Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
STORY STARTER
Inspired by Maranda Quinn
Write a story in which your protagonist is forced to do something unpleasant for their own good.
Writings
Fledge looked down at the ground for a long moment, trying to decide what to do. Buzzy impatiently tapped her claw on the ground and said, “Well, what is it? What aren’t you telling me?”
Fledge hesitantly revealed the broken compass. Buzzy audibly gasped, realizing the weight of the situation. It would be much harder to get home now and they may never find their way back to their gentle Bell Buckle home.
Fledge try apologizing, but Buzzy Interrupted. “We need to get home before this gets worse. Just follow me. I remember the way we came in.“ They took off into the gathering darkness, not realizing they were moving further from home with every beat of their wings.
(unfinished)
“Hurry up!” Kaili yelled at Violet, who was supposed to be the camera person for the movie they were trying to make. Everything was in place — the salt lamp was on the stand and Chloe and Avalene were waiting to begin their scene. Violet, however, had left and gone to the other room, mumbling something about needing her slippers.
Kaili stomped into the doorway, shouting: “Violet, no one cares if your feet are cold, we need you to film!” When she got to the room, Violet was nowhere to be found, and instead there was a guitar sitting randomly in the middle of the floor with a note: Sorry we kidnapped your friend, but here’s your compensation.
“Hey guys…” Kaili called to the others. “I think we may have a bit of a problem…”
(Time skip to when they found a suspicious container outside the room)
“I don’t think this lock pick is gonna work,” Avalene told Kaili, who was attempting to open a weird-looking box outside the window of her bedroom.
“Hey! I think this might help!” Chloe exclaimed, emerging from under a bush with a small shiny object. “It looks like the key to that box.” Kaili grabbed it and unlocked the grey cube. Immediately a bright purple light shot out of it and gradually formed a circle around the three girls. They looked around wildly as their surroundings began to fade.
Violet watched as her friends suddenly appeared across from her. They appeared dazed. Violet kept sitting at the table, drinking her boba tea.
When they had mentally processed their surroundings, Chloe asked: “What are you doing here… how did you get here??” Violet shrugged.
“I don’t know, some people kidnapped me and said I would get free bubble tea for life if I completed a quest for them. Seemed fishy, but I like bubble tea, so I agreed. I’m waiting for them to come back,” she said. Everyone seemed at a loss for words.
Suddenly, a group of rather scary-looking people appeared, just like Kaili, Avalene, and Chloe had. One of them, upon seeing the three uninvited guests, pointed a screwdriver at them threateningly.
“This screwdriver is secretly a gun,” they warned.
“Sounds fake but ok…” Kaili said warily. None of them moved.
“Now,” another of the scary-people said, “How did you girls get here? Did you find our machine?”
“I think so. Was it a grey box thing?” Avalene asked. The one who had just spoken nodded.
“We’re gonna have to get you out of here. We will proceed with that shortly, but for now, you may enjoy a drink with your friend here,” they said.
“Now hold on, what did you trick Violet into doing?” Chloe demanded.
“We need a human for the handprint identification.” After further questions from the four friends, they continued. “For the bank we are going to rob. The humans own the banks, and our species was reduced to nothing just because they had the better weapons. Of course, some of our smartest minds learned from their technology…” The other one twirled the screwdriver-gun.
[read Rewinding Time: Burning At The Stake (PT1)]
As the tension in the square reached its peak, Sage Bishop, bound and facing the unjust trial, suddenly screamed out a single word, "KALISTAR!" Her voice echoed through the square, sending a shiver down our spines. It was a word imbued with power, her defiant last stand. The crowd gasped, and a hush fell over the scene as the significance of her cry lingered in the charged air.
As the tension in the square reached its peak, Sage Bishop, bound and facing the unjust trial, suddenly screamed out a single word, "KALISTAR!" Her voice echoed through the air, shattering the oppressive silence. For a heartbeat, time itself seemed to halt, and every person in the square stood frozen in awe and fear.
