ocular rewritten

Writings

• SWC Weekly #4 - story swap (I love this one)
  
• Harnessing Independence
  
• Leap of Faith

SWC Megathreads

• March '24 - Fairy Tales Co-Leader
  
• November '23 - TCTWNW Camper
  
• July '23 - Mystery Camper
  
• March '23 - Mystery Camper

Workshops

• American High School
  
• Maintaining a Consistent Writing Schedule
  
• Realistic Dialogue

Camp Galatians Megathreads

• May '23 - Peace Leader

Leader Apps

• Camp Galatians May '24 Co-Host App
  
• SWC March '24 Co-Leader App (accepted)
  
• Camp Galatians May '23 Leader App (accepted)

Maintaining a Consistent Writing Schedule
pep talk for tctwnw
647 words

Hi, I'm Sienna! I've been a part of TCTWNW one time before, and I hope you're all having as much fun as I did! I'm here to help you out with a topic that so many writers struggle with: consistent writing. This used to be my biggest struggle. Even with the best idea and the most precisely planned plot, it can still be hard to actually write your story.

It's easy to think along the lines of “if only I had more free time,” or “I'll be able to write more after I'm done with…” but I'm here to tell you that these thoughts are the opposite of helpful. We're all very busy with extracurriculars or homework, but you don't need to discourage yourself! I promise it's possible to make time in your schedule without compromising your other priorities.

For me, I have a pretty consistent schedule. I go to school for 7-ish hours, then come home and do homework for 7 hours. It's not fun, and it feels like I have no time to write, but I've discovered a simple trick that's allowed me to worldbuild and plot my entire novel in two weeks. Here's what I do:

• Set aside ~15 minutes (or whatever works best for you) before bed or when you wake up.
  
• Pull out a physical piece of paper (journal, scrap pages, napkins, literally anything). It may be faster to type on a computer, but that can be distracting, and because it takes more time to physically write, you're more thoughtful about your word choice.
  
• Grab a writing utensil that's comfortable to use. You don't want to make the writing process miserable!
  
• If you're plotting or brainstorming, pour out whatever thoughts you have, big or small. I recommend doing this before you start to write your story to use as reference and inspiration to look back on if you ever get lost or unmotivated.
  
• Otherwise, put yourself in your character's shoes and get writing.

This probably sounds very straight-forward and obvious, but it's literally transformed my entire writing experience. I write at the end of the day, collecting ideas in my head from the moment I wake up. Before I go to bed, I'm excited to write and don't struggle with a lack of motivation. Even if I do, I've brainstormed plenty of ideas already, and I can go back and review those to get back on track.

You might be thinking that 15 minutes isn't very much time to write, and you're absolutely right. However, the purpose of doing this isn't to get as many words down as possible. The point is to create a habit. There's a lot of stats out there about how long it takes to form a habit, but all I know is that after about three weeks of consistently reminding myself to write just a little bit each night, it's become automatic to me. Now, I don't put a time constraint on how long to write; that's just what helps you get set into it. I write for as long or as little as I like, depending on how late it is, but now matter what, I always write something, which is way better than not having time to write anything at all.

In the end, do what works best for you. My favorite rule of writing is that there are no rules to writing. This is my suggestion on how to find it in yourself to write each day, and it certainly won't help everyone, but I do hope it inspires you to work toward your writing goals step-by-step. Don't rush yourself; the best writing can't be forced out of you. Enjoy the wild ride that is storytelling, and don't let anything stop you.

I hope you all have the best SWC experience this session, and may the writing odds be ever in your favor! <3

SWC March 2024
Dailies
Weeklies
Word Wars
Writing Comp Entry
Critique for Alaska

Dailies

Daily 30 (218 words)

Hailey woke up in a cold sweat from a horrible, horrible dream. She dreamt that her powers manifested, and she ended up with invisibility. It was horrific. How was she supposed to be the big-time crime-fighter she’d always wanted to be with that power? What was she going to do, sneak up on people? Scout the perimeter? Lose all the glory?
Sure, she wanted to save people. She wanted them to feel protected and secure because of her. The thought of being the reason someone had faith in society was exhilarating. That wouldn’t be possible if her power was invisibility. She wouldn’t even make it on the posters, and if she did, she would be a featureless silhouette, forever in her sister’s shadow. Her sister, who had super strength and super speed. Her sister who had already saved the world more than once.
Hailey couldn’t bear the thought of appearing so worthless next to her own flesh and blood. Invisibility was the worst thing that could happen to her. And the absolute worst part about it, she realized, was that it wasn’t really a dream. She had manifested invisibility the day before, and her family hadn’t known what to say. She didn’t know what to say, so she’d gone to bed and relived it all in her dreams.

Daily 29 (375 words)

“Take care of her for me,” the queen said weakly, gripping her husband’s hand as she lay prostrate on the large hospital bed. A little baby girl cried from a bassinet in the corner, and the queen grimaced, knowing she was unable to help her. She didn’t have any more time, and she would have to trust that the king would raise their daughter with all the love he’d shown her.
The king cleared his throat, trying to cover up a sob. “I will, my love.” He clasped her hand tighter, pulling it in closer to himself as if he could save her by proximity. No one had ever loved him like she did, and he’d had such little time. He knew he shouldn’t let his walls down, but there was something about her that made him want to feel things for once.
They sat together for several minutes before the doctor politely asked the king to leave. He trudged out dejectedly, casting one final glance over his shoulder before the door swung shut behind him. How could one man have so much power — the ability to mobilize an entire army and tear down another kingdom — but be so wholly helpless?
His father had told him he could do anything, and he’d never wanted that. Funny how the moment he finally wished for the power his father promised him, it wasn’t there for him. Just like his father himself, and every other person in his life. Even his wife couldn’t stick around for him.
Not that he blamed her. It wasn’t really anyone’s fault, but if they hadn’t decided to have child, nothing could have happened. He had promised to care for their newborn daughter, but he already knew it would be hard to look into her eyes each day and see his wife reflected back at him.
Of course he wanted to give her the best life she could have. He intended to make sure she was fully provided for, never wanting for anything. He wasn’t sure if he’d have the full emotional capacity to put his all into it, but he certainly had the resources. If he failed in everything else, he would at least succeed in this one most important of endeavors.

