Writing Prompt
Writings
Writings
STORY STARTER
Write a story about a character who has no idea what a weekend is.
Why do they not understand this concept?
Writings
Date: 5/3/24 Written by: Safia Valika Age:16
Leaves blowing forcefully Away from their only home Down to an unpleasant pile Ready to be tossed away
As they seize from the perfect green To an ugly brown Pleading for the absent water As they begin to weaken
From the warm and blue skies To the cold and windy gray As the flowers so prevalent in spring Now falter and die down
Your painting is a world Where the cold wind is a peaceful breeze That carries each leaf to its own space That brings back their power and strength Making their brown color be beautiful
Where the bare branch still stands Through the windâs yearn for its leaves Through each leafâs goodbye Maintaining its beauty and shape
Where new flowers begin to bloom Where shades of yellow cast above Where beauty is present In the season full of sad goodbyes
Footnote: This is based off of the painting you made during winter break of 2023-24!! Remember the beautiful leaves and bra
Amrynnâs eyes grew distant, considering. The memories were streaked with motion blur, and ânot long;â they opened their mouth to say, only for their thoughts to be interrupted by the soft ticking of a clock.
toc⊠toc⊠tocâŠ
âŠstill there?
âEeh!â They jerked, swiping away the spidery touch. Someone yelped, yanking back a hand. Blinking, they stumbled over an apology. âSorry. Sorry! I spaced. What did you ask me?â
âYouâre fine,â Chris rubbed the offending hand, twisting the watch around her wrist. âI asked how long it took.â
Ah.
âWould you believe me if I said I did not know?â
âExplain.â
âTime is not the same on my planet. We do not have a moon,â They gestured to the lopsided crecent in the evening sky, âand our sun does not set. Night and day are places, not moments. We do not have âweek endings.ââ
âYou have a year, though, surely?â
âYes. And other groupings. But if not for the need to run the world on a schedule, time is just a feeling to me.â
âSo⊠homework doesnât just feel like it takes a ling time cause itâs boring, it does take a long time?â
âSort of, yes. In any case, what need was there to track time in space, without a schedule, without even a year? It is all artifical. I could find out. Convert it into days, months, years as you know them. It would only mean something to you.â
If this answer satisfied Chris, Amrynn did not know.
It was a normal week until a weird looking ship lands on our front yard. My mom steps out to take a look at it. It had gray powder spurting out everywhere. Wanna know whats weirder? The seats were upside down and so was the steering wheel! But what really shocked my mom was that sitting inside the behicle was a little boy who looked just my age. He was asleep too.My mom picked him up and he suddenly jolted from his sleep.âi dont want to hurt you , i just wanted to make sure you were okâ the boy relaxed. âDo youknow where you came from?â âMy home, planet wanaka frakaâ âwhat?â my mom thought âuhh ive never heard of thst beforeâ âwhere are ypur parents ?â She asks âat my home they sent me down here because i was different â âthey donât want meâ this was unbelievable to my mom who canât imagine being a parent who doesnât love their kids.But sje still believed their might be a possibility he was right. She looked up the planet on her computer and realized thst it was aterrible townnin Saturn where kids were tortured and discriminated because of their differences. Every singleday kids would work day snd night they never got s break. Thry slso hid the meaning of weekend and good days too from kids. It was horrible from what she saw. Our family was a busy family with 4 kids. We had a lot of events coming up like purboldrst leaving for college, our aunt getting released from cancer snd a garage sale. But we knew we had to make time for this kid. We couldnât just leave him. We worked through our busy schedules and adopted him. We also taught him the right side up( he only knew upside down) and most importantly we taught him about weekends. It was a horrendous journey because he was a hard kid to teach (cant blame hom) he missed his home and his life but eventually he became the best funniest and sweetest person wver. He called himself the character who didnt know what weekends were đ«¶đŒđșđ Always remember that there is always a way ghings can work no matter how hard the journey getsđđ
*"Weekend."
"We friend."
