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Writing prompt #21

So sorry for such long delays between writing prompt responses, I’ve been in a low place lately and this was just one of those things that got cut so that I could manage. But enough about that here’s another writing prompt response.

I’d known Ricky for damn near my whole life and granted that wasn’t long per se, but it was more than most. Probably why it bothered me now, what with how much things had changed. Naturally, we took turns guarding the door, neither of us sleeping very much. Ricky looked nervous, and suddenly I felt bad about getting hin involved. I shouldn’t have and I see that now, now that it’s too late. Hindsight was a bitch. 

How we came to be here was something that had been brought up in the hasty desperate arguments that have strewn up over the last few days. They don’t get us anywhere other than more frustrated, more desperate. We still guard that door, relying on one another because there really is no other option. The resentment that has come to a boiling point can’t spill over, not if we want to live. 

We take turns, begrudgingly to open the door a crack only but a crack, and to peer out into the darkened hallway of the school we’d managed to run into before it was too late. Funnily enough, it still felt too late, but we were still trying and that was more than you could say for the better part of the world. 

I nodded to Ricky, the nervous man swallowed reached up with a quivering hand and twisted the knob of the door handle. Opening the door just a hair, barely a crack, less than what you could call wide enough to peer through but just enough to gather a glimpse of the darkened corridor outside. There was darkness there, nothing new, and there in the far distance eyes. Ricky shut the door in haste, though we both winced when we heard the overly loud click of the door sealing itself shut once more. Ricky stared back at me and I knew, they were still out there.

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OMG those news outlets, why would you ever ask something like that?! That’s so invasive and just wrong and god do I love him calling them all out. 

[sarcasmismyweapon-pewpew]

Prompt #20

Another prompt response for you all.

He sprinted away, not daring to look back, his footsteps echoing down the hallway like distant gunshots. He just had to get to the back stairway and up to his office on the second floor, where he might just manage to hold himself away from the world. Save himself.

He had always been a nervous thing, Jerry knew this, but now...Now after everything, it turns out that the very same thing that made him odd or strange was what had kept him alive so long. Nervousness had a purpose, kept you on guard, prepared. Jerry had to be prepared because those who weren’t...He shuddered, best not to think about it. 

The stairs were eerily lit, the dim lights that were recessed into the walls barely produced enough light to illuminate the stairs let alone anyone skulking around in the dark. Jerry was quick about it, each step more frantic than the last as he drew closer and closer to safety. The bag that he’d had slung over his sweaty back dug into his flesh in places but that didn’t matter. He had more supplies and in this day and age...That meant survival. 

Coming up the final gap between him and salvation, Jerry froze. Those nerves of his prickled. The skin on his body pulled taut and the hairs on his arms rose as the air around him vibrated. The air was thicker, heavier than when he’d left. His eyes scoured the darkness, the door was just a few feet, he was almost there. A tapping sound reached his ears and Jerry knew, he wasn’t going to make it to that door. Sweat beaded and slowly trailed down the back of his neck and the sides of his face from his brow. Still, he had to try. Trying was better than laying down to die. Jerry took a shuddering breath and he ran.

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Prompt #19

Funny thing, the pages in the book that I’m using the prompts out of apparently stuck together or maybe it was because two started with the same opening line that I got confused...So things are out of order if you were following along. Sorry about that, I’m backtracking to cover the ones that I missed. To those not following along...Well, it doesn’t matter XD.

The soldiers were tense, waiting for something to happen-like it was a matter of when, not if. For our part, we did our best to steer clear of them, avoiding the main square, where a group of protesters was rallied around the fence. As if being held back by that barrier with their signs wouldn’t prevent their voices from carrying to those who could change things.

None of us had the heart to tell them, or maybe it was we didn’t have the strength too. Either way, no one told the folly few that their words and signs meant nothing to those on the other side of the fence. How could it? They were safe after all and the rest of us? Well, we were expendable.

The time would come when something did happen and those soldiers who looked just as scared as the rest of us, well they’d be forced to act wouldn’t they? That was their job, after all, containment. No one in or out and those too stupid to listen? There were such things as mass graves, history was nothing if not impeccable in stating what one did when there were too many bodies and far too few places to bury them. We’d join them soon enough, all of us would. Even those foolish soldiers who thought that they wouldn’t be pitched over that fence when this was all but over.

