Happy Thanksgiving Break, Everyone!

I’ve been doing some random writing prompts in English, and is figured I might as well share what I wrote, seeing as I never post on here like I’m supposed to. The thing is, I hate typing on my school iPad, and until I get a job, I won’t be able to afford a laptop. That said, here’s the prompts I wrote for English.


It was my turn to dig.
My time was up. After several long hours waiting in the sun, there was no more avoiding it.
It was my turn to dig.
The sandy horizon spread before me in a never ending haze of dust and heat.
It was my turn to dig.
With trembling hands, I took the shovel from the attendant, with his stare that never broke or shifted, his eyes that not once closed.
It was my turn to dig.
No escape, no way out. Shovel eating into the moist sand at the bottom of the five foot hole.
It was my turn to dig.
CLANG! My shovel struck metal, and
The attendant jumped into the hole, attempting to grab my shovel
In a rush of greed.
But it was my turn to dig.
My newly formed callouses ripped as I tore the shovel away from him.
It was my turn to dig.
My shovel devoured the ground with vigor unlike any before, because
It was my turn to dig,
And I had found it.
It was my turn to dig, and no one would ever dig again.
My turn to dig. My shovel eating the dirt. My brow leaching sweat.
The treasure uncovered, enough to last forever
For whoever’s turn it was dig.
And it was my turn to dig.

That’s a poem I wrote… You know, for English. Interpret it however you want.


I was sure I heard the sound of wings. Peering overhead, I could just make out the barest outline of avian wings against the milky white moon. I knew then that I was out of time.

Still, not one to bow to the inevitable, I forced myself the slightest bit faster, stretching my legs just the slightest bit further with each pace, my arms pumping just the slightest bit quicker. She wasn’t going to get me, not tonight. I wasn’t giving up without a fight.

My blood surged through my veins, my breaths were quick and desperate, but still my steps were silent as I zipped through the forest. No one could catch me tonight. I was on the top of my g-

“You’re mine!” A pair of hands slammed into my back and I lost my footing, falling to the ground with my attacker falling with me. A knee pressed into my back, and my arms were twisted behind me. Slowly, my attacker leaned forward, and their lips brushed against my ear as they whispered, “I win again.” She dropped my hands and stepped back with a smirk. “What’s that, 12 dozen wins?”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I groaned. “Sometimes when we’re playing this game, I feel like you forget it’s a game! I’m not prey for you to hunt!”

“Admit it,” she teased, “you enjoyed it. Now, come on. Get running! I’ll give you to the count of fifty this time.”

“I don’t need it!” I replied. “This time I’m going to win, Shelby, whether you’re flying or not!”

“Don’t count on it!” She called in a sing song-y voice as she took off into the forest, and with three wing beats she was in the air.

That is a short cutscene with Shelby and Kyle. It’s from Kyle’s point of view, and it’s called ‘Hide and Go Seek to the Extreme.’

In addition to those, I wrote an MLP Head cannon awhile ago that I don’t think I posted here. I’ll add that, too.


“… And they were never heard from again.” Ziggy surveyed the terrified faces of his friends, all huddled around their campfire. He grinned. “Sleep well!” Chuckling hoarsely, he retreated to his dark green tent.

There were scattered good-nights called across the clearing and nervous, shuffling steps as his friends, scared witless, crept to their tents. He chucked, rolled over in his sleeping bag, and promptly fell asleep.


Ziggy jolted up in his sleeping bag, gasping for breath. Sweat rolled in beads down his forehead, and blood dripped down his chin. He cursed quietly, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand. He’d bit his lip again in his sleep. “What woke me up?” He mumbled disjointedly, licking his lips. He crawled to the edge of tent, peering out. The night was clear and still, silent except for the gentle croak of peepers in the marsh.


Ziggy frowned, stepping from his tent. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and clicked on the flashlight. “Alright, who’s out there?” He called irritably. “You guys know it isn’t safe to be out here after dark alone! You’re gonna be caught by the Swamp Monster! You know he eats stray humans on dark, clear nights like this!” He added in a taunting voice. Somewhere off in the forest, there was a scream.

