Once upon a time, in the small town of Serenityville, there lived a woman named Majorie. Majorie was in a tumultuous relationship with a narcissistic boyfriend named Ethan. Their relationship had been filled with ups and downs, but Majorie had finally reached a breaking point. She knew she needed to address the issues that were causing so much pain and turmoil.

One evening, as they sat together on the porch, Majorie gathered her courage and began to express her concerns. She spoke about how Ethan’s constant need for attention and validation had caused strain in their relationship. She talked about how his self-centered behavior had left her feeling neglected and unimportant.

But instead of listening and reflecting on Majorie’s words, Ethan immediately became defensive. He dismissed her concerns, blaming her for any issues that had arisen. He claimed that she was too sensitive, that she was overreacting to his harmless actions.

Majorie tried to explain further, hoping that Ethan would understand the impact of his behavior. She shared examples of times when his self-centeredness had hurt her deeply. She pleaded with him to consider her feelings and work together to build a healthier relationship.

But Ethan’s narcissism clouded his ability to empathize. He twisted Majorie’s words, turning them into accusations against her. He deflected responsibility for his actions, placing the blame solely on her shoulders.

As time went on, Majorie’s attempts to communicate her needs and concerns were consistently met with Ethan’s defensive and manipulative responses. The more she tried to express herself, the more he gaslighted her, making her doubt her own perception of reality.

The lesson of the story was clear to the readers. Majorie needed to recognize that she was in a toxic relationship with a narcissistic partner who refused to take responsibility for his actions. She needed to understand that no matter how much she tried to communicate and express her needs, Ethan would never change.

Tragically, Majorie failed to learn this lesson. She believed that if she just tried harder, if she loved Ethan more, he would eventually see the error of his ways. She held onto the hope that he would one day acknowledge his behavior and work towards positive change.

But the more Majorie tried to fix their relationship, the more she lost herself in the process. Her self-esteem crumbled under the weight of Ethan’s manipulation, and she became trapped in a cycle of emotional abuse.

In the end, Majorie’s failure to recognize the toxicity of her relationship and her inability to see the lesson of the story led to her continued suffering. The tragedy lay in her unwavering devotion to a partner who would never change, leaving her trapped in a never-ending cycle of pain and heartache.

This is the story of a creature, who once lived in the deepest — darkest — depths of the Grulien Sea. It was here, that the sun never shown, and the sea was a WILD being!— untamed and mangled within itself. Here! In the Grulien Sea, lived a creature so far beyond the imagination, it’s full glory and demonic possessions cannot be captured in a single story not image.

This creature ruled the far seas for decades. Crashing boats and killing all on board. FLAMES and sparks rose from these wrecks to burn the only shred of evidence — a single scale from the creature’s tail.

However — one man did live to tell the grueling tale.

He said it all happened like a flash of lightning! One STRIKE!— and down the ship went. He said men were scrambling across the deck, hopelessly reaching out for the rafts. The man said that one crew member did manage to reach this raft, but as he did… the wooden raft went up in flames — taking his crew mate with it.

He said the sound of horrified screams and the crackle of burning flesh still haunts his nightmares.

That day, the sky turned to night, and the eye of the ocean was forcibly taken over by a power far greater than man had ever seen. It was a deep, dark red with an eerie glow about its center. Water swirled inwards, swallowing the remanence of the boat.

The man said, that as he fled the deck, and dove into the water — a silence — over took him. He heard nothing but the sweet call of a siren, beckoning him down into the trenches.

But as he closed his eyes and turned away to brace the surface, he saw a glittering glimpse for out of the corner of his eyes.

It was the creature — the Grulien Monster — swimming towards the slowly sinking wreckage. He said it had claws made of webbing for hands, and hills covered its blue neck. He said it had long, black hair that flowed through the water. He said he saw it’s tail. It was shimmering in the light of the blaze. Greens and blues with deep purples and iridescent reds covered it’s tail like armor.

The man said, that as he broke the surface of the water, he saw but a moment of the creatures eyes.

He called them sad souls. He would always say, it had sad souls, this creature. He said it had the souls of a bird with no wings.

Prince’s getting cursed is how stories always go. Princess’s falling in love is how stories always end. But what happens when the princess is the one to deal the curse? What if the prince doesn’t want true loves kiss? What if the story changes direction? What if the characters go off script?

What happens then?

