The Final CWWC!!!

Notice the three exclamation points after the title. They’re there because I am using 25 prompts for this. I’m sweating just thinking about writing this. Just kidding. XD But seriously read this if you have about an hour to kill and a really good interpreter of what this story actually means. XD

 

 

It was an ordinary afternoon. Well ordinary for me anyway. For you writing your first novel while your dragon friend watches you may seem anything but normal. But for me, Sarah Faith, it is perfectly regular.

You see I began writing my story down last year when I had to leave my home for the very first time in my life. It was also the last time I would see my home. I hugged my brother goodbye in the dead of night. The day before though had been a terribly emotional day because I knew it was the last day I would be on earth. I sat in my school desk for hours after the final bell rang. No one stopped me. They just let me sit and think. Before long I was completely engulfed in my thoughts, but my brother rescued me out of them and brought me home for the last time.

My sisters were sitting on the stairs waiting for me. They had lonesome looks on their faces, but none of them said a word. One by one they all gave me a hug and then slowly I picked up the mirror. You see mirrors are passages to fantastic worlds guarded by creatures called The Ferrymen. If the Ferryman inside the mirror allows you you can pass through to the next world.

In a matter of seconds a Ferrymans face appeared. He had a long nose and grey looking skin.

“Hello. I’m Dawn. And you are…” He said sounding quite annoyed.

“Sarah Faith.”

“State your reason for wanting to enter the land of the Faeries.”

“I…uh… It’s sort of private.” I stammered. I should of expected them to ask this, but I had no response prepared.

I can’t help you.” He said rudely. Then the mirror went black. I called out his name in the silence. Like he would actually hear, like he would actually care. 

My only chance of traveling to the world was gone. It seemed all hope was lost, but suddenly another face flickered onto the mirror. She had shimmering blue eyes and silky looking hair and  in her hands shone tiny glowing butterflies. A faerie. A real life faerie. My mouth opened in surprise and then I was sucked into the mirror.

I landed a second later, after feeling like all of my body had been torn apart and then resembled, with a loud thump right in the middle of a stream. All my clothes were sopping wet and my hair felt heavy and disgusting.  

But I needed to hurry. Follow the stream they told me. I could worry about the beautiful Faerie girl and why she brought me here later. Step after step my legs became more and more tired, but I had to get to the lake of stars. That’s where I needed to go to find my friends.

Not all haunted places are houses, you know. That’s what I told myself as I walked through the forest filled with thick trees. I swore I saw smoky white figures walking around when it got dark. But I just kept walking. My clothes eventually dried, but the longer I walked the more hungry I got. Slowly fatigue was pulling me down. I needed rest. I need a place to stay. Finally after hours of walking I found an empty village. It was like a ghost town. I saw no one. But I need a place to stay and this was my best bet. So I found a small house and slid open the door, reviling lock after lock broken open. What it said on the back of the door left me puzzled. Scratched in the rotting wood was: The worlds not safe anymore. 

After a few deep breaths I continued into the house. In the tiny kitchen I found cans of soup and opened them gratefully. I dared not look at the expiration date. It filled my empty stomach and that’s all that mattered. Slowly I wandered the house the next morning after I’d slept on the bare floor. All I found in the empty bedroom was a box. Bad memories. Do not open. It said.. I couldn’t help myself. I opened it. I mean as soon as someone says don’t do something it’s almost impossible not to do it.

Inside were a stack of letters and old black and white photographs. One photo was of a girl with fire in her hand she looked happy and seemed to be dancing in the dark.  I found an old worn out newspaper clipping. It was all about how a little girl had gone missing in the forest. A shiver ran up my spine. Next I took a look at one of the letters. All it said was:

No one comes back after they stray past the border. What lies beyond is unknown. It is cunning. It is brave, it’s brutal, it’s relentless, and it’s hunting us. You have been warned 

I ran out of the house after that. Running away from the dead village. Whatever happened there was bad and I wanted to be as far away from it as possible. What I didn’t know was someone was watching me the entire time. They were dressed entirely in black and had a long bow ready to fire. They even watched me open the forbidden box.