Daily 28 (524 words)

I haven’t heard from my brothers in days, and I can’t say I’m surprised. They never did listen to me, even when I was trying to save their lives. They always wanted to be right and to prove me wrong, fools that they were. They couldn’t even acknowledge that I was wiser to fear the wolf in our pursuit.
I tried to save them, I really did. I build a house big enough for three or more, in case others sought safety. They treated me as if I was nothing more than a prepper, even as they rushed for their lives to build their flimsy protections. When my house was done and I heard the wolf approaching, I cast one final glance out across the field, taking in what I knew would be their final resting places, pieces blown away by the mere breeze.
Of course I was upset. Of course I wanted to save them. But I knew they wouldn’t listen. They never did. Now all i can see is straw occasionally floating past my window on the wind, twigs strewn about my lawn. It’s disturbing to see the remnants of my brother’s lives, but I don’t have the heart to go out. I don’t want to clean up the last mess they’ve left for me, duty or no.
When the wolf came knocking, he thought I would be just as easy of a target. How wrong he was. Call me a prepper, but I knew how to keep any unwanted visitors out of my house. More like a brick fortress, really. Deadbolts, security systems, cameras, and more. I’d put thought into every single feature, and it paid off. I only wish I could have helped my brothers too.
I know it’s useless to think back on it now, a waste of time that only leads to my inevitable guilt. I keep trying to tell myself, but it doesn’t matter what I say. I know I’m to blame. I should have tried harder, fought harder to save them. I’m their older brother, and it’s my responsibility to take care of them. I’m usually so responsible, but when it mattered most, I couldn’t push through, and now they’re both dead because of me.
That’s what I’ve been thinking since the wolf began howling outside my door. He’d hoped to blow down my fortess as easily as he’d blown down my brothers’ shanties. For that, he was just as foolish as I was. Sometimes, you need to pick your battles, and blowing down a brick-and-mortar facade isn’t one you should pick. Unlike saving the lives of your family.
I did pick that battle, I really did. My mind keeps cycling between guilt and frustration. On the one hand, I feel like I did everything I could, but on the other, I know there’s always something more I could have done.
I should have done more better, although I did plenty. I should have pleaded with more fervor, although they shut me out in irritation. I shouldn’t have given them a choice. If I had only pushed harder, they could be safe, right here beside me.

Daily 27 (317 words)

You're Not Sorry by Taylor Swift Google Translate
I'm always angry.
i want to come
You have a choice.
Everything you do makes you cry.
I want
I asked a friend
Do you think he is still alive?
But not now.
I don't want to fight anymore. ,
I didn't answer the phone.
Here are the results.
I'm not sick now.
That was a mistake.
But the child did not come back.
except for
It's not boring.
Everything is fine
I don't understand, thanks
I love you always
When I close my eyes
There are hidden places.
Some were injured
I have an important question.
Why does it work?
But that didn't occur to me.
I didn't answer the phone.
Here are the results.
I'm not sick now.
That was a mistake.
But the child did not come back.
except for
I will never forget it.
You don't want to miss it
I wrote it
It does not work.
it's okay with you
But I saw it all.
No need to drive
I didn't answer the phone.
Everything is ready, you don't need to do anything.
And you're not wrong.
But the child did not come back.
Sorry as usual
NO
you are right

I should have listened to you all along. It was selfish of me to think that I could save them all. Selfish of me to send someone so young on that mission. I should have known better.
The program wasn’t successful in the classic sense of the word, but it did bring about some good. We now have essential intel and new strategies for next time to avoid the same catastrophe. I have to repeat this over and over in my mind to drown out my obtrusive thoughts. It helps me to know that we didn’t lose so many lives in vain.
No, the program will continue, despite its risks. And with you sent on a separate mission, it all falls to me. All of it falls on me. Just like before, when you tried to save the kid. You say it’s your fault what happened, but I know it’s mine. I stayed behind, fully trusting that you wouldn’t need backup, that all would be well. It was foolish of me, and the blame rests entirely upon my shoulders.
I couldn’t pick up the phone that day to hear the news. I already knew it wouldn’t be what we needed to hear. I already knew that I’d failed.
If I could do it all again, I would have left you in charge, would have gone in and tried to save him myself. Maybe the mission still would have been unsuccessful. Maybe we still would have lost him, but at least I wouldn’t have the sickening guilt telling me that I should have done more. I would have fought with every fiber of strength within me, like I know you did. I would have stood my ground and taken the blow for him if I was able. I would have done anything to protect him, but I don’t want to fight anymore. It’s far too late for that.

Daily 26 (309 words)

If Neville was the chosen one, the entire series would be different. Personally, I think I would enjoy it more because I adore him, and Harry’s really annoying sometimes. Okay, a lot of times. First of all, let’s explore what would happen to Harry. His family would have probably lived, and he wouldn’t be an orphan. Not to offend any marauders lovers, but I think Harry would be way more irritating if he was raised by James. He’d be even more cocky and arrogant than he already is, and I think that would bother people.
Neville himself would still be raised by his grandmother because the Longbottoms were crucio’d before Voldemort would have come for them. He might have even worse self esteem due to the supremely high expectations that fall on the chosen one. Without that pressure, he already felt like a failure as his extended family tried to make him manifest magic. If he was the chosen one, there would be so many more eyes on him, which I think would lead to a more humble main character, which I’m all for.
Because Neville comes from a magical family, I think the events of the story would be very different, as Harry’s inexperience leadas to many of the main plot points. I’m not sure if Neville would be friends with Ron and Hermione, although I don’t think he’d be friends with Harry. Harry would be a cool kid by virtue of his family, and that would intimidate Neville because of his lack of self confidence.
All in all, I think it would be very tricky to predict how the plot would unfold, but it’s safe to say that it would be a vastly different story with Neville as the protagonist. From family to knowledge to personality differences, there are simply to many factors to take stock of.

