Writing Prompt

Once upon a time, there was a guy named Tyler who had a superpower - well, sort of. He had ADHD, which meant his brain had a knack for getting easily distracted. Now, Tyler had an important task at hand - cleaning his room. But little did he know, this seemingly simple task would turn into a hilarious adventure of distractions and detours.

Tyler began his mission with great determination. Armed with a trash bag and a broom, he set out to conquer the clutter that had accumulated over the years. But as soon as he started, he stumbled upon a box of old toys from his childhood. Suddenly, the allure of nostalgia took over, and Tyler found himself reliving his youth, playing with action figures and building towering Lego structures.

Hours passed, and Tyler’s room remained as messy as ever. In fact, it seemed even messier now, with toys strewn across the floor. But Tyler didn’t mind. He was having too much fun, lost in a world of imagination and forgotten memories.

Meanwhile, Tyler’s friend, Dave, popped in for a visit. He took one look at the chaotic scene and couldn’t help but chuckle. “Tyler, buddy, what happened to cleaning your room?”

Tyler grinned sheepishly. “Well, I got a little sidetracked. But hey, look at this epic battle I’ve created! It’s like a mini superhero movie!”

Dave shook his head in amusement. “You never fail to surprise me, Tyler. But don’t you think it’s time to get back on track?”

Tyler nodded, realizing he had lost sight of his original goal. He reluctantly bid farewell to his childhood treasures and refocused his attention on cleaning. However, as he picked up a dusty book, he suddenly had an epiphany - the entire house needed a makeover!

With a burst of energy, Tyler abandoned his room and began rearranging furniture, painting walls, and redecorating with wild enthusiasm. Dave watched in awe, unable to comprehend Tyler’s whirlwind of productivity and creativity.

“Tyler, I thought you were cleaning your room, not transforming the entire house!” Dave exclaimed.

Tyler shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, you know, a change of scenery can do wonders! Plus, I’ve always wanted to try my hand at interior design. It’s like cleaning, but with flair!”

Dave shook his head, both amazed and bewildered by Tyler’s ADHD thought process. “You truly are a force of nature, my friend. But don’t forget about that project you have due at work!”

Tyler’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh, right! The project! I completely forgot! But hey, I’ve got an even better idea. Instead of working on that project, I’m going to write a song about it! It’ll be the most epic work-related ballad ever!”

Dave facepalmed, unable to keep up with Tyler’s ever-evolving plans. “Tyler, sometimes I don’t know how your mind works. But hey, if you can turn a project into a song, I guess that’s something!”

And so, Tyler’s ADHD thought process continued to baffle and amuse those around him. While his distractions and detours may have seemed chaotic, there was a certain charm in his ability to find joy and inspiration in everyday situations. And amidst the laughter and confusion, Tyler’s unique perspective brought a little extra color and laughter to the world.

He tapped his fingers on his desk, anxiously waiting for his acceptance letter. His room was still, the fan was off, and the sunlight and dustmotes swirled in a thin steam coming from a smal break in the shutters. It was empty, but it was home. His brother, who kept this house as clean as possible, came in the room. He was wearing his cross country jersey and glasses. "Can you go to the grocery store to get some milk for my cereal? We're out." "Sure. Just watch my laptop for me, mk?" he stood up, a bit reluctant. "Ok," his brother replied, looking at an invisible thing on the ceiling. His brother’s dark brown eyes were sad in a way. He stood up and walked out the door, wearing only sandals and a coat. He started the car.

His brother stared at the laptop for five seconds before he decided to surf some of his tabs. "Why does he need me to watch it anyway?" he muttered. Then, a notification popped up. “You have been accepted into Harvard….” He read.

