Day 8

(Days 6 + 7 I’m skipping. For 6, I’ve never been drunk. For 7, I just don’t like it.)

Day 8: Imagine you are unable to leave the room you’re in for the next 7 days. Chronicle each of the seven days, using less than 50 words for each. 

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Day 3

Write a 15 step list titled “How to be _____”

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Writing Challenge: Day 1

I decided I wanted to do another writing challenge. I’d like to make myself write some type of story at least once a week, and I figure this is the best way to do it.

Put your ipod or itunes on shuffle. Write 250 words inspired by the first and last lines of the first song that plays.

(I used my brother’s itunes for fun, and because my ipod is dead…)

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Post a story of your own that you have written at least a month ago.


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Write a free verse.

My eyes, they’re searching. For you.

I hear

      a tinkle of a bell,

  a cry for help,

  a tear,

a want.

I see you

and all I want

is to hold you again

in one embrace.

               With one last kiss.

One last touch.

Oh, but I could


let go.

Forgive me.

                     I miss you.

Write a short fairytale.

Once upon a time, in a land unlike our own, a young girl sat in a meadow. The meadow was filled with unusual-looking flowers. There were deep purples and blues, light golden browns, and even a few light pinks here and there. Flowers, trees, and even a few different weeds cascaded through the meadow, creating a jungle of wild plants, all different shapes and sizes.

The girl wasn’t really doing anything. She just sat on a rock, looking bored as she chewed and scraped at her nails. She looked down at her pet—which, to us, would resemble a cat. “I wish I could go somewhere new…” She whispered to it as she gave it a pat on the head.

And with that, she ran off into the sunset, in hopes of stumbling down the rabbit’s hole—in hopes of finding a frog to kiss and turn into a prince.

But, really, what she found, was friendship like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

She met Raven.

Which types of books do you usually read? Why?

I usually read fiction. I love getting lost in the stories, imagining myself in them, and just escaping reality for awhile. It’s such a healthy way to get away.

Short Story

Write another short story: "His Embrace"

I’m not really here, no. I’m not.

He’s hugging me, he is, but no, no he’s not.

Not really.

“Listen, Becca…”

“No, don’t say anything,” I murmured from his shoulder. “Let me have my moment.”

His arms tightened around me. I burrowed my head deeper into his shoulder, pressing my eyes into the bone, hoping that with all the pressure applied I wouldn’t cry.

I could feel his heart beating. Thump, tha-thump, tha-thump.

I rubbed his warm back, felt his thick, Winter coat, and pressed my body against his. My feet were getting colder and colder by the second, the cold, winter air blew across my bare toes, and, every time they lurched back from the cool breeze, they dug into cold, wet snow.. My gloveless fingers ached for a hint of warm air, and my nose was numb as could be. But I wasn’t ready to let go. I’d chased him this far, how could I just let go?

“Becca. You don’t have any shoes on, and it’s cold. We have to go—You have to go.”

“I can’t, Jake.”

“Becca…” His voice caught. He, too, was upset. He didn’t want to let go either.

I moved my face up, pressing my mouth to his ear. I spoke, “It’s inevitable, I know. You want to be with her. But just tonight, could I have you for a little while. Just let me feel your embrace. My body can wait for warmth, but my heart can’t wait for this.” I was astonished at how smooth my words had come.

His face softened. He nodded and pulled me closer, closing his eyes and biting his lip.

Again, I tried to feel. I tried to will myself to remember each contour and arche of his back. I tried to memorize the shape of his shoulders, the softness of his cold ears, his scratchy, unshaven stubble, and his heart beat. I listened to his breathing, felt his hair, pressed my stomach closer to his, feeling the warmth of his body.

I thought of every night we’d spent together looking at the stars. Every night we’d fallen asleep outside together. Every night we’d watched movies until sunrise.

I would remember everything. Even when he was gone for good and I was walking home barefoot in the cold snow, I would remember.

I would feel his embrace even after Winter passed.


Write a short bio of any of your friends.

All right- Aiden.

Aiden enjoys Doctor Who. No, I mean, the classic DW. He plays Magic: The Gathering, plays piano, guitar, and saxophone, and he’s just wonderful.

He’s talented, intelligent, hilarious, witty, fun, inspiring, caring, empathetic, a wonderful listener, and he’s gorgeous.

He’s the kindest person I’ve ever met and I’m so very glad to have him in my life.



Write another poem.


To feel this way is special.
It’s rare, unique, and fun,
I feel it each and every day
whenever I think of you.
It’s unbelievable really,
how someone like you
could like someone like me.


My love for you has grown,
With you, I feel at home.
I feel my heart ready to burst.
This love, it’s like a curse.
and until the day I can have you,
well, I’ll just have to keep feeling blue.


Simplicity is special, it gives you room to think.
It fills the gap of wonder, but still leaves empty space.
Simplicity is nice, in each and every way.
It’s simple yet complex, yet so very, very grey.

(Poetry is not my strong point, but here you are!)