*"Weekend."
"We send."
*"Week."
"Week."
*"End."
"Begins...all over again."
*"There's absolutely no way you believe you're saying what I'm saying."
"Pft! No! I'm trying, really! Here, do it again and I'll watch super close."
*Sigh. "Fine." Ahem. "Weekend."
"W-wally..."
*"I'm gonna stop you right there. Let's try this thing backwards, kay?"
"Yup!"
*"End"
"End."
*"Week."
"Speak."
*"Week."
"Meat."
*"Week."
"Weak."
*"Oh my gosh you got it!!! You said what I said!"
"Sure."
*"Now try it forwards. Weekend."
"Weakened."
*"That's it!"
"Really? Huh! No wonder you're tired."
POV: 1st year ~~Remus~~ âBut I donât understand James,â said Sirius looking confused, âWhy wouldnât you do schoolwork on Saturday and Sunday? Thatâs what Mother and Father had me and Reggie to do. And Father went to work those days too.â James sighed. âWell, for everyone else, those two days are called âThe Weekendâ, and you usually donât have to go to work or school. You clean and relax and just hangout.â âCome on Sirius, Itâs not that hard to understand,â said Peter. âGuys, why donât we see if the dictionary can explain the weekend,â said Remus, who walked over and opened the common room door, âFiiine.â groaned the other Marauders. James pulled a big book off the top shelf and handed to Remus. âI couldâve gotten that easier than you, you know,â Remus said teasingly. âI know, but itâs almost the full moon, so it wouldâve hurt more for you to get it down.â âYeah but- â âGuys! Can we just look it up already?â Sirius asked impatiently, âAnd keep your voice down when youâre talking about Remusâs Furry Little Problem.â He whispered. âYeah I know.â James answered. They opened the book and flipped to the âwâ section. âOk, the book says the weekend is âthe period from Friday evening through Sunday evening, especially regarded as a time for leisure.ââ Remus read quietly, trying not to disturb the other students in the Library. They all looked at Sirius expectantly. âUm⊠ok, I guess I get that. Thanks for helping me guys.â Sirius smiled at them weakly and walked out of the library before anyone could stop him. âI wonder whatâs wrong,â James said, âIâm going to ask him-â âWait James, I think I know. Iâll meet you in the common room, alright?â Remus looked at James, âOk,â James replied, âCome on Pete, we can play exploding snap.â They left the library and went their separate ways. ~~Sirius~~ Sirius quickly walked out of the library, his thoughts tumbling around in his mind. He ran up the astronomy tower stairs and climbed out of the window to sit on the roof. He was sitting on the flat roof whenever Remus climbed up to join him. âHey Padfoot, are you ok?â Remus asked quietly, âI donât know. I guess Iâm just mad at my parents for keeping this from me,â he said, âand I know itâs stupid, but-â Remus interrupted, âNo, Sirius itâs not stupid to want to be like everyone else. I mean, everyone has the weekend. Itâs just like, part of life or something, I donât know.â âThanks Moony,â he smiled at Remus, âletâs go back to the common room.â âGoodnight James!â Yelled Peter, âNight Remus!â Yelled Sirius, âGânight Sirius!â Yelled James, âGoodnight Peter!â Yelled Remus. Sirius smiled. He loved doing this every night. He was falling asleep, when he suddenly had a thought. âHey Rem?â He said quietly, âAre you still awake? I have a question.â â Iâm awake now,â said a sleepy voice in the bed next to his, âwhat did you want to ask?â âWho came up with the weekend?â Sirius asked. âWell, it was most likely Henry Ford, a muggle man who had a car factory, but some wizards claim it was Duggulous Hatson, the wizard who was at one point Minister of Magic. Does this answer your question?â Remus asked. âYeah, thanks.â âOk good. Go to sleep now, âkay?â âOk, I will.â Sirius answered sleepily. Sirius fell asleep almost immediately, but not before he heard Remus softly snoring. He was glad he had such good friends.