Instantly, Tobias and I knew—that was the code. Our mission had led us to this precise moment. Sage's defiant cry wasn't just a plea; it was the key we'd traveled back in time to find. "Kalistar," I whispered, the word sending a shiver down my spine.
Before I could process what to do next, a shout rang out from behind us. "There! Those children! They're not from around here!" A burly townsman pointed directly at us, his face twisted with suspicion and anger.
My heart hammered against my ribs as we turned to run, the crowd parting like a disturbed hive of bees. Tobias grabbed my hand, and we sprinted through the chaos, dodging outstretched arms and furious faces.
"Stop them! They're allies of the witch!" Reverend Carlton's voice boomed, and the mob surged after us with newfound fury.
We darted down a narrow alley, but our pursuers were relentless. Tobias took a sharp turn, leading us through a labyrinth of twisting lanes and shadowed backstreets. But it was no use; the townsfolk knew the area far better than we did.
As we skidded around another corner, our path was suddenly blocked by a group of stern-faced men. They grabbed us roughly, dragging us back to the square. "Let us go!" Tobias yelled, struggling against their iron grip.
When we were thrust back into the square, the crowd erupted in jeers and accusations, their eyes burning with hatred. Reverend Carlton stepped forward, his expression one of grim satisfaction. "It seems we have discovered more agents of darkness," he declared, turning to the crowd. "These children are in league with the witch!"
I looked up at Sage, her green eyes filled with both sorrow and unwavering resolve as she met my gaze. "Remember," she mouthed, the word "Kalistar" silently forming on her lips.
My heart sank as the reality of our situation closed in around us. We had the code, but now we were caught in the same trap meant for Sage. The stakes had never been higher, and our mission never more perilous. The fate of both our worlds depended on our next move—if we could find a way to make it.
As the crowd closed in around us, the shouts and jeers growing louder, my mind raced to find a way out. The wooden platform, the scaffold, the ropes and barrels nearby—it all blurred together in a frantic search for an escape route.
My eyes locked onto a stack of crates near the edge of the square, partially obscured by a large canvas. "Tobias," I whispered urgently, "we need to get to those crates. Follow my lead."
Mustering all my courage, I elbowed one of our captors in the ribs with surprising force. He staggered back, giving Tobias and me just enough room to break free. We sprinted towards the crates, weaving through the frenzied throng. But the townsfolk were hot on our heels, their accusations ringing in our ears.
"We're almost there!" I called out to Tobias, reaching for the canvas. I pulled it down on top of us, using it as cover as we squeezed through the small gap between the crates and a nearby building.
Just as we thought we were in the clear, a sharp cry pierced the air behind us. I turned to see Tobias clutching his side, a dagger protruding from between his ribs. My breath caught in my throat, a cold dread washing over me.
"Tobias!" I screamed, rushing to his side. His face was pale, eyes wide with a mixture of pain and fear.
"Go," he managed to gasp, blood seeping through his fingers. "You have to make it."
"No, not without you!" I cried, tears blurring my vision. But the angry shouts of the villagers grew closer, and I knew we had no time.
Tobias's hand trembled as he reached into his backpack, pulling out the ancient device. "Take it," he insisted, pressing it into my hands. "Get the code back. Save our future."
His strength was waning, but his resolve was as unbreakable as ever. With a heavy heart, I nodded, knowing it was what he wanted—what we needed to do.
"I'll come back for you," I promised, my voice cracking.
Tobias gave me a weak smile. "I know you will. Now go!"
Clutching the device and the precious code it held, I scrambled out from under the canvas and raced through the labyrinthine alleys. The grief and fear pushed away by sheer determination. Each step carried me further from the chaos but closer to the desperate hope that our mission would succeed.
I turned back one last time, my heart breaking as I saw Tobias's figure growing smaller, surrounded by the furious mob. "Stay strong, Toby," I whispered, steeling myself for what lay ahead. I had to survive, for him, for Sage, for our world. And so, I ran, the weight of the future pressing heavily on my shoulders, but the spark of hope burning brightly within me.