And Ziggy broke into a run. “Twist!” He yelled, sprinting towards her distant scream. “Twist!”

“Ziggy!” She screamed. “Help!”

Ziggy skid to a stop in front of a large oak. He was close to the swamp now, and the ground was muddy under foot. Every step made a sick sucking sound, the mud threatening to steal his shoes. A few feet in front of him was the item that had caused his expeditious halt- a few yards in front of him, there lay a bright orange toy pony. It perfectly matched the item dropped in his campfire horror story. It’s ear was tattered, and it was damp and covered in mud… exactly how it was described in the story.

Ziggy stumbled back, horrified. For a second, his fear overwhelmed his desire to get Twist. His heart was pounding in his ears, and each breath was a task.


Ziggy bolted towards where he’d last heard Twist’s voice. He was desperate to find her, and to escape from this nightmare he seemed to be living in. “Twist!”

“Ziggy? Is that you?” Tenor stumbled up to Ziggy, gasping for air. Blood trickled from a knick on his forehead. Clenched in his hand was a purple unicorn toy, spattered with mud. Ziggy’s blood ran cold. That was the next step in the campfire story. “Ziggy…” Tenor gasped, then collapsed at his friend’s feet. Ziggy yelped, jumping back. Tenor’s skin began to writhe and twist, and his lips parted to release an agonizing scream. The young man’s body convulsed, and his skin began to split… And once again, Ziggy took off running.

“Augh!” Ziggy landed on the ground with a cry. He scrambled to his feet, jerking around to see what he’d tripped on. His eyes widened with surprise and terror as he scrambled away, backing against a tree. There in the middle of the clearing, only a few yards from the frightened man sat a pale yellow and pink pegasus stuffie. It had a kindly smile on it’s soft face, yet it terrified Ziggy more than all the rest combined… For the yellow pegasus was the last thing the main character in the story saw before he was never heard from again.

The small toy’s eyes brightened and it’s face twisted into a demonic smile. “Welcome to the Everfree,” it whispered, it’s voice sickly sweet, spuriously soft. “And may your stay be a pleasant one.”

Ziggy turned and ran.

“You can’t escape!” The pegasus screamed after him. “My girls will never let you escape, nor your friends! You will stay with us, and you will enjoy it, because FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC!”

Ziggy heard a soft rustling to his left, and saw a glimpse of pink. He thought he heard a giggle. A sudden gust of wind disturbed the leaves above, and a flash of trailing rainbow streaked by. Ziggy knew the story. He knew what was going to happen… Or he thought he did. A white unicorn with dazzling blue eyes and dark purple mane and tail stepped out before him, her head lowered and eyes blazing.

Suddenly, Ziggy was trapped in place by the bright blue glow of her magic. His wild, terrified eyes darted this way and that, searching, seeking, desperate to find an expeditious means of escape. He saw none.

“My dear child.” A beautiful woman stepped in front of the white unicorn. Her face was gentle and serene, her hair flowed in a way that defied physics, as though it was held up by the stars themselves. Her creamy white toga- like dress clung to her perfect body in all the right ways, and her dazzling eyes entranced Ziggy. For a second, he lost all his fear.

And then he noticed the large white wings folded upon her back, the long white horn protruding from her forehead, and the unnatural colors of her hair… Pastel blue, pink, purple and green. Her earrings were tiny gold suns, and the shoulder of her toga dress was held together by a matching sun. The waist of her dress appeared to be a large, shimmering golden crown.

“There’s no need to fear, my little human,” the woman said softly, her voice tender, majestic, perfectly understanding. “You are safe with us. We will never let badness befall you.” The woman smiled. Her glittering teeth literally bathed the forest in light. “My name is Princess Celestia, and these brave ponies are my friends. You don’t understand how difficult it is to be put through the spells necessary to get to the human world at all, let alone as plush toys that can talk and change their shape to accommodate their needs. My point is, little human, that we need you. Our world is dying as more and more humans lose their belief in us, or turn to the twisted stories about mythological unicorns who are always male, and rape young girls. This is not true. We unicorns are really quite gentle…” The princess chuckled. “And quite obviously, dominated by females. We are, as you humans might say, in a pickle. That is in part why we need you. That is why we are here- to extend a warm, welcoming hand to you and your people. You are invited to live with us, in Equestria- you and all your friends.” The princess extended her hand towards Ziggy. “Will you join us?”

