Writing Prompt

From Téa: You meet the cutest little boy; what does he look like and what happens when you introduce yourself?

Write for 10 minutes. Post your piece to comments.

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Posted on January 6, 2015, in Writing Prompt. Bookmark the permalink. 14 Comments.

  1. Taking my 7 year old little sister to the park was not the best way I could be using my summer break. But, it was inevitable, and I knew it the third day of summer vacation. Mom informed me of when, where, and how often I’d be taking her. I swear, it was like a schedule.
    Today, we were to go from 1 until 3. The worst. Two hours. Of. My. Life. EVER!
    “Sammy! Come here, Sammy!” Kenzie screamed. Irritated and hot, I stood up and pouted my way over to the swing-set.
    “What?”
    “Look at that boy, isn’t he weird?”
    “Kenzie, that’s not nice.”
    “But he’s so ugly. He has purple spots and lot’s of scratches. He looks like a dog got a hold of ’em.”
    Wait, what? I asked myself. “Kenzie, show me where he is.” I demanded.
    She pointed. “Over there.” She said, snobbishly.
    Sitting on one piece of the playground equipment was a small boy that looked as if he were 5 or 6. I walked over. He stood up and put on a face that looked like I were going to knock his brains out.
    “Hi.” I said.
    He hesitated. I patiently waited for an answer as we just looked at each other.
    When I sat down next to where his tiny feet stood, he slowly did the same, staring at me in the process.
    “My name is Lilly. Do you wanna tell me yours?”
    He still said nothing. Sitting next to him, I could see clearly. My heart beat so fast and so loud I could hear it in my ears and feel it in my throat.
    Scars. Blood. Scratches. Purple. Blue. Yellow. Bruises. Bruises all over his body. Most parents would try to hide what they do to their children with pants, boots, long-sleeved shirts, and hoodies. Not these parents. It was summer, so the boy was wearing knee-length shorts and a t-shirt. Every inch of this boy’s body was covered in scars.
    I was trying to figure our what to do when he finally spoke, interrupting my thoughts.
    “Aiden.”
    “Aiden? Is that your name?”
    He nodded. I lifted my hand to point to a bruise on his knee cap and he flinched, covering his face.
    A lump in my throat grew to the size of watermelon and my cheeks felt hot.
    “Aiden, I wasn’t going to hurt you. I just want to know what this is.” I pointed to his purple and blue bruise.
    He dropped his hands and started shaking his head. “Um, um, uh, it’s, um, I feel, um, down the, uh, slide.” He stuttered so bad. That is a bad sign of physical and mental abuse.
    I think I was crying a little.
    “Aiden, do you wanna come on a play date with my sister, Kenzie? Our house is just over there.”
    I figured his parents weren’t here because there were only a few anyways, and they all looked so nice with babies wrapped tightly in their arms.
    “Mmmhmm.” He nodded.
    I took Aiden and Kenzie home, Kenzie being a bigger brat than ever with rude comments and snide remarks about Aiden.
    I walked in the front door and momma just stopped dead in her tracks.
    “Lilly? What-what is this? Who is he?”
    “Momma, he was at the park. He,” I started tearing up. “His parents are abusive and-and I just didn’t know what else to do. Can we please call somebody, momma? Please?”
    “Yes, honey.” Momma was now crying, feeling sorry for both me and the abused child. “Of course.”
    She reached out and took the boys hand and we called, together.
    __________________________________________________________________________
    It’s long, I know… But well, well worth it. I even got that lump in my throat and the hot cheeks. I used my own emotions to help the story……

  2. Wow… I changed the names from Sammy to Lilly… My bad… Sammy started out as one story and Lilly ended the other. I basically cmbined two stories which is why there are two names. Sorry about that….. 😮