But I kept running oblivious to everything around me. I ran through a grave yard with train tracks underneath my feet and watched a married couple weep over a grave that was marked with disturbing words. The grave read: here lies a man who was not of this earth. I ran harder my lantern and hair swinging wildly.

But eventually after a week of hard days and dark nights I came to where I need to be the shimmering lake of stars and in it’s shinning waters stood my friends. I tried to run out to them, but every time I moved closer they seemed to move farther away. As I kept moving their white dresses became more and more wet. The didn’t look at me. They didn’t see me. It was like they were in another world. Soon they were almost completely underwater and if I moved any closer they might drown. Slowly I started to cry. What else could I do? I would never reach my friends alive. I had no choice but to leave them.

My tears fell and mixed with the sparkling water. I didn’t know where to go after that. I was left feeling empty inside. I had nothing. No where to go, nothing to do. I just wandered around and around endlessly. Eating when I could, holding my stomach in hunger when I couldn’t.

One fateful day I found a place in the forest I had never been before. It had a sign. A sign saying just what I needed to hear. Here Be Faeries. Maybe I could make a home here. But just then a tiny blue winged faerie fluttered in front of me. I recognized her immediately. It was the faerie from the mirror.

“Who are you and why did you help me?” I asked softly, as if I spoke to loud she might run away.

You know who I am.” She whispered and then flew away off into the tree.

“No come back, please help me!” I yelled after her.

“You don’t need me. Remember this: She needed a hero so that’s what she became.”

I yelled at her with all my anger to come back, but she didn’t come back. Once again I was alone in the world.

And that’s as far as I’ve written in the story of my life. The rest is too painful to even put into words. Slowly I climb onto my dragon friends back and we take flight. Flying to where I now call home. There I can relax and be myself. I can forget about the box of bad memories, and stop reliving the past. I can just stare at the bottles filled with colorful sand for hour and hours and let my worries escape me. I’ve collected the sand from every place of visited. Forty bottles in total. But the one I love and cherish the most is the least colorful one. The one filled with boring beachy sand. The one from earth. I hug it close to me every night before I go to sleep and sometimes I can imagine that I’m back home in my own room, in my own house, with all my sibling close by. Sometimes I just feel the cool  heavy glass pressed against my skin, like the weight of reality pulling me down.


 

Gaaaahhh! XD I can’t believe I used that many prompts. I kind of traded quality for quantity though, it’s not my best piece of writing. :/  Oh well. 🙂

-Anna

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CWWC 2016: CHALLENGE #8

 

I don’t belong here. That’s what my grandmother told me when my father died. His grave was an unfriendly hard slab of rock, his name was not even carved in the stone. All it said was: Here lies a man who was not of this earth. I never understood why it said that. It kept up late at night wondering why anyone would want that on their grave. But my father insisted before he died that that would be what it said and nobody says no to adying mans wish. So my father lies six feet under with a heavy and confusing stone directly above his head.

My grandmother explained things very simply to me three months later.

“You see Abigal. The truth is on the stone. You, your father, and I are not from this earth.” I just watched and listened as she leaned over the edge of the roof and inhaled deeply. The air was more fresh up here, the moon and the stars seemed brighter, and she felt free.

“Let me show you something.” I followed her back down the staircase to our roof. My grandmother had a strict no questions asked policy so I remained silent as we entered her bedroom. On the wall were heavy looking glass bottles filled with different colored sands. I stared in awe, but as I looked closer I saw the contents of the bottle shift ever so slightly. I couldn’t help myself and questioned her quietly,

“What are they?”

She look ed at me sternly but answered “Entrances to other worlds. I’ve collected them over the years. This one,” She said as she picked up a glass jar filled with green sand.

“is where we are from. Your father was not allowed back and I wouldn’t leave him in this retched world, but now that he is… gone, we can go back and live a normal life.”

A normal life? How is any of this normal I asked myself. I peered at my grandmother. She had a crazed look on her face. I didn’t want to leave earth and so that night I crept into my grandmothers room and grasped the small jar in my hands. We were going to make our escape tomorrow morning. But I would never leave. I took the jar and ran away into the street, but my foot caught and suddenly in slow motion I fell with the jar in my hands and watched it shatter all around me. The sand flew up in billows and engulfed me and suddenly I wasn’t in my quiet neighborhood street anymore. I was lying on the ground in a forest. Alone.