He jogged down the street after he parked, muttering swears as his breath puffed in front of him. Why did the parking have to be so far from the store? He shivered, even though exercise was making him sweat. Winter was coming full force, and he wasn’t ready for it. On his way, he passed by a cute little corner shop named, Victorias Secret. He was a boy, but his mom would be pleased to find new underwear on the front doorstep of her house. He came in, conscious of the stares of women, and bought plus size sixteen underwear for his mom. He thanked the cashier, who was eyeing him, and left. Was it him? Or did the air feel jollier, more festive? He walked, absorbing the city and its beauty. On his way he passed a phone case store. His case was old anyway. He looked for hours…

“Here,” she said to her son. Hands him a piece of paper.

“What is this?” Robbie asks.

“A checklist,” mom says. “So you can focus on important things. And I get no more calls from school asking me to bring your lunch.”

“What if I forget to check it?”

“Don’t be a smart-aleck,” mom says. “I love you.”

Robbie didn’t forget to use the checklist.

He started to use it every day.

Soon he was using it on weekends.

The list expanded over weeks, months, years.

The checklist spanned pages by the time he married and started a family.

Robbie’s wife said, are the children getting their own list?

“Only if they need it,” he said. “The burden is great, checking off all these things.”

Decades passed and Robbie lay on his deathbed, surrounded by children and grand-children.

Weakly, he unfolded a piece of paper and handed it to his oldest child.

“A checklist,” he said.

“Pop, it only has one item on it.”

“I know,” Robbie answered.

The eldest read it out loud. “Love everything and the rest will get done.”

HONK! …HONK!

“Jasmine, I have no idea why these people keep honking their horn’s, that’s not going to make this traffic jam move any faster!” Keisha exclaimed.

Jasmine sitting in the passenger seat of Keisha’s Kia Soul, briefly glanced up from scrolling through her TikTok videos on her cellphone, and began shaking her golden brown sister locks.

“ Wow! I know girl! that’s one thing that I’ve never understood, why people have the tendency to do that! But …when you come to think about it, we have been stuck in this traffic for about 20 minutes, so I guess everyone’s getting a little frustrated and irritated.”

“ I’m so glad we headed out a couple hours early to pick Tyrone up from the airport. I haven’t seen my “Boo” in six weeks, because he’s been away…” “ I know Keisha! Jasmine playfully interrupted. He’s been away for his national guards training. Don’t forget he may be your fiancé, but he’s my brother!” She chuckled.

“ I just do not want to be late picking him up, because I know how it is when you come in from a trip and you’re ready to go home… but you’re stuck at the airport. That can be super disappointing. Keisha insisted, with a look of concern now on her face, as she surveyed the bumper to bumper traffic.

The traffic would pick up and slow down but mostly they were inching along at a snails pace.

“ Keisha, thanks for allowing me to ride along with you to pick up my brother! Even though I did have an ulterior motive. She screeched, as and looked sheepishly, while twisting her locks with her index finger.

“Your welcome girl, you’re my soon to be sister-in-law” Keisha giggled. “Soooooo we’re going to be doing a lot of things together here in the near future. And I’m looking forward to it, because you and I have so many things in common, especially our love for thrift shop bargain finds.”

“You’re absolutely right “ Jazmine agreed, nodding her head up and down vigorously, as they both erupted into laughter.

“ And that brings me to my ulterior motive…”

“ Wait a minute Jasmine! … Wait a minute! Yeahhhh! looks like whatever was causing the traffic jam is now resolved!” Keisha excitedly announced. She could now drive just a bit faster, but not quite the regular speed limit.

“ Yeahhh!” Jasmine now chimed in.” Keisha! as I was trying to say… about my ulterior motive…”

“ Yes girl! spit it out!”

Jasmine gave a toothy smile. “Since we both LOOOOVE thrifting, and it appears we’re going to be a little early picking up Tyrone, do you think we could possibly stop by that new thrift shop which is not too far from the airport?” Jasmine asked with a bit of hesitation in her voice.

“Oh that’s right Jasmine! they are having the grand opening! for the new ‘Thrift and More!’ Keisha cheered, as she glanced over at Jasmine, and gave her a high five hand tap.

“Thrift and More, I believe is only 15 minutes from the airport, so we should have time to run in, do a little retail therapy and still make it in time to pick up my Boo!” Keisha continued as they both smiled with glee.

