we had. I wish to be friends again!”
“Mhm, and then what? Abandon the other two?”
“No! We’ll make something work!”
“Never!”
“I cared about you, Summer, and I don’t know what happened. Maybe someday I’ll find someone like you, and if it has to end then, I’m going to hope it ends well!”
Summer winced, “Well, I- I- it’s over, Winter!”
“Good!” and they parted ways. (424 words)

SWC musical

349 words
+400 points for Hi-Fi

prompt: SWC musical!
Historical Fiction the Revolution: The Musical
theme song: Revolution!

introduction: Welcome to my wonderful masterpiece that slightly rips of Hamilton! I literally don’t have a tune to this song, and I haven’t had much experience writing scripts, but I hope you enjoy. Also, let me know if you figured out how I got the names of the characters. (49 words)

Fade in…
ENT, dark storm clouds in sky as Victoria walks down gloomy cobblestone streets
Background Singers (wearing outfits that blend into the road and singing in a half, menacing-whisper)
Sweeping, scuttling in the streets,
Fighting, dying, people watching,
Sneaky glances as she walks
Whispers, whispers, whispers, whispers
Hush…
Everything goes quiet
Victoria knocks on wooden door; Sail opens it
Victoria
Hello!
Sail
Hello!
Victoria
Hello!
Sail
Hello!
Victoria (begins singing in a rap style, but not too fast)
I’m trying to find a spot to go,
you know?
Victoria shrugs her shoulders, slightly cocking her head to the right side
Sail (sings in same style)
Any particulars, may I ask?
Victoria
The HFR, dare I say?
Sail
Ah, yes, right this way.
Sail turns around and walks into the building; Victoria follows
Frank shouts out when he jumps up onto a table
Welcome to the HFR!
Amy jumps up and echoes
HFR!
Frank
Where we learn to fight!
Amy
Learn to fight!
Frank
Wanna join?
Amy
Wanna join?
Victoria says confidently
Where do I sign?
Frank instantly holds out a paper with a pen
All sing/rap and do a dance on the cobblestone street (this includes the background singers)
R-E-V-O-L-U-T-I-O-N
Half say:
What does that spell?
Other half answer in a shout:
REVOLUTION!
All
R-E-V-O-L-U-T-I-O-N
Half ask:
What does that spell?
Other half answer in a shout:
REVOLUTION!
Sail
Yeah, we’ll fight
Amy
For what is right
Frank
And we don’t sleep
Victoria
When it’s night
All whisper alternating between who says fight
Fight
Fight
Fight
Fight
Sail
Yeah, we’ll fight
Amy
For what is right
Frank
And we don’t sleep
Victoria
When it’s night
All whisper again and alternate between who says fights
Fight
Fight
Fight
Fight
All shout and pump right-hand fists into air
REVOLUTION!
Fade out… (300 words)

The earthquakes would fade away, the tears would stop flowing, and the earth would be whole once again. The cause of this mess though could only have one name: Anxiety.

You tried to sort it out, but once one thing was solved, five more things would arise.

It was a weightless sleep where your mind wandered far away into the endless expanse of the universe. Dreams of dancing among the stars flickered in front of your eyes along with the desire to float away across the seas.

The people returned, learning from the past and the old. New ways to cope with disasters were discovered. You were taught how to root yourself in core principles and to remember the things that would always remain.

The world shook, just slightly at first, but enough to awaken the body. Mentally, it began to pack up, preparing for the inevitable.

And then the world began to beat

The door opened to reveal your mom who saw you shaking on the floor

this mindset that trapped into the inner depths of fear.