Write With Me 6/19

writing prompt 16

 

It was storming when my mother left us on the doorstep of the orphanage. My little brother and I. Our tears mixed with the rain as she disappeared into the taxi, never to be seen again.

I was sixteen. My brother was six.

His night terrors would wake up the whole floor. The headmistress would scold us. Beat us. Our mother used to sing to him until he calmed down, but I guess she couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe that’s why she left us. She never did say. Even through the bruises from the belt, I was able to keep a smile for my brother, Lucas.

“Something is wrong with your brother, Aaron,” the headmistress always used to tell me. She would pull me aside and dig her long, crimson-painted nails into the skin in my arm. My name is Alex, but whatever. I was going to be out of this horrible place as soon as I turned eighteen. She would be stuck with my brother anyway.

I never wanted to leave him, but the more nights I spent awake, cradling his wailing silhouette, the less I liked my brother. There were countless times that I wanted to smother him. Put him out of his misery. But I never did. Something always stopped me, and it wasn’t the fact that I was his older brother. It’s hard to describe, but it felt like a force was pushing me as I neared him.

Every. Single. Night.

Two years later, I was out of that god-forsaken place. Just like my mother, I left at dusk. It wasn’t raining at first, but a strong storm exploded out of the sky. Out of nowhere. My brother stood on the porch and watched me disappear into the taxi. Something was off, though, as I turned back to meet his gaze. His face was different. By the time I realized what it was, my ride had already entered the highway.

Unlike my mother, there would be a time when I saw Lucas again. But when I did, he would be on the news with a “WANTED” sign above his photo.

I almost didn’t recognize him. I was twenty-eight, he had just turned eighteen. He grew a beard and his nose had been broken at some point in the twelve years that I hadn’t seen him. Did someone finally try and kill him but failed? My body found itself nearer to the television while the story unfolded before my eyes.

“…Unknown threat,” the female news reporter stated. “Reynold County Police asks that you do not approach the subject. He is considered dangerous. But from what we understand, he does not carry a single weapon.”

“What?” I breathed. The news reporter’s peer spoke the same question simultaneously. “How is that possible?”

“We have no more information than this,” she said. “The Investigators just ask that you contact them immediately if you see Lucas Smith.”

I made a split second decision. “I have to find him before they do. He must have just left the orphanage not too long ago. He could be looking for me.”

Once I turned off the television and locked the door, I heard a familiar crash of thunder. A barrage of rain pelted down onto my garage as I backed my car out into the driveway. Why did it storm so often? As I looked up into the graying clouds overhead, I saw a bolt of lightning scatter across the sky, but it was the shape of a forked arrow, pointing North. Something drew me that direction, so North I headed.

Hours later, I found Lucas in a deserted foundation of an old building. He was sobbing violently on his knees. But the weirdest thing was the bubble that formed around him. It looked like an invisible umbrella stood over him, keeping the weather from touching him. 

“What the hell is going on?”

“Oh good,” a familiar, but more baritone voice said. A sullen smile spread across his face as he turned to me with tears in his eyes. “Alex… You followed my lightning.”

“YOUR lightning?” I said and took a step backward. A gust of wind pushed me closer to my brother. “What the hell is going on?” I repeated.

He stood up. “You’re drenched, brother.” Suddenly, a bubble similar to his formed over my head.

“Lucas…” I put my hands up. “What is going on? Tell me.”

“I’m a monster,” he whispered, barely audible to my own ears. “Alex… I. AM. A. MONSTER. And I can’t control it anymore.”

“What do you mean anymore?” I was panicking. I had no clue how to respond. Was my little brother truly controlling the weather? Were these horrible storms a result of an unknown ability that he had?

A shaky breath and Lucas explained why the weather was so dangerous overhead. “Mother sent a note to the orphanage. She left us because she was like this too. Says its some stupid gift or some shit. But NOTHING in that letter to say how to control it. I… I can’t. It’s too late for me. I can’t anymore…”

“I’ll take you to my home,” I pleaded. I thought I knew what he was planning, but he shook his head.

“I’m going off by myself,” he said. “To find mom if she is still alive. Perhaps you will see two storms colliding soon. But you should not be standing here anymore. It’s about to get deadly dangerous.”

“What are you talking about?” Part of me still refused to comprehend the situation. How could both my brother AND my mother have these otherworldly powers and I not know anything about it. And how was I so normal?