The young man was still mesmerized by her beauty, despite learning it was not her true form. He cared not. His human eyes and heart were treacherous, and he began to reach towards her, preparing to agree.

“Ziggy!” Twist screamed. “No!” Ziggy froze, jerking towards the voice of his beloved.

“Twist…” He whispered. He glanced uneasily towards the princess. She smiled at him, her looks tempting, taunting, seductive, nearly irresistible. But Twist was his love. Twist was his life. Twist didn’t want him to do this, to trust this woman. Twist never did anything to hurt Ziggy, so… This must be bad for him. He took a deep breath… And pulled back his hand.

“You fool!” The princess hissed. Ziggy flinched, believing she was talking to him, only to realize… She was addressing Twist. “Our race is dying, and you dare halt our only chance of revival? And you dare call yourself a unicorn! You were supposed to scout targets, you fool! You’ve ruined everything!”

“What…” Ziggy frowned, looking back to Twist. “Darling, what is she talking about?”
“No matter. Despite your efforts, we already have him… And your other friends, too. Did you really think we’d really give them the decision? Humans are foolish creatures, and wouldn’t know the right choice if it bit them in the rear!”
“No…” Twist gasped drawing back. “No! You can’t do this! Celestia, please! These beings have lives to live here, and others who care about them! What you are doing is wrong!”

“Letting our race die out is wrong!” The princess snapped. Her hair flared upwards, her eyes tinted a bright red. “Don’t you understand? We don’t have a choice!” The woman’s horn glowed a bright white, and light burst out over the forest. Ziggy screamed as the light pierced his chest, his skin began to ripple, to part. His thoughts were scrambled, his DNA altered, his very being changed. The unicorn mare released him from her spell, and he collapsed to the ground.
“No… Ziggy!” Twist, now a purple and black unicorn, sobbed over the writhing human, clearly in pain. She knew her other friends scattered throughout the forest would be going through the same, but she’d thought… She’d thought she could at least save him.

“Don’t worry, my little pony.” The princess, once again an alicorn, tapped Twist’s forehead with her horn. “Neither he nor any of his friends will remember this. No one will ever know what happened to them, and they will not remember who they once were. These humans, they are our last hope. They will save us from the Changeling encroachment. We will once again be a proud race.” She smiled.

“Our race will be based on lies, cheats, and slavery,” Twist snarled. “That’s not a society worth living in.”
“Don’t worry, darling. Only a hooveful will remember that… And you won’t be one of them.” The princess’ horn glowed white, and Twist screamed.

* * * * * * * *

“Okay, Ziggy, you can do this,” he whispered under his breath, keeping his eyes focused on the purple unicorn nearing the Lounge, the pony he’d been hooves over head for since he’d first laid eyes on her. “She’s just a pony. Remember that. The worst thing that can happen is she totally outright rejects you and leaves your heart crumpled in the dust…” Ziggy stopped abruptly, nearly running into the mare, who drew back in alarm.
“He-hey!” Ziggy forced a smile onto his face, but to Twist, it looked more like a grimace. “How… how’s it going?”
“Uh…” Twist took a nervous step back. “I’m not really supposed to talk to strangers, and you’re really strange.”
“Why do you say that?” Ziggy asked, offended. “Because I’m black?”
“You’re not all black,” Twist pointed out cautiously. “You’re a medley of colors.”
“Well, I’m a medley of things!” Ziggy replied, stomping his hoof and snorting. “I’m part zebra, part pony, part changeling! I can’t help that!”
“You could wear make-up?” Twist suggested, smiling. Something about the stallion intrigued her, despite her inhibitions.“Like, paint over your stripes…” She frowned. “No, actually, they suit you. Don’t paint over them. Hm…”
“See? It’s quite the predicament,” Ziggy said seriously. “Everything about me that makes me me is weird. What does that tell you about the kind of pony I am?”
“Well, not everything…” Twist smiled. “If you ignore the markings, you look like a normal stallion… You are a stallion, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I’m a stallion,” Ziggy replied flatly. “If you don’t mind, I have somewhere to be!”
“Do you?” Twist asked. “Cause it seemed to me you were coming to the Lounge. Did I scare you away?”
“Well-” Ziggy began.
Twist burst into laughter. “Me, scare you away? What a concept! Sometimes I say the dumbest things- I mean, you’re the freak show!” She stopped laughing abruptly. “I didn’t mean it like that!”
“I understand now why you’re single,” Ziggy said flatly. “I’m going to go brew up a spell now, if you don’t mind.”
“You really do that?” Twist gasped. “Can you brew me one?” She squealed.
“No, I don’t do that!” Ziggy snapped. “Just because I look weird doesn’t mean I’m a weirdo!”
“It kinda does,” Twist replied remorsefully. “You’re still upset with me. Look, maybe I can make it up for you.” She gestured towards the Lounge. “Maybe you wanna get a drink or something?”
“Well, I really shouldn’t…” Ziggy ducked his head, glancing at Twist out of the corner of his eye. She looked sincere. “But, since you’re offering, I can make the time.” He smiled his best charming smile and they walked together into the Lounge.