I hold my head high as I walk, because for once, I have purpose in my actions. My tricks and games are long gone. I am no longer a silly girl. “Prince!” I shout across the room, my voice carrying throughout the crowd. They begin to slowly part for me, giving me a path to the throne where he sits. I smirk at the stupid, wonderful shock on his face when he sees me. He thought I was dead. He thought I was DEAD. Well, think again little princeling. I am very much alive.

He finally seems to gain some of his composure back when I reach the foot of his glorified throne. “Should I bow first? Or should I get straight to the point.” I ask, now that the hall has fallen silent. I want everyone to hear what I have to say. When he doesn’t answer, I laugh. “Well, little princeling, I shall bow to you then.” And I stoop into a low, mocking curtsy. Still he won’t respond. “You were so happy to be rid of me, weren’t you? It didn’t last long, but I’m sure the reprieve was nice while it lasted, wasn’t it, princeling?” “I am king now.” He mutters in a low growl, finally speaking. “What was that?” I ask, hand to my ear. “I AM KING!” he shouts, and his echoing voice bounces around the large hall, causing the walls to seem as though they are and the verge of collapse.

“Oh. Well then, YOUR MAJESTY, I am so sorry I had to intrude on your most glorious party, but I have a curse to place upon your head, if you don’t mind.” Suddenly, he stands up, walking do the steps of the dais with a certain anger in his step. I am sure he means to scare me. I am sure he thinks I will not be able to stand my ground for long. Well then he is mistaken. As always.

Finally he stops, right in front of me, and our faces are so close, I’m not sure I can breathe. I can’t help but remember all the love I thought we had shared. All the kind words. All the kisses in the dark. All the unwilling blushes he always said came from when I made him feel nervous. All the lies that came with a knife in my gut.

“Give me your worst.” He whispers in my ear, a gentle tone that makes even those words sound like a kind complement. They might as well be. “I will.” I say, my voice just as his was, and then I lean in, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. I hope he feels something. Guilt. Shame. Anger. Then I step away and turn to the crowd.

“Because your king acts as though he has no heart at all, so he shall loose it, but by bit, until he is a shell, empty of any feeling but hate, until he turns to his grave.” Then I turn back to him. “Only when he can convince me he still loves me will he get back what was taken.” Then I place my hand on his heart, turning it to ash, and even though he should feel no different than he did before, horror fills his face. I love it.

“May your country prosper, my KING.” I yell over the loud shouts of terror coming from his subjects. I turn to walk away when he grabs my shoulder. “You don’t know what you’ve done, Leah.” His voice is shaky and filled with an awful hate. “You’re no different than you were when you tried to kill me. So, earn my trust again. Earn my LOVE. Try at least. I doubt you will.” Then I pull from his grasp, and leave him behind.

„I can’t believe Scrooge needed three ghosts to realize what an idiot he was and needed to change“, Benny said, after finishing the book as a homework assignment and shook his head in disbelief. „Why? What is so hard to believe about a person being blind to their own faults?“ his best fried replied. „I‘m just saying, it would be enough for me if one of my friends would point it out “, Benny said to his friend Jacob. „Well, you‘re not that much better“ he said in response, „while he was chasing money, you are chasing clout“, „That‘s something different, I don‘t harm any other people during that.“ Benny answered while obviously getting annoyed. Jacob knew his friend well enough, so he stopped arguing about it, before it could escalate to a screaming match. „Let‘s grab something to eat“, he proposed instead, and saw how Benny‘s expression calmed down immediately.

„I’m home“, Benny shouted, while he discarded his shoes into the corner of the entrance hall. „Hello honey, how was school?“, his mom‘s melodic voice came out of the living room. „Boring as always and I still got schoolwork left to do“, Benny answered, while he started to go upstairs. In his room he sat down on his comfortable gaming chair with a big sigh. „I really could use the time to edit some of my videos, but I guess it’s no use, the presentation won‘t appear magically“, he mumbled to himself, as he pulled out his Laptop and wrote the Title: „Fame in the olden Days, how even in the past people risked their life, just for a bit of publicity“. What an odd topic that his teacher has assigned to him. And how Boring. He started to do his research and found articles upon articles about people dying in the most ridiculous ways, for example like the girl who tried to jump over a pit full of venomous snakes. How stupid one had to be to risk their own health, just for a bit of fame, he thought to himself.

