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!
(Team 1)
So this is what drowning feels like. It’s terrible really.
“Rapunzel! Rapunzel! Let down the stairs!”
I slam the book I’m holding closed as I am brought back to reality.
“Coming, Mother!”
I hurry over to the window and unfurl the rope ladder that hangs ready for Mother’s nightly visits.
“Where were you, child?” She scolds me, climbing over the windowsill. “I had to call you twice tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Mother.” I duck my head contritely. I know how she hates to wait. “I was… exploring the ocean today.” Drowning would be more accurate, but I can’t tell her that.
“Hmm…” She gives me an appraising look. “I suppose it’s just as well since you will never actually see the ocean. My poor dear.” She pats my cheek before unpacking the basket of food over her arm onto the small table. This is my opening.
“Mother, I was thinking…”
“Yes, dear?” She continues to set the food out on the table without looking at me.
“Why can’t I see the ocean?”
She responds in an exasperated voice, “Dear, we’ve been over this before.”
“I know,” I say, keeping my voice confident and steady, “but I can’t stay here forever.”
She pauses, her back still turned to me. I wait. Finally, she faces me and meets my gaze. “Rapunzel…” she sighs, “I know it is hard for you to stay in this tower, but you must trust me. The world out there is a terrible and dangerous place. Here you are safe.”
Her words pour over me with the same effect as the words I had been reading prior to her arrival. A drowning sensation grips my whole being until I cannot stand it anymore, and I burst out, “But what if I would rather face the dangers of the world than suffocate in the safety of this tower?”
Her gaze darkens and her tone is low as she responds, “You do not know what you are talking about.” I have always been a little afraid of Mother, but never so much as in this moment. All of the fight leaves me, and I nod meekly in response.
“I’m sorry, Mother.”
Her gaze is appraising once again, and she gives a brief nod in response to my apology. She retrieves her now empty basket and moves toward the window. “I have an errand in the city a few days to the south. I left extra food here, so you should be fine until my return.” She sits on sill, preparing to descend. “I would like for you to untie the stairs after me.” My eyes widen in surprise, but she offers no explanation. No explanation is necessary, however. I expressed my desire to leave, and she is making it very clear that the choice is not mine to make.
Once she has departed, the rope ladder hidden in a bush below, I take deep breaths and count the stars from my window, trying to ignore the sensation of drowning which once again threatens to overcome me.
***
So this is what dying feels like. It is agony both of body and of soul.
“Miss? Are you alright?”
I slam the book I’m holding closed as I am brought back to reality by the unknown voice. I wipe the tears I hadn’t realized I was crying from my face and study the young man who stands a few paces away from me, hands lifted as though to show he means no harm. Our gazes meet, and we both let out a gasp. I stand slowly, the book on my lap falling forgotten to the ground, and walk carefully toward the man. Up close I can see that he is hardly more than a boy, maybe a year older than my sixteen. What shocks me the most, however, even more than finding a stranger in my tower, is to find that the stranger wears my face.
“Nessa?” His voice comes out quiet and shaky, his face pale as though he has seen a ghost. Something in my heart stirs at the name.
“No,” I shake my head in response, “Razpunzel?” I meant to introduce myself, but instead my name comes out as a question. His eyes widen in surprise.
“It is you.” A small laugh escapes him, before he frowns in consternation. “Of course, she would have called you ‘Rapunzel’.” He looks around as though just realizing something. “Where is she? She’s not here, is she? The crone who stole you away?”
I have not the slightest idea what he is talking about. Mother? Stole me away?
“I… who are you?”
He runs a hand through his thick blond locks. “Right. Sorry. My name is Aidan. I’m your brother.”
“My… brother?” I stumble back a step, and he reaches to steady me.
“Yes,” his voice his kind, gentle. “It must be rather a shock to you. I’m sure the crone did not tell you the truth. She stole you away when you were just a baby. It’s… well, I don’t quite understand it all. Something about garden boundaries and leafy greens. I’m sure Mum and Da would be happy to explain it all. They have missed you all these years. Would you…” his voice turns uncertain, “would you like to come and meet them?”
Something about his sincerity touches my heart, the way he invites me rather than commands me. I look around the small tower that I have called home for as long as I can remember and think about the woman I call ‘Mother’ who frightens me and keeps me locked away. Is it strange that I trust a stranger with my face more than the woman who raised me?
“What about…” I gesture helplessly, but he catches my meaning.
“I’ll protect you.”
As I take my brother’s hand, I feel no regrets about leaving this place behind to discover a family, my real family, who loves me and misses me. I feel… hopeful.
So this is what living feels like.
Wait so if we like accidentally post our stories as a comment here, will it count or be ignored?