As I fled through the chaotic maze of the village, the sound of angry voices and heavy footsteps echoed behind me. My heart pounded in my chest, not just from the exertion but from the emotional turmoil tearing me apart. The weight of the ancient device in my hands made every step feel all the more urgent.
I stumbled into a dark, narrow alleyway, the walls closing in around me. With no clear path forward, panic began to rise. That's when I saw it: a small, weathered wooden door slightly ajar, leading into what looked like an abandoned house.
Without a second thought, I slipped inside, pulling the door shut behind me as quietly as possible. My breath came in ragged gasps, the darkness around me only amplifying my sense of dread.
The room was dimly lit by a solitary candle on a rickety table, casting flickering shadows on the rough wooden walls. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed a figure slumped against the far wall—an elderly woman, her eyes filled with a resigned sorrow. Her wrists were bound, a clear victim of the witch hunts.
"Who are you?" she asked weakly, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"I'm... I'm no one," I stammered, the weight of my situation crashing down on me. "I just need to hide."
As I moved closer, the woman's frail frame and tired eyes told a story of hardship and despair. I couldn't just leave her here, a helpless victim of the same injustice that had put Sage on trial. But helping her would attract attention, jeopardizing my mission, and put both of us at risk.
"I can untie you," I whispered, swallowing my fear. "But you have to promise to stay quiet."
The woman nodded slowly, tears of gratitude welling up in her eyes. As I worked at the knots, a muffled cry from outside reached my ears. The mob was close, and they were searching every house. Time was slipping away, and I had to make a choice.
A sudden cold realization hit me. The only way to truly avoid attracting attention was to make it look like I’d never been here—that she was alone. My stomach churned at the thought, an overwhelming sense of revulsion washing over me. But there was no other option.
"I'm sorry," I said, my voice trembling as I tied a piece of cloth around her mouth, muffling her ability to speak. “I’ll come back for you, I promise."
Her eyes widened in panic, but there was understanding there too, a sad acceptance of her reality. I moved a crate in front of her, hoping it would be enough to shield her from immediate discovery, but my actions felt like a betrayal of my conscience.
With a heavy heart, I crept back towards the door, every fiber of my being screaming at me to do more, to be better. But the mission came first—and that truth tore at me more viciously than the villagers’ daggers ever could.
As I slipped out into the open air again, the guilt gnawed at me, lingering like a shadow. Yet Tobias’s last words echoed in my mind, urging me forward. I had to succeed, even if it meant leaving behind parts of myself in the process.
The path ahead was uncertain and perilous, but there was no turning back. I carried the hope of two worlds with me, and the promise of redemption for those I left behind.
Rewire Dopamine cabled addiction Habits burned into my flesh Paths of leavings and fire
Temptations of the world Essence of night highs Lens of false perspective Avenging lost time
Eyes of magnetism Cures their raining attack For a moment, I feel no slack But only for a moment
Sins of the lying tongue Father gift me my pardon Strengthen my mind Armor of mine harden
Drips of pushung through Heart flees from the cave Thoughts to reel me back Persevere through the waves
Chain after chain Link after link Take me back to pureness Heal me who is weak
Rewired From heart caged addiction My brain is in control of the reigns To my father, I listen
It feels like she’s trying to read my mind With the way she’s staring through my eyes She asks questions with a reptilian smile Everything thing I say gets jotted down She reads meaning between every line She’s convinced I’ve been traumatized She’s coming up with another diagnosis I can’t believe I’m paying for this
“Go on. If you want to leave with your friend you will have to give our dear princess a kiss.” His highness gestures to a white haired girl sitting on an ornate throne. Her jewels glittered like starlight against her pale skin. He’s laughing at me. He knows I don’t like anything and he’s doing it again. This time I don’t really have a choice. Ser might have caused all of my problems as of late but she doesn’t deserve to be trapped here. “Fine. I will.” My nerves are on fire. Last ditch effort. “Only if the princess is ok with me, a mere human, kissing her.” I looked towards the princess. She’s smiling. Nope I have no luck today. “I am fine with it. Some might think you’re average but I think you’re interesting.” She’s smirking. I can’t believe she’s smirking. I’m in trouble. “Come kiss me.” His highness is also smirking. God I hate them both. I walk up to the princess. “May I see your hand?” She obliges and extends her hand to me. I take it and gently place a kiss on her fingers. “Ha. That doesn’t count.” He sings it. Ugh. “Then what is the minimum that I have to do?” “Oh I know. Kiss me on the cheek.” The princess places a fingertip on her cheek. His highness nods. I take a breath and lean over to kiss her cheek. Right as I place my kiss she moves and it lands on her lips. Why is it so wet? I finally pull off of her after a few seconds. I try hard not to gag. Come on don’t offend them hold it together. I take a step back. I square up with his highness and state “May I leave now with my friend the human Ser?” He scoffs. “You really feel nothing?” “Actually what I feel is gross but nothing beyond that.” “Fine you may go. You’ll find your friend on your way out.” “Thank you for your generosity.” I bow and head out. Ser must be so confused.
