Writing Prompt

The story begins with a haunted mansion. it starts were a family that is famous hears

screaming at night. They just think it’s their 5 year old having a nightmare. BUT the next night they hear it again. “ probably just our 5 year old having another nightmare” says the dadThey go check if it’s another nightmare. Nope, their 5 year old is fine.“Maybe this mansion is haunted” the mother says. “It’s a...

They boy stared out the window at the torrential rain that seemed to fall for weeks at a time. He wondered if it would stop before he died, or if the rain knew he dying at all. Then he wished he could be rain….And that rain could become him...

Elias Kingsley was a name synonymous with success. A venture capitalist with a golden touch, he had turned dozens of small startups into global powerhouses. His name graced magazine covers, and his words commanded standing ovations at tech conferences. He was the man everyone wanted to know, the icon of modern ambition.

But success, as intoxicating as it is, often masks the cracks forming beneath...

one day the kid was going to be a killer one day he wish has come true he killed his brother and his sister he sent to prison about two weeks later then

he was killed by a black bear and he won he is strong and he was the muder the contestants said who killed the siblings **in his family he is a muder**...

Dreams are a silly thing. They can be an escape from reality or a wonderful fantasy. Either way my dreams keep me alive. Keep me away from the heartbreak and the pain.

Every night I hook up to the Machine. The _Dream Machine_, they call it. It keeps us sane. Allows us to stay in line and follow rules without question. We get rewarded in good dreams for a day of hard work. But nightmares come as p...

I shuffle my feet, sitting on a small chair to what seems like an even smaller table. The room is loud with kids giggling and chattering while they color. I would usually be giggling with them—I work here as a volunteer—but today is not one of those days.

He stares at me his desk, watching my actions. Every blink, every tremble. To think those disgusting eyes watched me scream; to think they watc...

It was bright, and happy, but it was the wrong time and place for this. The entire neighborhood had passed, or left to Nevada. Up on a hill, near the green grass, lay a woman. She was old and was the only one who wanted to stay. Her days were almost over, and she hadn’t seen her family in almost 3 years.

(Might finish this later but I’m kinda busy)...

“Until death,” sang a tiny voice from underneath the bench. “until death strikes us all.” The day was bright and pretty. Moments before, the clouds respectfully excused themselves and revealed the sun.

“Joshua, get from under there!” The boy’s mother scolded.

“And quit talkin’ all that nonsense.” His father added.

Joshua crawled from underneath the bench and dusted his pants. His mother walked ...

Sitting atop of a hurried slope covered in pleasantries and merriments stays a home for graceful radiance. There it was always sunny and there it was bursting with many bright colors. Early mornings and hard work was rewarded with cerulean blue petunias and peachy walls embraced with positivity that would never quit.

One could find themselves feeling a loud sense of longing, or maybe envy for a...

I watched pop sitting on the bench just off the beach, watching the surf. It was the middle of summer and a perfect day for beach going: hundreds of vacationers sunning and cavorting, building sand castles, searching for shells; on the boardwalk, I knew he was listening to the clack-clack-clack of sandals passing by.

I was at the fruit stand, getting a bowl for each of us. Pop would maybe take a...