Kesha continued to drive as she programmed the location for the new thrift store into her GPS.

After arriving at the new thrift boutique Keisha and Jasmine were overwhelmed and overjoyed! They had hoped to have at least an hour of retail therapy in before Tyrone’s flight arrived.

Keisha and Jasmine each hastily went through the clothing on the clothes rack, “I love this place!” Keisha shrieked. “Me too!” Jasmine responded, as she held a purple and white cotton sundress, away from her to get a better view of the item.

“What do you think about this maxi skirt?” Keisha asked. Do you think it’ll go with this lavender blouse? She continued.

“ I think I want to try this baby on” Jasmine responded.

“Along with those other five items that you have swung over your arm?” Keisha jokingly asked.

“Jasmine if you make me late picking up my Boo__”

“ I won’t Keisha I promise” Jasmine insisted as she glanced at her Apple Watch and headed into the dressing room.

After about forty five minutes of hastily shopping, they each completed their purchases, and were now weighed down with shopping bags. The enthusiastic duo made their way back to Keisha’s vehicle.

“ What a great detour! Jasmine exclaimed, flashing her bright smile.

“Yell! that was so much fun!” Keisha agreed.

Back on the road about ten minutes away from the airport Keisha spotted a sign that said Garage Sale ( designer, purses, and shoes ).

“SCREECH!” Keisha slammed on her brakes and her car came to an abrupt halt. “ Jasmine do you see what I see?”

“ Yes ma’am! …Yes ma’am! I noticed that sign from way back there! She shouted.

“Are you thinking , what I’m thinking? Keisha‘s asked in a all to jubilant voice. Her honey colored skin tone, and brown eyes glistened with joy.

“Let’s do it!” They both spoke simultaneously.

Just as they made their way out of the car, Keisha’s cell phone rang…

“ Hey babe!” Keisha excitedly answered . You’ve landed?”

Tyrone exhausted from his long flight responded “Yes, we just landed… now heading to baggage claim. I can’t wait to see you Keisha! It’s been six weeks too long.” He spoke in his most sensual voice.

“Okay babe, Jasmine and I are just a few minutes from the airport. See you real soon!”

“Jasmine! that was Tyrone, we better head back to the car and get on over to the airport. His flight just landed.”

Jasmine already inside, where the garage sale was under way, was in the process of trying on a pair of Jimmy Choo silver six-inch heels. “ Okay Keisha it won’t take me but a minute to try these babies on!”

“ Girl! Those are gorgeous!” Keisha shouted! As Jasmine walked down the driveway and back, slinging her long, sister locks and sashaying as if she were a runway model.

“Jasmine your so crazy! you need to hurry up and buy those beauties before I do… “ Keisha laughed. Because we really have to make it to the airport.”

Again, the shoppers made it back to their car, and thankfully the GPS indicated the airport was only seven minutes away. As soon as they pulled up in the flight arrival section of the airport, Keisha called Tyrone.

“Hey Babe! Jasmine and I are here… I’m looking for you…I thought you would be done in baggage claim by now, and standing out here?”

“Hey Keisha! I was just getting ready to call. The baggage carousel broke down and they just announced that it should be back up and running in about 15 minutes, so you and Jasmine…just sit tight and I’ll be out as soon as I grab my bags.”

“No problem Babe, Jasmine and I will be right here when you come out.” Keisha now ecstatic responded cheerfully, while looking at Jasmine and giving her another high-five hand tap.

“WHEW!” Jasmine that was a close call” “But so much fun! “Jasmine chimed in.

“ Yes! Tyrone is going to be a bit delayed, due to the baggage carousel breaking down … I’m just so glad we made it in time!” Keisha chuckled. “Yes! I’m so glad we made it in time” Jasmine agreed.

My deadline stares back at me from my laptop screen. But my window keeps calling my name. Five hours until this essay is due, two thousand words. I can do this!

Four hours left and I still haven’t done more than a sentence, that’s okay I just need to knuckle down to get it done.