“What if we all just block him at the same time?” Esha suddenly broke the silence, leading to every gaze falling onto her.
“Yeah!” Randy shouted with unbridled passion, “Give him a taste of his own medicine and pretend his sorry ass never existed!”
Of course Val kept her mouth shut as this was discussed. Her mind drew to a blank as she stared at the river with a faraway look. She realized she shouldn’t excuse herself before she realized she could try.
Already, Randy and Esha were opening his profile on their phones. The former scowled at his picture, while the latter grimaced. Val simply didn’t want to look.
“Ready?”
“Ready.”
“Val, what about you?”
She reluctantly made eye contact and smiled sheepishly. “Oh, um…”
All she could think of was the irreversible permanence of removing someone from her life. Didn’t any of those memories mean anything? She wished she knew if he would even care. And she considered how awkward it would be around their mutual friends after this. She didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, she did. Did that make her a bad person?
“You know what he did to you.” Esha began gently. “I promise you that someday, this pain won’t matter as much as it does today, but any hopes of that ‘someday’ coming can only be if you let him go… I mean, what more do you want from him?”
Val considered the question before answering. “I guess for him to know how much damage he’s done, and for him to applogize.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening.” Randy scoffed sympathetically.
“I know.” Val chuckled emptily.
Esha had a bitter comment to make about his ego preventing him from even uttering a “sorry,” but she bit it back. She knew that wasn’t needed right now. She said something else instead.
“If you’ve been waiting for a sign to put your foot down, this is that sign. Don’t wait for him to hurt you again. Do this for you.”
As awful as it made Val’s heart feel, she knew her friends were right. They cared about her, so she should too. “…Okay. Okay, let’s do it.” She declared.
“Woo!” Randy cheered, enthusiastically hopping off the picnic bench. “Phones out, everyone! Block him in three…
two…
one!”
All three of them blocked him.
“Happy new year!” Esha joked lightheartedly.
“It’s August.” Val furrowed her brows in playful confusion.
“Happy new year!” Randy laughed anyways, doing a little dance.
Val couldn’t help but giggle at her friends. She looked down at her phone, his blocked profile, hesitating before turning it off. She took a deep breath. Then, a satisfied smile came to her lips.
She would later come to tell this story to her other friends, but she never told them his name. It wasn’t worth mentioning.
He always hated going to the Doctors. If he could avoid Doctors forever he would but he knew that wasn’t a possibility now. He was in desperate need of money and had already done everything he could… last thing waiting for him now was getting his blood drawn. He hated needles, hate seeing blood, hated the sensation, hated how he always cried, hated the wait, hated everything. Yet the amount of money that was given to him for the blood was more than enough for his rent. So in he went to the place he hated most, the doctors office.