My brother did not respond at first. When he did, it was only three words. “Run, my brother.”

Another gust of wind nearly knocked me off my feet backwards. I wasted no time. By the look on his face, he was about to unleash havoc from above. Sirens wailed in the distance, closing in around him. Black veins crawled across his face and blackened his eyes as he let out a heart-stopping scream. It was the most terrifying thing I ever experienced.

I had just gotten back into my car when I saw it. A massive bolt of lightning careened down from the darkest cloud to the very spot where Lucas had stood. The explosion was so loud, it shook my car violently. I could feel the electricity through the hairs sticking straight up on the back of my neck, all down my arms, and into the floor. At first, I thought that I had been struck, but it couldn’t be. I was untouched. When no one appeared on the horizon, I drove home, shaking from the ordeal.

Every time a storm rolls in from the bay, I watch it pass through my city, hoping to see Lucas again. Sometimes, I can hear him screaming like he had all those years ago. I picture a taxi, leaving us in the rain. An Orphanage. A crimson-nailed headmistress. I wonder if my brother ever found our mother… and if he did, who won?

 

I hope you enjoyed, as usual! 🙂 Enjoy a Writing Prompt of my own making!

Writing Prompt

Just a Quick Poem

Here is just a little something I wrote tonight. No edits, just writing off the cusp.

 

Bury Me in White

 

Nature hides the death it sews with flakes of pure starlight,

All things must end in order to begin anew.

Here I shall stay while the seasons change,

Awaiting that what the Winter carries.

Draped in baskets woven from pillows spanning vast horizons overhead,

Grays above, so below. But from the gray, a flicker of white.

Droplets that have journeyed down softer than their kin

Tarry with me and witness their descent.

Blankets wrap around all that was once blossomed, a welcoming beauty

Sparling in the sea of unique flakes, I try, though cannot count them all.

For they are as numerous as the stars from which they bear their light,

I could spend my life waiting an answer.

Perchance I were to grow old with each passing year,

The seasons come and go just the same.

Bury me within the snow,

That I may rise in Spring.

Overdue Writing Prompt 6/12/18

writing prompt 16

It was the only way I could learn, daddy told me. “Outside. In nature,” he said. Every day I asked why, but he would never tell me. “You’re special” he would say, but nothing more. I wasn’t allowed to go to school after mommy died and daddy was all too hesitant to take me into town. It must have been something to do with the flowers.

What flowers you ask? Well, my daddy was right about me being special, but he wanted to hide me from the rest of the world. When I was thirteen and we were in the forest doing math, I couldn’t focus on my studies for some reason. My feet were touching the ground and I was sitting on a tree stump that daddy had made into a chair. He was standing next to me with an easel, trying to get me to pay attention. I wasn’t. Well… I couldn’t.

No matter how hard I tried, the feeling of soft grass on the soles of my feet seemed more interesting at the moment. As I moved my foot and revealed a trampled patch of greenery, something happened. A chill ran down my spine and to my feet. I thought it was a breeze from the Spring air. It wasn’t until I saw the frost where the indentations in the ground were.

Daddy started packing up his things and told me that we needed to “Go Home.” He looked around. Had anyone seen us? I was fed up. “I will not be hidden forever,” I threw my hands out to the sides and white icicles shot out of my fingertips. The feeling was electrifying. I craved more power. I refused to let it end.

In my anger, he told me how mommy died. “YOU killed her, you monster,” he screamed. “She held you in her arms while you cried as an infant, freezing her heart and her body. But she refused to let go. She loved you too much.”

So that was why daddy would never hug me unless I was happy. I hadn’t thought about it until now. He was afraid of what I could do. He was afraid of me. He called me a monster that day.

And that was the day I left.

In the middle of Spring, I was the Winter-Bringer. My daddy stood there, sobbing softly as I disappeared between the oak trees, frozen as I caressed their bark.

Today, I live in the city. No one knows of my powers… well… at least that I can remember. I even changed my hair to match Winter’s chill. It’s funny, everyone fears that the cold brings death, but it only holds onto what will grow the next year. I took it upon myself to show the beauty of the season, bringing it early each year.

Speaking of which… It’s about that time of year again. Time for me to start covering this busy city with a sleepy blanket of snow.