None of us had the heart to tell them, then again, maybe we wanted to watch them fall in too.

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Prompt #18

Okay, so this is the last one I’m going to do in compensation for having been two weeks behind. So sorry about that XD. 

The dining room was set, everything, everybody was in place. I stood there at the head of them all, their gazes locked upon me. I was eager, all too eager to being, but I forced myself to wait. I stopped for a breath before cutting the turkey. I wanted to appreciate the moment. Seeing everyone there, sitting around the table, almost felt like we were a family again. But if we had been a real family then it wouldn’t have been death that brought us together that night. 

Funny how such things, life, and death bring those together. You celebrate as a family when a baby is born, you mourn together when someone dies. Everywhere in-between is a grey area...A void. 

A real family shouldn’t need life or death to be together, shouldn’t need the phone to ring and state that there will be a family gathering because blah blah blah. Why couldn’t one just pick up the phone? Call? Text? Anything...But no, we were not a real family. We were as fake as the dinner laid out before us, a make-believe feast that would garner us no nourishment, no happiness, it was a void. And we were trapped in it. 

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Prompt #17

Writing prompt response #17 from the book “Complete the story.”

Sometimes kids are the only ones willing to say what’s really on their minds, and our family a little dose of honesty. We almost never said something straight out. My mother was the worst. All she would do was avoid everyone’s gaze the moment a touchy subject was arose. The rest of our family were just as culpable when there was no response to their own query they ducked their heads and turned away. The subject was lost and never brought up again. 

I was not content in this, though I followed along with all the rest. How could I Not? This was how I was raised, this would be how I died no doubt. After all, none of us could even bring up the terrifying truth of what was going on around us. We were already sinking in a ship far too weak, our ability to swim useless when it came to such things as the reckoning upon us. Through all of this, none would speak, rather than fret about what was about to happen, they turned their gazes away as if looking at loved ones about to perish was just as painful as the truth. 

I wish I had spoken up sooner, rallied against them and told them otherwise to their foolish plan. It was much too late now, and on instinct alone, I too was casting my face aside. I bit my lip, tasting a bit of blood from where my chapped lips split apart like the busting of seams. Taking a breath, I steadied myself twisted about to stare at all those who were looking away. I was prepared, I was ready, I had to speak the truth. If not now then when?

“I told you a cruise was a bad idea.”

They listened, their heads canting back towards me in stunned silence. I nodded, pleased with myself. I had spoken the truth, I had faced them and won. The water pushing in on us from all sides was meaningless at that moment. Because as soon as I was to face death, I had spoken up. It brought a smile to my face, a great contrast to the looks of horror on my families. Shame I would not know if it was because of my words or because of the water spilling inwards upon them. 

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Prompt #16

So I’m behind schedule guys, I got caught up in other stuff and felt super guilty for not posting which lead to me not posting again...Stupid brain. Anywho, I’m here to make up for that. Here’s a prompt!

Even after a long day at work, my mother’s hands worked tirelessly: chopping vegetables for dinner, stitching our clothes, whatever needed doing. I loved her hands and admired them. I wanted to be strong like her. But at the time, I couldn’t be. I would have, and gladly, if I weren’t so dependant on the mask. 

It made everything a bit foggy and although she had enough sense memory to go about such tasks with limited sight, I did not. I’d never stitched clothes or chopped vegetables, not before and now I was liable to hurt myself should I attempt it. The masks might have been our saving grace, but it was just as damning. 

The next generation was sure to have poor eyesight, stuck in these confines of the masks to make sure that our eyes were shielded. We were basically mole people now, had to be, the startling lights that had reigned down from the sky were blinding in their brilliance and many had gone blind, gone insane. No one talked about what you saw in the light, everyone knew enough, knew that those who fell under its glimmer were never the same. Far safer to be blind than to see too much. 

One day my mother might show me how to do things, but until that happened I would squint and stare through the foggy lenses, up as close as I could be without disturbing her. Watching those strong hands protect me in the same way the masks did. 

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Prompt #15

Here is this week's prompt response from the book “Complete the story”. 