I looked at a tree nearby and scratched on the bark was a bone chilling message.

Not all haunted places are houses.

I screamed. But I was far far away from anything I had every know.

“Here lies a girl who was not from this world.”  I whisper.

 

 

Thanks for reading 😀

-Anna

 

CWWC 2016: CHALLENGE #6

Hi! I injured my finger so if there’s any grammar mistakes I blame it on typing with one hand 🙂 .

Her bow was loaded, her mind racing. Moving in broad daylight, her stupidest idea yet. But she pressed on. This was what she had trained for.

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Just the day before a girl around the same age was out in the dead of night. In hiding also. They told her not to play with fire, but she did.She was mystified by the enchanting flames. She would dance around while the rest of her village slept. :  They told her to let others rescue her when she needed help. But she needed a hero, so that’s what she became.  :

The two girls paths were destined to cross very soon. The girl of day and the girl of night.

The girl of day with her bow in hand was ready to get back the box that was stolen from her  father long ago. It held scraps and pieces of the past that her family would rather forget and it sat buried in the middle of the village. The only one who knew it was her family, but if anyone ever found it and opened it a giant scandal of their family would erupt. So she was sent to retrieve the box and then burn it.

She had made it past the guards that surrounded and protected the community and all was silent inside. She made her way to the center, stowed her bow and began to dig. Bit by bit she uncovered the soil. Until finally she struck a soft object in the dirt. A box labeled BAD MEMORIES DO NOT OPEN.Writing prompt:

Naturally she opened it out of curiosity, even though she had gotten strict orders to burn it right away. But she couldn’t help herself. She leafed through the old documents one by one, while tiny tears rolled down her cheek. Slamming the box shut she grabbed her matches and made her way back to the path which she had come. Then she waited for the sun to set.

The girl of night was also waiting for the sun to set. Back in her quiet home in the village she sat and watched. Finally after what seemed an eternity the sun plunked out of sight. So the girl crept out of bed to her favorite place to dance with the flames. But on her way she noticed another fire off in the distance. She could almost hear the sound of someone weeping. She moved closer and closer until finally the back of the person with the fire was in view.

The girl of day turned around and was shocked to see a small girl staring back at her.

The other girl gasped “Who are you?”

“You know who I am.” The girl of day stated and lifted off her hood.

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“You’re the princess.” She answered breathlessly.

“Yes.”

Suddenly more noises came from the bush and a guard appeared his eyes widening when he realized what he’d seen. She called out his name in the silence. Like he’d actually hear, like he’d actually care.  : He ran back to the village to alert the others. When the girl of night looked back all she saw was darkness. The fire was gone and so was the princess.

 

-Anna

CWWC 2016: CHALLENGE #5

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The worlds not safe anymore. Scratched into our once friendly front door. It use to have a welcome mat. Now it has and unforgettable message. My mother wrote that. Just before her and my father went out to look for our sister. The one who ran away. She had always been different from the rest of us. She didn’t care that the world was ending outside the safe walls of our home. She wanted to be outside, fighting, and helping the people who couldn’t help themselves. My parents explained to her that there was know way to help. That it was over. She was older than us so my parents told her the truth bluntly. The world was ending. But we listened and eavesdropped and heard the worst. She ran out the next morning and all we could do was watch her run along the stone path her hair flying in her face. She needed a hero so that’s what she became.

My parents packed supplies and then went out after her. But just before my mother left she implanted the message in the door to remind us. She said she would be back soon. That she would be home with Max, our sister. But as we watched from the window we saw them running and then suddenly they fell to the ground broken glass all around their motionless bodies. I shut the blind. They weren’t coming back. No one ever comes back if they stray past the border. What lies beyond the border of these walls is unknown to us. My sisters and I still had food to feed us for years to come down in the basement. I knew though, it wouldn’t be enough. We started eating less and less. Our days seemed to last eternities inside that house. We would sit on the staircase and just watch the door. Fear and boredom together in a dangerous mix. Some nights we would just cry together. Cry for what we’ve lost.