Daily 25 (501 words)

The world was cold and gray. The colorlessness of it was felt by every member of society, where no one could support themself and they were stripped of their choices by their circumstances. Families could barely remain afloat through the plight that covered the entire earth, stricken by its hopelessness.
It was clear that something needed to be done, but what? Some called for economic change, some for social reform, and some argued that the world would naturally correct itself, saying that nature always did just that, and this wasn’t any different. The disagreements among the people prevented them from rallying together under any solution. Ultimately, their discord was their downfall.
A few had risen up in an effort to lead the world through this bleakest of times, but none had succeeded yet. Once again, the disagreement among the people prevented them from solving their own problem. If they could only work together, they could bring light and color back into the land.
Before disease and famine struck, the land had been bright, with the greenest of grass, bluest of skies, and the most brilliant colors in between. It was saturated with life and joy that seemed as though it could never come to an end until it did. The plague wiped out millions, turning the vibrant landscape into a dull wasteland, devoid of any signs of life at all.
The world had been desolate and barren for decades before a proper group of heroes rose up to bring the arguing people who remained back together. Led by a stalwart young man, the group amassed members under its singular mission of uniting the land. They brought people to the cause, bolstering their numbers as they grew and grew, taking over the landscape. They all recognized him as their leader, giving him all the power he needed.
When they had reached sufficient numbers, he claimed his presidency and setting to work immediately. He started programs to help the hungry, created jobs for the unemployed, and provided a place for the homeless. He implemented both economic and social programs to appease as many people as possible, and slowly color returned back to the land.
Agriculture boomed once again, bringing the vibrancy back to the landscape. Once the grass and other plants were green again, he turned to the water and the skies, vowing to bring back the blues. He addressed pollution and air quality next, implementing new policies to counteract the gray of their skies.
When the sapphire sky returned, the people cheered. Celebration burst out across the land, and more support for the leader rose. He continued restoring the rainbow to the earth, and no one questioned his legitimacy.
His power grew and grew, unchecked by the people who were too exuberant to notice as he reached and reached. By the time they realized how much more power he had over them and the entire earth, it was far too late. There was nothing they could do about it at that point.

Daily 24 (405)

If I had my own personal hobbit hole, it probably wouldn't be as cool as I wanted it to be. I definitely have a vibe I want, but I'm bad at anything related to interior design or aesthetics. For that reason, I would be forced to hire an architect and interior designer to create my vision for me, and even that would probably best messed up by me living there.
I would like to have a nice, small, cozy little home where I can come home and chill every day. It doesn't need to be fancy. In fact, I would prefer it not to be because, like I said, I would ruin it within a few days of living in it. Everything would be soft, fluffy and warm because this hobbit hole will be my chill zone, and that sounds heavenly. The temperature inside would be freezing so that I can forever be swathed in blankets and eat hot foods.
I would need books, of course, lots and lots of books. I would have shelves lining every wall, all around the edges, down the halls, and in every room. I would leave plenty of them empty at first to allow for more space to grow and curate my personal collection, which would indeed be organized alphabetically by author's last name because I need some sense of order in this chaotic world we live in.
Instead of a TV which would take up valuable wall and book space, I would have a projector with a screen I could pull down from the ceiling. Then I could tuck it away later, and a bonus is that all my friends would hang out at my house for movie nights.
I'd like to have all my furniture and appliances tuck away-able like a tiny house. I need to have full space to lounge about and be lazy while reading a nice novel or writing my stories. I'd also like to have secret passageways to a bookstore and the library to keep up my book collection and keep cycling through my to-read list that I'll most likely never finish.
Lastly, my hobbit hole should be as far from civilization as possible. I want my friends to know where I live and no one else because I like to be isolated and hidden from the world. All in all, my hobbit hole would be very enjoyable to live in for me.

Daily 23
Cabin Wars!

Daily 22 (309 words)

Cassidy stormed through the field, the grass trembling around her feet as she stomped. The mud jumped at her ankles, clinging on the the one stable thing in the world. She let out a dramatically over-the-top sigh, and the clouds converged around each other, as if trying to hide.
Her life was a mess, and the weather around her only seemed to make her mood worse. She had so many things to do and not enough time to do it. She figured she might as well not do it at all because she was going to fail at it anyways.
Birds cried overhead, screeching the agony that mirrored hers. Life was so frustrating, she thought, slumping down into the slouching soil. She plopped down into the grass, ripping up the stiff blades of beneath her hands.
Her brother came skipping out from the house, probably to try to encourage her, and the sun peeked out behind the clouds, as if trying to dispel the gloom in the air. A butterfly alighted on Ralph’s shoulder, its pastel wings flapping gracefully in the light cheery breeze.
Ralph plopped down onto the bright green grass beside her, picking a vivid — almost sickeningly bright — wildflower from the fertile soil and handed it to her.
Surprising, it did make Cassidy feel a little better, even if it was slightly digustingly beautiful, a stark contrast to her bitter attitude. An ant crawled onto her knee, tickling her skin. As she prepared to squash it for daring to disturb her, Ralph let it crawl onto his finger before depositing it safely on a dandelion far from her. He sent her a disapproving look, and the butterfly on his shoulder flapped away in a disgruntled fashion.
“You don’t have to make the world around you as miserable as you are,” he said, picking another flower.

Daily 21 (235 words)

Writing (13 words)
to write is to build
sparkling cities made of light
shining through darkness

To My Hero (141 words)
I want to say thank you
For all that you’ve done
Everything I’ve pushed through
It’s thanks to you that I’ve won

Though you may not quite know
The impact you’ve had
The fruits of your works show
In my life, good or bad

I will never forget
All the kind words that you’ve said
When life makes me fret
They loop through my head

They say blood’s thicker than water
But I disagree
Though I’m not your daughter
You’re everything to me

I’m scared for the day
When you’re gone, without me
I know you can’t stay
But I wish it could be

I’ll never forget you
No matter how long
The times that we went through
Made me feel like I belong

I hope that you’re well
Wherever you are
Your stories I’ll tell
Because you are my star

Untalented (81 words)
I am so bad at poetry
It’s not even funny
I don’t want the world to see
How bad my poem will be

Yet here I stand
With this pen in my hand
Actually it’s a keyboard
Plugged into a cord

I’m glad others like this
I don’t want to diss
Their talents and skills
But my rhymability kills

I don’t know how to end
This poem, my friend
So grab yourself a mango
And off to bed I will go

Daily 20 (407 words)

The king paced back and forth in his extravagant bedroom, pondering how his life had come to such a low. His daughter hated him, he was trying to prevent a war between two other kingdoms at the same time for different reasons, and his own country was rallying for its own civil war. And it was all because of him. His spies reported back what people said about him, and nobody believed he was a praiseworthy man. Everyone in the whole world seemed to have something against him, including his own family, his only heir.
He had done everything he could to allow his daughter a happy life. She was a princess, with anything she could ever want. All he’d ever asked was that she stay in the castle, and she couldn’t even manage that. The worst part was, she didn’t even know that he knew about her little escapades to the outside world. He was still trying to come up with a solution to that problem, but it didn’t seem like the highest priority at the moment.
This was supposed to be a diplomatic time, as all three royal families of the continent came together to discuss peace. Both kingdoms were constantly at each other’s throats, and the king seemed to take the blame for all the trouble.
It wasn’t too hard to understand why. He could never live up to his father’s influence and regal bearing. The First King was a legend, one he could never match. Since his death, everything was his son’s fault. When his wife died and trade with foreign nations halted, he was too blame. When tribal wars broke out again, he took the fall. When his daughter yelled at a prince, he should have taught her better.
The king was always the scapegoat, and he was done with it. He was ready to take serious action, in whatever form it may be. It wasn’t clear who he should take action against; the other royal families, his advisors, his people, his daughter? All he knew was that he needed to do /something/ or he’d lose his sanity, more than he already had.
He had never asked for this life, but The First King had set him upon this path, and he would not allow people, whether they be his subjects, his allies, or his enemies, to push him down. He would conquer every challenge thrown his way by any means necessary.