„Did you hear about the girl who got stuck in the cave, and slowly starved to death? They managed to recover the body today“, Jacob greeted Benny the next day at school. „Good morning to you too, Jacob“, he answered in a sarcastic manner, „what was she doing there anyway?“. „She heard that no one had ever managed to get from one end of the cave, to the other, because they are connected by an extremely narrow tunnel. So she decided to be the first person to do it, even life streamed the whole thing. In the end, millions were witness to her final breath“, Jacob finished, with a suggestive glance towards Benny. „Oh don‘t be like this you know I would never put my life at risk, just for some internet clout“, Benny replied, „anyways, the class is about to start“ he said, with a slightly pissed tone and left Jacob behind.

„Do you want to watch this Talkshow with me tonight?“ his Mother asked during dinner, „it is with multiple researchers, who essentially all believe that in the future the only thing able to kill humans, will be their own wish to stand out from the masses, I personally have hope that humans will eventually grow out of their greed for fame. I mean, imagine what a horrible fate that would be, being immortal and still dying because of something that doesn‘t matter in the afterlife anyway“. „I‘m intrigued, let‘s watch it“, replied Benny with a queasy feeling.

„Shit, another thousand followers down“, Benny stared at the numbers in utter disbelief. Seemed like casual Mountain biking wasn‘t enough to excite people anymore. If he didn‘t want to lose even more, he had to act. Now. He grabed his helmet and carefully crept down the stairs, avoiding all the creeky ones. Once he was on his bike, he drove arround a little bit, looking for the perfect spot. Than he saw it. The Railroads. Perfect. He set up his equipment and started filming. He would just get off when a train would come, but the additional risk surely would give him a bunch of new followers. Just as he wanted to leave the tracks, he slipped, and fell in a very unfortunate manner. „Shit, I can‘t move, I must have broken my leg“. Benny left out a whimper. Just as he said this, he heard a train approaching. The last thing Benny saw, were it‘s headlights.

I had to kill her. I never thought I could think such a thing. She was a piece of me as much as if she was my flesh. Hans married me for my face, another ornament for his pretty collection. Without a dowry and over 21, I was no bargain according to my eldest brother. Still I left my books and my little garden with a heavy heart. Such is the way for gentlewoman without means, governess or second wife. Our honeymoon was brief and uneventful. Hans didn’t mention his daughter until the carriage pulled up to the manor. I suspect the toddler slipped his mind. I can still picture her bone china face with hair black as a raven’s wing peeking from behind the skirts of one of the upstairs maids. “Rosenrot, this is Edelweiss,” Hans said. “It takes after its mother more the pity.” My bridegroom sniffed and turned away. I bowed to the wee babe and asked to enter her home. She looked at me shyly before throwing her porcelain arms wide. We were one. After losing three babies, I opened my near dead heart and found life with this motherless babe. I grew to understand Hans, the old fool, despised the child almost to the point of horror. Up until he suddenly died Hans tried to turn me against his little girl. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. No bad word I could hear against her, my snow flower. Oh my girl was lovely and brilliant. Of course she could be imperious and vain and yes a touch cruel. When I was cross with her, Edelweiss would hug me tight and all was forgiven. Yet the vicious whispers bloomed as my girl blossomed. I ignored the superstitious villagers. Ignoring my own brain, I trusted my heart. Once I saw her transformation on the full moon, once I saw her drinking from a young peasant, once I saw her red red lips stained with blood, the scales fell from my eyes. We fought. My crucifix caught the moonlight and she fled into the night. Now I sit in my boudoir before my looking glass ugly from the blood of her victims because I sheltered a monster. I hired a huntsman to track the creature, the daughter of my heart. I hold the proof of her death in a box in my hands. I can’t bear to see it. I was a stepmother and now I am the evil. I protected the world from this abomination yet I feel her still in the room with me right behind me and though it is wrong I would give my life for one more embrace in her snow white arms.

Warren was playing with his toy cars in Kindergarten at recess.

“Brrrrr” he said, spitting all over himself. He splashed around in his spit and pooped a little bit. Warren was having a great time.

Samantha came over. She had no toys to play with. She was a loner.

Warren did not let her play with his toys because he had already marked them with his infamous scent. He called it his “lavendar extreme” scent. It was a very spunky smell, and know one knew how he produced it

“Please let me play with your toys,” Samatha said.

With a blunt “NO,” Warren threw a toy car at Samanthas legs. She had to get all 4 of her limbs amputated after this incident.

“Warren! What is the meaning of this?” Professor Smooshy-Poosh yipped!

“Samantha wants me to.. to…” Warren could not say the word ‘share’ without puking in his mouth a little bit.

“Well you need to share! You have so many toy cars!”

“Balderdash!” Warren stated as a confident businessman. He had an impressive resume!