One fateful night that I will never forget came quickly after our parents were gone. A small dirty note slipped under our door. All it said was:

It is cunning, it is brave, it is brutal, it is relentless and it is hunting us.

I wrapped my sisters in my arms. Whoever it was from was out there. Beyond the border and somehow still living. We needed to know the truth. We were told never open the curtains all the way. But desperate times had blurred our sense of obedience. My youngest sister wrote on the back of the note: Who is hunting us? Who are you?

She slipped it under the door and we sat and watched out the window to see if the stranger who left the note would come back. We waited and waited until it was late at night. Barely able to see out the front window I looked for something, anything that could be human. My sisters were both asleep beside me, unable to stay up any longer. But I was still wide awake. I needed to know what was out there. And then a few minutes after the clock chimed midnight. I saw the faint outline of a figure creeping up our front steps. I shut the curtain and quickly woke up my sisters. We raced to the door, as quite as mice and soundlessly undid all the latches on the door one by one. Our hands were nimble and we finished quickly, but by the time we ripped open the door a bone chilling breeze swept into the house. My teeth rattled. We watched as the small figure ran off past the border and disappeared. My sister called out them in the silence like they would actually hear, like they would actually care.

A note flew past my ear and I caught it as it began its descend to the ground. It read: The Gators. Th Gators are hunting us. I grabbed my sisters back and shut the door as quickly as I could. Latching and re-shutting all the bolts. The worlds not safe anymore. Now I know why.


 

Ok I had no idea what to call whatever was hunting them so I just thought of a random word. XD Which just happened to be Gators which does not have any association with alligators in case you were wondering. XD Anyway I hope you enjoyed. 🙂 Have a great day. 🙂

-Anna

CWWC 2016: CHALLENGE #4

Hi! I missed that last challenge so I am trying to make up for it with this one. This may be a little crazy, but I’m going to try and see what happens 🙂 .

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“Come closer,” she whispered. “The butterflies have all manner of things to show you…”:

 

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A girl is running deep in the worst sand storm that was ever recorded in the history of Wilderia. She runs for her life and the life of the tiny Faerie whose tugging on her shoulder. She runs through a grave yard, and then an abandoned village. The only thing keeping her tired legs going is the echoing words of the Faerie ringing in her ears: It’s cunning, it’s brave, it’s relentless, and it’s hunting us.

She repeats it over and over. But the words sound hallow even to her. They can never quite sink in. The it is not something you want to be hunted by. It’s the kind of thing that keeps young children up at night. Watching and waiting for it’s possible arrival. For most it never comes. The stretched white shadows that move like the wind and come for you from the forest when you’re asleep. But this girl is not like the other children of her far away village. She has Faerie blood. The kids believe that the snow white creatures are good. That they come to free the little children, that they want to help them. But This girl knows better. She knows what they really come for. They come to kill. 

And so she runs far away from the town where she was born and grew up. She runs to the land of the Faeries. The land of her ancestors. And after a tiering night and being whipped about by the tiny dust particles she sees the sign. It reads: Here Be Faeries.

She has arrived. Suddenly the little Faerie on her should takes of. It’s tiny wings zip by, and two tiny  glowing blue butterflies follow.

“Wait!” She quickly calls out the tiny Faerie’s name in the silence, like she would actually hear, like she would actually care. The Faerie’s concern was no longer needed. Her duty to keep the girl safe was done. But the Faerie did not know that the girls troubles were far from over.

 

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! If you liked it please leave me a comment. 🙂

-Anna

CWWC 2016: CHALLENGE #2

Here’s my second entry! 🙂

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Writing prompt:

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The school bell rings and the classroom and all my peers leave the room, but I stay seated in the small classroom. Mrs. Johnson asked me to stay after class. Again.

She walks over to me. A small pitying smile plays on her pale pink lips.

“Listen, August. Your grades are slipping again. Have you been going to your tutoring lessons?” She asks sighing.

“Of course.” I say quietly.

“Well your math scores are getting worse and worse. I have a free night next Monday. If you want we can go over your test, make some corrections, and bump up your mark.”

“Thank you.”