Daily 19 (402 words)
original list: fiery, passionate, determined, vibrant, tight-knit, homey
synonyms: intense, heartfelt, steadfast, spirited, friendly, welcoming

Adella whirled among the vibrantly colored skirts and suits around her, following the dance Emma had taught her. Partners swapped and spun in a neverending fervor as the band played a cheerful melody for the village. Occasionally, she caught glimpses of people she recognized. The baker, the cobbler, Emma. It didn’t matter if she was near people she knew or not; everyone was a friend here. Around and around everyone went in an infectious pattern of joy.
All around the dancers, shopkeepers called out, selling their homemade wares, from jewelry to homespun cloth to fresh bread.
The villagers didn’t need any reason to celebrate other than their existence. By some miracle of the universe, all of these people had wound up in this location and this precise moment, and that was cause enough to be happy.
This moment was one of the precious times Adella reminded herself of when she was back at the castle. The atmosphere there was the antithesis to the spirited, dancing village only a mile beyond its walls, and she reveled in the contrast.
Here, she could feel her emotions, and it was cathartic. She was comfortable, welcomed, and loved, even by those she had never spoken to. The feeling was truly unmatched in Adella’s short life, and she did her best to capture it in her mind, as if she could preserve it long enough to push through before her next visit to the village. She wished she could stay here forever.
Emma came into view again, her golden gown catching Adella’s eye, and she made her way over to her. The two friends danced together, letting the music guide their movements. They didn’t need to speak to express their care for each other. Emma was Adella’s cover, her protector, and she took every opportunity to thank her for that. Despite her gratitude, she never felt like she could thank her enough.
Adella knew that her friend had come over for more than a dance. She was eyeing Adella, signaling that they needed to talk. It must have been important, too, because neither of them wanted to leave. They made their way toward a side street, inconspicuously twirling away from the bustling town square.
The little alley they ducked into was a stark contrast to the lively ambience of the partying villagers, and the two girls seemed to deflate a little as they slipped into the shadows.

Daily 18 (366 words)
Choose Your Own Adventure Stories

Daily 17 (308 words)
”no grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her”

I drop my gear off at the station before trudging out the creaky door to the dusty world outside. It’s so incredibly hot and dry, but it’s hardly remarkable anymore. I’ve been here far too long to notice the barren landscape, cracked and thirsty.
And besides, there’s too much to think about for the natural world to catch my eye. I’ve been scraping and saving, nearly killing myself in the process. The work is hard, but I know it’ll be worth it when I can see her beautiful smile, her bright blue eyes shining when she sees that I’ve returned. Sometimes that image is the only thing that gets me through the work day.
I didn’t want to leave her, but it was necessary. She’s too good for me, and I want to fix that. I’m working these blasted rails until I can build up enough savings to buy us a nice home. Somewhere far away, with a big yard and maybe a stream nearby. Something as different from this place as I can get.
I want to take her hand and run through a meadow of colorful flowers, laughing as the wind whips at our faces and birds chirp overhead. I want to stare at the clouds and find pictures with her. I want to tell her about my dreams and hear about hers. I want to see her and hear her melodic voice again.
But those are dreams for the future. Right now, I want a glass of water and somewhere to sit and enjoy it.
I won’t let my exhaustion distract me. I’ll work myself to the bone if that’s what it takes to better my position in this harsh world. Nothing can stop me. I’d like to see someone try.

Daily 16 (306 words)

The roar of unruly children echoed in the cafeteria, deafening and mind-numbing. Ignoring her surroundings, Chloe clacked her keyboard aggressively with the final keystrokes of her daily. This was one of the harder ones, but it was finally coming to an end. She sighed with relief when she saw the word count was high enough. Done with that, onto the next thing.
She debated whether to work on the weekly, her own story (Magkoa or character lore sounded very appealing), or cause chaos in the main cabin. Sure, she had homework and things she needed to do, but the best option was clearly to cause chaos. Someone had to liven up the main cabin a little bit, and Chloe was the best one for the job.
She smirked to herself, already plotting her newest scheme. Should she revive an old conflict or create something completely new? Hmm, maybe a little bit of both.
The whole apple scandal had been quite entertaining, and Chloe admitted that she did take at least a little pleasure in the knowledge that she had been the one to start it. There was also the whole Sienna’s-a-goat debacle, and the huge war that snowballed everything together.
“Chaos is fun,” Chloe said aloud to herself, and a girl at a neighboring table side-eyed her very rudely. Well, if she couldn’t take a true statement, that was her problem. It’s not like Chloe even knew the girl anyway.
She’d already tried explaining SWC to someone once, and that was really hard. She didn’t feel like doing it again.
Returning her focus to her computer, she opened up the main cabin. Planning was for the weak; she was just going to send out the first thing that came to mind and see what would come of it. That’s how the most entertaining things always begin.