Harry shuffled the deck of cards and pushed it across the table. “Deal,” he said. “One more hand,” I agreed. It was a way to pass the time. More importantly, it was a way to avoid talking about what would happen when one of us ultimately lost. You only had so many chips after all and sooner or later someone had to fold for real. When that happened, when the last hand had been played and all the wealth exchanged hands...Well, that was what we were both avoiding now, wasn’t it? 

No one wanted to be the one to have to get up and walk away just as maddening as no one wanted to be the one left behind. It was a high stakes game and when you got right down to it, nobody won. Sure one lived and one died, but the one who lived...Some say they had it worse than those who were left behind. After all, those that died are just stuck there playing the same card game for the rest of eternity. The ones who live, they have more games yet to play and no one knows where you’ll end up when the last card lands. 

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Writing Prompt # 14

Sorry, this is a day late, I was just really preoccupied last night and didn’t want to stop working on another project. So here is this week’s writing prompt response.

It began as a practical joke. But by the end of the day, nobody was laughing. It seemed innocent enough at first because Jerry and I have a history of playing practical jokes on one another. He was the one who started the whole thing If I’m not mistaken. He and I had known each other all the way back in High school and our friendship only strengthened as we graduated and found our place in the world. It wasn’t a good place, but it was ours.

The joke that went sour was all just bad timing or at least that’s what I’m lead to believe. Now, looking back on it there was probably more that I could have done, that I should have done. Shock is a bitch that way, your mind just locks up and it’s like it’s no longer your own. I wish I wish that I had been strong enough, more aware or I don’t know...Better. If I was, maybe Jerry would still be here.

[sarcasmismyweapon-pewpew]

Writing prompt #13

Whew, little later than I would have liked but this is what happens when you don’t have access to the internet. Here is my take on prompt #13 from the book “complete the story”

It hurt even now to know the things I did, the things that would haunt me forever, the things I wish I could change but can't. She believed in me in a way no one else ever had and no one else ever will, and I betrayed her. The worst part is she doesn’t know. She still thinks that it was all a mistake, a simple clerical error that saw her being held back. Something so simple, she said, something easily fixable with time. 

I did not wait. 

Time wasn’t on her side, the horrors that she would go through, the things she would see and be forced to do. All my thoughts came back to it, to the fact that I had been the one who didn’t make sure her papers were in order. One slip of paper meant a lifetime of suffering. She lived, oh how she lived but was it worth it? Watching her story play out on the T.V. years later, books and movies being made to tell her story and in all of them...All of them I was the love who was torn away from her. Not the reason for it all.

[sarcasmismyweapon-pewpew]

Writing prompt #12

Here’s this weeks response to a writing prompt in the book “Complete the story”. 

The music drifted out of the club like a vibrating pulse. I could feel it in my bones. The night was alive with possibility. I could even imagine myself taking home one of the pulsating bodies, but that was so daring, and I, I was not. 

It was a dream and nothing more, too many centuries passing by and with it the urge to deal with humanity. Now, it was just survival, fitting that the throbbing of blood should draw me closer to such a place, with each sensuous movement of their bodies these creatures, these humans drew me in. 

It was hard not to want to mingle, but like many times before I knew, giving in to such temptation always led to ruin. Staring across the vast sea of bodies, of souls ripe to ruin, I contemplated which would be mine that night, not to take home oh no, simply one to taste and release. As if I was some fisherman who wanted to get the right catch of the day,  tossing out those who didn’t meet my requirements. Instead of the trial and error that came of teasing and taunting, I looked further into the crowd to find the right one. Tonight I sought out something savory to sate my hunger. No guppy was going to be on my table tonight, I was a skilled fisherman, after all, I could wait. Wait for the right catch. 

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Writing prompt #11

As promised here is this week’s dedicated prompt, we’ll see if I get around to doing more throughout the week or not XD.

Until that day, fear had been an idea, a concept. Now it was real: a feeling I would carry inside me for the rest of my life. The day began innocently enough, with me grabbing a quick coffee on my way to work. The tedious thrum of the radio’s morning show sputtering out through the speakers of my worn down SUV. I ignored it as I did every morning, half tempted to return to audiobooks only to remind myself that those were just as equally as tedious. 

