Welcome to Week Three! Can you believe we’re at the halfway mark for the challenge?
You all did so well with your stories last week! There were so many interesting and unique ways you interpreted the prompt. It’s now the third week, so it’s time to do it again! Will your story have aliens? Zombies? Maybe it’ll have a dragon in it! Whatever you decide, we can’t wait to see what you come up with.
So, without further ado, here’s your next prompt!
Week Three Prompt – The Starting Sentence Prompt
Write a story that starts with the
following sentence: So this is what drowning feels like.
Wait…what’s a “Starting Sentence” prompt?
A sentence prompt is a prompt that uses a particular sentence. It doesn’t matter where your story takes place, who’s in it, or what’s said. The only thing that matters is that your story must start with this sentence: So this is what drowning feels like.
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!
Will you notice if someone is like 1-25 words over the 1000 word limit (asking for a friend hahaha)
what if i accidently posted my story as a comment last week lol? does it still count?
Hey Izzy and Ava,
If you accidentally post your story as a comment instead of an answer, you should get an email to alert you! It will still count for points for your team, but no one will be able to vote for it.
And, to answer your question for your friend 😉 As far as word count, for your story to count for the challenge, it does need to be 1,000 words or under. Great questions!
( I going by the skin of my teeth lol )
Team A
Masks
So this is what drowning feels like. I mused, looking over the small crowd of people. I waved, trying to look happy. My face had to scream, I won the championship and it’s totally what I wanted!, or I’d get a lovely lecture from my adopted parents, who flanked me of either side on the parade. They occasionally glared at me, little reminders of the image I had to upkeep. Drums thundered behind us, an entire high school marching band trying to keep rhythm just for ‘ me ‘. I tried not to roll my eyes at the cheering crowd. I was drowning and they didn’t even notice-or they didn’t care. They’d probably still prefer the “ Champion “ me, if I told them truth. “ Your smile’s drooping, sweetie. “, Mom said through her smile. “ Who cares if it’s drooping? They’re too busy hooraying to notice . “, I hissed. “ Keep talking like that and I’ll be sure to send that ‘ tragic accident ‘ to the newspaper. “, Mom said, not a bit of her face moved. I broadened my smile. “ As soon as we get home, I’ll be calling the CPS. “, I grumbled, more to myself. “ You’ll be dead before they arrive. “, my father glared at me, “ Now shut up and keep waving. “. I didn’t make further comment. This wasn’t the first they threatened me. The only thing that kept me safe was knowing they wouldn’t do anything until my glory days were over. Ok-guess I need a Plan B….Scooter better be waiting in the tree. Scooter was the only one who knew who I really was, and not Ruth ‘ The Ruthless ‘ McCarty. My smile was frozen on my face by the time the parade was done, and it took the entire drive home to fix it into my usual scowl. The limo pulled beside the front door. Mom daintly stepped out the limo and into the front door. Dad strode in two steps, I sulked inside behind him. “ Thank you, Charles, we won’t be needing you for the rest of the day. That parade took a lot out of our little Champion. “, Dad said, smiling that fake smile. He closed the door, and the mask slipped off. “ You won’t be getting your meals today. “, his voice was cold, “ I suppose you know why? “. I didn’t answer, whatever I’d say would be wrong, anyways. “ It is because, “, Mom sneered, “ you couldn’t keep quiet and smile. AND you threatened to call the CPS? Ungrateful. Little. Brat. “. She jabbed her finger into my chest, punctuating each word. Icky onion breath wafted towards me. “ Go to your room. Now. “, Dad growled, giving me a shove towards the stairs. I turned away, biting my lip as I thumped up the stairs. I closed the door slowly, knowing they’d explode if I slammed it. I slumped against my door, sighing. I looked at the floor, the only spot not covered in medals. My parents made me do everything sports. Volleyball, basketball, baseball, soccer. Anything and everything competitive . If I wanted to draw, I’d have to enter it in a art contest and go to nationals. Music? Private tutor and win America’s Got Talent. If I even so much as touch something that could be competitive, they’ll make me dive off the deep end. And then tie weights to my ankles. And then make me swim thirty laps…underwater. My true parents would never do that. A tap on the window shook me from my musings. I looked up to see a squarish face staring at me. I got up, crossing the room in a few strides. You’d think someone who was a champion would have a larger room. I opened the window, “ Scooter! Just the gremlin I was looking for. “, I said. Scooter smiled, a real smile, “ Hi. “. I pulled him inside, quickly closing the window. He brushed himself off, plucking a leaf from his blond hair. “ Someone’s in a hurry. “, he mumbled. “ I need your help with someone. “, I said. Scooter straightened to his full 5 feet, “ At your service, milady. “, he drawled. I dragged a heavy suitcase from under my perfectly tucked bed. I traced a few peeling stickers, exclaiming about exotic places I’ve only seen the stadiums of. I fiddled with the brass latches, opening the suitcase. I grabbed out a bundle of papers, shoving them towards Scooter, “ Two days from now, I need all of these to be on everybody’s doors. Do you think you could do that? “. Scooter scanned over one of the papers, his brow furrowed. “ Abigail I-“, I put my hand over his mouth, “ It isn’t safe to call me that. “, I hissed. Scooter looked at me with wide eyes, I slowly took my hand off. “ I think this is a bad idea. “, Scooter said. “ It’s the only one that’ll work. “, I said, opening my closet. I pulled out the few non-sporty clothes I had, gently setting them on one side of the suitcase. “ I have a $1000 dollars, is that enough? “, I said. “ Ruth….are you sure this is the only option you got? “, Scooter said, glancing at me, “ It’s the only way I won’t get killed. “, I grabbed a old, yellowed letter from the suitcase, offering it to him. “ Read this once I’m gone…it’ll be your proof. “, Scooter hesitantly took it. “ I’ll find my actual parents-assuming they’re alive. “, I continued, they better be alive. Scooter gently set down the papers and the letter on my bed, opening his arms. I leaned into them, hugging him back. “ Are you really, truly sure? “, he whispered. “ I can’t drown anymore “, I whispered back. He held me at arm’s length, looking up at me, “ Then I’m coming with you. “. He scooped up the papers, handing me the letter. I picked up my suitcase, slipping the letter inside. “ These’ll be everywhere by morning. They’ll know the truth. The whole truth. “, Scooter said, determination twinkled in his eyes. My grin had never been more real.
Wait so if we like accidentally post our stories as a comment here, will it count or be ignored?