Professor Pooshy-shoop snatched one pf Warren’s toys and handed it to Samantha. Samantha grabbed it with her squishy banana fingers and scampered off into the crowd.

“You need to learn that sharing truly is caring” the professor goolishly shrieked.

Warren had a unibrow and it drooped down because he was angry.

“This is your final warning, warren. Im calling your parents.”

Professor Shooshie-Oosh grabbed her gold-plated iphone 14 pro max (lots of bling) and dialed Warren’s parents.

Just then, her second phone in her other pocket started ringing. She was Warren’s mother! Omg!!!

Ring ring ring!

“I wander who that could be,” she pondered.

She held up a phone to each ear and asked, “hello?”

The feedback loop created by the phones became louder and louder. The word ‘hello’ rang in the professors head and scrambled her mind until she passed out in the grass.

Warren was now exempt from punishment. Yippee…

Thank for read

Amy,Claire,Justin,and Kade have been going to the same school ever sense they were in kindergarten. Claire was good at math but not at reading. Justin was good at science but didn’t care for math. Kade loved English but not reading. But Amy loved to help them in subjects that they had trouble in. One day they we’re leaving school but left there work in the classroom and forgot it. The next day it was not there nether was Amy. The called and texted Amy but no answer. Meanwhile Amy had took there work and was copping of of it but did not ask. The next day Amy was with her friends when there work she was trying to return fell out of her backpack. Her friends looked like they’re seen a ghost. Amy picked it up and gave it write to them and started apologizing for taking it. Her friends had no emotion on there faces so they forgave her but told her not to take it without there permission. Amy and her friends continued there day until the end of the day when Claire couldn’t find her water bottle for cheerleading. The next day Amy ran to Claire’s locker trying to be unnoticed but got caught in the act by Claire this time Claire was mad because she told Amy to ask permission first and she didn’t. After that Claire didn’t talk to Amy for the rest of the day.

The leaves have changed color and the breeze is rather cold. I wonder if I’ll remember a simple day like this, even when I’m old. It’s Wednesday. I’ve never really liked Wednesday’s. It feels as thought the day is sagging from the burdens of the past and the future.

“I’ve always hated Wednesdays" the whisper escapes my mouth.

“How come?” The stranger to my right asks. The bench creaks as the stranger sits down. Tearing my eyes from the park for one second, I catch a glimpse of luxerions dark brown hair. My cane hits the side walk three times as I prepare to speak but the young gentlemen next to me continues on, “I find Wednesday’s rather beautiful, I always meet my wife on Wednesdays” I could hear the warmth of his smile in every word.
“We were just married yesterday, weren’t we? Yes that’s right on Tuesday” he smiles.

“Well…“ I begin gesturing to the man.

“Tom" he points to himself.

“Ah yes, Tom. You seem like a lovely young man..“ I comment.

“Why thank you sir..I” he turns in my direction.

“How old are you? ” I ask.

“twenty two” he answers.

“Well… Tom listen in. It’s wonderful that you love Wednesday’s truly. Just you wait, until you have your grandkids screaming at you for presents and your doctor scheduling weekly appointments that your daughter is late to pick you up for,” I turn to the young man “Then…just then you’ll understand why I hate Wednesday’s”.
A silence echos in the park as the leaves rustle in a hurry.

After looking out at the park, I feel my back begin to ache as I wonder just how long it is going to take my daughter to pick me up for my appointment. ”Oh, hello sir… today is Wednesday correct?" the young man begins.

“Why yes it is” I chuckle, “ we were just talk-”

“I love Wednesdays. I find them rather beautiful. I always meet my wife on Wednesdays. In fact on Tuesda-” he continues.

“Tom! Tom.. ” a young lady runs up with a golden retriever. " well, well I was just talking about our wedding yesterday” the young man smiles.

“Were you now?" She giggles. As she helps him up, she turns back to me and whispers “thank you”.

“For what?“ I chuckle.

“We’ve been married for three years, but it’s been months since he has mentioned Wednesday. It’s been Tuesday for the longest time “ she smiles and begins their journey away.

“Hey dad, so sorry I’m late. I know how much you hate it when I’m late but I got caught up at work and little Janie was so hyper…“ she rambles.

“Thank you” the words wash over me like a blanket. “For what, dad?” a rather confused look covers her face.
“Just…thank you” the silence is forever comforting. “Wednesdays are rather beautiful”.

I wrote this pretty quickly, and a lot of the words in this were new to me (I overused Google big time). If you see any mistakes or notice anything that can be improved, definitely let me know!

