Hanna- 100 Word Scene

Hanna sat at the dinner table with Beth and her father. Three people at a rectangular table was an awkward number, always left an open space that should have been filled. When Graham visited he filled that space.

“How was school?”

The perfunctory question came from her father, too tired from a long day to come up with something a little more original. They were the first words he’d spoken to her since arriving home. Beth had called her to dinner.

“Fine,” she answered, putting as little thought into her answer as he had the question. “It was fine.”

Hanna- Setting

Hanna stood alone in her kitchen. The window above the sink let bright light stream in, illuminating the dishes that had been left there from breakfast. The counters were clear and bare of any food or utensils. The cabinet doors were all shut tight, except for the one with the crooked door that hung off kilter from the rest.

Hanna sank into one of the wooden chairs around the table. It stood straight and sturdy with a stiff back that she couldn’t comfortably lean against. The table was covered in a blue tablecloth and the cereal box from her breakfast hadn’t been put away yet.

No one had been there since she’d left that morning and it was late afternoon. Hanna glanced toward the refrigerator, the only part of the room with any kind of personality. It was covered in magnets, some hers from her childhood and some belonging to her older stepbrother who lived across the country. There were pictures too, but only one of the whole family together. It had been taken at the wedding four years before. Graham had been twenty and he had his hands on twelve year old Hanna’s shoulders. Beth and her father stood on either side of them and all were smiling. A seashell magnet obscured part of Beth’s dress.

Sighing, Hanna stood. She needed to clean out the sink before anyone else came home.

Indirect Characterization- Hanna

Hanna was at the pool with all her friends and she was worried. She hadn’t left a note and her father was getting off of work soon. He didn’t like it when she went out with her friends and didn’t let anyone else know. He was strict in that way and Lacey never seemed to understand that.

Hanna didn’t like making her father upset, especially after a long day at work. It would be best for everyone if she managed to convince Lacey to take her home early, but it seemed no matter how hard she tried Lacey was just too stubborn.

Hanna could be stubborn too when she wanted to be. Having Beks or Ashton to back her up would have helped, but they both spent their days at the pool flirting with any cute guys they could find. She was often on her own when it came to arguing her own side.

After a bit of arguing she convinced Lacey to drive her back home, although Lacey didn’t seem too happy about it. All Hanna wanted was to get home and avoid getting into trouble. She never understood why her friends didn’t get things like that. It made her feel isolated sometimes.

Direct Characterization- Hanna

Hanna bit her lip. “I think I should go,” she said, her voice quiet.

“What? No! We’ve got loads of time.” Lacey leaned back on the towel, dark shades covering much of her face.

“Dad will be home soon and he doesn’t like it when I go without leaving a note.”

“That’s crap. You’re sixteen. Plenty old enough to come down to the pool with us.” Us included Beks and Ashton, both flirting in the pool with a group of senior boys.

“I don’t- I should just go, okay?”

Lacey shrugged. “Suit yourself. Have fun walking.”

“You have a car. It’ll take ten minutes. Won’t you just drive me?”

There was a break in the conversation. Then- “Let’s go see the boys. I bet one or two of them can change your mind.”

“That’s not- Lace, don’t! Just drive me? You don’t even have to get dressed. You’ll be back before they notice you’re gone.”

Lacey looked at the pool, then back at Hanna. She sighed. “Your Dad’s really gonna flip?”

Hanna nodded.

“Fine. But I swear, tomorrow I’m not letting you bail early.” She grabbed her keys and Hanna breathed a small sigh of relief.

“Anything,” Hanna promised.

Character- Hanna

Character name: Hanna Jocelyn McDowell

Date of Birth: January 13, 1997 (age 16)

Place of Birth: Simsbury, Connecticut

Physical attributes: 5’4, 140 pounds, straight auburn hair, pale skin with many freckles covering her face and body, not very athletic, dark brown eyes, thin lips, small nose

Some likes: Pop music, watching the day fade into night from her window, summer, history is her best class because it’s straightforward without requiring the same problem solving strategies as math

Some dislikes: Sports, being left out, falling behind, asking for help, being alone, her red hair, loud rock/punk/metal, English class because she feels it’s too convoluted and complicated with all kinds of metaphors and symbols

What is the one thing in this world (or realm) that this character wants more than anything?

Hanna wants to be something more than average. She wants to stand out, be the best at something. She wants to be the prettiest or the smartest or even the most charismatic, but finds herself lacking and coming in third or fourth best. Hanna sees other people’s strengths, but not her own.
She regrets never finding a true best friend or someone to whom she can be number one. Within her core group of friends she often feels like a fifth wheel and thinks that she gets left out when they spend time together individually or hang out in pairs instead of the whole group.