Celestia smiled. “You see, my little pony? I am not cruel. You may still have one another, even in this alternate form. I have made sure of that. And one day, when you remember… You will understand. When the Changelings are vanquished, you will understand. When we live in peace, you will understand.” The alicorn closed her eyes, a gentle smile playing on her lips. “And we have a greater following now than ever. Since we took over that human female’s brain and convinced her to write our stories for all the human population, we have gained many supporters…and for every supporter that a makes a ‘ponysona,’ we gain another pony to help. For every ponysona brings a piece of their selves with it as it enters our world. For every boy or girl who has seen our show,we get a piece of their soul, and these shall be called ‘Bronies,’ for the males, for they are our honorary brothers in ponyhood, and ‘pegasisters’ for their females, for they are our honorary wings in the sky, who can only lift us higher. Someday, my little pony, you will understand.”


I have more. Let’s read. Next: La Mort du Circue

“Matt. Hey, Matt!” Jenna hissed through the screen window irritably. “Matt, get out here!”

“Jenna, it’s midnight! Let me sleep!” Matt groaned. “It can wait until tomorrow!”

“Matt, it’s the circus!” Matt jumped out of bed and threw on his clothes, ran down the stairs and out the door. He slid to an abrupt halt before Jenna and grinned.

“The circus?” Jenna giggled.
“Yes, the circus! Come in!”

Matt and Jenna ran through the field that separated his home from the town central, towards the circus. Jenna could remember her first visit to the circus. She’d been five years old and tiny. Her dad had toted her around the fair grounds on his shoulders while she’d eaten ice cream and fair food. When they’d gone in to see the circus acts, she’d been mesmerized. The trapeze acts had been her favorite. She’d shrieked with glee and clapped with excitement and gladly thrown peanuts to the elephants when they came into the ring.

“We’re here.” Jenna’s focus shifted back to the present, with it’s bright neon strobe lights and loud, pumping band music.
“So we are.” Jenna grinned, practically shaking with excitement. “Let’s watch.”

The next morning Jenna and Matt woke up in the grass in front of the circus. Their faces and clothes were stained green with grass pulp, and their hair was a mess. The ground was imprinted with the shapes of their bodies. “Matt, the circus is starting!” Jenna squealed, jumping to her feet. “Come on!”

Matt groaned, throwing an arm over his face. “It’s too bright in here.”
“Out here, Matt,” Jenna laughed. “We’re outside.”
“What?” Matt shot to his feet, looking around madly. “Outside?”
“Yeah… ” Jenna frowned. “You’re in a lot of trouble, aren’t you?”
“Eh, maybe a little.” Matt sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “It doesn’t really matter…” Secretly, Matt didn’t mind staying out all night. It kept him away from the horror of waking up in his house with his strict stepmother and abusive father. The only thing that he regretted was the fact that he couldn’t have taken his little sister, Jade, with him.