Daily 15 (422 words)

Lexi wasn’t one to believe in anything mystical or unexplainable. She was a sensible person, preferring to rely on facts and tangible evidence rather than abstract or philosophical ideals. That’s just how she was. Which was exactly why Evan had brought her to see a psychic for her birthday. He thought it was funny, and he usually got what he wanted.
A woman with horrendously large circular glasses stared wide-eyed, seemingly into Lexi’s very soul from across the circular table. Between the two of them rested a smoky crystal ball atop a heavy velvet table cloth. It was incredibly cliché to Lexi. If the woman wanted to be a psychic, she could at least try to stand out a bit.
In a soft, soothing voice, the psychic intoned a chant that Lexi couldn’t understand. She waved her hands in intricate patterns and stared deeper into Lexi’s eyes, causing her to shift uncomfortably.
At long last, the mystic spoke. “You… do not have much time,” she said. “I foresee danger in your near future. An accident of great proportions. Stay indoors today to escape a fate most terrible.”
After a moment, Lexi gave a polite smile, then stood to leave. She left a tip on the table as she swung her purse over her shoulder. “Thank you. That was certainly enlightening.”
Was that nice enough? Lexi didn’t want to hurt the woman’s feelings, but she also didn’t want to sink to her level.
“Uh, and may fortune favor you in your endeavors.” Yes, that was good.
The woman peered up at Lexi just before she left. “You may not believe my warning, and so I will just say this: be careful.”
Lexi nodded, then pushed through the heavy curtains surrounding the room into the bright fluorescent lights of the mall outside. Evan met her with a grin, barely visible as Lexi adjusted to the bright light.
“So, what does your future hold?” he asked with a wry smile. “Let me guess. A birthday cake?”
“Actually, she predicted death and destruction.”
“Hmm, so we should keep the birthday celebrations at your house then? You know, to avoid all that death stuff?” Evan bumped her shoulder, and the two siblings made their way out of the mall.
“I don’t know, wouldn’t want to cause a self-fulfilling prophecy or anything. Might be safer if I left home,” Lexi said, giggling through the parking lot.
“So I guess we’ll just be forced to take you somewhere fun, huh?”
She grinned up at her brother. “I guess so.”

Daily 14 (526 words)

Cassie stared coldly into the eyes of the man across from her. Evan stared back, his gaze equally devoid of emotion. She steeled herself, ready for whatever this confrontation would bring.
“I heard about your sister,” she said, keeping her tone distant. Cassie had never liked Lexi, but she respected her position, even if she had been insufferable.
He gave a little nod, abrupt and obligatory. “Most people have by now.”
Cassie grimaced. She thought he might be a little more conversational. If he started talking, her conscience might feel that her duties of consoling the brother of her rival were fulfilled. Apparently, it wouldn’t be that easy.
She tried again. “I’m sorry about what happened. I know we had something of a rivalry, but it was only professional. I never would have wished any harm to her.”
“Even if it’s awfully convenient for your position?” he asked.
Cassie reeled. How dare he? Did he think she took pleasure in the misfortune of others? And besides that, did he think she couldn’t rise above her competition without eliminating her? She shook her head; she knew she was being irrational. Evan wasn’t really wrong; she only benefitted from Lexi’s accident. With her out of the way, the new editor position would fall to Cassie by default. Sure, there were other candidates, but she was the obvious choice, and everyone knew it, including Evan.
“I won’t deny that my career doesn’t suffer from the loss, but that doesn’t mean I’m pleased about it,” Cassie said, attempting to keep the bite from her tone. “And I really am sorry.”
Evan leaned against the wall, looking away for the first time, a contemplative look in his eye. “You know, Lexi used to talk about you all the time. She said you could be friends if it weren’t for the ladder-climbing. Not that it was just you.”
Had Lexi really said that? It was hard to believe, and yet it made some sense. While Cassie had always been dismissive and sometimes even petty, her rival had never said a single rude thing to her. It was strange to have her world shifted so quickly after a passing comment from someone she hardly even knew.
Unsure how to respond, Cassie stared blankly at Evan. “Really?”
Finally turning his gaze back on her, his deep brown eyes met hers.“Yeah,” he said bitterly. “Maybe she wouldn’t have ended up so lonely if someone had reached out to her.”
A horrible stab of guilt pierced Cassie through the middle. The feeling was indescribable, and she had nothing to compare it to. For the first time in her life, Cassie regretted her actions. Every interaction with Lexi returned to her mind in that moment. Every snide remark, every backhanded compliment, and every time she brushed Lexi off flooded her memory, only serving to twist the knife in her gut.
Cassie had been horrible, and she hadn’t even realized it. And now it was too late to fix it.
As Evan turned to leave, he sent her one last cold stare. Cassie stared back, her mind too wrapped up in her guilt to display her remorse.

Daily 13 (357 words)

Do you remember the last night I saw you? We were sitting together under the Japanese cherry tree in my front yard. There was a light breeze, blowing the hair out of my face and playing with your dark, wavy locks. The pink leaves above us framed the sky’s transformation as the sun set, a constant reminder of where I was and wouldn’t be for much longer. We didn’t need to speak; our future was clear, nonexistent. A chapter of our lives together was coming to an end, before it had ever truly begun in my mind.
After the sun’s descent, we watched the sky change colors, from a glowing fuschia back to a normal blue that deepened and faded away until all that was left was the darkness of night. I liked watching the blues deepen with you beside me. It reminded me of your eyes when you recognized me in a crowd and came to say hello. Did you know your eyes change with your moods? Just like the sky.
We continued to sit in silence as the stars began twinkling into focus, one by one. After a few minutes of staring into the sky, as if seeking answers to life’s hardest questions, I felt your eyes on me. I briefly wondered what shade of blue they would be before turning to face you. They were almost darker, no, deeper than the night sky itself. I held your gaze for a few moments, then returned it to the stars, tracing the familiar constellations we’d mapped out together. I hoped you couldn’t see the tears quivering on my lashes.
You reached for my hand, and I allowed you to take it. The lump in my throat was growing, and I didn’t want your last memory of me to be full of sadness. I forced a smile—hopefully you wouldn’t notice—and leaned my head against your shoulder.
Finally, you spoke. You asked me why i wasn't saying a word.
I swallowed back my emotions enough to get a few words out, holding my voice as steadily as I could. “I'm naming the stars in the sky after you.”

Daily 12 (110 words)

Long ago lived two royal twins, set to inherit the throne together. The prince and princess were raised and trained to rule a nation from the moment they were born, and the duty rested heavily on their shoulders. The princess in particular didn't want to lead the rest of her life in such a repetitive and meaningless manner, so she ran away when she was only a teenager. When she wasn't found after several years, the search parties stopped, and the funeral began. Nearly a decade later, the prince discovers her living among his subjects and decides to bring her back into her royal duties, no matter what it takes.

