Writing Prompt

“Hey Cooper, look at this,” Gale waved a newspaper in my face. I stared confused at first, but when I read the headline I started to chuckle. It was about me again. When I was in the paper, it was never a good thing but it always made me laugh because they always got their stories so blatantly wrong. ‘Local teen knocks down office’: I was having a bad day and destroyed a few supports whilst I was passing by. ‘_Infamous teen tries to drain a lake’: _what on earth was that about, I took, like, 5 buckets of water from a 2km long lake. You get the idea. But I think this one of one of the best, definitely wall worthy — ‘Troublemaker teen Cooper attempts to steal 24k necklace’. I _picked _it up! Honestly, you commit 5 (maybe 6, or 7, or 11, who knows) MINOR crimes in a small town and suddenly whenever you take interest in a valuable object, you are trying to steal it! It’s priceless! (Get it? Priceless? That was terrible I apologise)

Gale themselves had made a few headlines, but I give myself most of the credit. They usually earn it for being my accomplice. ‘_New teenage criminal in town - Charlotte - working with Cooper?’ _Firstly, their name isn’t Charlotte anymore, it’s Gale. And secondly, new? They’ve been in the business way longer than me, they taught me most of what I know! (Excluding stealthiness, I like having the spotlight). We usually pinned our best headlines to a cork board in our bedroom, showing off our trophies.

Vivienne retrieves yesterday's newspaper from her skirt's pocket, sprawling herself on the tattered divan. She unfolds it, dispelling lingering dust, and spreads it on her lap to read the news from the day before.

          𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐩

  - - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗛𝗔𝗦 𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗡 𝗧𝗪𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗚 𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗦 𝗤𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗘𝗟: 𝗔 𝗕𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗔𝗚𝗘𝗦!

𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯. 𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘘𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯-𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘭𝘥-𝘝𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦 𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯-𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳-𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘯 𝘉𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘥𝘰𝘮, 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘝𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘈𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥, 𝘙𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘯 𝘉𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘈𝘯 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘉𝘳𝘺𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘤𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘺. 𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘻𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘝𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦 𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘙𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳. 𝘏𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯'𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘥𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘭𝘦? 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦? 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘶𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦! 𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘢'𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘥𝘰𝘮. 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘺! 𝘔𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵!

Vivienne's hands tremble as the newspaper settles on the table.

"How did they discover?" She murmurs to herself, her heart racing.

For an entire year, she's concealed her talents, her powers, everything. But the queen—somehow, the queen found out.

An abrupt knock sounds from the door. Vivienne open it, and is confronted by half a dozen royal guards. Its to late.

Being the Grand Mage sounds like the greatest privilege. And it does deliver on that promise, if your not the once to die trying to get it.

Then theres Rowan. He is someone Vivienne does not believe she can ever beat. After all, he did teach her everything she knows.

“Are Rosalind Preston and Christopher Neel headed for a messy breakup?” Rosalind scoffs at the headline and throws the paper in the trash. “Chris will have a cow if he reads that garbage, that’s for sure.” She mutters to herself as she pulls out her phone and dials her agent. Her foot tapping anxiously as she waits for him to pick up. Click. “Yellow!” He says calmly, as if Rosalind and Christopher’s relationship hasn’t just been dubbed “most likely to fail.” “Russell! What’s this about me and Chris breaking up?!” She says while trying to keep her voice down so Chris wouldn’t hear. Rosalind hears a sigh on the other end. “O-O-Oh. That. Well I don’t know what to tell ya Rosie! The paps and the tabloids haven’t seen y’all together and the people want to know. It’s business Rosie you know that.” She rolls her eyes and sits down on the arm of her couch. “Book a public appearance for us.” She says while kicking herself. “You got it tootsie.” She angrily hangs up the phone and drops it onto the couch. “I just wanted a weekend getaway for goodness sake’s,” She says while going to tell Christopher about their public appearance. The price of fame is a hefty one, and it oft isn’t worth the price.

“Extra! Extra! Town Cryer’s latest! Read all about it! Rare Crystal Emerges from the Henessen Family!”

Emily stopped dead in her tracks as she heard the raspy man’s voice call out the latest headlines from his newspaper stand. How did it get out? Who would have shared the secret? How could they?

She backtracked, grabbed a paper, and placed a few coins into the man’s hand. “Keep the change.” she murmured as she turned away and looked down at the paper she’d just bought.

She heard the man thank her somewhere in the distance as the words on the page drowned out the bustling world around her.

Someone had talked. They knew about the Crystal. And that meant danger. For everyone involved.

She quickened her step, her heels clacking on the paved slabs as she made her way to the family home, a large institutional looking building at the end of the busy road. People had already begun to congregate around their grand, old, entryway; reporters waving their notebooks, and curious onlookers stopping for a possible peek at the headline sensation.