The twosome trotted down towards the main circus tent, both beaming. The sky was clear and pure, the sun shone bright, the air was filled with the gay music of an organ and the pleasing scents of carnival food. Shouts of kids filled the air as they played the cheesy circus games and won the silly toy prizes and brightly colored gold fish that swam in the little bowls. All the twosome cared about, though, was getting to see the main act… The circus itself.

“Matt, look!” Jenna grabbed his arm, pulling him to an abrupt halt. “They lost their dog! Isn’t that sad?”
“I bet we could find it,” Matt smirked. “And look at the reward! Ten grand! I can’t believe it’s worth that much!”
“I hope he’s okay! I just couldn’t stand it if the poor little guy got hurt… Anyone that hurts animals deserves to be shot!” Jenna exclaimed suddenly, caught up in a fit of passion.
“Let’s not be rash,” Matt chuckled. “Let’s just find… Ah, let’s see- Arf.”
“His name is Arf?” Jenna chuckled. “What an original name.”

“Isn’t it?” A girl called from behind them. Jenna sighed, rolling her eyes. Not her again! She thought.
“Hello, Meg,” Matt greeted, his voice falsely cheerful. “How are you today?”
“Yeah, cut the small talk,” Meg said dryly, “I didn’t come over here to chat. We-” she gestured to her three friends Siberia, Kira, and Avery. “Are going to find that dog, and we are going to collect the ten grand. So don’t get any ideas.” She flicked the butt of her used cigarette at Jenna, who yelped, jumping back. Meg chuckled. “Bye.” She turned on her heels and they walked away.

“Maybe she’s right and we shouldn’t look…” Jenna sighed, rubbing her wrist where the burning side of the cigarette butt had hit her.
“They have no right, and no need, for the prize money,” Matt replied tersely, more determine than ever. “We will be the ones who find that dog!”

“I’m hungry,” Jenna said softly, looking around the meadow. It had been three hours since the confrontation with the girls. In that time they’d run to Jenna’s house, where Matt had packed a backpack filled with stuff, although he wouldn’t show Jenna what. She just hoped he’d packed some food. “So,” Jenna cleared her throat, poking Matt in the small of his back. “What are we doing?”

“We are catching a dog,” Matt replied softly. He swung the backpack off his back and onto the ground, kneeling down next to it. “One circus dog coming up.” He unzipped the bag and calmly removed a bag of cold chicken, a can of cat food and a nylon slip lead.

“Cat food?” Jenna asked.

“It’s smellier than dog food,” Matt explained. “The dog will be able to smell the food better.”
“Let’s go catch us one circus dog!” Jenna cried enthusiastically. Matt laughed.
“That’s the spirit; let’s go!” Matt popped open the top of the can and they crept through the tall grass, calling the dogs name softly as they went.

“Did you hear that?” Jenna whispered. “I think it was a dog.”
“I didn’t hear anything!” Matt complained.
“Here, gimme!” Jenna grabbed the can of food from his hand and tiptoed forward. “Arf!” She called softly. “Arf, are you- Matt, oh my god!” Jenna cried.
“What, what’s wrong?” Matt exclaimed running up beside her.
“Look,” Jenna whispered, pointing to a mound of brown and black fur a few yards in erring of them. There lay Arf, his fur a mess of clumped blood. There were obvious slashes on his side- red, angry, infected scratches- and painful pricks over his face.

“Poor baby,” Matt gasped. “Hey buddy, you gonna let me help you?” Matt crawled the last few steps towards the dog wearily. Hurt dogs often lash out in fear when they feel threatened, and Matt didn’t want to lose an arm or a leg. But he hadn’t needed to worry; the dog wasn’t conscious. Matt jerked off his sweatshirt and carefully wrapped it around the dog. Careful not to shake him too much, Matt lifted the dog into his arms.

“Can you carry him yourself?” Jenna asked fretfully, fussing at the jacket around the dog’s face. She was alarmed to see blood was already seeping through the thick fabric.

“I can carry him, but we need to get him home as fast as possible. Her,” Matt grunted, shifting the dog to only one arm for a second as he reached into his back pocket. He procured a gun and held it out to Jenna, handle forward. “Can you take that?”

“Matt,” Jenna said uneasily, “Why do you have a gun?”

