forum Short Story Writing Competition #2
Started by @LittleBear group
tune

people_alt 9 followers

@WriteOutofTime

can I be a judge? I've got this stupid essay to write for a scholarship due TODAY (thanks dad) so i'm too swamped to write fiction rn

@LittleBear group

Unless the general consensus is that everyone needs more time. It would be better to just push the deadline if we only have three submissions…

@AmmyPajammy

After much radio silence, I present for your consideration, capping at a whopping 1,446 words, Admittance. General warning for coarse language:

[5/2/18 1:11 PM] ME: Also, did you read my last entry?

[5/2/18 1:11 PM] POOKIE <3: idk and oh f*ck I knew I forgot something let me look at it quick

[5/2/18 1:12 PM] ME: nice

[5/2/18 1:15 PM] POOKIE <3: not bad but you really danced around too much

[5/2/18 1:17 PM] ME: Yeah, I really did. I should take up ballet XD

[5/2/18 1:19 PM] POOKIE <3: lol seriously don’t do that again

[5/2/18 1:19 PM] ME: Don’t tell me what to do

I woke up to the sun shining on my face as I normally do every morning when I forget to close the curtains after the cat gets to them. I tried to ignore it, but when I received my obligatory “good morning” text from my fiancé, I knew that there was no going back to sleep. He would just keep spamming my inbox until I replied, and I am one of the few people of my generation who always keeps the sound on.

I practically flopped out of bed and went to go make my coffee. I never get it right; it’s always too bitter or too watery or too much.

“I’ll make the perfect cup one day,” I muttered as I spooned a whole cup of sugar into my mug. “Right, Beautiful?”

My domestic shorthair was too busy licking the ice cubes in her bowl to care about what I was saying.

Suddenly, she darted off around the corner, but I wasn’t the least bit concerned. She was always doing weird shit.

After making my cup to my liking, I went back to my room, noting that I couldn’t find the cat in any of her usual spaces.

“Beautiful, you better not be in my room,” I said as I pushed open my bedroom door.

Instead of seeing my cat struggling to get her fat body into my window sill, I was greeted with a gloved hand grabbing my nightgown and yanking me further inside.

“Oh my god!” I exclaimed as I fell butt-first onto the floor. I’m a pretty heavy gal, so it wasn’t pleasant, but luckily for me I’m also a messy gal, and my dirty laundry from several [REDACTED] past broke my fall. Unluckily for me, I spilled my coffee everywhere.

“You are absolutely filthy,” said a voice that I both didn’t recognize and did at once. I quickly looked up to see the most incredible sight of my life.

Before me was a tall woman of dark brown skin and dreaded brown hair. She wore a long, flowing dress that looked medieval in origin, and killer wedge heels. Her arms were crossed, and she was scowling down at me like an angry mother.

“Knowing that you live like this really puts things into perspective,” the woman said in a disappointed tone.

“Whoa, hold up,” I said. “Am I cracking? Am I dead? Did Beautiful finally kill me like I know she always wanted to?”

The woman rolled her eyes and extended a gloved hand out to me. “You talk long and fast for someone whose life may very well be in danger.”

Without hesitation, I grabbed her hand. “Ma’am, I’m a millennial. Killing me would be doing me a favor.”

The woman looked shocked for a moment, but she ultimately just shook her head.

“You are too young to be thinking such things,” she said softly.

“Bitch, we’re the same age and you think the same thing,” I retorted.

The woman glared at me with her one hazel eye.

“You of all people should know that that is only technically true,” she said.

I climbed back into bed and flipped open my laptop. “Yeah, whatever. You owe me a coffee.”

With a raised brow, the woman walked over to the edge of my bed and took a seat on my rumpled covers. The mattress sunk in deeply, causing the bed to tilt in her favor.

“You’re taking this rather well,” she observed.

“What am I supposed to do? Freak out?” I said. “What good will that do? And who would I tell? I’m trying to stay out of an institution, thank ya, ma’am.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” the woman admitted. “Aren’t you the least bit curious about why I am here in your house, and not in my own world?”

“This is a dream, obviously.”

“Not exactly. But I am here because I know that you have another writing competition coming up.”

“How do you–”

“Never mind that. I am here to tell you that I will literally kill you unless you start taking responsibility for me.”

I looked at the woman as if she was crazy. “Bitch, what?”