It was by far one of the biggest mistakes I could have made that day, no, it was a bad one to be sure but not the worst. There would be plenty of time for those in the future. Should I have listened to the drumming background noise I might have heard the first warnings of what was to come, instead I rallied in frustration at the morning traffic and sipped an overly milky coffee. 

Coming into the office I was greeted by a lackluster crew, sighing in a resigned fashion to too many people being late or worse, many calling in sick because the weather had turned nice. A quick glance out the window proved that the latter wasn’t an option, it was a rather drizzly miserable day, so there was that. 

Secluding myself in my office, I sat there a moment, staring at the first documents that I was to oversee. I stared blankly, almost unseeing to whatever they might have held. It was only when the periphery of my eye caught something of interest that my head perked up. I twisted my head expecting to find a bird on the ledge only to freeze. What lay beyond the window wasn’t a bird, but far worse than a pesky sky rat. 

No, there was fire, far too close and far too threatening. It sent sweat into my palms as I watched it rage seemingly from nowhere and yet everywhere. My eyes caught movement, people down below who were running, fleeing the flames. Rightfully so, even I was rousing from my chair in preparedness to evacuate and that’s when I saw it. The reason the fire burned so brightly, so hotly on the horizon. A large black shape loomed over the ground, jagged edges supported my overextended limbs that made it more akin to a spider than the flying saucer my mind brought forth. 

I watched, probably for way too long as the thing descended upon the city. My city. Evacuating was the only escape, the only thought and prayer that I and all too many others had that day and the many days to come. Yes, that fear would linger with me for the rest of my days, more so what lengths the human body could go to survive. How humanity was a thing of the past not because we were wiped to extinction but because we lost what made us human the moment that thing descended upon us. Survival was all that mattered and it was everyone for themselves. 

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Writing prompt #10

Okay, so I fully intend to continue these writing prompts even throughout the art scholarship projects but instead of randomly posting here and there with long gaps between postings I’m going to start posting one prompt every week on Sundays. Why Sundays? Because that’s when I do my other posting’s on websites so it’s just easier to lump everything together. So every Sunday there will be a prompt and if I feel up to it, maybe a few throughout the week. Now, on with the prompt!

It was quiet, eerily so and one that preluded far more than just the darkness surrounding him. This calm quiet evening was far more treacherous that it would make any onlooker believe, but he knew better.

The darkness was thick and suffocating like a heavy blanket had been thrown on the world. He had to get over the wall, had to get across the border before that cloying darkness swallowed him whole. It was easy to forget that what was around him, suffocating him, wasn’t just his problem but others as well. The darkness was spreading, it’s inky tendrils slithering through the world pulling and pulling on those who tried to flee its grasp. That’s what it was doing to him and that’s why he needed to get across the border. 

Dawdling would see yet another border closing, those trapped on the other side left for dead. It was a race against time, against the darkness and the fears of men. He refused to be left behind like so many others, the ones that even he in his fear had turned his back on. So many haunting things, just as dark as the cloying presence chasing them all. 

[sarcasmismyweapon-pewpew]

Today is a good day

So I’m unsure whether or not I posted this before, but I was selected as one of the recipients of a scholarship for art on the website Deviantart. I got art supplies in order to make new works and today everything arrived! It’s so cool and I’m just so excited to get started on things. I’ll be cross-posting stuff both here and on my DeviantArt account. 

So if you’re interested in checking out my works you can see what I post here or go to the gallery itself to see everything XD. I’ll be doing another writing prompt in just a few minutes as well since that’s most likely why anyone is here. 

[sarcasmismyweapon-pewpew]

Writing prompt #9

Alright, this is the last one for today, I just wanted to try and do a bit of catch up since I’d taken such a long break from posting. Just a reminder that the prompts that I’m reacting to are from the book “Complete the story” Great book by the way XD.

As she stared out at the deep dark sky, looking up in the Milky way that loomed overhead like a sparkling jewel she wished she could hide away in her room, Lucy lay on her back the roofs shingles biting into her at places.  