“Took it from my dad,” he replied with a shrug. “Better I have it than him, right?”

“I suppose… But why would you need it?”

“Jenna.” Matt looked her evenly in the eye. “Just trust me. It’s better off in my hands than my dads. You know that.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I suppose I do.” Jenna sighed, remembering back to the first time she’d seen Matt’s dad in action. She’d come over after school to bring Matt his homework, as he’d been absent that day. She’d called out his name, hoping he’d come out to get his stuff so she could talk to him and then leave. Instead, his father had fired a round of bullets off after her. She’d taken off like a shot. “You’re not planning on using it though, right?”

“Jenna, the only way I’d ever shoot anyone- or anything- is if completely necessary. Okay? Now stop worrying and take my back pack, will you?”

“Stop right there!” Jenna and Matt both spun around at the sound of a gun being taken out of safety. “That’s my dog you’re stealing. Put him down. Now!” The man roared. Jenna vaguely recognized him from the circus posters, which had bragged he how he was ‘the greatest dog trainer on earth!’ Jenna scowled. To her, it seemed he was a big, drunk man who hurt his animals and yelled at kids.

“We didn’t steal your dog,” Matt said calmly, moving to put the dog down. “We found it, in the woods. There’s a missing poster at your circus. We were just trying to help.” Jenna grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it hard.

“Don’t put the dog down,” she hissed.

“Jenna, it’s his dog!” Matt balked. “We can’t just take it!”

“Look at the poor thing! It’s hardly alive because someone practically filleted his skin! And this man- this big, loud, drunk man- is holding a gun on us! Do you really think that the gun and the cuts on the dog weren’t caused by the same thing?”

“Jenna, guns don’t cut-”

“I meant the man!” She snapped. She lifted her head, boldly challenging the man with her eyes. “You’re never getting this dog back,” she snarled, taking a half step forward.

“Oh yes I will,” the man growled.
“Over my dead body.” Jenna smirked, crossing her arms.

“So be it,” the man returned with a savage smile. He cocked the gun and pulled the trigger. Jenna screamed as the bullet tore through the flesh of her shoulder, the force of the impact sending her sprawling. She gasped in pain, clutching at her arm. She’d never expected he’d actually shoot her!

“Hey!” Matt yelled. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I’m getting back what’s mine,” the man growled loading another bullet into his fun,” even if it means plowing through the two of yous.”

“Not today, pal,” Matt growled, grabbing his gun back from Jenna. She groaned when he touched her hand. “Hang in there,” he murmured.

“Don’t do this, Matt,” Jenna whimpered. “Don’t shoot him! Don’t lower yourself to his level!”

“This,” Matt smirked, “is what a true guns an looks like.” He aimed, cocked, and pulled the trigger. The bullet killed the man instantly.

Matt tossed the gun to the ground and hurried back over to Jenna. “Jenna, are you okay? Jenna, talk!”

“You killed him,” she whispered, pulling herself to a sitting position with a wince. “Matt, y killed him!”

“Jenna, I had to,” Matt soothed, reaching out to touch her unhurt arm. She immediately slapped him away.

“Matt, you are just like your father,” Jenna whispered. Matt gasped in pain, instantly withdrawing. His face suddenly hardened.

“Fine,” he said coldly. “If you think saving your life, the dog’s life and my life wasn’t worth the life of an animal abuser, then you’re the idiot here. Clearly, you’re not thinking straight through your pain.”

“Matt, you just killed someone!” Jenna yelled. “You’re the one who’s not thinking straight!” With a sound of disgust Matt got up and turned, walking away.

An hour later police arrived at the scene. Jenna was unconscious from blood loss, the dog had died, and crows had already started picking at the ring leader’s corpse. They bagged the two guns they found and took Jenna to the hospital and the man to the police morgue. To this day, Jenna hasn’t woken up. To this day, no one has figured out what happened. To this day, Matt hasn’t been caught.


Here’s a short prompt I wrote about Tanesha and Bo. It isn’t actually finished, but what the heck. Enjoy it anyways.