Inside, the wait to get his blood drawn was driving him crazy, he almost left; though as soon as he got up to leave, his name was called. <Great> He thought as he followed the nurse to the back. He sat in a chair, he hated how it was always cold, how it made him feel small. He kept quiet and did what he was told. He hated seeing the nurse pull out the materials, hated how even the alcohol wipe felt on his skin. He hated the pressure his arm was being put in, just to get a vain out. He looked away, he didn’t want to see his blood leaving his body, he hated that too. Then… it happened, he felt the whole process and his blood leaving his body. He hated everything. The needle felt like it was getting bigger but now he was used to it. That how he knew the nurse was done taking his blood. Everytime he felt even a little bit comfortable, something rips. This time literally as the nurse accidentally ripped the needle harshly out of him. The nurse apologized and he forgave her quickly but everything he hated somehow was now ten times worse.
He left the nurses office with money in his pockets and one hand hold the arm that was used to take his blood. If there’s one thing made clear on this day. Every visit to the doctors office made him hate the medical industry more.
“Greeting gentlemen and gentle ladies and to all the sugar and spices and puppy-dogs’ tails in the tricounty area. This is Winchester “Straight Shooter” Bunz and before we begin this evening’s regularly scheduled family favorite program of Fibber McGee and Molly, we here at WTRH want to make a special announcement concerning Wendell Southby, our fair station’s owner and general manager. There have been headlines folks, outlandish headlines, about Southby. I hate to delay programming to air our dirty laundry. Really I don’t want well that’s neither here nor there. At WTRH we are family and I’m sure you know somedays you just have to stand up for family no matter what.
“Folks from the rolling hills of Hill Road to the emerald meadows of Green Glen, you have seen owner and station manager Wendell Southby, cutting ribbons and kissing babies. He is the emcee of the Buttermilk Falls Junior High Prom each and every year. Why? Because Wendell loves love. Wendell has a lovely wife Hazel. You housefraus remember butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth Hazel. She is the former host of Baking Cakes with Hazy Drake. We go way back Haz and I. She was my girl Friday. Anyways Wendell loves his wife and he can deny her nothing. Now back at the 1946 Middle West Broadcasters Convention in Cleveland, Hazy saw and fell for one of those new fangled television everyone is talking about. It is just natural folks that he bought her a TV set.
“Unfortuntely Mrs. Southby also wanted to watch television shows on her new television. Being the lovey dovey husband he was he hired the Gunther Brothers to build a telelvision antenna. He started right people his heart was in the right place. Wendell couldn’t get a signal on his rooftoop. So he had the brothers build a second antenna on the Smooth King Hotel on Main St. Being an engineer and a lover Wendell ran a cable to his home for his lady love. Mind you I didn’t say Wendell was an attorney specializing in licensing or an agent of the FCC or even the brightest bulb in the chandelier. I said he was a lover.
“Wendell loves everyone. That’s where he had a little wobble. He threw open his doors to the neighborhood for folks to watch television and eat slices of Mrs. Southby’s pimento cream cake, world—uh—famous cake, ladies and gents. And when his living room overfloweth. Wendell ran cables to the hotel lobby, to the barber shop, to the beauty salon, to Nicky Fist’s Bar and Pool Hall and to a few personal friends. Many few personal friends. What are we going to cructify a man over having a lot of friends.
“Was money exchanged? I say outrageous. You know Wendell is a giver. Outside of normal maintenance and incidentals, no profit was made. Our salaries certainly didn’t show any windfall. Now gentle ladies and gentlemn your friend and mine Wendell has mounting legal debt but he needs support in his time of need. Time and again, Wendell has sponsored Little League teams and church picnics. Grab those checkbooks, men, Ladies, empty those coin purses. Wendell isn’t a lawbreaker not really he’s a love maker.
Hear that music forks the antics of McGeee and Molly are fast upon us. This is Straight Shooter Bunz signing off. Remember at WTRH we are family. You listeners are family. And thick or thin family sometimes has to look the other way.”
Similar writing prompts
STORY STARTER
Capture a conversation between two characters who have a secret history.
Let their dialogue reveal their past relationship without explicitly stating it. Pay attention to body language and unspoken tension.