What is the one thing in this world (or realm) that this character regrets more than anything?She regrets never finding a true best friend or someone to whom she can be number one. Within her core group of friends she often feels like a fifth wheel and thinks that she gets left out when they spend time together individually or hang out in pairs instead of the whole group.

Nightmares

The Prompt: In this dream I was...

In this dream I was screaming. The walls of fire surrounded me, cutting off any route of escape. The heat of the flames seared my skin as they burned closer. My body felt painfully dry and tight and all I wanted was to escape. But the fire was a circle around me and there was no way out. I was trapped. So I continued to scream.

“Peyton, wake up already!”

I jolted up in my bed and stared at my roommate with shock on my face. When the realization sunk in, I reddened from embarrassment. “Sorry,” I muttered, wiping the sleep from my eyes. It was early afternoon and all I had wanted was a quick nap since I hadn’t been sleeping well at night. I’d been plagued with nightmares for the past two weeks and the circles under my eyes showed it. I needed some restful sleep.

“You okay?” Michaela asked. “That sounded…rough.”

I hadn’t thought it was possible, but my face got even redder. I’d been screaming in the dream, I remembered that much, but I sincerely hoped I hadn’t actually been screaming. “Was it really that loud?”

“Uh…” Michaela seemed hesitant to answer. “I’m sure no one could hear you outside of the room.”

Great. That was just what I needed. For our entire hall, scratch that, entire floor to know I was a psycho with nightmares all the time. I’d have to figure out some way to stop them. Just bloody brilliant. Exactly what I needed the week before midterms.

“You gonna be okay?” Michaela asked. She sounded worried and I nodded, plastering a smile on my face.

“Sure. Just have to study. All this stress is playing with my head.” That might have even been true. I’d never really had nightmares before, but it was my first set of midterms in college ever. Maybe it really was just the stress. If I spent more time studying and worried less the nightmares might go away. That made perfect sense.

“I think I’ll go to the library,” I said, ignoring Michaela’s questioning look. “Quieter. Better for studying. Have to ace chem..”

“Right.” She nodded.

I packed up my bag, grabbing both lab books and textbooks for the library. I didn’t really prefer studying in the library, but I also didn’t want see Michaela anymore. I was too embarrassed to be around her. This was the second time in a week that she’d woken me up screaming from a nightmare. I sincerely hoped it would be last, but I couldn’t face her now. Going to the library was just an easy excuse.

“Good luck,” she said. “You know, with the studying and stuff.”

After two months we still weren’t close friends and a bit awkward around each other so I ducked my head. “Yeah, thanks.”

“And uh, it’s okay, you know. About the nightmares and stuff.” My faced burned. “Yeah, I know. Just—studying calls. Gotta hit the books.” I stumbled out of the room red in the face and closed my eyes in relief. I had to find a way to make the nightmares stop. Somehow.

Underwater

The Prompt: They came out under water.

It was the summer before they turned seventeen, in the pool in Lia’s backyard. Their skins were a deep golden brown from the weeks spent tanning. Together they swam and laughed, acting like the best of friends. And they were.

But in that moment, in the blue water that smelled vaguely of chlorine, they were more. They took hands almost instinctively, staring into each other’s eyes with a feeling neither could define, but both recognized. It was less than love, but more—different—than friendship.

Words between the two didn’t need to be spoken. They just understood. Their eyes open under the surface they could see what the other felt in a clear way they never could on dry land. It filtered out the lies, their facades, and left just them, naked to each other. Their fingers wove together and they drew nearer, intrigued by the new feelings. The lust and desire. They didn’t need to reason, talk things over. They just knew. They just felt. The just were.

Closer and closer their faces came as they drifted under the water. Their hair rose and circled their heads, one brown and one red. They were free, free to experience everything they truly felt away from judgment and fear.

But the chlorine began to burn their eyes. The water felt heavy over their heads as the pressure built. Their chests felt like they were going to burst from lack of air and they pulled apart, disentangling their hands as they did. They both pushed against the bottom and shot up, breaking the surface of the pool as they gasped for breath and gratefully filled their lungs with oxygen.

Once more they were separate, not touching or even looking at each other, but no longer quite the same. The moment was over, but they hadn’t ended. It wasn’t the same as it was before. The one moment, alone under the water, had changed everything. Even as they breathed in deep gulps of oxygen, so distant from the blue depths below, they had changed. They didn’t take hands again, but as they moved around the pool their fingers brushed.