—

“I possess a substantial capacity for English in both its recorded and verbalized configurations,“ I said confidently.

Erik Franklin blinked and stared at me for a long moment, before he scribbled something on his notepad.

That didn’t bode well.

“I didn’t get the job,” I said, collapsing backwards onto the couch with a sigh.

Claire doesn’t even bother to look up from the notebook she was writing in. How rude. “That’s what happens when you talk the way you do.”

“It was a formal interview!” I protested. “I spoke in a formal manner, as was fitting in that situation.”

“You can talk casually in a job interview, Max,” she said, glancing up at me over her glasses. “You already speak fancier than the average person. You really don’t need to be complicating it any more.”

“How is it a blunder to demonstrate to an employer that I have an excellent vocabulary?”

“It shows that you have bad word choice,” she said. “It makes it seem like you’re unable to show restraint, and it reflects poorly on your judgement.”

I gaped at her. “Excuse me — I have excellent word choice! My words are always advanced, my sentences are /always/ grammatically correct, and I know for a fact that I always use my words in a context that fits with their respective definitions.”

“That’s not what I…” Claire shut her mouth and looked away. I waited patiently for what she had to say; while she was almost certainly wrong in this instance, I do value her opinion. “It comes across the same way it does when a student pads their essays with excessively wordy phrases and unnecessarily complicated words,” she said at last.

I blinked at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the way some students use long or obscure words to make their essays seem impressive to teachers,” she rephrased.

“I don’t see how that’s a bad thing. I always showcased my vocabulary in my essays,” I said.

Claire stared at me for a moment before sighing. “Of course you did,” she muttered. “And how did the teachers like that?”

I crossed my arms and lifting up my chin stubbornly. “My English teachers were all incompetent,” I informed her. “They don’t understand good literature. And neither did Erik Franklin! It’s not /my/ fault he’s too stupid to understand, and clearly that work was below me, if he’s an accurate representation of who they would be looking for. I wouldn’t want to work somewhere that would entertain mediocrity like that anyway.”

Claire was shaking her head at this point. When I finished my rant, she said, “It’s not about intelligence. It’s about your ability to communicate effectively with others. If you constantly use big words, you overcomplicate communication and increase the likelihood that you will use words which those around you don’t know, thereby risking otherwise unnecessary misunderstanding and raising the amount of time and effort people have to spend figuring out what you’re trying to say.”

I stared at her for a long moment, before I slowly shook my head. She exhaled heavily, the sound filled to the brim with frustration, and she put down her pen.

“I’ll try to say this in a language you might understand,” she said, looking me directly in the eyes. “Your potentiality for accomplishment is significantly encumbered by your ineptitude for temperance and your unequivocal deficiency in even an adequate magnitude of perspicacity.”

My eyebrows rose and my eyes widened. Something nagged at my mind and I felt like I should probably try to figure out her point, but something else had taken over my focus.

Impressed, I said, “Perspicacity is a good word. What’s it mean?”

“You were supposed to come back for me,” Mia cried as she sat on the ground. Sebastian looked down at her. “What?” He asked, panicked as he squatted next to her. Blood poured out of Mia’s stomach and tears rolled down her streaks. “Amanda said you’d be here. Amanda said that you’d learnt your lesson, Seby. She told me you’d changed.” Sebastian was so confused. He didn’t know he was supposed to be anywhere. He was fighting with Freddie in on of the fields. He needed all of the practice that he could get to train for battling Grenwald. Amanda didn’t say anything to him about being with Mia. He knew that Mia could fend for herself, but he didn’t know anymore. She was about to die. He didn’t want her to die. The truth was that he had feelings for Mia. He wanted to per-sue a relationship with her. “Mia, you’re okay, honey,” Sebastian said, stroking her hair. Mia cried into his hand as she slowly died. Sebastian kissed her forehead, tears streaming down his face. Amanda sprinted up to Sebastian when Mia was already cold. Her body was already lifeless. Amanda was way too late. Sebastian started to resent Manda. He started to resent himself for not being there for Mia. For not hearing Amanda when she told Sebastian that Mia might need him today. She might need him a lot. But he didn’t here. He didn’t learn that the girls needed him. “Sebastian!” Amanda cried, running to Mia. Sebastian caught Manda before she could get to Mia’s body and held her. “She’s gone, Amanda.” “You should have been here, Sebastian,” she sobbed. “I thought you’d learned. I thought you’d learned.”