Welcome to the final week of the Spring Writing Challenge!
It’s the final week! This has been such a fun challenge. You’ve all done so well with your stories. There are so many interesting and unique ways you have taken the prompt. It’s now time for the final week, so let’s do this one last time! We can’t wait to see what you come up with.
So, without further ado, here’s your final prompt!
Week Six Prompt – The Character Prompt
Write a story about a character that experiences a rebirth
Wait…what’s a character prompt?
A character prompt is a prompt that’s about a specific character. It doesn’t matter where your story takes place or what’s said. What matters is that your story must be about a character who experiences a rebirth.
Before you start writing, we have some important rules for you to follow.
Writing Rules
1. Please keep the content of the stories you post to a PG rating. Please avoid real curse words. Violence/fighting should be limited and purposeful. Please do not include any spice.
2. Your story must be 1,000 words or less, and must contain the prompt to be counted for the challenge. You’re not required to post it in order to “win” the challenge, but if you want it to count for your team, your story must be posted by Sunday at 11:59 PM ET, and you must include your team name.
Remember to scroll all the way to the bottom of the page and post your story as an “answer” to this question, not a “comment”. 🙂 You’re all doing such a great job! I’m so proud of all the stories you’ve posted.
Happy Writing!
We’re so glad that you participated Juli! 🙂
Team 1/Reepicheep. Thanks for this challenge! Feels great to have some finished stories in my portfolio.
This one came from a line from a Charles Spurgeon sermon I came upon.
Death to Die
The TOVA remained patient, spoon ready with Grandpa Walt’s EssentiGel, its notes of peach, cinnamon, and lavender peppering the bedroom on the breeze from the open window.
“It is mid-afternoon, and you have not eaten today, Walter. My directive is to make sure you do.”
A gentle smile eased from Grandpa Walt’s lips. He dismissed the food with a weary shake of his head and pulled the blanket closer to his chin.
“Very well,” the hospice bot said. It passed its palm sensors over Grandpa Walt’s chest for another cardiac analysis. “Because of your condition, remember that we can expedite a reGenesis procedure. We understand that hesitation is natural. Human. But death can be a beginning. You can wake up tomorrow, twenty again, every memory intact.”
“No, thank you,” Grandpa Walt whispered, interrupting the humanoid Transitional Overwatch Virtual Aide and sliding his attention to the sunshine and birdsong.
“Very well,” the TOVA said and whirred from the bedroom, past Evran, who stood by the corner table biting his lip and restraining a heavy sigh.
Evran let the peacefulness hang. If not for the delicate rise and fall of the blanket over Grandpa Walt’s chest, the scene could have been an idyllic painting.
It didn’t have to be. What Evran wouldn’t give to have a Key in his own name.
The quarter-sized reGenesis Key felt heavier in Evran’s fingers as if tethered to the worry steadily swelling tighter inside him. He traced its metallic grooves, wiped smudges off the touchscreen side. All the Key needed was to record Grandpa Walt’s vocal agreement to confirm his procedure. But apparently presenting him with a Key—the token of a fully-paid-for reGenesis—couldn’t change his grandfather’s mind.
That’s old-world Christianity for you. Inflexible to the end.
A memory flickered: Grandpa Walt teaching him how to reset the treads on his SkyTrak trail-cycle.
You’re the only father I had. I’m not ready to lose you.
The Key slipped from Evran’s grasp and clattered onto the table. Grandpa Walt didn’t flinch.
“I’m ready, my boy,” the old man murmured.
“You are?” Evran blinked. “That’s great! Here, let me start the voice recorder—”
“You misunderstand me. Not for that.”
Gentle but firm. Like with the SkyTrak, Grandpa Walt had his way of guiding.
“Grandpa, look . . . I get the debate. But reGenesis isn’t playing God. It’s love. All life is precious, right? Doesn’t the Bible say that God doesn’t want anyone to perish?”
“‘Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints.’”
Evran spun the Key in his fingers. “What about Lazarus? And wasn’t there a child Jesus brought back, too? Heck, Jesus himself came back to life.”
“You’re right, Ev.”
A flare of hope rose.
“But they remained in their bodies,” Grandpa Walt said. “I don’t believe they had a hollowness behind their eyes when they came back.”
The hope faded. Evran couldn’t disagree. He pictured his boss who came back through reGenesis last year. She remembered everything, just younger in body. But something in her eyes, her soul, had dimmed.
“Besides,” Grandpa Walt continued, “eternity isn’t here—it’s there. And of those three you named, only one of them is still alive.”
And so are you. Tears blurred his vision before escaping. “I don’t want you to go, Grandpa.”
The old man shifted, his gaze meeting Evran’s with quiet warmth. “Death wasn’t God’s plan, but He used it. If His own Son suffered it, should we expect any different?” He smiled and turned again toward the sun, the bedsheet rising high above his heart. “It is not death to die.”
Evran wiped saline from his cheeks. The Key slipped again, clinking to the floor and vanishing into the grey argyle rug. He crouched and searched within the shadow of the table but couldn’t find it.
The sunlight dimmed as it passed behind a cloud. He didn’t want to disturb his grandfather by turning on the ceiling light to look for it. Instead, he left for a glass of water—he needed a breath anyway.
His grandfather’s words repeated—about God’s Son, eternity, death. They rang true. Evran had never questioned reGenesis. Until now. It wasn’t the science he found doubt in. It was its soul.
He composed himself, finished his water, and made his way back down the hall. In the light from the bedroom, a moving shadow made him hesitate. TOVA must have come back. He leaned out-of-sight against the doorframe a moment longer, still unsure how to approach his grandfather again . . . or whether he still should.
Further down the hall, TOVA glided between rooms, carrying blankets.
TOVA wasn’t in Grandpa Walt’s room.
He’s walking?
Evran curled into the doorway.
“Grandpa?“
A robed figure, a translucent distortion in the dim light, stood beside the bed, gazing down at the old man.
The gossamer outline of what should have been a face turned toward Evran.
His limbs and breathing locked.
But he wasn’t afraid.
Light crept back into the room like a veil lifting. The figure was gone. Grandpa Walt’s eyes were still and quiet, like the bedsheet over his chest.
Evran hadn’t realized the birds had stopped singing until they started up again.
He drifted to his grandfather’s side. His last words echoed.
The balloon of anxiety, long inflated with fear of his grandfather’s death, began to deflate.
“Goodbye, Grandpa.”
Dazed, Evran dropped to his knees and scanned the rug for the Key, only half-wondering if it could be reassigned. But he didn’t search as urgently, and after less than a minute, he stopped looking. It didn’t matter like it had before.
Maybe death is the real reGenesis.
TOVA entered and paused by the bed. Its palm sensors remained at its side.
“Very well,” it said, then left the room.
Intriguing.
When the new prompt arrive, my first thought is, Oh no! What am I going to write to make that work? But the Holy Spirit ALWAYS shows up and I get an idea every time. It amazes me. Thanks for a thought provoking six weeks.