Words were never exchanged, not a one, but they weren’t needed. The girls just understand each other.

They left the pool completely, hair dripping as they returned to their towels and lay out in the bright summer sun. As their hair began to dry the girls turned to each other, their smiles shy and small across their faces. They could see through the other’s walls now, see what they really felt since the moment under the water, but it was muted, no longer blaringly obvious. Softer in a way.

And they reached out with their hands as they lay side by side and wove their fingers together. The innocent gesture was all they needed as they closed their eyes against the bright glare and continued on with their lives, the rest of the world oblivious to the moment that had just passed under the water.

So Sorry

The Prompt: The phone rings and rings and rings in the middle of the night.  It keeps ringing after the machine picks up.  Finally you answer it—groggy, irritated, and befuddled.  It’s the call we all dread and yet know will come more than once in our lives … The narrator’s (closest friend, lover, parent, brother, sister, you decide who to kill…) was in an accident, is at the hospital, and will not last until morning.  He or she dresses furiously, jumps in his or her car, get to the hospital, cursing at the slowness of traffic, and the stupidity of parking attendants, and arrives at the person’s bedside.  What happens next?  

He had been running, speeding, doing everything at top speed to get there as fast as possible, but he slowed the moment he reached the door. He shut it softly behind him before even looking at the bed.

She was there, just as they said she’d be. It took a moment for the recognition to hit. There were so many tubes, IVs, just things sticking out of her that beeped at regular intervals. He wasn’t a doctor, didn’t know the medical equipment, but even he could tell that it looked bad. It looked really bad.

“Jamie, are—” His voice cracked as he hurried to the side of the bed.

Her eyes were closed and she didn’t rouse at the sound of his voice. She just continued to lay there, unmoving. His hands found hers, one of the only parts of her body not marred in some way from the accident. Her face was cut and bruised, everything visible in some way hindered. But her hand was clear.

She seemed so small and fragile in the bed, the machines dwarfed her. He stroked her hand gently, his thumb over the back. “Oh god, Jamie,” he murmured quietly.

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he even should say anything. If she could hear him. In movies didn’t they always say the unconscious patients could hear what was said? He didn’t know, but it couldn’t hurt.

“Jamie, it’s me. It’s—it’s Ben. I’m here.” He stopped. There was no response. It wasn’t as though he’d been expecting one, but one-sided conversations didn’t often workl. There was always going to be that pause. The pause where a response should have been.

“I’ll be here, okay? For as long as you’re here, I will be too.”

He meant in the hospital, but the second meaning hit him hard. They’d said on the phone she wouldn’t last until morning, but doctors were wrong all the time, weren’t they? Miracles happened. He wasn’t much the praying type, but he knelt his head beside the bed and said a silent prayer in his head. If Jamie could hear what he said, he didn’t want her to know how close she was to the edge.

When he finished he looked back at her, no sign of a change. The steady beeping continued. A tear trickled down his cheek and he wiped it away. He was the strong one, the shoulder to cry on. He had to be strong for her.

“You’re going to get through this,” he whispered fiercely. It wasn’t a lie, he didn’t see it as such. He was going to pull her through this with everything it took. “You’re going to be fine.”

Her eyelids fluttered and his heart jolted with hope, but the steady beeping of the machine evened out into a single long note.

He jerked at the sudden noise. A few nurses hurried into the room and he was pushed out of the way. “What—what’s going on?” He asked desperately.

The question was ignored as he pulled back to the door. “Is she—she’s okay right? She’s got to be okay.”

He didn’t know what the nurses were doing, but they stopped after a minute. One turned to him with pity in her eyes and he shook his head. “She’s gotta be okay. She just—she has to be.”

“I’m sorry,” the nurse said, shaking her head.

His stomach sank and for a moment he couldn’t think, couldn’t even feel his extremities. His whole body felt numb. “Jamie,” he murmured under his breath. He couldn’t look at the bed. Didn’t want to see her like that. “I’m so sorry.”

Letting Go

The prompt: You come home late at night, after a hard day. The message light on the answering machine is blinking. You press play and listen. "Dumping you on graduation day was the worst mistake of my life. Terry and I didn’t work out—Terry—was the second worst mistake. I will be at La Petite tonight at eight. I asked the chef to prepare a lemon soufflé, and to put white tulips—your favorites—on the table. Please, please, come."

I froze, my hand hovering over the phone to delete the message. It had been years since I’d heard from Lynn. We hadn’t spoken since graduation day itself which had been one of the worst days of my life. And now to have it all coming back three years later, after I’d moved on and made a new life.