—-

Emily strode into the dining room and slapped the newspaper down on the table in front of Humphrey, who had been scrawling mathematical equations in his notebook. “Do you mind?” he said with a drawl, “I’m working here. You can’t…”

Humphrey’s voice trailed off as he finally saw the huge bold letters that headlined the Town Cryer. “Oh…”

“Yes! Oh!” Emily snapped, pacing up and down beside the vast mahogany dining room table that eclipsed the room in all its grandeur. “What do we do now? How do we enforce safety procedures when the entire realm now knows there’s a Crystal in their midst?”

Humphrey put his pen down and sat back, both hands splayed on the table on either side of the newspaper. “I don’t understand. Who would have broken the bond? It makes no sense for anyone to do that...”

“Well, they did.” Emily said, folding her arms, her eyes smarting from the tears that had begun to water her eyes.

Humphrey pulled the newspaper towards him and began to scan the article. “Sources… they say sources. More than one?”

“Maybe. Possibly to cover their tracks. Who knows?” she said, walking over and peering at the newspaper from over his shoulder.

“Maybe we can track the reporter down. Get them to reveal who they were.”

“Nevermind that! What about the fact that the whole world knows that there’s another Crystal?” Emily said, exasperation in her voice as she sat down on the nearby chair with a thud. “How do we protect…”

“Is anything the matter?”

Both Emily and Humphrey stopped short as they heard the little, soft voice of the child behind him. Humphrey carefully moved his notebook over the newspaper to cover the headline. “Oh nothing, sweetheart, just me and Aunty Emily quarrelling as usual. You know how it is.” he said with a gentle smile, as he held out his hand towards the blonde child with pigtails that stood in the doorway. “We never see eye to eye, do we? Come, sit.”

And as the little girl trundled in, holding her cuddly rabbit by a single floppy ear as its body dragged on the floor, the two of them looked on in wonder, their hearts swelling as this jewel of a child graced them with her beautiful presence. The Crystal. The one they held dear, and for whom they would fight the entire world if need be, to keep her safe.

Boring… boring… not funny… ah, I see they finally caught on about last night. Last night was quite exciting, the pools of blood that dripped onto the floor was absolutely stunning, the way it shimmered a dark red in the light. The only thing I don’t love about this article is that they didn’t capture the actual scene, instead it’s just some boring police chief. I don’t get why he’s getting all the glory when all he didn’t do anything! Oh well, maybe tonight I’ll get my picture put in the article. Speaking of, where did I put my knife…

I could not stomach looking at it, and yet still, I could not look away from it. I could only stare and cringe with horror.

“Jonathan Weekes, Dead at 39.”

“It was a joke,” I said to myself the first second I read it. I had many enemies, I remembered, and this is just the kind of thing Joey or Mr. Knight would do. Mr. Knight loved a good laugh, and he was the kind of man intimidating enough to gain just about anything he wanted- all he had to do was fix that menacing stare of his on it.

I looked at the headline again, and for some reason I can’t fathom, it changed. The words didn’t change, neither did the “Brooklyn Times” logo printed neatly in the middle of the page change- and yet, it felt different.

Suppose this wasn’t a joke, I allowed myself to think. This thought came across a few times, but just as quick as I thought it was just as quick as I sent another thought to contradict it. I allowed myself to believe both thoughts at the same time- and it was only for so long that my brain could manage it.

Now, all I, Jonathan Weekes, did was stare at the headline with pure horror.

It was an unusually hot Monday on this summer’s June day. The heat hugged every fabric tightly to his body. Leaning his head out over the picnic table, he noticed the line of guys that looked far bigger than Mark - clear skin, straight teeth, muscles that bulged out from underneath their t-shirts. He could feel his anxiety, along with his acne, becoming more prevalent.

Peering back down at rich, double crusted blueberry pie, he licked my chapped lips in anticipation. Truthfully, he didn’t like blueberry pie. But this wasn’t just about him.

Brad Thurston, The announcer, was a bald-headed gentleman, who reminded him of of one of his uncles.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome! I am pleased to announce the celebration of this year’s pie eating contest!” Clearing his throat, Brad extended his arm in the direction of the picnic tables. “The thirteen of you have been selectively chosen to participate in this yearly competition. The rules are simple.”

Running his hand over my the patriotic checkered tablecloth, Mark watched the classmate siting to his left keep his hands firmly on each side of his pie platter. It reminded him of how a caveman might protect his latest kill. Sweat trickled down his neck, offering his freshly forming sunburn only one simple droplet of relief.