The End
âYou do know what a weekend is?â Myrtle said through her screen door. The android detective tossed her a comical confused look. âDoes not compute,â Hacthet said. Then he started do the Funky Robot dance on Myrtleâs front porch. Myrtle opened the door and pulled him through. âI have neighbors.â âYou wouldnât think so from that outfit,â Hatchet said. Myrtle re-tied her bathrobe over her pajamas. He turned her and gave a gentle push towards her bedroom. âGet dressed hussy. Iâll wake the boy and weâll make breakfast. Hurry, Chief, the gameâs a foot.â Myrtle rushed into a pair of jeans, boots, and flannels. Pulling her long dark hair into a ponytail, Myrtle walked back to the kitchen. Hatchet was standing behind a sleep tousled Django teaching him how to beat eggs. Suddenly Myrtle was thrown into the past when my boys would get up early to make her special surprisingly messy breakfasts. Hatchet caught her eye. They stared at each other an invisible rope tied them to one another. Then Hatchet quickly looked away. âMom! How do you want your omelette rare or well done?â Myrtle smiled for her son. The three of them had started âcounselingâ to help Django adjust to re-connecting with Hatchet after the years they had spent apart. Myrtle always put air quotes around the word counseling in her mind because even though she believed therapy was good for other people she didnât trust it. She never let her guard down. She was never one for talking about feelings. And she never forgave anyone who hurt her once. Thatâs one of the reasons she had fallen for Hatchet in the first place, part of her believed he could never lie or leave. Androids were supposed to be perfect. âDad said he needed you for a big case? Does that make you Watson? Will there be a big laser fight? Will you be on the news?â Myrtle put Django in a loving headlock. Django chattered on full speed while Hatchet busied himself cooking the Denver omelettes. They ate their breakfast in the car with Django still talking the entire way. When they stopped to drop him off at Ritaâs house, Django even allowed his mom to kiss him goodbye. âBe good, Iâll pick you up soon. And remember Iâm always Sherlock,â Myrtle said. Back in the car, Hatchet told the SatNav to take them to the Vi-Jon Flower Market. âYou know he thinks we are getting back together,â Myrtle said. Hatchet nodded this heavy gray head and stared out of the passenger window. They drove in silence to the market. âWhatâs the score?â âMy CI told me the Market is a good place to pick up information on the Saturnine murders,â Hatchet said. âWhat kind of info? We know FlorCorp ha an iron grip on all of the distributors in their region and now they are moving in on the growers. Everybody knows and no one talks.â They parked and began walking with the Saturday morning crowd. Hatchet touched her arm guiding Myrtle towards one of the flower stalls. They looked at lilies and roses and a bouquet of sunflowers that cost more more than her first car. Hatchet chose a small bouquet of lavender. Myrtle accepted it and they held hands as they strolled. âI just donât want to be the bad guy here. Jang has had it rough andââ âTrust me you can never be the bad guy. He pushes against you because youâre his rock. He loves you, he always loves you. Thank you for letting me try to be a good father again.â Hatchet spoke softly pressing his cool cheek against her ear. She wanted to lean into him gather comfort like she used to before everything went wrong. âYou two should get a room.â They approached the vendor, a well muscled android clearly former military grade, surrounded by delicate orchids and bizarre succulents. The seller pointed out many large glorious specimens. Myrtleâs picked out the tiniest one. It had powdery pale celadon leaves on a stubby stalk so weird it was adorable. Myrtle glared at Hatchet to pay. He grimaced and paid. They walked the entire market pretending to be just another pair of lovebirds enjoying the morning. Back in the car, she sighed with frustration. âHow can we find out who killed ChiChi and Judy if no one will come forward.â The car backed out slowly and joined the traffic heading to the âburbs. Hatchet pulled the plant out of its pot. âHey donât break it!â A silver milli-disc fell into his open palm. âWatson letâs head to the station and examine this first.â
I walked into my third class, more nervous than I had ever been before. They were all staring, and I wondered why. Mom had told me I was different. That people were cruel and would do anything in their power just to see me suffer.
