#40: It was my turn to dig again...

Somehow he had gotten me to join in on his little plan. I don't know why, I don't know how, but I am in it now. I thought he was kidding when he said he was going to kill him, but apparently not. Now here I was, trading places with him from my watch post to the digging sight. We had to dig deep enough so that no one would stumble upon the body on accident. We had wrapped it up and folded him into a large pet carrier. I shivered as I thought of the cold body squished into the pet carrier and continued to dig. We had been at it for hours, trading off watching for cops and digging. My arms were sore and I was cold and I wanted to go home and pretend like this whole thing wasn't happening. I couldn't even think of what would happen if we got caught. A cold sweat formed on the back of my neck and my legs suddenly felt weak. The gravity of the situation hit me. My best fiend had killed a person and now I am helping him because I know what happened. Who is to say that I am not next?!

#39: Someone I hate

There are not many people whom I hate. I am able to tolerate most people, however, this person drives me up the wall with have and annoyance. It all started back in elementary school because I didn't want to be friends with this person any more, and her mom got mad and told me I had to be friends with her. I was in elementary school so I didn't know that I could tell her mom no, so I suffered through a "friendship" with her. To this day I regret it, but every time  try to tell her something she doesn't want to hear, she begins crying like a baby and then people get mad at me like I killed a puppy, when all I did was tell her something. The way she flips her hair (refraining from telling the color of her hair to prevent clues from revealing themselves) like she is the most important person on the face of the planet annoys me to death. I hate the way that she disses people who she thinks she is better than and how she will give sly insults that she thinks I am too stupid to get or notice. Sometimes I just want to wring her little neck until her eyes pop out of her annoying face.  I don't know if my conscience could handle killing someone (obviously, or else she would be dead). Everyday I go to school because I dread seeing her and her imaginary friendship with me, but soon I will (prayerfully) be far away from her, never to see her again! Graduation will be the best day of my life.

#38: excerpt from a story I was going to write but haven't had time to develop further

Her body convulsed with each cough, and more and more blood splattered onto the hardwood floor. Her face was pale, unusually and abnormally pale. She was the image of death, and this time there was nothing I could do to stop the process. Her eyes seemed too big for her head, Her frame seemed even smaller than ever. She looked at me, her eyes glazed over. She opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by another round of bloody coughs. She collapsed to the round. I made an effort to catch her but to no avail. I ran to her side. Her breathing was erratic and forced. Her should quickly was slipping away from me, and no matter how much I tried to keep her here, but it still slipped away from me. She was hanging on by a thread and was starting to fray, and there wasn't anything I could do. She was dying right in front of me and I couldn't do anything about it! how useless am I? How useless am I that I can't even save a single soul? Can I only bring destruction and chaos? Can I do no good?

#37: In the hospital

Everything was blindingly white. It smelled clean and there were a bunch of sounds. Different sounds-beeps and shouts and toilets flushing and some sounds that were too far away for him to identify. n his own room, he was lying in his bed, a preheated blanket had been placed on top of him. There was an IV running from the bag on a pole to the crook in his arm. He looked at it curiously and tugged at it, but the tape placed on top of it held it firmly in place. He grunted in frustration and left it zone. He couldn't remember why he was here, or how he had gotten there. The only thing he did know was that he wanted to leave. He pressed the call button for the nurse and waited. When she showed up, she checked the heart monitor and his IV bag. He asked her when he could leave and she said it was going to be a few more days. She asked if he was hungry and her said no, but she came back with food from the hospital cafeteria. She set it down on the table and left. He stared at it, but wouldn't eat it. He turned on the TV and as soon as it came on, a voice came on over the intercom system and he couldn't hear the TV.
 Gotta love hospitals. He thought to himself.

#36: Little boy's idea of heaven

The teacher had told her class to draw what their favorite place is and why. When she collected the papers, she saw an assortment of parks and houses, a school, and something else. The teacher wasn't sure what it was. It seemed to be an assortment of people and animals with wings and halos, but it all seemed random. After class, the teacher pulled the boy aside. She asked him what it was that he drew and he replied by telling her that it was heaven. He said that in heaven, all of his pets would be there, along with his family. She asked him why he said his favorite place was heaven, yet he hadn't been there  before.The boy replied by saying that he did not need to go there to know that it was his favorite place. He knew it would be his favorite place because all the people who had loved him and left him behind would be waiting or him to come join them. She asked him if he was looking forward to it and he answered yes and the teacher asked why. The boy looked at her dead in the eyes and said that he was looking forward to it because all the people who loved him were there, and that no one else here loved him.