 

I hope you enjoyed! I know it’s been a while, but even writers go through spurts of inspiration. Hopefully mine will last for some time 🙂 Don’t forget to follow me for updates on the release of The Wanderer Trilogy: Purpose in the next couple months!

 

I’m keeping with the theme of the seasons today! Let’s see what you got! Comment below with your writings.

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Writing Prompt 4/17

writing prompt

 

He always got the attention. She was the outcast because her powers were nothing like their parents, Poseidon and Amphitrite. There were days that they left her in her sea castle, alone, where she studied ancient arts of potion making. When her brother was showing off his new abilities, she was studying. One day, when she was about fifteen, she brought her parents a Love Potion that she had been working diligently to perfect.

“Why would anyone want that?” her mother asked. “Love isn’t something you just make. It’s something you feel.”

But Ursula wanted to use it on her mother and father because, maybe, it would make them love her, too. She spent most nights talking to her two best friends, Flotsam and Jetsam. They were young eels, but they were the only creatures in the entire ocean who liked her.

Maybe it was her beauty that her mother was jealous of. Triton was a handsome boy, but took after his father. However, Amphitrite was beautiful, but not as beautiful as her daughter. Urusula was known throughout the ocean as the Hidden Pearl. Other sea creatures would wait for days to see her beautiful white hair and skin, lightly touched with lavender. And while she was not a mermaid like Triton or Poseidon, but a Cecaelia, half human half octopus, her beauty radiated from all angles of her.

But the neglect from her parents would change all of that. Years passed, and the beautiful Ursula spent most of her time trying to impress her family, particularly her mother. To no avail, mind you. Every potion she brewed was tossed across the castle, broken, or completely ignored. Finally, when she was an adult, Ursula left her family behind and hid from the world in an ancient cave. With her, came Flotsam and Jetsam, the only friends that she had in the entire world.

They appreciated her work, but so did another. A Half-Hydra by the name of Calix. Merwomen and other female sea creatures fought desperately for his attention, but he had seen Ursula leaving Poseidon’s castle and followed. It was her beauty that enticed him to keep going, venturing for days to her secluded cave in the Bermuda Triangle.

It was silent. Calix had lost sight of her, but followed the trail left behind as she drifted through the eerily calm water. As he rounded the corner, he saw her entire beauty. He begged for her hand in marriage. She obliged. But she was shocked that anyone would want to show her affection.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why me?”

“You are an amazing person,” he replied with a smile. “And the most stunning creature I have ever seen.”

On the day of their wedding, Ursula was having Flotsam and Jetsam put the finishing touches on her make-up before she would make the long journey to her father’s castle. They reluctantly agreed to host the ceremony.

“At least my parents will be there,” she thought. “And my brother.”

The welcoming sight of the mile-high towers brought back memories for the young woman. Both good and bad images from the past arose in her mind. When she entered through the front gates, her parents were standing there with her soon-to-be husband. They had smiles on their faces, but they were not looking at her. She turned around, and Triton was there with his father’s trident. It was pointed in the direction of Calix.

“What’s going on?” Ursula cried as two guards grabbed her, holding her back.

“This man is evil,” her brother growled. “He would steal the crown from King Poseidon himself.”

Ursula was the next in line for the throne. When her father passed, Calix would be the heir. But Triton would never let that happen. The crown was HIS. In a blink of an eye, the only man who loved her was dead. Her brother stood there with an evil smile on his face. His sister was released and banished from the land in tears.

Since then, Ursula lived in a constant state of depression growing to become what Ariel, King Triton’s daughter, came to know. Her face became grotesque from lack of sunlight and her bitterness persisted. She would die in the same way she lived, alone and miserable.

 

I hope you enjoyed! Try this one and post yours down in the comments!

 

Writing Prompt 2

Writing Prompt 4/9

writing prompt

I was the new kid in school. My parents moved around a lot, and it always freaked me out when I had to go to class the next day.

“No one will even notice sweetie,” my mom would ALWAYS say. “Just wear your contact.”

That was the only thing that made me feel normal, my one brown contact. It made my eyes the same color, because they weren’t. When people noticed, I felt like a freak. They would stare… always stare. Kids would point at me, asking their parents what was wrong. I would get some compliments, sure, but complete Heterchromia is somewhat rare. Guys would flirt with me, saying how “unique” I look.