Tanesha watched the rain through her living room window, her knees to her chest, feeling glum. It was exactly four months since she’d been married, and so far things hadn’t exactly gone how she’d wanted. First, her husband, Bo, had gotten a promotion at work and was now never home. She knew he had an important job- general surgeon at the public hospital- but she was still lonely. Secondly, her sister had suddenly decided she wanted to be part of her life again,and new beginnings were always tense, especially when her sister also had no time, as she was a world champion gamer, and was always busy ‘practicing’… AKA playing video games. Also, she sucked at cooking, and it took four tries to get an edible meal together for when her husband came home.

“Nothing is going to get done if you just sit around,” she muttered, slowly unfolding her legs from beneath her, standing. Just then, the phone rang. Slowly, Tanesha strode over to the phone, lifting it to her ear. “Yaden residence, Tanesha speaking. How may I help you?”

“Tany, it’s me, Bo.” She could hear his excitement in the rapidity of his breath, in the high pitched edge in his voice. She smiled.

“Hey, Bo… ” she tucked a lock of purple hair behind her ear, adjusting her grip on the phone. “What’s up?”

“I’ll be home in a few minutes, but I couldn’t wait to tell you. I have a surprise… Baby, we’re going on a cruise!”

“Eh, what?” Tanesha replied dumbly, startled. “A cru- But you have to work!”

“See, that’s the thing. I’ve been doing too much work lately, and I think we deserve a vacation. Just the two of us, on that cruise ship, together, for a week. They have jet skiing, swimming with dolphins, endless buffets, um… Well, it’s gonna be fun!”

“Sounds like it.” Tanesha licked her lips slowly, wondering if this vacation was really the best idea. “Where is the cruise going to be?”

“The Caribbean,” he replied with a smile. “It will be amazing- lots of sun, and we’ll even be stopping by a tropical island… You know, complete with the white sand, palm trees and parrots? It’ll be perfect!”

“Sun, tropical island, ocean, parrots…” Tanesha glowered out the porthole of her cabin. It had been pouring rain for the past four days she’d been on vacation. All she could see was thick mist, and the sea was choppy, making even relaxing in her cabin unpleasant. She’d discovered that she got seasick easily.
“Don’t worry, love. I’m sure it’ll get better. After all, we have four more days!” Bo smiled, hoping his wife would cheer up. As everyone knows, if the wife is unhappy, the whole family is unhappy.

“Honestly, I don’t see how this could get any worse!” Tanesha griped. “Three days of pitching, swaying oceans and thundering rain… We should have stayed home! I can’t think of a single thing that could make my mood worse!”

That’s when the sirens went off- big, red lights in every room and hall started to flash, emergency alarms blaring. The Captain’s voice came on over the speaker system; “All passengers please report to the main deck for emergency evacuation! This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill!”

“Looks like things just did,” Bo replied wearily. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, then got to his feels. “Grab your essentials and let’s get moving. We don’t want this to be our last memory.” He scowled, throwing a few outfits into a suitcase, along with his toothbrush, razor, and a few other necessities. “Come on!”

Muttering under her breath, cursing the ship, the world, and the weather, Tanesha gathered her favorite outfits into a suitcase, along with hygienic supplies, her cell phone, and a bag of her favorite snacks. “Ready,” she grumbled.

“Great, let’s go!” Up on the main deck, it was chaos. The rain was coming down in sheets, lightning struck every two seconds on the horizon, and thunder was a constant backdrop for the whole scene, along with the frenzied yells of terrified passengers, sure that they would soon die.

“Over there! I see a lifeboat!” Tanesha yelled, pointing.

“Let’s go.” Bo grabbed her hand and plowed through the crowd, gritting his teeth against the cold rain driving into his skin. His hair was drenched in seconds, but they made it to the boat. “Get in, Tany,” he ordered.

“Alright.” Tanesha knew better than to argue with him when he was like this, so she climbed into the lifeboat without complaint.

“Miss?” The man in the boat addressed her, his face quite severe. “No luggage, I’m afraid. We need as much room as possible for passengers.”


“No buts!”

“Still enough room?” Bo clambered into the boat, lugging his suitcase.

“Enough for you, but not for the bag, Mate,” the man replied sternly. “Over it goes.”
“If we can’t bring our bags, then there won’t be enough supplies for everyone!” Bo sputtered. “This is absurd!”