#35: Serial killer and a cop

He wasn't expecting her to be waiting on him in his house. He didn't know that she was the one. The one who had been committing all those murders. He refused to believe that the woman he had dated and loved was the one who was doing all these terrible things. As a cop it was shameful that he hadn't noticed that all the facts were pointing towards her. The were all pointing towards her. And now here he was, the handle of a butcher's knife protruding from his chest, staring at her in disbelief. Blood dripping from his chin,falling upon his shirt, soaking it a dark crimson color, transferring the color from his face to his shirt, dribbling out of his mouth, the last bit of his life slipped away as his heart, slowing in his chest, finally stopped, and his body, descending to the ground, his lifeless eyes looking up as if staring into the face of he devil. She had killed him without so much as a second thought. She had played him like a fool, becoming the friend of a cop was the sure fire way to avoid suspicion, and now as he lay there, dead, she walked off, leaving him behind, a single tear staining his cheek.

#34: Abandoned Bike

It hadn't always been rusty. t used to shine a bright blue color. Its wheels were flat and the cards that had been stuck on the spokes of the wheels had been ripped and torn. Some of them were missing. Years had gone by since anyone had bothered with that bike. It used to be that a little boy owned that bike and would ride it everywhere all the time, but that by grew older and went to college, not giving a second thought to the bike. He could have donated it. He could have sold it. He could have left it in his parent's garage, but what did he do instead? He left it down by the lake, forgotten. There had been some harsh winters, and very wet seasons, coupled with various storms. Through all types of weather, the bike stood there. Abandoned and left for garbage. Some would say that it's just a bike or that it doesn't matter if someone had left it there, but in all actuality it does matter. No bike deserves to be left out and forgotten.

#33: Reasons to eat your mother-in-law's cooking

I don't even hace a mother-in-law, so this journal entry will be totally made up. It was a random topic that I found online and I needed a topic to write about so I am just going to roll with it. I am not saying that you must eat your mother-in-law's cooking, but I do think it would be a good idea to at least try it, so as to avoid being disrespectful or starting an awkward situation. Avoid these at all costs. It is not like eating her cooking is going to kill you or anything (well, not unless she is out to get you or something, in that case, feel free not to eat it for the sake of saving your life). If it doesn't look burned, chances are that it isn't, so try it just for the sake of curiosity. My grandmother ( my dad's mother - in- law) can't cook anything to save her life, and she knows it so she never subjects us to her cooking. f your mother-in-law however, thinks she is a good cook when in actuality she is the farthest from it, be polite and try some, smile and lie, then (not immediately after) excuse yourself to the bathroom and scrub your mouth until either the taste is gone or your tastebuds are desensitized, whichever comes first.

#32: Typewriter

       The familiar "click-clack" ing of the keys on the typewriter could be heard in the attic. Each keystroke adding another element to the story unfolding on the paper. Each series of keystrokes created a stair step towards the doorway of an unfinished adventure. As the thought inside the writer's mind turned itself into transferrable words on paper, a story is born.  The "click-clack" ing sound not only marked the birth of a story and adventure to be shared with all, but also signifies the beauty and elegance of such a writing utensil. Some were born to speak some to listen, some to teach, and others to learn. But some were born to do something bold and daring and totally original-they were born to write. There are those who can write and those who were born to write. The difference is that while some have to think about writing, for those who were born to write, it comes as easy as breathing. It is an art that comes naturally, as if they breathe in words and exhale stories and novels ready for publication.

#31: I'll be home by midnight

He was having so much fun at the party. It truly was the party of the year. Everyone from school was there, well, anyone who was anyone was there. He was surprised he had been invited at all. After hours of begging and pleading, his parents finally said he could go on three conditions. First, that he didn't drink r do any drugs while he was there. Second, that he would be home no later than midnight. Third, that he would leave if he felt uncomfortable. He had agreed to all of them. They weren't conditions that would be hard to keep. Or so he thought. If her had bothered to look at his watch, he would have realized that it was almost one in the morning. Time flies when you're partying at the beach. People had slowly begun to leave, and now there were only half as many people there than when the party had started. He was a little concerned that so many people were leaving so he checked his watch. His face paled and his knees felt weak as he saw that it was a little past one in the morning. He raced to his car and peeled out of the parking lot. When he got home, all the lights were on and his dad was sitting in the foyer.
 "Glad you finally decided to come home."

#30: He promised me lunch

He said to meet him at the restaurant at 1 in the afternoon on Saturday. It was now three in the afternoon on Saturday and he hadn't shown up. Melissa was getting worried. At first she was mad because she thought she had been stood up but when she asked around, no one had seen him since earlier that morning. She had tried to contact him, but his phone went straight to voice mail. She called his house but no one answered there either. She decided to go home and try to call him again later. No sooner than she entered her apartment did the phone ring. She was expecting it to be him, but it wasn't. It was the local hospital calling to tell her that the "John Doe" they had was her boyfriend. One year later, on that same Saturday, at one o'clock, a woman was seen approaching a gravesite with a picnic basket and flowers. She sat in front of one of the graves and pulled food out of her basket after laying the flowers down on the grave.
   "You promised me lunch, remember?"