But I don’t want to be “unique”. I just want to be normal. The FIRST thing everyone sees is my eyes. People know me for just that, not my name. Hell, most people probably don’t know that my full name is Emberle Emilia Evancough. EEE… that’s pretty unique. Why can’t people know me for something like THAT?

That isn’t my parent’s last name. They adopted me and let me keep my old last name. They liked the EEE thing, I guess.

Anyway, I bought the brown contact for that reason. I started to wear it, and people stopped staring, pointing, and bothering me about it. My bright blue eye is now covered. It itches like crazy when my allergies come in during Spring, but I don’t care.

Of course I start this new school when my eye is particularly itchy. The flowers were all in bloom, shooting their pollen into my eyes like tiny bullets. Tiny. Itchy. Bullets. Well, that’s what it felt like. And yes, I begged my mom not to let me start that day, but she told me to “Get over it Emberle. You’re in High School for God’s sake.”

“I just want to fit in,” I told her. “I don’t want to stick out. What if my contact falls out and gets scratched. Then I can’t put it back in?”

“Then you keep your eyes closed all day,” my dad joked. But it wasn’t funny. I was being serious. WHY DON’T THEY LISTEN TO ME?

When I walked through those doors to a sea of people, backpack strapped across my shoulder, I wanted to die. Literally die. My eye started itching, so I reached for my eye drops. NO! I forgot them at home. I turned to where my mother had dropped me off, but her car was already gone. I couldn’t chase after her. Crap. 

“Don’t itch it,” I whispered. But I knew it wouldn’t last. I am such an idiot. I just ran to my first class, pushing through the crowds. If I sat in the back of the room, I could put my head down on the desk where no one could see.

The first part of the day was successful. I managed to make it through Period 1, 2, & 3 without incident. Lunch, however, was a little different. The Seniors & Juniors already took most of the spots in the Cafeteria that would allow me to be alone. Even the secluded picnic tables outside were taken by them. The Underclassmen were stuck in the crappier tables, all bunched together like sardines.

I grabbed my tray of food and squished between a boy and a girl. This table, at least, looked like it was filled with Nerds. They were talking about the Dungeons & Dragons game they were playing over the weekend. When they saw me, they asked my name.

“Emberle,” I answered with a half-smile. “Nice to meet you all.” But it wasn’t nice. I was focusing on my stupid eye. The windows in the Cafeteria were open, so the pollen was floating inside. You couldn’t see it, but I could feel it. My body was screaming “EMBERLE! WHY DO YOU TORTURE US WITH THIS FOREIGN OBJECT!? WE MUST MAKE YOU SCRATCH!”

But if my contact fell out… then everyone would see. And the rest of the day would suck. And I would want to die. I begged my body to stop, but it just made it worse. I couldn’t take it anymore.

I scratched. And, of f****** course, my contact fell out ON THE FLOOR. I tried not to look up, but one of the guys at the table noticed.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Fine,” I said. It looked like I was winking at him. God, I look so stupid. “I just lost my contact.”

“Oh no! Can you see okay or do you need help?”

I guess my brain wasn’t processing things correctly. It was probably the pollen. Looking up at them, I realized my mistake. The whole entire table gasped in unison. If my eyes weren’t such dramatically different colors, they may have not been so shocked.

“Your eyes…” one started to speak.

I was tearing up at this point. “I know. They look silly. I was born like this. And now, everyone can see. They look… they look…”

The boy from across the table pulled out something in his eye and looked at me. “They look just like mine. Only the opposite eye.”

My eyes widened. I had to squint to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. But he was right. His blue eye was on his left. Mine, right. His brown eye was on the right. Mine, left. Something felt weird when I looked at him, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Eli,” said the girl sitting next to him. “Emberle looks a lot like you! Like scarily. Could she be your…?”

I felt like I was in a dream. He tilted his head and asked, “Are you adopted, per chance?”

I answered him with another question. “What is your last name?”

“Evancough,” he said. “Eli Emmett Evancough. My parents wanted to keep my old last name because of the-“

“The EEE,” I don’t think I had ever smiled so big in my life. Holy shit. I found my long-lost twin. My heart was racing. He was a mirror image of me, literally. Even the eyes. His hair was the same color. In fact, he looked like me in a masculine-form.

“This is the COOLEST lunch period EVER,” one of the guys laughed. The table instantly started asking me questions.

From then on, my parents never moved again. And I never put in that brown contact again.

 

Sorry for this post being late!  I hope you enjoyed it! 🙂

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