“…Now, on your marks….get set….EAT!” The announcer’s double chin jiggled as he laughed, watching all of the boys submerge their faces into the blueberry sauce.

Rushing in, his nose slammed up against the pie’s tin. There was too much on the line. All summer he’d begged his parents for an unlimited pass to this year’s county fair. The unlimited pass meant free rides all summer long. His parents refused, telling him it was far too foolish to spend such hard-earned money on something as frivolous as county fair rides that would only be here for three months. Seeing as how he didn’t have his driver’s license, or a job, this was his only lifeline, if he had any hope for at least a decent summer.

The winner of this contest would receive himself not only one premium unlimited passes, but two, for the entire summer. Remembering Sierra, he honed in on his inner teenage male appetite, swallowing mouthfuls of pie. Half of the blueberries went un-chewed, while some managed to get stuck in his nostrils. Snorting them down, he pressed onward. He’d puke up blueberries for the rest of the night if it meant it was his name being revealed as the ultimate winner.

“30 seconds folks! C’mon boys!” Cheers and screams erupted from the crowd! We were a small town, and it appeared that at least half of the folks all came out for this competition.

“C’mon Mark! You’re almost there!” The rest of the crowd’s screams faded, as Sierra’s became clearer. A final determination took over. He remembered why I’d volunteered himself as a contestant. The first summer with his first girlfriend. They may have only been freshman in high school, far too young to know if they’d ever see each other after their high school careers ended, but he was optimistic for what future they might cultivate together.

“Time’s up gentlemen! Heads up!” He could hardly see anything through the syrup that kept his eyelashes pressed into clumps. Glancing down, he noticed the gigantic circle of tin reflecting in the sunlight. That felt promising.

As the judge made his way down the length of the table, 2 boys leaned over the edge of the bench to throw up in the grass. Gradually, he reached the full length of the table, before making his way back up the three steps to his podium. His voice was thunderous.

“Alright, gents! We have a winner! Now, y’all know the rules! You keep your eyes on this week’s newspaper. The winner will be revealed then!” Reaching for a handkerchief from his back pocket, he wiped at his brow.

Wednesday morning, as he ate his cereal, he read through the newspaper, scanning as quickly as he could for the announcement of the winner, pausing momentarily when he saw the photo that’d been snapped of the group all while they were in mid-eating. Scanning the first paragraph,

“…though it was a very close competition this year, one gentlemen’s eating ability seemed to topple his competition….” his finger froze when he read the winner’s name.

Marcus Whitman.

Reaching for his phone, he saw a text from Sierra. “Did you see it yet?”

Texting back, he wrote, “Summer just got a million times better.”

“Local university student found dead in his apartment.”

I close the newspaper and sigh. “This is so embarrassing. How could I have let this happen to me?”I take the last sip of coffee from my mug and make my way up to my bedroom.

I was so excited about going to a concert with my friends this Friday, but this dead thing messed up our plans. “I was so excited too,” I say while crouching down to touch the red stains in my carpet.

Police tape litters my room mapping out one red stain to another, joining together at my bed. My once white sheets are stained red, and no one has been hired to clean up this mess.

My best friend, Joan, is packing all my things into boxes. She’s crying and keeps glancing at my bed. “Joan,” I whisper while touching her shoulder but she doesn’t notice me.

“This ghost thing is really embarrassing,” I sigh.

Part 2 of Found Dead

My hands shook How was I dead? I couldn’t be! I was here! Reading the newspaper! But it said it right there in big bold letters With a picture of my burned body.

“Mom?” I said, My voice a hushed whisper. My mom made her way over to me. She wrapped her arms around me and sobbed. I cried with her.

At school everyone stayed away from me. Even my friends. It was like I was contagious. It was like being undead was contagious.

Zombie Boy. Ghost Kid. Back from the dead. Skeleton Man. All these names were given to me.

Everyone asked me what had happened. How was I alive, They asked. I would shrug. I had no idea.

I think there were side effects from coming back. My skin became leathery and thin. My cheeks became sunken. My eyes were empty of emotion. I was freakishly thin. Yet I didn’t die again. My new appearance encouraged the teasing.

Zombie Boy. Ghost Kid. Back from the dead. Skeleton Man. All these names. They were accurate.

People wave to me as I pass I’m a star A famous singer

The headlines say Star is Born

Like it was always ment to be I shine

Am noticed People talk to me

People like me They laugh at my jokes Even if they suck Talk to me willingly

I love it The sun shine through the blinds I wake up

It was all a dream I suck I always have Always will I will never be a star