Daily 11 (369 words)
I’m happy/grateful for my relationship with my little brother, and I’m hoping we can resolve our current conflict.
Update: Right after I wrote this, we had a discussion, and we’re doing etter again. He’s my best friend and I wouldn’t trade him for the world <3

Charlie pushed open the garage door and bounded into the kitchen.
“I’m home!” he called, looking around for his family. His mother was coming into the house behind him, lagging behind as she lugged their many bags inside. They’d needed them since they had been gone for so long.
Willow, Charlie’s older sister, came down the stairs with an impassive expression. “Hi,” she said. She hugged her mother, then eyed Charlie warily. She was upset about something, but he couldn’t think of what that could be.
In an attempt to defuse the suddenly tense situation, Charlie rushed in for a hug. Willow reciprocated, although it seemed obligatory. “I missed you, Willow.”
“You sure did a great job showing it,” Willow said bitterly, taking a step back. “I hardly heard from you at all while you were gone. It’s nice to know I come second to your friends.”
Charlie blanched. Now that he thought about it, he had kind of blown her off over text quite a few times. He’d been so busy with competitions that he hadn’t really noticed.
“I- I’m sorry,” he stammered, frantically coming up with a way to make it up to her. “I just got so wrapped up in everything.”
Willow turned away, ducking her head. “It’s fine.” After a painfully long pause, she added, “I really missed you.” There was a waver in her voice. Did she think that he didn’t care about her?
“Hey, Willow, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you. Honestly, I didn’t even talk to my friends that much. I never meant to hurt you.” He put his hand on her shoulder, gently turning her around to face him.
A single tear slipped down her cheek.
Feeling horrible, Charlie pulled her in for another hug. One that said /I didn’t forget about you. I love you./
Willow wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. Finally, he felt welcomed home.

Daily 10
Critiquitaire

Daily 9
Cabin Wars!

Daily 8 (282 words)

Dorothy Eustis,
It would probably surprise you to learn that almost 150 years after you were born, you’re someone’s hero. I admire so many things that you did in your life, and even though your name isn’t as renowned as Amelia Eirhart or Marie Curie, I think you are just as special. You brought something to my country that revolutionized my way of life. I don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for you, and I’m forever grateful for your determination and resilience in the face of so much doubt. You selflessly sacrificed yourself for a cause that didn’t even affect you, and I that shows how truly unparalleled you are.
Nobody ever asked you to help veterans or the disabled, but the cause called to you and you stood up to rally behind it. Let me tell you: it’s made all the difference. Even if you hadn’t left a mark on history, you would have still left a mark on me. You are the reason for the hope that’s carried me through the darkest moments of my life, the spark that allowed me to stumble forward when all I wanted was to give up.
You probably weren’t expecting your small actions to create a whole new way for so many people around the world, but they did. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I genuinely can’t say it enough. The world needs more people like you who see problems and solve them without even being affected by the outcome. You didn’t receive profit for your work, but you still did it, and for that I can never thank you enough.
- Sienna (asfjkjsf I wanted to write my irl name :sob

Daily 7
3 word stories done (no idea how many words lol)

Daily 6 (275 words)
dedicated to Clev

It’s finally happened. The geese are getting their revenge on me. I knew I never should have set off fireworks near that huge gaggle, but in my defense it was really funny at first.
Now they’ve retaliated. I woke up this morning to find a battalion of geese outside every single one of my windows, honking like there was no tomorrow, which may end up being true for me.
People worry about zombie apocalypses, but I have much more real concern with the goose uprising.
The geese gathered outside my front door and used their combined weight and uncharacteristic strength to break through it. I tried to flee, sprinting for my back door, but my pursuers were just too fast. They cut me off and surrounded me, hundreds of beady black eyes boring into my very soul as the horrific cacophony of their enraged honks threatened to burst my eardrums.
They herded me out of the house and down the street. I was forced to keep pace with them all the way out of town. I walked and walked and walked as the geese flew beside, ahead, behind, and above me. There was no escape.
We’ve been walking for days now, only resting for a couple of hours at a time. I’m exhausted, and the only information I’ve gathered is that we’re going south. I’ve joined the migration, and I can only guess what grand demonstration they’ll use me in when we arrive at the final destination.
Long story short, I angered a couple geese, and they conglomerated into a veritable army, leading me to my inevitable doom. My new motto? Never underestimate a goose.

Daily 5 (226 words)

The New and Improved Chapter 13 of the Westing Game: The Private Eye
He had been exposed—how could he let that happen? Where had his mind been when the phone rang? He always rang the lines. Not this time.
He must have been distracted by the bomb. Yes, that must’ve been it. The competition, the attack, his strange little partner. His mind was on so many things, reminding him of times long past, when his career had been booming (he thought of the explosion again) and there was always something new to discover. Those had been the days.
Now he was only a—well no, that was a cover. At least he had some business to speak of, although its source was admittedly dubious. It didn’t matter; at least he had something interesting to occupy his time with.
His attention snapped back to the phone still in his hand as the speaker on the other end cleared her throat. It was a painfully familiar sound, reminding him of his recent shortcomings.
“I assume you know why I’m calling,” the woman on the other side of the receiver said, her voice clipped, with a hint of satisfaction, a certain quality of “I know something you don’t” to it.
“I can make a guess. And, Judge?” the private investigator said, sucking in a breath. “You can count on me.”

Daily 4 (480 words)
I rolled a 3 (past tense) and a 4 (2nd person).

You heard the announcement from the DJ—a slow song was coming on. Drums began to beat, a little too fast, you thought. Was this really going to be a slow dance? Your eyes swept across the mass of people, searching for their reactions to the music. Everyone else looked confused too. Your eyes landed on a girl. She was beautiful, small features highlighted by the low light and framed by her long, dark hair. Her deep blue dress flared out at the waist and faded into a white where it fell at her ankles.
She was looking around, maybe for a dance partner. You still couldn’t tell if it was a slow dance yet, but it didn’t matter anymore. She must have felt your eyes on her, because she looked up, giving you a full view of her gorgeous green eyes. A smile twitched across her lips, so fast you weren’t sure if it was real. What did that mean?
You made your way over to her, maintaining eye contact the whole way. Maybe it was creepy, but you couldn’t look away. When she was finally in front of you, you cleared your throat. You wanted your voice to sound as clear as possible when you spoke. She blinked up at you expectantly; you hadn’t realized how short she was from far away.
“Hi, do you want to dance?” you said, hoping your voice didn’t waver too much.
She seemed a little surprised, but after hesitating for a brief moment, she replied. “Yeah! Of course.” Was that too enthusiastic, or were you getting your hopes up over nothing?
You introduced yourself, injecting as much confidence into your tone as humanly possible. She gave her name, and the conversation began to flow.
It was incredible—never a lapse in conversation, never an awkward moment, and so much laughter. You talked about as much as you can during a three or four minute song, which granted isn’t very much. Somehow, though, you filled those minutes with so many good feelings.
She was amazing. As the song came to a close, you debated asking for her number. Would that be creepy, or would she feel flattered? You could always play it off as a joke if she refused.
For the first time, a silence passed between the two of you as you worked up your courage. Almost a sadness, as you both realized the dance was done.
She was about to thank you and leave, when you finally blurted out the question you wanted to ask so badly. “Can I get your number?”
She appeared to suppress a grin, then nodded. Had you made her so happy that she couldn’t speak? You could only hope so. She agreed, and the two of you exchanged numbers.
As she left, still beaming, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you imagined what your futures held.

