Hello! I’m here with my entries for AAWC and CWWC!
Loren, I used these prompts:
I open the front door and gingerly step inside, scanning the entryway for signs of attack. Breathing sigh of relief, I drop my bags onto the floor.
“Dad! I’m home!” I call out his name in the silence like he would actually hear, like he would actually care.
Shrugging, I make a beeline for the kitchen and, after raiding the fridge, retreat to my room.
When I close the door, I sag against it, letting it hold me steady. Tonight was the night. They were coming, and they wouldn’t give up so easily. If I didn’t escape, they would overrun me and my family.
They are cunning;
They are brave;
They are brutal;
They are relentless;
And they are hunting me.
Darkness falls, and shadows come with it. Silently, I slip out the back door of our old farmhouse, taking off, a vintage lantern held tightly between my fingers.
My feet seem to fly as I run. I’m not sure where I’m going, but I soon find myself as the edge of a dense forest.
A sign hangs from a tree which reads, Here Be Faeries.
Reluctantly, I proceed into the forest, taking one last glance behind me. The silhouette of the farmhouse is sharp against the darkening sky. I suck in my breath and turn, plunging into the shadowed wood.
My feet fly over the dirt path as I proceed with my retreat into the woods. I hope with all my heart that they won’t find me, but my mind tells me otherwise. I know they have caught on to my trail; they are waiting for the perfect time to attack.
After an hour of continued running, I collapse against a tree, gasping for breath. My heart pounds and my chest heaves with each refreshing gulp. Through the gaps in the treetops, I see bits of the starless sky. I take a deep breath, ready to continue my retreat. But I find myself glued to the tree, unable to break away. I’m so sick of running. I’m ready to fight, but I don’t know how. I need a hero; so that’s what I’ll become.
The snap of twigs and the rustle of leaves reach my ears. I whirl around, gasping in horror. They are here; they have found me.
The Ferrymen; the guards of the mirrors. Mirrors are passages to fantastic worlds, guarded by The Ferrymen. I am the only human to dare travel through the mirrors, and I have seen too much. They hunt me without relent, never letting me rest. And they have found me.
The Ferrymen emerge from the trees, their ghostly figures rippling in the moonlight. Their bodies resemble that of a lizard, with a forked tongue and small black eyes. They stand on thin, human-like legs and carry swords that kill with a single touch. Sharp barbs protrude from their backs and their thin arms bear sharp talons.
With a hiss, they approach me, slow footstep by slow footstep. I am frozen with terror; afraid to run, afraid to run.
To my surprise, a new strength arises in me. I am tired of running; tired of hiding. I am ready to fight.
I snatch a broken limb from the ground and, bracing my legs, stand firm against The Ferrymen. I am ready to be a hero.
What do you think? I didn’t spend as much time on this one, but I really like it. 🙂
The AAWC prompt was Smile. Misty, I used that several times as well as a swan. 🙂
“Carolyn, Susan, Michael; meet Emily.”
I smile down at the thin English girl and reach out to take her hand. “Hello Emily; I’m Carolyn.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she mumbles, her eyes fixed of the pavement.
Susan runs and grasps Emily’s hands. “Oh, it must be so swell to live in England! I’ve always wanted to go there. Did you ever meet the queen?”
I shake my head. Although Susan is ten years of age, sometimes she’s thick-headed. Emily is an orphan; her parents were killed in a bombing. But to my surprise, Emily answers, “Yes, I did once. She came to our house. She was so lovely and we had a marvelous time.”
Susan’s eyes are shining. “How swell!”
I glance at Mother and I know she’s as puzzled as I am. She claps her hands and says, “Let’s get washed up, everyone! Emily, there’s a casserole with your name on it.”
We brighten and laugh joyously. But Emily stands, her eyes looking at the ground. She isn’t smiling or laughing.
I wrap my arms around her. “Come on, Emily; Mother’s casseroles are heavenly!” I hope for a smile, but all I get is a small nod.
“Is it true that your neighbor’s house blew up?” Michael’s eager voice rings out.
I glare at him and kick his shin under the dinner table. What is he thinking? Emily’s own parents were killed in a bombing.
Emily bites her lip and after awhile says, “Mrs. Davis, may I be excused? I’m rather tired.”
Mother nods. “Oh yes, dear. And please, call me Patty.”
Emily nods and turns to walk up the stairs to our bedroom. I get up and follow her. I pause outside the bedroom door, waiting for the muffled cries to cease.
After awhile I tap lightly on the door and enter. Emily sits on the bed, a book propped in her hands. But she is not reading; she is gazing at the framed painting of a swan. It hangs over my bed, my treasured piece of artwork. I rarely find time to paint these days, what with the war and all.
I follow Emily’s gaze. “Do you like it?”
Emily nods vigorously. “Oh yes! Swans are my favorite animal.”
I smile. “Mine too.”
She turns back to her book. Walking to her bed, I sit beside her and hug her. We sit like this a long time; her trembling in my grasp.
Soon, I get up and walk to the doorway. I pause. “Emily? Remember; we love you. We’re here to help you in any way we can.”
Emily looks straight into my eyes and smiles. A warm smile; a real smile. “Indeed!”
What do you think? I really enjoyed writing this one…I wrote it all out by hand in a notebook a few nights ago before bed. The piece is greatly inspired by the American Girl book, Happy Birthday, Molly! In the story Molly’s family takes in an English girl, Emily Bennett.
I hope y’all liked my entries! Which was your favorite?
Thanks so much everyone! I’ve gotten some wonderful feedback on my stories; thank you all so much! 😀