Writing Prompt

From Hannah: Look through your old journals or computer files and find one of your very first characters. Use him/her as your main character in the piece you write during the allotted ten minutes.

Write for 10 minutes. Post to comments.

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Posted on January 20, 2015, in Writing Prompt. Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. I wrote a book one time in the 6th grade called Soccer Shoes and it featured a guy named Zachary, or Zach for short. He was a soccer player and he didn’t really wanna be one. He’s, I guess, in the 10th or 11th grade. Not sure; you can decide! It mentions freshman and sophomore year, so he is either in sophomore or junior year…
    __________________________________________________________________________

    “Zach! Zachary, get up! Do you not realize that we’ll be leaving in less than 15 minutes? Get up out of bed and get ready! Now, Zach!” Mom screamed and that for sure woke me up. I mean, how do you expect anyone to get any sleep around here with all that yelling?
    I threw the left corner of my comforter off my body and swung my feet over the side of the bed. “Zachary! We are leaving here in 13 minutes. I’ll be in the car waiting.”
    I sighed. This is not what I signed up for. I could handle baseball, and I put up with tennis. But soccer was a completely different deal. I never wanted to do sports anyway. I didn’t want to be crowned Freshman and Sophomore King. I didn’t want Brianna as my girlfriend. I didn’t want to play every sport known to mankind. And I certainly didn’t want to wake up on a Saturday morning at 6am to do training for our upcoming tournament. I did not sign up for any of this!
    Nine minutes later I was in the kitchen putting a ham and cheese Hot Pocket™ in the microwave. While it cooked, I grabbed a Yoo-hoo™ and sucked it down. I know, I know, not the best I could do for a breakfast, but I have a theory. In the first 10 minutes of practice, I’ll work so hard that the Hot Pocket™ and Yoo-hoo™ will have to get all splashed around in my stomach and coming pouring out the sides of my mouth. Coach will see that I’ve worked so hard that I’m puking my brains out, and let me off for the day. It’s gold!
    …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

    Needless to say, my plan didn’t work. Well, the majority of it. We did work very hard; swimming in and out of the football players’ bean bags; crunching until our insides folded over in pain; suicides were the worst; and finally I puked when we did high knee/kick/ and then got a soccer ball thrown at the pit of our stomachs. Coach saw me puke, observed the yellow, orange, pink, and brown vomit and asked me, “Son, did you eat a Hot Pocket™ for breakfast?”
    Of which I replied, “Yes sir.”
    “And did you wash it down with, what is that? Milk? You had milk for breakfast?” He yelled and spit in my eye.
    “No sir. That right there is actually chocolate milk, or really Yoo-hoo™ chocolate milk.” I smirked.
    “Get off my field!” He spat in my face.
    ‘Woo hoo!’ I thought to myself. “I’ll be back Monday. See you then, folks.” This last sentence probably wasn’t the best idea, because Coach said, “And do not come back! Do you hear me Zachary? Zachary Jones! I mean it, son!”
    Ah shoot, mom’s gonna kill me.
    __________________________________________________________________________

    So, yeah… This was the very first story that I ever wrote. I was in the 6th grade and my English teacher, Mrs. Armstrong, assigned us to write about one pair of shoes on the table. Basically, for the assignment you were given 10 pairs of shoes. You had to pick one; heels, flats, ballerina slippers, soccer shoes, tennis shoes, etc. And then you wrote a story about it. So, yeah, this is the story I write. I’m pretty sure I got an A… lol 😀 Hoe you enjoyed! 😛

  2. Shadow growled and her fur bristled. “Why are you here?”
    Aliya stretched out her paws, laid herself on the ground and looked up at Shadow.
    “Greetings, from the Western Pack and myself, friend.”
    Shadow’s eyes narrowed. “I am no longer your friend.”
    “I am getting to be an old wolf, Shadow,” Aliya said. She stood back up to her full height and looked Shadow in the eye. “But I still remember the good times we had together.”
    “Good times?” Shadow echoed.
    “Do you remember the Pool of Magic?”
    Images flashed through Shadow’s mind. She shook her head to clear them.
    “Who could forget?” Shadow said. “But times have changed now. I am the leader of this pack since Amari died. You are Western Pack and I am Northern Pack. The alliance is over.” Shadow slammed her paw on the ground.
    Green eyes met green eyes as Aliya stared at Shadow. Shadow noticed that her usually shiny silver coat was starting to lose its shininess and was starting to grow dull. Her friend was aging. Aliya’s eyes shone with wisdom as she answered Shadow.
    “You have changed, my friend. What happened to that wise, little cub I used to know?”
    And with that, Aliya left.

    _______________________________________________________________________

    This is from a book I started several years ago. I wasn’t a very good writer then.

  3. I wrote a story in Creative Writing Class (first year) Called Monokuro Dreams,(monochrome dreams) and my main character’s name was Yuki Ichigo. She is a 14 year old junior high student (8th grade) from Japan. She moved to England to go to an Arts academy on full scholarship.