Daily 3 (468 words)

Fairy Tales (111 words)
O great fairy tales
Thy magic vast and strong
Lies in my heart forever
While reality simply pales
To thy glorious splendor

May thy lands be green and fertile
Thy people pleased and proud
To call themselves thy characters
As their shouts ring out so loud

Up to the highest mountains
Beneath the deepest seas
Mingling with the songs so sweet
That lilt upon the winds

Fairies, sprites, and ogres too
All stand together as one
Trolls, elves, princes, and damsels
Hand in hand in hand, all under the same sun

We’ll stand as one together
And let our voices ring
Like those of the magical creatures
Whose confidence we’ll bring

Epistolary (138 words)
Where the ink begins to dry
Is where you’ll find my heart
Though the birds begin to fly
With their letters to impart
Know that you’ll hear from me again
Before the next season’s start

Letter by letter
Flourish and twirl
Pages for the debtor
Envelopes for the earl
Little notes and messages
Make our spirits lighter
And when I hear from you,
I’m taken even higher

I’ve sent for kings and queens
Dukes, duchesses, lords, and ladies
But it’s never quite the same
As when I see your little words
Laid out on the page

I hope my little letter
Finds you safe and well
Take a step from the fetter
Into which you fell

I wish you all the best
Signed, yours truly
As this bird flies from its nest
To you, whom I owe duly

Fantasy (103 words)
Long, long ago, in a faraway land
Lived the lords and their knights
And in defiance they stand
Amidst trials and fights
Against all kinds of beasts
They battle, conquer, and win
Celebrating with grand feasts

The kingdom’s in peril
So what do you say?
The world has gone feral
And we need you today

Step up, speak out
For now is the time
Let out your battlecries, shout
For a future sublime

Fight for your families, fight for your land
Fight for you honor, your home, and your fate
Fight with your ever-reliable band
We will come out victorious, just you wait

Fanfiction (116 words)
We rise from old stories
Each with their own dangers
But we have no worries
The heroes aren’t strangers

We know them so well
For we’ve studied them hard
Their hopes and fates we could tell
And their integrity we’ll guard

But the rebels are stirring
Determined to tamper
Their minds are a-whirring
And we must put a damper

These stories were told
The way they were intended
These changes so bold
The rules weren’t meant to be bended

Look what you’ve done
Mangling these masterpieces
All for the pleasure of one
For these stories you’ve never had leases

We’ll right the wrongs
Of the ornery rebels
And with our songs
The rift of inaccuracy dulls

Daily 2 (308 words)

Cory didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he joined his school’s book club. He was expecting a bunch of introverted, quiet, thoughtful people with no social skills who had nothing better to do than read all day. Not that he didn’t fit the description. The people he actually found were some of the most bubbly and excitable students he’d ever met in his life. Already they’d asked him for his favorite series, first fictional crush, and favorite author. When he’d told them he wasn’t a big reader, they told him that he just hadn’t found the right book yet.
“Are there any authors that stand out to you? You must have read /something/ you like before,” a girl said, tilting her head in confusion. She probably couldn’t believe there was such thing as a person who didn’t enjoy reading. He’d joined this club to make friends in a group that wouldn’t be as intimidating as the track team, but maybe he was wrong about that. They were nice enough, but they wanted him to be like them so badly.
“Um, I don’t know… I read the Alcatraz books from Brandon Sanderson,” he said. “I kinda liked those.”
“Oh! Alcatraz is a very valid starting point,” she giggled. “Rutabaga.”
He wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or if it was meant to be condescending. By “starting point,” did she mean he was beginner level? I mean, it wasn’t exactly /wrong/, but was he supposed to be offended? He decided to play it safe.
“Thanks.” Yeah, that could be sarcastic or kind.
She grinned back at him and led him to the shelves. “Now let’s find you another book… Skyward maybe?”
This could work out. She seemed genuine; he just had to get used to all these book people, and maybe he could be one too.

Daily 1 (1k words)