“I said that I, Lady Conarith Cornelia Canterbury-Ga–” the woman known as Conarith began, but I interrupted.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know who you are,” I said hurriedly. “But what’s this about the murder?”

“You know who I am,” said Conarith, “but you continue to refuse to tell the people about me. About the real me.”

I made a face. “And what about it? Who cares?”

“The people have a right to know!” Conarith exclaimed passionately as she stood to her feet. “You need to stop dancing around the issue! Your work is suffering for it!”

“I literally don’t understand what you’re getting all worked up for,” I said. “When I actually write your story, of course I’m gonna have no choice but to tell people who you are.”

“If you write my story,” Conarith corrected me, glaring at me once again.

I nervously scratched my neck. “Well, yeah, about that–”

“Spare me your excuses,” said Conarith dismissively.

I was about to say something else when a long, thin knife was suddenly pressed against my neck, its cool metal biting into my flesh.

“You will tell them who I am,” Conarith said.

“You’re really gonna kill me over a writing competition on a website where everyone is half my age?” I asked.

“The competition is not the point!” Conarith exclaimed. “You being a coward, is!”

I made another incredulous face. “I’m a coward over vagueing about you on a website where everyone is half my…ack!”

Conarith cut my cheek so quickly that it took me a few seconds to register what happened.

“I thought I asked you to spare me,” she said. “You are being a coward around people who are half your age. And for what? Your work suffering as a result! And do you know what happens when your work suffers? You get upset. And you want to know what happens when you get upset?”

“You f*cking cut me!” I cried as I held my bleeding cheek.

“And I will cut you again if you do not be quiet,” said Conarith. She handed me one of the napkins that covered my bed. “Do you know what happens when you get upset?”

I said nothing as I nursed my wound.

“I suffer,” Conarith continued. “I and the people whom I love suffer. It’s bad enough that we have such a lazy writer, but it is even worse that you project all of your hurt and insecurities on to us.”

I shrugged. “That’s art, babe.”

Conarith rolled her eyes. “You really are obtuse, aren’t you? Never mind it. I will not leave until you admit to everyone who I really am.”

“Will you cut my face again if I don’t?” I asked cheekily.

“I will cut your face off!” Conarith yelled.

I flinched and held my hands up.” Ok, ok! God damn! I’ll admit it; you’re a self-insert for a loser in her mid-20s!”

Conarith blinked at me. “What? No! Oh goodness, no! I’m not trying to embarrass you! I just wanted you to admit that I am, as you say, a fanfiction OC. My god, woman, have some dignity.”

“Bitch,” I mumbled indignantly.

Conarith put a weighty arm around me. “I know that it’s hard, dear. But believe me, if you do this, you will feel better. I mean, look at it this way; even your love believes that your constant dancing about the topic is negatively impacting your work.”

“That’s because he’s a dickhead,” I said.

Conarith shrugged. “Maybe so, but even still. My husband, too, is a dickhead. But I am big enough to admit when he’s right.”

I snickered. “Yeah, you’re big enough alright.”

Conarith’s arm clamped around my neck. “I will not hesitate, bitch.”

“I won’t hesitate, bitch!” I could not help but quote from my favorite vine of all time.

And that, my friends, is the story of how I got my necked snapped in two by my Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild OC.

@Masterkey

Yeah let's push the deadline by two days. And then if any of you who have already posted your story would like to keep editing / adding to them, I haven't read any of them yet.

Deleted user

I can't, sorry. I started writing something, but my allergies just picked up really badly and I have a headache. I'm sorry for backing out.

@LittleBear group

That's okay guys. I totally get it! Do you want to postpone until after the semester is over? I just don't think that having 4 entries is enough.

Deleted user

(may i enter, even though i know that it's past the deadline?)

Deleted user

(sorry it sucks i jotted this down in an hour)

@LittleBear group

@Demiphoenix1125, that was really beautiful and well written. But the prompt is "one of your original characters interrupts your daily routine".

Deleted user

(sHIT I AM SO SORRY I'LL DELETE IT I WAS LOOKING AT A DIFFERENT PROMPT FROM WATTPAD MY BAD)

Deleted user

If you're okay with having less judges, I can probably submit a short story within an hour

@LittleBear group

@Masterkey What I did last time was have all of the judges post their preferences for a group DM and then we combined the lists and found which writer had most votes for what position. (For instance writer 2 was chosen by two people to be first and writer 3 was chosen once, then first would go to writer 2)

Deleted user

Alright, I'll get the short story done ASAP