“So..” Anna stood in the doorway, the dark shadows obscuring her face. I looked at her in surprise. None of the lights had been on in our apartment and I hadn’t known she was standing there until she spoke. I hoped she hadn’t heard the message, or at least all of it.

Lynn hadn’t been her favorite person back when she and I were a couple, but after she’d broken up with me at graduation Anna’s feelings had grown stronger. “Hey!” I said, pasting a smile on my face. If Anna hadn’t heard I wasn’t going to tell her. It would only make things worse between us.

She frowned and glanced at the machine. My stomach churned. “Are you gonna go?”

So she had heard the whole thing. Or at least enough of it to get the gist. “What? Things with Lynn aren’t- I mean we haven’t spoken in-” I stumbled over my words trying to find a way to tell Anna what I was thinking. It was especially difficult considering even I didn’t know what I was thinking. Everything happened so quickly. I hadn’t had the chance to process yet. And Lynn, I’d been in love with Lynn. It was all those years ago, but I couldn’t quite shake the strength of what I felt for her.

“You’re going to go, aren’t you?” Anna sounded sad, not upset but resigned to the fact that it was out of her control.

That made my decision. “She dumped me at graduation, left me with mascara streaks on all my pictures and a summer that was suddenly too open. I’m not going back to her. I wouldn’t ever leave you for her.”

Anna took a step closer to me, coming out of the shadows and looked up into my eyes. “I don’t want to keep you from her if she’s going to make you happy. I don’t want to be that girlfriend, to guilt you into staying.”

“You’re not!” I burst out. I calmed myself and continued in a lower tone. “I want to be with you and I made that decision a year ago. I didn’t choose you as my backup.” In an attempt to convince her I pushed the delete button on the answering machine, clearing away Lynn’s voice for good. “There, see? It’s all gone.”

Anna smiled gratefully and her face relaxed for the first time that evening. I was glad that she was happy, but I couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge. For so long I had wanted nothing more than to receive a phone call like that, for Lynn to beg my forgiveness. It wasn’t what I wanted anymore, but still hard to let go completely.

I pushed these thoughts out of my head and matched Anna’s smile with my own. That was all in the past. I was happy here and now with Anna. That was all that mattered.

Study Break

The Prompt: Eavesdrop on a conversation and write what happens later.

She hastily brushed her thin brown hair out of her eyes as she bent over the book, intent on her studies. There was a test on Wednesday and she couldn’t seem to focus on the vocabulary. The words were beginning to swim together in her head. It didn’t help that whatever idiots lived on the floor above her were blasting some kind of heavy metal, the words dulled by the walls until nothing but the thumping bass remained. It wasn’t so much that she minded the music itself, she just wanted a break from it while she studied. It was apparent that they didn’t have a test any time in the near future, or at least they didn’t care if they did. Meghan didn’t have that luxury. French was one of the hardest classes she’d ever had to take, followed shortly by biology. This was her last semester of French, but biology was going to follow her for the next two years unless she managed to stand up to her father.

“Okay, you definitely need a break,” Jackie said. She pulled out her headphones and moved away from her computer. “I know that sigh.”

“What sigh?” Meghan asked. She hadn’t been aware of making any noise.

Jackie ignored the question. “Your dad called again, didn’t he?”

Meghan shrugged and glanced back down at her notes. “I just have to focus on this French tonight. I can’t afford to, well, you know.” Formulating the word ‘fail’ was sometimes too much for her. She’d done well enough in high school, but college classes were different. Freshman year was the first time she’d ever failed anything in her life. Now she was constantly worried about French and biology. She’d done poorly enough on some tests and labs already. She had to shape up or risk her GPA.

“You’re stressing too much. Don’t psych yourself out. Take an hour and unwind.” Jackie surveyed her roommate with a critical eye. “And get your damn father out of your head.”

“I had my unwinding time earlier when I went to dinner. Now it’s time to focus.” Meghan smoothed the edges of her vocabulary list and read the first line over again. She just needed to get these words down so she could move onto verb tenses and prepare for her bio lab on Thursday. The paper was pulled from out of her grasp and Meghan shot out of her chair, a scowl on her face. “Oy!”

“You are going to relax for exactly one hour before I give this back, capiche?” Jackie held the paper over her head and Meghan rolled her eyes. It was more than a touch dramatic, although Jackie had tendencies towards melodrama. “One hour of your life, it’s not a lot in the long run.”

“Go to hell,” Meghan muttered. She could have easily switched to studying verb tenses or even to her bio lab, but it irked her to leave a task unfinished.