Three hours and just a paragraph, come on I’ve really got to get a move on now… maybe a short break.

Two hours later, I begin typing rapidly, my break having over extended itself.

One hour and I’ve only written half of my essay. I can’t do this. No! I can! I will! I chug my energy drink and get to work.

One minute left and I upload my assignment. I spin around in circles in my chair, breathing a sigh of relief when I hear a ping.

“Starting to think you weren’t going to make it. Good job Claire.” It was my lecturer. He must have stayed up to see if I’d be late meeting another deadline. Hah! I proved him wrong, I can do anything! But right this second my bed is calling my name.

Are you going to mow the lawn today?

Mow the lawn? Of course I’m going to mow the lawn why would you even ask me to mow the lawn when you know that I have all day to mow the lawn

But you are going to mow it today?

What did I just say to you? Of course im going to mow the lawn today

Why can’t you just tell me whether or not you’ll mow the lawn today?

Are you serious? How much more clear can I get that im seriously going to mow the lawn today

What are you doing then?

What does it matter what im doing?! I told you that I am going to mow the lawn today

“Hm?” Damien asked, Snapping back into reality. Arantaxa crossed her arms at his side. She recited the question she had asked, but yet again he was distracted. This time it wasn’t because of the beautiful sunrise, but her. Her white hair was braided into two French braids draped over her shoulders, small wisps flying in the wind. Her spectacular blue eyes shown in the early morning light.

“ARE YOU LISTENING?” She demanded, tapping a foot on the ground.

“What?” He asked, shaking his head. She made a frustrated sound. She tried a third time to ask her questions but again he spaced out. This time it was the trees and how they swayed in the breeze that caught his eye.

“You know what? NEVER MIND.”

(Some more of my Daughter of the Sea book stuff. I’m totally putting this in while their on the run🤣🤣)

As I sat down, it appeared as though someone was staring at me. This beautiful brown eyed, fluffy hair guy.

“Class, bring out your textbook”, the teacher said, as he looked around the room looking for anyone misbehaving.

This really cute guy was starring at me, but I had to be focused on this. We had a test in 2-3 days, and I can’t get a bad grade.

I looked back, as his brown eyes looked into my ocean blue eyes. I had been stuck, in a random situation with no way out.

Both things seemed like the right thing to do…. Right?? I don’t know, but if I get a bad score,it’s going to be bad.

Staring at my notebook and then my teacher, then back, trying to focus, he threw a scrambled up paper at me.

“What’s your name?” He wrote

“Olivia” I wrote back. I passed the message back.

Looking back at him, he stopped writing and looked at me.

What was he writing?

“Olivia is an exquisite name…. My names Lucas” he then wrote.

My thoughts spinning in every direction, yet I had no idea what to say.

I put it down, while I listened for a little longer.

The bell had rang, i had whispered “stay” to him.

He then sat back down, I finished the note.

I put my phone number down “927-632-555”, in hopes that he’d message me.

I passed it back, I waited to see his reaction. He winked at me.

• later that night-

I got the text from him….

“Hey it’s Lucas from class!” He wrote

“Hey! It’s Olivia.” I responded back

“I like your name, I was going to tell you, but we didn’t have a lot of time.” He wrote back

We talked a lot back and forth, he was such a nice person. And he had just moved to town.

Meeting him was like listening to a song for the first time and knowing it would be my favorite.

I just knew when i firsts met him we would hit it off. We had become close over the 1-2 hours we spent talking together.

I jumped on my bed, clutching my phone to my heart.

I felt like one of those girly girls, kicking there feet up blushing.

I felt like I found my person I would give my blue jolly ranchers to.

Engulfed in darkness, suddenly — so suddenly — surrounded by blinding, painful light.

“Wh-where am I?” stammered Juan, uttering his first words in over 7 weeks as he adjusted his eyes to the scene around him.

“You were in an accident, sir,” the man at his bedside clad in scrubs said calmly, “you hit your head pretty hard. What is the last thing you remember?”