At the time, I just thought she was being dramatic. Turns out she was right. Not even my science partner from second period would speak to me, and we had a worksheet to complete together.
It wasnât how I looked, was it? If anything, I blended into these kids like a chameleon. I was pale, with straightened, brown hair and blue eyes. I was wearing a solid light blue t-shirt and jeans, with some black and white Vans. I was probably one of the most basic kids there.
It wasnât the way I spoke, since I barely spoke at all. I hadnât really made any type of impression on anyone at this school, so why had they been staring and avoiding me. I decided towards the end of my third class that I would silently power through the rest of the day and lock myself in my room, never returning to this place again.
But something strange happened as I was walking to lunch. A girl with brunette, voluminous hair and golden brown skin walked up to me rather quickly and grabbed my hand, smiling at me.
âHey, do you wanna sit with me? I mean, only if you want to. But Iâm sure you do, right? I mean, who wouldnât wannaââ
âDo I know you?â I abruptly cut off her ranting, taking my hand out of hers. âIâm Alexis, but everyone calls me Alex.â She put her hand out for me to shake. I looked down at her hand and back up at her, and took my hand in hers once again. We only embraced for a few seconds, as she was the one to pull her hand away first.
âAnd you?â she asked. âHuh?â
âWhatâs your name?â
âEllyssa,â I replied a bit discreetly, walking with my head down to wherever my newfound friend had been heading. âOoh! Found a booth,â Alex mumbled, most likely to herself. She took my hand again and dragged me over to the booth, taking a seat on one side leaving me to sit on the opposing one.
âSo, Ellyssa, right? Can I call you Ellie?â she asked, and I only nodded. âSure. Nobody really calls me that, butâ itâs nice, I guess.â
âI like you already, Ellie.â
I smiled at her remark as she began almost instantly talking about something else. I hadnât been listening at first, but soon I would find out that this exclamation of hers had been more important than the many others.
âSo, Ellie, wanna hang out this weekend? I mean, since weâre friends now.. n stuff.â
Probably a new restaurant in town or something.
âNever heard of it, but Iâm sure This Weekend has great food,â I smiled, âdo they have a website? Iâll look up the menu right now.â
âFor what?â I could see her expression become slightly confused, but it was exaggerated in a way. I could tell there were other emotions she was trying to hide.
âThe restaurant you were talking about. This Weekend?â
She looked at me with concerned looking brows, and took both my hands in hers quickly before looking down at her lap and mumbling something.
âWowâ they were right about you,â she exhaled, gliding her thumb over my knuckles, âthe rumors were true.â
I looked at her with a genuine look of confusion. âWhat are you talking about, Alex? What rumors?â She looked pained by having to speak to me about it.
âEllie, do you really donât know what a weekend is?â
âThe restaurant? Well, I do now, you just told me!â
She let out another stressed-out sigh.
âThatâ that isnât what a weekend is. A weekend is Saturday and Sunday, and you get the day off from school and stuff..â she struggled to find the right words to explain whatever the heck she had been talking about.
âOh!â I exclaimed. âIs that why everyone has been staring at me and avoiding me? All because I didnât know what that was? I mean, Iâm sure thereâs tons of people who donât knowââ
âEveryone knows what a weekend is,â she started, âitâs common knowledge.â
âSo, why didnât we have them back where Iâm from? We did the same thing on Saturday and Sunday as we did any other day.â
âWell, that explains,â she sighed. âJust, if anyone asks you what a weekend is, tell them âSaturday and Sunday,â those exact words. Okay?â
âOkay..â I responded in an unsure tone.
âSee ya around, Ellie,â she patted me on the shoulder before shooting up from the table and disappearing into a crowd of people.
Well, that was weird.