#29: Have you seen this girl?

You know whack one I'm talking about. THe one with the bright smile and the laugh that just rings through the halls and the eyes that could melt a heart of stone. That one. The one who seems to have everything to gather and gets good grades. With really nice friends and parents. She's always smiling and is so sweet and kind to everyone. Not many people have a bone to pick with her, but do you really know who she is and what goes on in her mind? Do you know the demons that hide inside her? Do you know that the girl you see smiling and laughing really cries herself to sleep in her room at night? The girl who hides what she's feeling for the sake of others. Yeah, that girl. The one who you think has everything together when really she's falling apart on the inside. She puts on a mask to hide herself from the world she lives in. No, you wouldn't know because she hides it so well. YOu wouldn't know the turmoil in her mind. All you would see is the happy go lucky girl. Have you seen this girl? She's broken and cracked and the super glue holding her together is slipping.

#28: Found his diary under his bed...

He was already awake and in the shower when she woke up. She reached over for her bottle of water, but accidentally knocked it over and it rolled under the bed. She reached under to get it, but her had rested on a surface that was smooth and hard. She wrapped her hand around it and pulled it out from under his bed. It looked like a journal. IT had his name, Ethan A. James, engraved on the lower right corner of the journal. She was tempted to open it, but before she did, she realized that the shower had stopped. Ethan would probably be coming back any minute. She quickly got back under the covers and pretended tha she was asleep. He came in wearing pants but no shirt. As he walked across the room, she saw big scars on his back. She had never noticed them before. She closed her eyes and he kissed her on the forehead before waking out of the room. She quickly sat up and opened the journal. Once she started reading it, she realized it was his childhood journal. She read about things that she didn't know about his past and wondered why he had never told her about those things. The longer she sat there, the more she felt that the man she loved was a mystery to her.

#27: Empty Mirror

It's a strange thought. Another you looking back at you from a different place. It mimics your every move and stares back at you with a blank expression. If you turn your head away, it disappears, but if you turn your head  back around it reappears, capturing a copy of you and the background. It's shiny surface intrigues its audience as it analyzes and copies what it sees, though it does not live. All shapes and sizes it comes in, some as big as a wall, some as small as a watch head. It copies or distorts, mimics or confuses, but it can only see the outside of its audience. It does not possess the power of looking in, because it was only made to show, not to analyze, but Cara did not care. To her, it was always analyzing her and critiquing her. Judging her by what it saw and she judging herself by what she saw. She'd skipped skipped another meal, hoping to ease the judgement. The longer she stared, the more disgusted she felt. She screamed in frustration and pounded her fists agains the mirror until they started tingling with pain. She looked at her reflection with tears in her eyes and said, "Why does it matter?" and she walked away, her reflection slipping away with every step she took, leaving the mirror powerless.

#26: Death at a wedding

It was spring and the cherry blossoms were blowing in the wind. Pink petals floating down and swirling in the blue sky. The wedding was in full swing and the bride looked absolutely gorgeous. Her plump lips matched the color of the petals swirling about. Her white dress portraying her innocence and her sheer natural beauty. The groom, standing at the alter, smiled broadly when he saw his soon to be wife walking down the aisle. He believed this was going to be the luckiest day of his life. His eyes, so focused on his bride, failed to see the dark cloaked figure slowly walking behind her. As he walked, everything seemed to slow down. The grass under his feet shriveled and died. The butterflies and bees fell out of the sky like rocks. The audience turned and looked at the figure with a mixture of awe and terror. In one of the rows a baby began to cry, screaming at the top of her lungs. The cloaked figure reached out a hand, its black sleeve falling down to reveal a hand outstretched and pointing at the bride. Darkness seemed to extend from his bony finger, wrapping itself around the bride’s neck. With a sickening snap, the bride dropped to the ground as a lifeless heap, and the cloaked figure, unnoticed once the pandemonium began, slipped away silently. 