It flashed through the sky and then was gone. Lucy was sure she had seen a UFO and was equally sure aliens were here to secretly make contact with a human being. Maybe they would choose her. Maybe she would get to visit their ship. Maybe-

The loud bang from below had her jumping, though not in fright of the startling noise so much as what it meant. Scrambling to her feet, the girl raced to get down from the roof and shimmy back into her bedroom. Her knee caught the shingles a bit, the skin biting as the shingles grated off pieces of flesh like she would cheese in the kitchen. A sharp hiss left her but didn’t stop her motions to get inside. Sliding in through the cracked window, Lucy jumped onto her bed just as the door to her room came open. She smiled, innocently, as if that simple smile would somehow make all the difference. It never did.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stay off the damn roof?”

Lucy sighed. “I’m sorry momma.”

A shake of her head was quickly followed by the older woman’s chiding tone. “You’re going to go breaking your neck one of these days and then what am I supposed to tell your daddy? Sorry, hun, Lucy went and broke her neck cause she was watching for aliens.” The woman had a bark of laughter, not only at the absurd words she’d just uttered but the reason they might come about. Giving her child a rather patient look, the woman made shooing motion. “Into bed now, no more searching for aliens tonight.”

“But I swore I saw-”

A shake of the head and a firmer gesture had Lucy sighing, climbing obediently into her covers. Safely nestled into her bed, she whispered. “Night momma.”

“Goodnight Lucy.” The woman smiled before giving one last final warning. “You stay in your bed now, you can go out searching for aliens in the morning.” She chuckled as she closed the door.

Lucy sighed, looking forlornly towards the window, her fingers tapping on the blankets as she fought the urge to go and take one last peek. She knew better though, she’d climbed too high on the roof and sent off the alarms, momma must have changed them cause Lucy hadn’t heard them go off. Giving a tired huff, the purple-skinned girl twisted about in bed, her three-fingered hand clutching tightly to the blanket. She was sure she’d seen one that night, an alien.

[sarcasmismyweapon-pewpew]

Writing prompt #8

To make up for the absence, I figured that I’d do a few more writing prompts. I’ve got some spare time now that I’m done with the big drawing project I took on. XD

Looking back, it could have gone either way. It didn’t work out, which makes it look like fate, or a stupid decision, or both. But at the time, I did have a few things in my favor. I had my health, something not guaranteed at this point in time, I had a reasonable mode of transportation. A bike. 

Who knew that all those nature moments with the parents would pay off in the end? Not I, that’s for damned sure. I hated the outdoors, loathed it as much as one can another living thing as if the plant life lurking behind the front door had it out for me. Now, I knew better, now I knew there were far more worrisome things than a bit of plant. 

But the fate bit, that was always the kicker wasn’t it? Go out on one last nature hike to get the parents off your back for the week because you “Don’t get out enough” And it turns out to save your damned life. The irony of that will most likely haunt me for however long I live, nowadays that’s about as predictable as a roll of the dice. If only I had a pair. 

Now, I had a bike, my health (However long that lasted), and a seemingly endless trail to follow that was leading me to the next hurdle in my grand journey towards salvation, not the religious kind mind you, that was so far gone that it was as laughable as my nature hike saving my life. No, this type of salvation was one that would lead me far from the calamity that had already overtaken the eastern seaboard, you didn’t want to be near the ocean. Never again. Beaches were a thing of the past now, a lot of things were things of the past...

[sarcasmismyweapon-pewpew]

Writing prompt #7

So it’s been a while, I got caught up in a few other projects but that’s no excuse to neglect this one XD. So, let’s get back to the prompts.

There was something about the open road that just made the air feel cooler, fresher somehow. The breeze that would waft in from the open windows teasing of things further ahead on the road. 

The yellow lines on the highway sped by in a blur, and we flew through the night, and we felt free. But we weren’t, and we knew it. We were running away from something, and running away was never the path to freedom. I thought about telling John to turn back. I thought about suggesting the impossible, to stop running.  I knew he wouldn’t abide by it, he’d shake his head adamant that we could find someplace further ahead to rest a while and when the new day came we’d feel refreshed and ready to take on the rest of our journey. 

No matter how far we went, there was still so much further to go. It was neverending-Something we both knew in our hearts but neglected to bring up when discussing which direction to head. Talking about it just made it so much more real and the last thing we needed right now was reality. 

So I bit my tongue, gave into the breeze and felt free if only for a moment. Whatever was lying just up ahead wasn’t freedom, but it was a sight better than what was stalking us from behind. There was a reason that John had torn down the rearview mirror, after all, there was no going back.