“The last thing I remember. Hmmm…well I was up on the roof at my worksite, then I remember that something happened, but, honestly, I can’t remember what.”

Still barely able to see due to the array of LED light sources, Juan judged, by the white walls, tiled floors, and manner by which the man beside him was communicating, that he must be in the hospital. But why? He racked his brain for answers, but to no avail.

“Do you know what happened to me?” asked Juan, panic rising in his throat and obvious in his tone. Suddenly, the intercom started blaring.

Three deeply monotone beeps, spaced evenly, then: “Code Violet, code violet. All ICU staff to Room 508.”

This pronouncement was repeated, interspersed with the three deep tones, over an over and, before Juan had a chance to stop him, the man beside him was already gone. Juan could feel, quite clearly, adrenaline shooting through his body. It hit his heart, which began to beat faster and faster; overcome by his instincts, he made the choice to flee. This decision was made due to two factors: first, his emotions, total confusion, complete fear. Second, as an illegal immigrant employed as a cash-only worker, he had no insurance and, while he didn’t know precisely how long he’d been unconscious, he was sure it was long enough to rack up a bill significant enough to ruin him financially.

He slowly withdrew the IV from his left arm, wincing as the needle slid out from his vein. Frantically, he searched the room, looking for something, anything that would help him, anything to help trigger his fractured memory. He pulled out the drawers from his bedside cabinet, revealing three primary items. First, a Gideon Bible: “This won’t be of any help,”. Second, folded neatly in the second drawer, were his blood-stained street clothes: Arizona jeans, Hanes boxers, a Carhartt work shirt. He tossed aside his teal hospital gown, donning his own clothes. Suddenly, as he zipped up his pants, something hit him. Not a full memory, no, more of a fragment, a piece of something more, something important. He saw a hammer in his minds eye, clutched in a hand. His own hand? A coworkers? He was unsure. Why this was important was equally unclear.

Snapping back to reality, he continued on his escape mission. For a moment, he paused; he wiped the sweat from his brow then inhaled a deep breath. Before this certain second, he was too hopped up on adrenaline to notice his own fatigue. However, as he took a brief time to regulate his heartbeat, his legs nearly buckled and he noticed a pounding migraine emanating from the base of his skull.

But there was no time for pain, not here, not now: Juan pushed on, the silver-headed, wood-handled hammer haunting his thoughts as a phantom image. He peeked his head out from behind the curtains surrounding his bed and was relieved to see no hospital staff in sight. He hid his face, staring towards the skid-marked, light-grey floor tiles and pulled the curtain back into place behind him as he exited his room into the hallway beyond.

Precisely 7 rooms down said hallway was a hallucinating patient — a man standing 6-and-a-half feet off the floor and outweighing all but the security guards. Currently, he, three nurses (including Jake, the nurse tending to Juan 5 minutes prior), and four massive guards were engaged in an altercation that alternated between physical struggle, as they attempted to calm him with a tranquilizing agent, and verbal taunts, a.k.a. the giant shouting slurs and profanities at the demons he saw plainly before him.

Jake was relieved within another 5 minutes, utterly exhausted, but fully-aware of the patient he’d had to abandon. He rushed back to Juan’s room; all he found inside were the discarded gown, an open 5th floor window, and a sheet dangling from the window’s frame pointing straight down to the gravelly roof of the floor below. Of course, Jake feared the worst.

Nearly dropping his cell phone as his shaky hands dialed the hospital operator, Jake began to sweat profusely wondering if Juan had been hurt in the fall. The line connected after two rings: “LINDA,” shouted Jake, “CODE GREEN, CODE GREEN. Room 501 is gone!!!”

Juan smiled slyly to himself, hearing the announcement as the automatic sliding doors of the ER closed behind him.

“I bet the window thing bought me 10 minutes at least.”

Since arriving in the US, Juan had remained on the straight-and-narrow; here, he was a contributing member of society, paying his dues to his community, even paying his taxes. In Guatemala, his home, he was still far from a gangster. However, there were certain skills, a street-wise intelligence, he had picked up throughout his dangerous life there, with the simple goal of survival. One such skill was the ability to hot-wire certain models of car, specifically those popular during his teenage years in Guatemala.