  3. Yay! We’re back to prompts! 🙂

  4. “Why do you need glasses?”
    I looked down to see a little boy with large brown eyes and dark brown hair staring up at me.
    “Well, I need my glasses to read,” I replied, touching my glasses gently.
    “Why would you need glasses to read?” the kid asked. “It’s not that hard to sound out words.”
    “I need them to see the words.”
    Those big brown eyes grew wide. “You’re blind?”
    “No!” I said. “It’s just that when I’m not wearing my glasses, the words are blurry.”
    “What does ‘blurry’ mean?”
    Man! What is up with this kid?
    “Can we change the subject?” I asked.
    “What does that mean?”
    I struggled to think of something to say. “What is your name?”
    “Daniel.”
    “Hi, Daniel, my name is Sheryl.
    “Sheryl? How do you spell that? Wait! Don’t tell me, let me sound it out.”
    “Er…no, you don’t need to do that-”
    “shh…S-h…er-E-R…”
    “Um…I really need to get going.”
    “Can I try on your glasses?”
    Jeez, what was up with this kid and glasses?
    “Bye, Daniel!”
    I walked off, trying to get away from this kid I didn’t even know. Maybe one day he’ll GET glasses and be able to answer is own questions!

  5. The Winter days have gone by just as brisk as autumn leafs crumbling to the ground, but not a single hour goes by that I don’t see his eyes. His name was Adam or so we were told, every single feature stood out on him. From his perfectly rounded nose, to his longer then life eye lashes, set with midnight black hair. If it was not for his age he could’ve easily been mistaken for someone far beyond his years, the way he talked, possessing ownership over ever word that spilled off his tongue. Even that couldn’t compare to his eyes, for they were so Icey clear it’s as if looking into glass, his eyes as well possessed everyone’s attention. It wasn’t often little children got dropped off at our mid-island orphanage, so everyone was wondering who he belonged to how did he get here? Little boy lost, the island people called him, as for me I was just too mesmerised with his eyes, maybe if I wouldn’t have been I could have seen him for what he really was, but he had everyone in a trance; an illusion beyond our understanding. We would all wake up far too late though. That same day I met him is the same day he left, but right as he was somehow slowly evaporating in front of our eyes did I see it, the creature that lurked within him. Nothing human like about it, fingers strangely long, dead look in the eyes that were now midnight black, voice like nails against iron. Little boy no more, his height grew about 12ft consuming most of the Space around us with a dark coat of grey. Everyone was looking at him still mesmerised but not me.
    So,the next time you see a little boy pop up where you live, do not be fooled. If so, you will end up like everyone who was with him that day,dead.

  6. I had just gotten into another heated fight with my stepfather. He was yelling at my mom and I knew he was going to hit her, and I just couldn’t allow that again. So I stepped in between them started telling him to knock it off. And for the first time, he hit me. I literally saw stars as my head snapped to the side. There would be no hiding this. And then my mother was crying and sending me away, and he smirked in triumph as I walked out the door. No way was I sticking around for the inevitable abuse.
    It was dark when I walked outside, and I figured that it must be about midnight. I sighed as I shoved my hands deep into my pockets. It was a cold night, and my hoodie was hardly warming me at all. I walked down the street silently, sticking to the lighted areas – but constantly looking down. I heard soft footfalls behind me and my heart picked up speed as my mind flitted through dangerous and harmful scenarios. I spun around quickly under a streetlight, raising my fists in defense. But my arms dropped to my sides as I saw a little boy, no more than seven, cowering in fear. I took a step towards him and he backed up into an alley. I paused and knelt down.
    “Please come back. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” I could see his bright blue eyes, despite the darkness. I heard shuffling before he came a little closer to me. I kept speaking words of encouragement until he was in the light enough to where I could see him. My eyes widened as I took in his profile. He was dirt-stained, and wearing shorts and a tank top. I opened my arms to him and he looked scared, but eventually the need for warmth drove him into my arms. I wrapped my arms around his frail body and felt him shiver. I pulled back slightly to look down at him and saw his lips were blue.
    “What’s your name?” His voice was soft and shaky and my heart ached for him.
    “Rina. What’s yours?” He wouldn’t stop shivering and so I hugged him closer to me.
    “Kohl.” I nodded.
    “Kohl, can you tell me what you’re doing out here? It’s late, sweetie. And it’s cold.” His eyes welled with tears.
    “My daddy got home and started breaking things. I was scared, and so I ran. He was chasing me, but he got sleepy.” He paused and sniffled delicately. “I was afraid he was gonna hurt me.”
    “Has he hurt you a lot?” He nodded slightly, looking scared. My heart tied around his, and I knew I couldn’t leave him. “My daddy hurts me too. It’ll be okay, Kohl. We’ll get through this together.” He rose his hand and touched my cheek softly with his freezing cold hand.
    “Did your daddy do this to you?” I nodded and his eyes widened. I pulled away and took my things out of my pocket before slipping my hoodie off and onto his small frame. It practically swallowed him and he smiled for the first time. I put my things in my jeans pocket and picked him up. He wrapped his arms around my neck and rested his head on my shoulder. I began walking to the bus stop. I had been saving, hoping to leave with mom, but now I had a new mission. I was going to save this little boy, we would make it. I would keep my job at the diner, and get an apartment. I would homeschool him until his bruises went away and then I would hire a tutor to teach him. I would never let anyone lay on hand on either of us again.