“Just an hour, I swear. Put all this school stuff out of your mind and enjoy a Friday night for once,” Jackie pleaded. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

The offer should have been tempting, but all Meghan wanted was to move on with her studying. There were more important things than an evening of relaxing alone. Classes, for one. “Give it back. Now.” Her tone was harsh, but there was a long moment when she thought Jackie would keep the vocabulary hostage. Instead her roommate shrugged and let go, allowing the paper to fall back to the desk and land askew on the textbook.

“Fine. Be an old stick the mud boring adult.” Jackie jammed her headphones back on and turned up her music so loud Meghan could hear it from across the room. She sighed once more and shook her head. Maybe she was a boring adult, but Jackie could sure act the immature child at times. Yet still she managed grades that were at least as good as Meghan’s. Some people didn’t have to work as hard as others.

She fixed the paper on her desk, laying it straight before she went back to memorizing the words. There would be time for fun later, Meghan promised herself. After the test.

Starting Over

The Prompt: Describe a lake or river as seen by a young man or woman who has just committed a murder. Do not mention the murder.


It was early still. The sun shone high in the sky and reflected across the calm surface of the lake. It beat down on her, warming her skin until beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. She slid off her shoes and dangled her feet over the edge of the rough wooden dock, her toes just barely grazing the water. It was murky beneath the dock, impossible to see more than a few inches below the surface, not that she tried very hard. She preferred to ignore the uglier depths that lay just out of sight. Straining to see something that would mar the beauty of the lake seemed pointless to her.

She allowed her gaze to drift across to the opposite shore. The edge of the ground blended into the lake, but she couldn’t see just where the change from water to land occurred. Trees dotted the earth around the rim and plants grew dark and thick into the water itself. That was where they blurred together. She couldn’t discern a difference, couldn’t separate them. They wove together and intermingled until her eyes grew weary of staring and she was forced to blink and look away. That was how people changed too. Slowly, imperceptible to anyone watching, then suddenly they were a different person. Looking back, that one moment where he stopped being himself was lost in a sea of other memories.

A duck glided across the water and sent ripples toward the docks. She toed the water, sending a small splash in its direction, but the duck was too far away to even acknowledge the intrusion. The simple, playful act brought a small smile to her lips. She should have been more affected by everything that had happened, at the very least shouldn’t she feel some remorse? Guilt? She felt nothing except a sick sense of relief. It had been a long time coming. And now she was here, watching the lake as the day slowly passed. The gentle movement of the water kept her calm and relaxed, perhaps for the first time in years. There were others around, families with young children, and yet she felt secure on her perch on the dock. No one looked at her and saw anything other than a woman simply enjoying the view. The past was ancient history now. She could start over as the woman by the lake, let her new identity reflect its own image. The lake would be her fresh start. A new life. Calm and put together like the gentle lapping of the water at the shore, the ripples that danced across the surface. Her murky past hidden underneath. No longer scared, she could draw her strength from the lake.

She drew her feet out of the water and stood, the splintered wood of the dock coarse against her bare feet. In just a few steps she had moved to the cooler grass. Her toes dug into the soft ground and a smile played across her face once again. Things would be okay now. She had taken control for the first time and now she was safe. Things would be okay.

Prompt #17

The Prompt: A Rainbow

The light streaked across the sky as Isa stared out her bedroom window. She recited the colors in order.

Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Indigo. Violet.

A rainbow. A perfect rainbow, arced above all the houses and trees, dipping low to each side outside of Isa’s view. It hadn’t even rained earlier. Those were the best kind, Isa thought. Usually rainbows were an apology for the rainstorms, but occasionally one happened out of the blue like this. Just a random spark of happiness to brighten everyone’s day.

Isa smiled up at it. Nothing seemed quite so bad with a rainbow in the sky.

Sounds came from downstairs. They must have been fighting again.

Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Indigo.

They were always fighting lately. Cam deliberately made their father angry, like she was trying to bring out the worst in him. Isa couldn’t stand the yelling. It was a Sunday. Why couldn’t they just let things rest for one day a week?

Why couldn’t Cam just keep her head down and do what Dad wanted?

Isa always tried her best not to be noticed. It was safer that way. She was younger so he didn’t care as much about her as long as her grades were A’s and she didn’t stir up any trouble. Cam was a different story. She always had all kinds of friends and though her grades were good she rebelled in other ways.

There had been the shoplifting, and the drinking. Lately it’d been pot and college boys. She would come into Isa’s room late at night with the smoky sweet smell clinging to her clothes, ready to regale her with a story about her adventures that night.

Isa mostly tried not to listen.

Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue.

They were screaming again. She didn’t bother to question why Mom wasn’t stopping it. Their mother spent most of her time out on the patio with a cigarette these days. The stress smoking had gotten worse since Cam started high school.

Everything had gotten worse since Cam started high school.

“-won’t have this kind of behavior in my house! It’s disgraceful!” Isa cringed at the tone in her father’s voice. Her door was closed, but he still rang loud and clear.

Cam’s response was no better. “I’ll do what I want! It’s not hurting anyone!”

“That’s not your decision to make!”

Isa tried to tune them out, turned her attention back to the rainbow.

Red. Orange. Yellow. Green.

“You’re too old to act like this anymore! Look at your sister! She hasn’t started acting out and she’s been in high school for a year!”

“Only because you’ve got her locked away terrified in her room!”

Isa shuddered. She hated when the conversation- argument became about her. It seemed like it was the only time Dad ever noticed her. She wasn’t a fan of his attention. It never led to anything good.

“Look around this house, Dad. Isa never leaves her room, Mom’s outside pretending everything’s fine, it’s all on you!”

“I will not be spoken to that way in my own house!”

Red. Orange. Yellow.

Cam’s response was too quiet for Isa to hear, even though she strained. The arguments were bad, but the endings were worse. Sometimes Cam locked herself in her room, sometimes she joined Isa in hers. Lately she’d taken to fighting back with everything she had and the fights never ended.

She rarely got quiet.

Isa couldn’t hear a thing. She considered getting up from her window seat if only to open the door, but decided against. If anyone wanted her they’d come looking. It was safer in her room.

Then suddenly, a door slammed. The front door. Turning her gaze from the sky, Isa saw Cam’s blonde head retreating from the house at a near run. She didn’t look back, she didn’t even pause. Just continued until she was around the corner and out of sight.

Another door slammed, this time coming from inside the house. Her father’s study. She doubted he’d come out until dinner when her mother would plead and cajole him to join them at the table. It would be a tense meal, but usually Cam didn’t get back until they’d all gone to bed.

Red. Orange.

Isa waited up that night for the click of the front door, the soft beep of the security system or her sister’s soft footsteps on the stairs, but they never came. She waited up until suddenly she was opening her eyes to the bright light of morning and there was no hint that Cam had ever entered her bedroom.

She tiptoed down the hall to her sister’s room and peeked in. The bed was unmade, but that was nothing new. Cam was a slob. She wasn’t there and there was no sign she’d come back during the night.

Breakfast was quiet with no Cam to stir up trouble. There were no lectures about breaking curfew or the shameful behaviors Cam was exhibiting. There was no Cam.

Not a word was said the whole meal and Isa retreated back to her bedroom. She took up her usual seat at the window and watched not the sky, but for Cam to return.

Red.

She remained in that seat for hours, staring out at the grass and watching for Cam to come flouncing up the path, but she never did. Afternoon arrived and she was still gone.

The knot in the pit of Isa’s stomach tightened. Cam had always come back before, but there was always a question of how long that would last. She was eighteen. No law said she had to return. No reason for her to ever set foot in the house again. She’d certainly made that point clear several times.

Isa felt sick and the grass swam beneath her eyes. She’d been watching it for too long. She blinked rapidly to get the green haze out of her head and caught a glimpse of the sky. Yesterday’s rainbow was long gone and the sky was a clear blue, not even a cloud in sight.

Just a blank sky, nothing to distract her from Cam’s absence.

Nothing.

Prompt #16

The Prompt: A Sunset

The sunset cast an orange glow over the two figures. The light danced on the woman’s hair giving it a darker tint than its usual blond. She rested her head on the man’s shoulder and sighed contentedly. It was good to know that even with all the atrocities in the world, something this pure and beautiful could still exist.

They stood, watching the sun sink slowly beneath the curvature of the earth until they could no longer fool themselves into believing it was still sunset. Night had fallen and with it a chill that settled over the couple. Stars glittered in the sky surrounding the moon, but they could hardly be called beautiful. Where the sun was soft and warm, the stars were hard and bright like cold metal. There was nothing comforting about them.

The woman sighed again, but this time there was no calm in her soft breath. Her body was tense, prepared for anything. Night was not a time for her to relax. The man was hardly any better, but he slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders, murmuring soothing words into her ear. The day had been so perfect, but perfection never could last.

The woman turned to her companion, suddenly spiteful. “He won’t come.”

“He’ll be here,” the man replied automatically.

“He doesn’t care. He’s proven that time and time again.”