“Ok you can go. Have a good evening.”
“You too.” I mumble and slink out of the empty classroom with bare walls and dull desks. This place feels like a prison to me. Get up. Go to school. Come home. Try to get homework done. Go to bed. A never ending mediocre routine everyday. I rush out of the school dropping my books off at my locker and quickly picking up a note that fell out. My English homework assignment that was due 3 months ago. They told me to write down all the things that describe who I am. I came up with nothing. I just don’t really know who I am. It’s not that easy for me.

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I sit on my bed and stare at it. The box of bad memories. I put the old English assignment on my bed and write down one word: Lonely. That’s what am. I’m lonely. Then the rest just come pouring out of me.

Confused, angry, sad, out of control, dumb.

I write down dumb smashing the pencil into the paper and breaking the lead. I start to cry. It’s not easy for me to let out feelings either. Nothings ever easy for me.

I keep all the bad moments in this box. A box of hate, shame, and hurt. But I won’t let it slowly drag me down anymore. I’m still young. I can turn my life around. I can be more than just a dumb, out of control, mess. I shove the assignment into the box, duct tape the lid on tight and grab it in my arms cradling it to my chest. I run outside and into my backyard, grabbing a box of matches on my way out. I start at the old worn cardboard box corner and light it up.

This is no longer a part of me. This is not who I am. I’m better than this. I watch as the cardboard turns black. I watch the insides turn to dust and I just stand and stare at it. All the years of bad memories bottled up let go free into the sky. I was waiting for somebody to tell me to end my bad feelings, but all along I knew nobody was coming. I needed a hero. But I denied it. Now I’ll be my own hero. This box is the end of something terrible and the start of something great. I slowly make my way back to my room and get another piece of lined paper and write down just one simple word:

Hero.

Thanks for reading! That was kind of dark, but at least it has a happyish ending :). Comment what you thought.

-Anna

P.S. Go team half blood!!  😉

 

 

CWWC 2016: CHALLENGE ONE

Hi! Here’s my very first entry for CWWC!! Yay! 😀  Go team Half Blood! 🙂

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#writing #prompt:

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The bus rumbles slowly to a stop in front of me and I climb on side by side the other strange passengers. Slowly I make my way to the back of the bus and sit cross legged in the crammed city bus. Body sweat odor and perfumes mix into a choking scent from unusual beings. I close my eyes and try to block out the honking of horns, and the disgusting smells. But resting does not comfort me either. Images of the place I’m from, the place I belong, come to mind. Me and my lovely Swift. I can hardly bare to think about him. It just hurts to much. My heart aches for a ride on my beautiful dragon’s back and the feeling of rushing through the open sky.

I open my eyes. I try not to think about it, it just happens. Like a bad memory you want to forget, but you can’t. Except this is a good memory. Sometimes good memories hurt the most. I look over at the person across from me in the other row and I see it. The mirror. It shines its mystical light apon me and I lunge for it griping it out of the young woman’s hands. She screeches at me to stop, but it’s to late. The bus arrives at its first stop and I hurry off. She chases after me yelling for me to stop. But I will never stop. Never stop trying to get back to where I belong.

You see mirrors are actually passages to a fantastic world. A world filled with dragons, like Swift, and magic. Oh the magic. You wouldn’t believe what I have seen. But the world is guarded by creatures called Ferrymen and they don’t especially like outsiders to come in. But I’m not an outsider. I’ve been locked out of the world which I hold so dearly to my heart and the only way to get back is through a mirror. The Ferrymen are tricky though. If you want to get to the world they hide the mirrors from you. But if you don’t want to leave this world you can see mirrors all over. But for the ones who want to leave might only see a mirror once in a decade or longer. They occasionally miss a mirror though and you see a mirror. This is my one chance. My one hope to get back.

I keep sprinting. I need to get to a safe place to return home. I bubble with excitement. This is my hope. My chance. But I don’t see it coming. A block on the side walk. An innocent crack foils my escape. I trip and the small chance I had slips out of my fingers and cracks on the grey cement. My chance. My hope. Gone. Broken. I just lay on the ground with scraped knees, and arms and watch the shiny silver pieces shimmer and then disappear.

 

Wow that was long. If you read that all congratulations. XD Comment your thoughts. Constructive criticism is welcome.

-Anna