  7. He was staring down at me. The ladder rung whined under his weight. That was odd. It could hold me. Something flicked behind him. A furry little thing was moving. Oh my goodness. The little boy, who had managed to sneak into the Keepers Den had a tail. I looked at the rest of him. Dirty clothes that announced that he was no better off than most. Shaggy reddish brown hair. Green striking eyes that seemed like a pit that someone as young as him should not have. My eyes trailed to the top of his head. Ears perked up and his head cocked to the side. Triangles of fur stuck to his head. They looked like…fox ears? What? He smiled down at me. How he had found his way into my dank dusty room was a question that needed answered.
    “How did you get down here,” I asked. His head cocked.
    “Magic,” he said. I didn’t know if it was literary or if he was being sarcastic. Then he jumped. With all the grace of a fox he landed on his feet and took off in the other direction. The air from his speed stirred my books as I stared at the place he was just at. I blinked, once, twice.
    “Anibel,” I said. The machine clicked on.
    “Yes ma’am.”
    “Lock down mode. Do not let the little fox boy out!”
    “Hai!”
    Machines hummed around me and gears grind near the trap door. The only entrance. I climbed up the stairs to my spot. It was at the center of my oubliette prison and the only place to get into the giant room. I lifted a book and flipped frantically through the pages. Did this place have a leek? Was magic really all it took to get in? These questions needed answers. The little fox boy could be sure that I would get them. When he was caught that is.

  8. I slowly walk out of the school building, the glass double doors slamming behind me. A chilly breeze blasted me from the side, shaking the tree branches. The brown leaves cascaded down around me, seeming to reflect my sorrow. I glanced at the giant oak, seeing a flash of a white sweater. From behind the tree peered a small boy with golden hair and fair skin. He jogged over to me, his bright blue eyes gleaming. “Hi!” The little boy greeted enthusiastically. Noticing my expression, he stepped closer. “What’s the matter?” The innocent boy questioned. I merely shook my head, fighting back tears. The boy took my hand solemnly. “’Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.’” He whispered. “Romans 12:12. That’s what the Bible says.” I looked down at the boy, who smiled back at me. “’Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.’ Proverbs 3:5-6.” The boy quoted. Hesitantly, I asked, “How do you know so much?” The boy flashed a hearty grin. “I’ll give you two more; ‘Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.’ John 14;27, ‘”I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”’, John 16;33.” Giving one more smile, the boy trotted off. I looked in wonder after him, then turned and re-entered the building. I never saw the boy again.

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