“He’ll be here,” the man said, effectively ending their spoken conversation. It was an argument they’d had a dozen times before. One that she could never win. The woman fell silent, a hard glint in her eyes. On the surface she had given up hope he would come, but there was still a small part of her that wanted so desperately to be wrong. Only on rare occasions did she ever even acknowledge the hope still existed, let alone listen to it.

They waited as the cool breeze turned into an icy gust of wind, forcing the two closer together for warmth. The woman shivered and pulled her cloak tighter. “He won’t come,” she repeated, but the man didn’t respond to or even acknowledge he’d heard her. “We’ve been out here all evening.”

“He said he’d come,” the man said, not even glancing at his companion. He was staring off into the distance, looking at nothing and everything all at once. “He said he’d come and he will.”

The woman fingered the wool in her cloak. “I’m tired of waiting for him.”

The man sighed and dropped his arm from around her shoulders. “I’m sure you can think of something to do with your time. Be creative.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. We’re always waiting for him.”

The man crossed his arms and looked away. It was something he couldn’t argue with. They were always waiting. The woman knew he would never agree with her, accept that he wasn’t going to show, but she couldn’t help adding one last barb. “He’s never going to come.”

Sighing, the man glanced down at her, really looking at her for the first time that night. “Stasia-”

“Don’t call me that anymore. Someone hears that and it gets up the chain and we’re done for.”

The man smiled wryly. “No one’s around to hear anything.” But he didn’t say her name again. They had learned to be always on their guard. They had grown up in the resistance, away from the brainwashing of the government. They had been in the longest and had managed to hide from the death camps set up for people just like themselves.

Stasia sank onto the ground. She hated hearing her real name. It made her remember her childhood, much the same as the life she led now, but it seemed fun as a kid. She learned to excel at hide and seek long before most kids knew what it was. She began learning to fight before she was ten. Back then it had all seemed like a game. Now she knew it was life and death.

“Stasia, Ollander.” A voice came out of nowhere, startling Stasia into a fighting stance. If it was government officials with stun guns she knew that would be useless, but it was a habit ingrained in her since childhood.

A man stood beside a tree, his face shrouded in darkness from the shadows. Stasia would have been hard pressed to make an identification, but Ollander didn’t seem too concerned. “I told her you’d be here,” he said, a smile gracing his face for the first time that night.

The man stepped out of the shadows and Stasia recognized his face instantly. She turned away, not wanting to look at him any longer than she had to. Luc was the third member of their trio and Ollander’s brother, but he had become a spy in the government. Stasia was never sure anymore if he was on their side or informing the government of their every move.

“I have news,” Luc said.

“You always have news,” Stasia replied coldly. “Or have you forgotten your duties?”

Luc glanced at her, but turned back to Ollander. It was clear he’d get more from his brother than his oldest friend. “They’re looking for you two, you’ve got to go underground.”

Stasia snorted. It wasn’t a new idea, the government was always searching for them. Going underground would mean stopping anything they were planning, possibly permanently. It was times like these she wondered about Luc’s loyalties. “Is that all?”

“No, they’re looking for you two specifically. They know your names and faces. Leave the resistance in someone else’s hands for a few months. You’ve got to get out of the city. I can get you out tonight.” Luc sounded sincere, but he was the best liar Stasia knew.

She exchanged a quick look with Ollander. They had lately lost any older members trusted enough to take over, and none of the new members had the contacts to keep everyone together. Finally Ollander spoke. “It would be impossible to hand over the leadership to someone else. We stay.”

Stasia smirked. She knew she shouldn’t be pleased that Ollander was on her side and not Luc’s, but she couldn’t help feeling a small sense of triumph. “Then stop the resistance, these are your lives we’re talking about. You need to go underground or you will die.”

“Then we will die,” Ollander said, shrugging. It wasn’t something any of them wanted to happen, but they had prepared for that day years ago. Anyone a part of the resistance understood that death was inevitable. The fact that they had managed to survive for this long was shocking in and of itself.

Luc slammed his fist against the tree, his anger surprising Stasia. He had always had perfect control over his emotions which made him the ideal spy. The sight of him losing control made Stasia question his motives. He knew they would all die eventually, his anger could be planned, a ruse to separate them from the rest of the resistance. “Damn it, Ollie, you are the resistance, don’t you understand that? If you die, the resistance dies.”

Ollander shook his head. To value one’s life over the life of others was exactly what the resistance was fighting against. No person’s life was more important than someone else’s. “Do you have any useful information for us?” He asked, and Stasia felt a surge of warmth. Ollander was the truest member of the resistance. Everyone else, including herself, had doubts occasionally, but Ollander was a true believer.