The bell has run to signify the end of the week. Kids scurried out of the classroom, ready to become couch potatoes, laying on the couch, picking up their controllers, turning on their Xbox or PlayStation and playing for countless hours. They most likely also stuff their bodies with unhealthy foods like chips, crackers, soda and pizza.
And while they do that, I stay behind. I write endlessly on a blank binder paper, spoiling each page with my pencil. Sentence. Sentence. Sentence. I keep writing sentences nonstop. Each sentence I make, I present to Mr. God. He shakes his head, forcing the paper back into my hands and pointing back to my desk. I trudge to my desk, regretting even breaking a commandment.
Commandment 1,000,000: Thou shalt not believe in weekends, for they are days of laziness.
âAlright then, Jeff. Hope you enjoyed your first day. See you Mondayâ, Rick announced, grabbing his briefcase from beside his desk and straightening his suit.
Jeff, the new guy, paused in the middle of getting ready to leave, only one arm through the armhole of his jacket.
âMonday? Thatâs three days from now. What about tomorrow?â, he asked with a frown.
Now it was Ricks turn to frown, confusion pulling at his features.
âTomorrowâs Saturdayâ, Rick replied.
ââŠokay, and? Itâs still another dayâ
Rick shook his head, placing the briefcase back on the ground.
âItâs not just any day. Itâs a weekendâ
âAn ending of a week? What are you talking about? The week doesnât end. The days just repeat themselvesâ, Jeff said, slipping the second arm into the jacket. His face reflected Ricks same confused one, though it was for a different reason.
âI mean, yeah, youâre kinda right. But on Saturday and Sunday thereâs no work. The office is closed so we have those days offâ, Rick explained. Rick knew it was Jeffâs first day at work, but he had to have had other jobs before, right? Thereâs no way he hadnât heard about weekends before .
âWhat? Iâm so confused. So you mean to tell me that we donât come to work for the next two days?â, Jeff pressed, hands on his hips.
âDid you look at the employee contract, Jeff?â
âYeah, I read the thing front to backâ
âOkay, but do you understand the concept of weekends? Theyâre like rest days where you donât need to come inâ
Jeff cocked his head to the side, as if Ricks words were totally preposterous and impossible to wrap his head around.
âWhy would I need rest days? I donât want to take a break. I love it here!â, Jeff explained, his voice rising excitedly as he spoke.
Rick could practically feel the giddy enjoyment spilling off of Jeff. His eyes were wide and glimmering with glee and his cheeks were flushed with a mirthful youth that Rick hadnât seen in before in the office. In comparison to the new guy, everyone else, with their dead eyes and waxy sun-lacked skin, were walking shadows beside Jeffâs sunny rays.
Rick sighed and picked up his briefcase again. He tossed Jeff one last smile, half pitying and half polite.
âYouâll change your mind soon enough, trust me. Eventually youâll look forward to weekends. See ya, Jeffâ, Rick said, turning around and exiting his cubical.
Once he was close to the doors, he heard Jeffâs voice from behind his shoulder.
âWell what am I suppose to do for two whole days?â
Rick shook his head, prepared to step foot outside the sliding doors when a thought occurred to him. It was a cruel and selfish thought, but nevertheless he found himself asking the question before the could think to stop himself.
âWell, I have an unfinished expense report and some spreadsheets I was planning to start on Monday. Did you want to do them this weekend?â, Rick asked, turning around to address Jeff.
Immediately Jeffâs eyes lit up and he clapped his hands together in glee.
âAre you sure? Because Iâd love to. It would give me something to do over theâŠâ, Jeff paused as if trying to remember something, âthe ending of the weeksâ, he finished.
Rick grinned, pleased that his backhanded suggestion had worked. In all truthfulness, he was hoping the new guy would be eager enough to take some tasks off his load. Rick now looked forward to a much lighter Monday than before. Maybe heâd even be able to sneak off for an extended bathroom break and watch the game on his phone.
âPerfect! Iâll send you my stuff later. Bye!â
With that said Rick turned on his heel and walked out the building, eager to get away before the new guy changed his mind.
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