#25: Invisible

"Oops, sorry! I didn't see you there!"
  That's ok, Jack thought, no one ever does. He continued walking through the halls, trying to get to his next class, Biology. He walked swiftly and quietly, to avoid any further awkward collisions. He thought back to middle school where it seemed like everyone wanted nothing to do with each other. Jack missed those times. Now, in high school, everyone had groups that only certain people belonged in. Needless to say, he was not one of those people who belonged. At first, he didn't mind. He figured that he would have found some people to hang out with by the end of freshman year. It was now his senior year and he still had no friends. Not even acquaintances. He didn't belong anywhere. It made him invisible to everyone at school, even the teachers. THey never called on him to answer questions, and sometimes they marked him absent even though he had been sitting there the whole time. At lunch, he just ate in his car as opposed to sitting alone in a sea of people. That just screamed pathetic. He was counting down the days until graduation. Today, though, his car was in the shop, so he had to sit in the ceteris. After getting his food, he found a table in the corner and sat there staring at his food. Just as he was about to eat, a girl with blond hair sat down in front of him and started a conversation. Maybe this year won't be too bad he thought to himself.

#24: Urge to interrupt him before he continued...

Does this bafoon even know what he did? I thought to myself. Obviously he didn't because he continued talking. If we weren't in public I would have done a face palm and then just walked away, but seeing that we were in public, all I could do was smile and nod and act as though he hadn't made a huge mistake in his information and grammar. I opened my mouth many times, try to interrupt him, but then I thought better of it and shut my mouth quickly. I must have looked like a fish on a boat deck the way I kept opening and closing my mouth like an idiot. I just want this conversation to end, I thought to myself. He just kept talking as though nothing had happened. I nudged him a few times but he didn't get the message. I decided to distract my mind and tune out the conversation. I looked around the room to the other people and observed them. One woman was wearing a heels too high and another was wearing a dress that was too tight. After observing all the people, I returned to the conversion, only to find that it wasn't over yet. It was far from over.

#23: Special Evening

Nothing can ruin this night, she bought. She was sitting at the lake with her brother who was finally home from college. The sun was setting and the sky was turning shades of pink and oranges and yellows. The lake reflected the light, making the sunset look like a beautiful mural, set with colorful stones. She breathed a sigh of relief as she placed her feet in the cool water and leaned against her brother's shoulder. She was so glad that he was home. They used to spend every waking moment together, but she hadn't seen him in years. When he came home from school in the summer, she would have already left for her summer job as a camp counselor. Now that he has graduated, they have a lot of catching up to do, their parents were up at the lake house, so they were alone. He was telling her about an internship program he had gotten into. All he heard was that he would be leaving her again. He was the one person who understood her and she wished she had more time with him. It made her really sad to think of him leaving again, so she changed the subject to talk about what college was like. As he talked she felt the vibrations of his voice through his body. She rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb, and suddenly he stopped talking. He slowly pulled her sleeve back and saw the faint white scars on her wrists. Without saying anything, he hugged her tightly, but as the tears flowed down her cheeks, she could only think that soon he would let go.

#22: Me ranting about my stress

  So I have no clue where I was going with the story i was trying to write for my first 20 journals. It is definitely not my best work...actually it is probably some of my worst. Junior year is going to be the death of me. I have been in and out of the hospital because of my migraines and I have been missing a lot of school...hence the reason I have a lot of make up work. I am stressed out to the max. It has gotten to the pint that I have near panic attacks when I walk into school because the stress overwhelms me. I just...argh!!! I see why people drop out of high school now. THis is nuts! I operate on about 4 hours of sleep a day because I am too anxious to get to sleep or I am working on homework and make up work of course all of the angst is doing nothing but making my head hurt worse and slowing me down. On top of that my grades are lower than normal. I have Bs in basically all of my classes and some people might say “oh that is fantastic” but I am different. Bs are like Fs to me. 

#21: Chest of Childhood

           It was in her parent's attic, hidden in the corner and covered with cobwebs. She walked over and kneeled in front of it. She used her hand to wipe some of the dust and webs away. Hidden underneath the ayers of dust and dirt was her name, Ann, written in gold on the top of the wooden chest. It opened with a creak and revealed five toys, all covered with a fine layer of dust. Each toy brought back memories of Ann's childhood. The teddy bear with the orange bow tie and a missing arm reminded her of her grandmother, who gave her the bear a few months before she died. The jacks reminded her of when she broke her arm when she was in third grade, and the candy striper gave them to her to help her take her mind off of the itching that the cast would cause. The baby doll she had had for as long as she could remember. Her parents had bought it before she was born and they shared a crib. THe remote conrol car was from when she had gone through a tomboy phase and she and the neighborhood boys would race them up and down the street. The last toy in the chest was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place where she had seen it before. She picked it up and realized it was Mr. Potato head, but it was cracked and broken. She laughed to herself as she thought of the good times of her childhood and how she wished they were still here.

Just FYI

So for these blogs i just decided to find a bunch of random writing prompts to write about so journals 21 through 40 are going to be just me writing random writing prompts.