Luc ignored his brother’s question and turned to Stasia, who looked pointedly away. “Don’t listen to my pigheaded brother. You understand the long term. The resistance as a whole is more important than your stupid rules. Get out of the city, hide, keep safe. Come back in six months and this will have died down.”

Despite herself, Stasia felt a pull to Luc’s words. It sounded like a good plan, everything would be back to normal in only a few months and they could go back to leading the resistance together. But she shook her head. Ollander was right and that was final. They would stay.

Luc ran agitated fingers through his spiked blond hair. “That’s it then, isn’t it? There’s no going back once you leave here.” Stasia slipped her hand into Ollander’s and looked down at the ground. She wanted to apologize to Luc, offer him something, but there was nothing to say. Luc gave a disgusted sneer. “You two just signed your death warrants.”

It very well might have been true, but it was the price to pay for fighting the government.

When Stasia and Ollander were safely out of hearing, Luc growled softly. He had failed in his mission. The separation of Stasia and Ollander from their pitiful resistance was something only he could accomplish, and he had failed. They were the only powerful ones in the organization, the only ones actually doing any damage. With them out of the way the rest of the resistance would be wiped out and sentenced to the death camps.

But he had failed. He pulled out his communicator to let his superior know that Stasia and Ollander would not be heading to the government house he had set up. Luc had really thought this was the plan that would work. Now Stasia and Ollander were going home safe and it was his life on the line.

Prompt #15

The Prompt: If I could be anywhere other than here…

“If I could be anywhere other than here…” Pete murmured to himself. He didn’t need to finish the thought. He’d done so a hundred times before since he had been captured and imprisoned, imagining all of the places that weren’t nearly so bad as his tiny jail cell. In fact, the more difficult task would be to think of all the places he wouldn’t rather be. Almost instantly an image of a grave slipped into his mind.

He shook his head roughly. That wouldn’t help him keep a clear mind which he so desperately needed. Thoughts like that were better left in the past.

Pete stood up slowly and walked as far as he could away from the wall he was chained to. If he tried he could just barely see into the next cell. The occupant there was new; its previous inhabitant had been executed after giving up everything he knew. Pete hadn’t tried to speak to the newcomer. Friendships never outlasted the executions. Besides, anyone in here could be a spy trying to gain his trust to receive information.

But Pete was desperate for some kind of distraction. The man in the cell had his head in his hands and was facing the wall. His hair wasn’t long enough to suggest that he’d been captured more than a few weeks ago and his dark skin and hair suggested he came from down south. Pete tapped his fist on the metal bars to gain the man’s attention. He jumped in shock at the noise and turned to Pete in fear. Pete was surprised to notice how young he looked. He wasn’t a man at all, but a boy. If he was older than fifteen he would have been surprised. “Hello.” His voice was raspy after weeks of speaking aloud to no one but himself. The boy stared at him wide eyed without a word. “It’s okay to talk. They don’t care what we say in here.”

The boy continued to stare and Pete had almost given up hope of a response when he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “How long have you been in here?”

Pete glanced at the wall, at the dozens of lines that marked his futile attempt to keep track of the days before he finally gave up. “A few months, maybe. Maybe more.”

If it was possible, the boy looked even more terrified. “Months? I thought this was where they-” The slamming of a door echoed through the otherwise quiet prison. The boy didn’t pick up his train of thought again, but Pete knew what he meant. This was where they brought the prisoners to die. Every person in a cell was simply waiting for his own turn.

Pete figured it would be best to draw the boy away from this line of thought. Dwelling on death would only send a person into madness. Their sanity was they had left and Pete wasn’t going to lose that too. “What’s your name?”

“Matthias,” he whispered. “Matty.”

Matty. It was such a young name. Pete didn’t want to think of how young and innocent Matty seemed. It would only hurt more when it came time for his death. Someone so young didn’t belong in a place like this. He should have been off with his parents somewhere, getting an education like they would have in happier times that Pete could hardly remember anymore. A boy as young as Matty wouldn’t know anything more than the war, though. This was what his life had become.

Another door slammed, this time closer to them. Pete pushed away from the bars separating their cells and huddled against the wall as far from the door as possible. A burly guard walked down the aisle, lit by only his own torch. He ran his stick across the bars and those who hadn’t escaped to the back of their cells did so immediately.

“No fraternizin’ with other captives!” He yelled. Pete knew he wasn’t talking to him and Matty specifically, but his body trembled with fear. When all was quiet again he didn’t return to the divider between the cells. He stayed in his corner, alone in the dark.