WRITING OBSTACLE

Write a story that starts underwater and ends in a kitchen.

It can be in any genre you like as long as the story takes place in these two distinct settings.

Camp Ridgeview Pt. 2

My lungs are burning with in intense feeling, like I’m being lit on fire from the inside. My eyes closed tightly under the lake water as I kick my legs, reaching my arms up to break though the water’s surface. I need air. Now.


I gasp, rubbing my eyes with my fist as I adjust to the setting. A camp counselor is looking at me dead in the eyes, a frown on his face clear as day. β€œYou failed.” The only words he’s said to me other than β€œcan’t believe I got stuck with this one.” Which I’m pretty sure he was just muttering to himself.


It’s been two days since I arrived at camp Ridgeview, a wilderness camp for troubled teens- and I already hate it here.

The mages here? Crazy, complete psychopaths who I’m pretty sure are out to get me. Spiders in my cabin, dead rats left on my bunk daily, roommates who try to murder me with their freaky powers, and food poisoning.


Now, I have to pass test to given to me by my sour camp counselor, Roenβ€” a short redheaded, brown-eyed, telekineticβ€” just to earn supper. And failing? That means cleaning up after supper. A fate far worse than death. And now, because I couldn’t hold my breath underwater for twenty minutes, I get to help with that duty. Fun.


Roen smiledβ€” a crooked, evil smile, but a smileβ€” for the first time ever as he opened the broken, molding door with one hand, a paper with a big β€œF” written in bright red in the other. I walked into the foul smelling room, dusted floors, paint peeling off walls, dishes stacked high in a run downed sink, unidentifiable food splattered in every direction.


β€œWell, better get to work.” Roen chuckles at his comment before walking out of the room and tossing the paper into a empty trash can.

I look over at the sink, reaching for a not so gross looking plate stuck between two bowls filled with strange brown-green liquid.

Putting on pale yellow gloves full of holes, and grabbing a bottle of dish soap, I get to work.

One dish at a time.

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