“Right now we’re worrying about living. We’ll get to the other stuff later.” And with that, the man grabbed his bag and pitched it overboard.

Have any of you read ‘The Cask of Amontillado’? Well, I did, for class, and we had to rewrite the ending. Here it is.

“Why are you doing this?” Fortunato rasped, mournful longing evident in his voice. Montressor’s wall was up to seven layers of brick. Fortunate knew that he wouldn’t make it out alive. “If I’m going to die, I at least have the right to know why.”

“You say you don’t know,” Montressor snarled viciously, wiping brick dust from his forehead. “Adding insult to injury, man! Not a wise choice for one who is getting such an easy death. There are worse ways to die than this.”

“Insult to injury is not my intention, and I’ll die whether you tell me or not.”
Montressor sighed, sitting back on his heels. He laid the trowel on the ground, glanced in at Fortunato, then sat back against the nitre soaked walls of the catacomb. He closed his eyes, and he remembered. Back to when he and Fortunato were but lads together in the school of their youth. Their merchant parents, too, were friends. Friendship ran in their blood. Until the year where their youth bloomed into young manhood, and everything about their friendship changed. Until Fortunato swooped in and stole everything Montressor had worked so hard to make happen. In a single night, Montressor had gone from a giddy young lad with his child sweetheart on his arm to the darkened, ever mounting ball of fury that was committing the deed that was set before him this day.
It was early spring of their seventeenth year, and Montressor was on cloud nine. For the past few years, he had been courting the prettiest girl in town, a fair maiden by the name of Peggy Anne. She was the blacksmith’s daughter. She had bright, energetic green eyes like a cat’s and short, cropped brown hair like a mouse. She’d cut it the year before in protest to her father’s attempt to marry her off to a rich lord in the south. No lord will take a wife so wild and uncontrolled that she chops off her own hair as a sign of rebellion. All that she’d done to stay with him. And today… Well, today was the day that Montressor made her his own. He was strolling up the cobbled path to her father’s blacksmithery when he saw her. His breath caught in his throat. She was so beautiful. He beamed. She was laughed, her face alight like he had never seen before. He jogged towards her, clutching the ring in his hand, excited. “Peggy!” He’d yelled. She’d turned at the sound of his voice. Her smile faltered. She looked wearily into her fathers shop, then walked solemnly towards him… With Fortunato right behind. Fortunato’s eyes mocked Montressor as they walked towards him, sparkling with mischief and pride. He had won. Somehow in the course of a day, he’d stolen Peggy from him. “Imagine seeing you here, Montressor.” His voice was even more slick than his hair. Montressor recognized it as his victory voice. He smiled coyly, putting his arm around Peggy’s shoulder. “Have I told you the fine tidings? We are to be wed.”

“-will they not be waiting for us at the Palazzo, Lady Fortunato and the rest?” Montressor’s head jerked up. He’d almost finished the whole wall. This dastardly deed was almost complete. His eyes narrowed. Then, after a second, he smiled, a dark, ghoulish smile.
“Certainly she will be.” His thoughts pitched forward to the many long days and nights he fore visioned of them spending time together, he and ‘Lady Fortunato.’ Peggy Anne. His envisionments of once again winning her love, and of making her his once again. Of their marriage, and they children they’d have, for they were still young- only twenty-seven and twenty- four, respectively. They would live a good long life together, and no one would ever know what happened to poor, poor, Mr. Fortunato. Except him, and he wouldn’t tell.

Later, his deed done, Montressor strode out of the catacombs with a skip in his step and a secret in his heart. Almost instantly he ran into Lady Fortunato, and his mood was further lifted. “Shall we dance?” He asked with a feral grin. Peggy smiled.


I think that’s all the writing I haven’t shown you yet. However, I have drawn some pictures. For those, you’ll have to check my deviantar, though, haha.

Have a great week! Don’t eat too much turkey, or you might explode! Stay chewy!


About ProjectPerfection

This year, my last of highschool, this blog will be used as prep for NaNoWriMo and hopefully will keep me on track through all of it. Feel free to drop me a line anytime.
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