    “Yuki! Hold on a second will ya!?! School doesn’t start for another three hours!” Darcy shouted after me, as I walked briskly through the gloomy drizzle London is so used to having.
    Despite her desperate efforts, I declined, and kept moving. “I just want to go get a bauble tea in peace!” I thought to myself.
    As her efforts failed, as did mine. She had caught up to me, as I had accidentally pulled on the door that read “push”. She opened the door for me and smiled smugly. I hadn’t been quick enough. Though I frequented the tea shop, she did not. I could tell Darcy was thoroughly unnerved; this particular fact made me smirk. We hurriedly ordered, and received our drinks, and walked out. With a tea in one hand, and the other’s hand in the other, we weaved through the bustling crowd to reach our school.

    (Hope you all like this!) *w*

  4. Here I lie, on my squeaky spring mattress. I hear Jake above in his room, tossing and turning. Dang, these mattresses suck. Why do I even care? I should be asleep, not listening to him. But I’m not.
    I turn over and squint at the neon green analog clock on my nightstand. 4:00 am. Two more hours of this and I won’t have slept a wink all day. Maybe too much of a jump, but my mind gets crazy when I’m upset. I can’t stop thinking about the funeral. The one I thought was decades and decades off. Maybe Jesus would even come back and it wouldn’t have to happen. But it will, tomorrow.
    I try to block my thoughts, I don’t want to cry anymore. I don’t want to sit up another night and cry as I have done night after night. I don’t want to bother Jake, he’ll come downstairs and sit with me, letting me leave tear stains on his shirt, and fall asleep to his “It’ll be all right, I’m here” phrases. Not again. I can’t stand it, over and over. I want my father back. I want him back right now.
    He was the best man I knew. He was everything to me. When Mom left us, only a year after I was born, he became both parents to me. I know it wasn’t easy, that he missed Mom, that he still loved her, but he loved me and Jake so much, he did everything he could to keep a smile on our faces while holding his chin high. I close my eyes to remember his face. Already it is fading a little. I could almost trace the outline of every freckle on his nose, the cheekbones he got from his Cherokee father, the reddish hair of his Scot-American mother, Grandma Lizzy. They are coming to stay with us tomorrow, I don’t know for how long. I feel like I don’t want to know anything ever again. I just want to…
    I hear the footsteps on the back staircase again. I must be crying too loud. Jake is at my door in an instant. God I love my brother so much, I wish I wouldn’t bother him, though he assures me it doesn’t.
    “Jake, I can’t do this anymore. I want him back right now. I need him.”
    “Rianne, he’s always going to be with us, always.”
    I wish he was right. Why does my heart feel so empty?

  5. The oldest story I can find is called Shadows and Angels. It is a Get Backers which is a super fun and action filled anime. Sadly I only wrote about three sentences so I’m pretty much starting from scratch.
    I shrunk farther down in the chair. I really didn’t want to be here. Why Ban and Ginji had dragged me here, I had no clue. The Honkey Tonk stood around me. The smell of food and coffee hit me with their pungency. They wanted me to meet their friends and now I sat in front of them. Ban Midou sat to my left. His brown hair and glass covered eyes were intimidating but comforting. My true comfort though radiated from my right where Ginji Amano sat. His blonde hair and soft brown eyes smiled. Across from me sat Kazuki Fuuchouin. To his left was Shido Fuyuki. To Kazuki’s right was Himiko Kudo. Standing next to Himiko was Juubei Kakei. We sat in an awkward silence in till Shido Fuyuki broke it.
    “So you called us all the way here for some girl?”
    “Not some girl. Senya.”
    “What’s so special about her that you decided we should meet her?” Himiko said.
    “Senya, show ‘em your eye.”
    “H-Hai.” I pulled back the dark hair that covered part of my face. The chaos symbol was engraved there. (http://individual.utoronto.ca/prax/universe/elements.html) Their eyes widened, aside from Juubei who had been blinded in a fight. I let the hair fall back into it’s place hiding the cursed eye.
    “What is that?” Kazuki said for the first time. The string weaver looked truly interested. Unlike the poison user and animal tamer. They looked freaked out.
    “It’s called a chaos circle. It’s used in Alchemy.”
    “Alchemy? That stuff is real?”
    “You are surprised? You guys are everything but normal as well. It really shouldn’t be that surprising.”
    The lightning user, Ginji laughed loudly. The dream user, Ban smirked. The string user, Kazuki tilted his head. The poison user Himiki smiled. Juupei, the acupuncturist, said and did nothing. The animal tamer, Shido looked out the window. What mixed results?

    • Nice story! 😀 I love anime. I see a bunch of different reoccurring themes in anime here (Alchemy like in Fullmetal Alchemist, chaos symbols like in Fairy Tail and Fullmetal Alchemist, among others…) Hope you continue it! 🙂

      -Hannah O.

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