Juan made his way — ever so calmly, despite the genuine fear coursing through him — to the parking garage, where he quickly and quietly identified an easy target.

“Sorry about this, whoever you are. I need this more than you do right now.”

The passenger door was left unlocked; Juan slid in and momentarily despised his behavior, knowing that the car’s owner would likely assume someone of his color had taken their property. Again, a flash of memory struck him.

The line, ‘Sorry about this,’ reverberated inside his fragmented head. This is another piece of the puzzle: he knew it immediately! The cars engine turned over — once, twice — then the motor groaned on.

It was a beater to say the least, “…but shit, it’ll get the job done.”

This time, more information came quickly. He was back on the rooftop as he slammed the car into reverse, in the blistering sun, along with the crew he had recently been promoted to lead.

“¡Dios mio! The promotion!” Juan exclaimed out loud, simultaneously pulling past the unguarded guard gate and chuckling at both the irony and his own luck. A wave of realization overtook him and, by the time he had turned onto the busy street outside, Juan had pieced together the entire memory.

The hammer, ‘Sorry about this…’, and his recent promotion: it was fucking David! David was the only white guy on the construction crew Juan had worked with for the past 7 years. They had both been hired the same exact week; both of them were hard workers, but were also entirely different socially. While Juan was liked and respected, David’s overt racism, general lack of hygiene, and cocky attitude turned most of the crew against him and, when management asked around regarding replacing the retiring foreman, given the choice between David and Juan, the answer was obvious.

Back on that hot spring afternoon, 7 weeks ago, it was Juan and David working hard into dusk hours to finish placing the shingles on their current build. Hammer in hand, David took advantage of the setting sunlight that made it impossible for Juan to see anything to his rear, snuck directly behind him and: “Sorry about this, Juan.”

Relief sank deep into Juan’s bones, relief that he now knew what had happened, relief he wasn’t dead, and — most of all — relief that, with management on his side once he filled them in on the details, he could finally be rid of David.

“Pinche vato…” was the final thought in Juan’s head as he drove into the sunset to finally set things right.

Tristan pulls open the ornate double doors and gazes into the throne room. With one leg on the arm rest, a half-man half-demon lounges a top the throne. Dressed in the darkest of black armor, his bloodlust eyes burn a bright red. On his right, Princess Gwen, is chained to the throne. Her ballgown is in near tatters and her matted with sweat and blood. She looks up wistfully as Tristan enters. “So, another has come to rescue the Princess. But you can’t have her. I made a deal with her father, riches beyond his belief, for her freedom. She’s mine now.” The half-demon stood as Tristan walked in and grabbed his two handed long sword that was resting on the other side of the throne. As Tristan strode closer his eyes gravitated towards the gem encrusted sword the half-demon held. “Where did you get that sword?” The half-demon seemed taken aback by the question. He paused for a moment before replying, “Actually my father gave it me on my 18th birthday.” “That’s a 4th century Elvin blade. It’s ore came from the forbidden mountains, the gems decorating it are magic crystals from the deepest of dwarves mines, and it was forged by the gods on the cloud altar,” Tristan said as he admired the blade. The half-demon leaned back, glanced at his sword, and asked, “how do you know so much about my blade?” “I’m a sword smith by trade and that is the finest blade I have ever seen.” Tristan’s eyes were glued to the craftsmanship before him. “Is it sharp?” The half-demon shrugged, “See for yourself,” he replied as his ran the blade clean through Tristan’s belly and out his back. Tristan looked down at the hilt protruding from his stomach. “Yes, that’s a very nice sword,” he gurgled as he slid off the sword and crumpled to the ground. The half-demon wiped the blood off the blade using the corpse that was Tristan’s cloak. He started to walk back to the throne glancing up at Princess Gwen. The Princess, incredulous at the scene that had just played out before her, looked towards Tristan’s life-less body, and angrily shrieked, “What the F-!”