Hey there! I’m Sienna (she/her), and I’m a reader, writer, typology-obsessed (1w2 INFJ) service dog enthusiast! I’m super excited for SWC this March because last March was my first session, and this is my first time as a co-leader (#FairyTalesFTW). SWC has become a major part of my life because it’s such a great community that encourages everyone to do their best and push themselves to reach their goals—whatever they may be.
Speaking of goals, I have quite a few this session. First of all, I want to try to write 1k words every day (this is helping me hehe), and complete at least 25 dailies and three of the four weeklies. I’m also excited to help lead my cabin’s storyline (no spoilers here), and participate more fully in cabin wars, as well as enter the writing competition for the first time. I don’t have many writer friends irl, so it’s taken me a lot of courage to decide to enter.
Outside of SWC, I also have many other goals. I’d like to get into publishing someday, either as an editor, literary agent, or an actual publisher. I want to write on the side too, but I want to have a reliable career to lean on if I fall into trouble with my writing. As for more short-term goals, I’m on the waitlist to get a guide dog (oh yeah, I’m legally blind lol- feel free to ask me any questions <3). I’ve been waiting for almost two years now, so I’m getting pretty antsy, but I’m hopeful that the wait will be over soon.
In school, I’m on my high school newspaper staff, which I absolutely adore. To anyone looking at high school enrollment, please please consider journalism because it’s such good writing experience. At my school, we do interviews, write articles, design page spreads, take photos, and edit each other’s work. It’s so fun, and I think everyone should try it. This year was my first full year on staff, and I’ve won several regional and state competitions, so I’m hoping I can be an editor next year. Regardless, I’ll still participate and have a blast no matter what role I end up filling.
Next year, I’ll be taking classes at my local community college while finishing out my last high school requirements. I’m going to get a Seal of Biliteracy in French by the end of the year, and I’m taking a Desktop Publishing certification program. I don’t know exactly what I want to major in at actual university, but I know I want to focus on English and Graphic Design.
Outside of school, I have many other interests. I help lead my youth group (I’m Christian, LDS), and I love babysitting. I’m a big reader too, and my favorite series are Harry Potter and Ruby Red. I’m reading the Slayers trilogy right now, and it’s SO good. I’m also reading Keeper of the Lost Cities, but I have mixed feelings on it. I’m not a super huge move fan, but I absolutely adore Spiderman. <33 Peter Parker is my true love and I’m going to marry him someday- I’m talking about the Tom Holland version, but it’s an important distinction because I’M NOT IN LOVE WITH TOM HOLLAND. I think him and Zendaya are really cute together. I just love the character.
Ahem. Anyways, I love board and card games, and I’ve attempted to create my own a few times. Ok, so I’ve never actually finished one, but I will someday; you’ll see. My absolute favorite game currently is Snake Oil, which isn’t super well-known. If you don’t know what it is, look it up because it’s literally the best thing ever, and I feel like it gives SWC vibes haha-
My one true love, however, is not board games, and it’s possible that it’s not even Peter Parker (although not likely). My favorite thing in this whole world is my beloved Kindle <333 I could honestly go on and on about it, but for your sake, I’ll just tell you that I carry it with me everywhere, and I have it on hand more than I even know where my phone is.
I spend most of my time doing homework, reading on my Kindle, messing around on Scratch, and writing (of course). When I’m writing, I hole myself up in my room and listen to Taylor Swift (only her first three albums though) and write by hand because it keeps me less distracted. I’ve also found that writing by hand forces me to be more thoughtful with my word choice, and I’m usually happier with the final product when I do it that way. I have a notebook dedicated to each one of my stories, and when I can’t find the motivation to write, I just brainstorm in there. Anything goes, from lore to character dynamics to “what would this character name themself if they could choose?” It’s important to keep up a writing habit, even if you can’t find it in you to actually write. This has been writing tips with Sienna XD
Other than writing, I’m pretty good at math and social studies. I’ve taken all honors and AP for them, so I feel pretty confident in my abilities. I’m in Honors Accelerated Precalculus right now (but we finished precalc, and now we’re on to Calc AB), and I’m doubling up on AP social studies classes. I actually hate social studies, but all my AP credits will transfer to the colleges I’m considering, so I might as well get them all out of the way. I do love math, but it’s not something I could see myself doing as a career.
Whew, that was a long ramble, but you made it through! I’m super hyped for this next session of SWC. I’m ready to make new memories, improve my writing ,and push the limit of what’s been done before! It’s going to be the best session we’ve ever had <3

Weekly 4 (1820 words)

Part 1: Outline (253 words)

• the (co)leader trio becomes the Archetypes, protecting and preserving fairy tales and their characters (exposition) - Alana can receive glimpses of the future, Sienna can heal wounds, Amethyst can translate ancient runes
  
• life goes on as usual, they get comfortable (ordinary world)
  
• many people start getting pulled into the story, and the Archetypes don’t know why (call to adventure)
  
• they think it’s a normal fairy tale cycle, as people get pulled in occasionally anyways (refusal of the call)
  
• the fairy who made them the Archetypes in the first place tells them to help the Wanderers find their way home (meeting the mentor)
  
• the Archetypes take the Wanderers to their first realm — Snow White (crossing the threshold)
  
• they go through three other realms, fighting two wars and solving puzzles along the way (tests, alliances, and enemies)
  
• they’re trying to find their way out of the last realm, Aladdin (approach to the inmost cave)
  
• they solve the final puzzle, trying to discover who the trapper is (ordeal)
  
• the Archetypes begin to lead the Wanderers out of the fairy tale realms and back to the real world (reward)
  all seems well as people magic themselves out of there (road back)
  
• as soon as people start to flicker away, the trapper appears for the final face-off and grand reveal, but the Wanderers have learned from their Archetypes and fight back, ending victorious (resurrection)
  
• Wanderers escape home, and Archetypes return to their duties, both sides learning valuable lessons that I will decide later (return to the ordinary world)

Recipe
Jim Flabsdz: new character intro (Wanderers)
Frying Pan: introduce a symbol (goats as symbol of progress)
Mango: new conflict arises (cabin wars)
Gurtle: plot twist (trapper returns)
Goats vs. Apples: open ending (trapper drama)

Part 2: Exposition (252 words)

The air was thick with dust and the stench of mold. Three girls stood in the midst of a vast, long-abandoned library. The shelves stretched beyond their view, and there were no walls in sight. One of the trio wandered to a nearby table, coated in dust so thick it must have been centuries since it was last disturbed. She reached for the single book lying in the middle of the table.
The cover was probably red at some point in a time long past. Its faded edges were gilded in intricate swirling patterns. The moment the girl touched its surface, a light flashed throughout the library, its luster blinding all three of them. Through the haze, a regal winged silhouette slowly came into view holding the now vibrant book, the only thing they could see clearly.
Whereas before its pages were crinkled and its cover worn, it was now pristine. The figure — a fairy perhaps — spoke, saying, “This is the gateway to the fairy tale realm. As you are the first to discover it in quite some time, you shall be the Archetypes, keepers of the realms and protectors of the characters. Do not let anyone else find this book. Do not let them read it. It only spells danger for those who are not granted its authority.”
The light faded, and the three girls found themselves in a dark forest, lit by fireflies and glowing flowers. They weren’t sure yet what their mission was, but they intended to fulfill it.

Part 3: Story (1315 words)

The Archetypes flashed back into their home realm, each carrying a drenched and unconscious goat. They had just returned from the Billy Goats’ story, which had gone horribly wrong. That one in particular would take more time than usual to resolve. They set the goats down somewhere warm and dry, planning to return shortly, then made their way back to the clearing that acted as their home base.
As they crested the hill just before their destination, the clearing below came into view. Alana gasped at the sight that met them. Their once-vacant home was now practically bustling with people. Not just any people either — real world people.
“What are we going to do? How did they even get here?” Amethyst asked nervously.
“We’ve been protecting the book. Someone must have tampered with something,” Sienna said, scouring the crowd, eyes narrowed as if hunting down the culprit.
Alana cut in, “Hey, we don’t need to freak out. I’m sure this is all a mistake. Fairy tales are like that sometimes. They might even return home magically on their own.”
Before anyone could respond, the fairy who had called them to their position flashed in front of them to deliver a message, brief as it always was. “An external force has brought the Wanderers here. Get them home, and find out who’s responsible. The fairy tale realms are at stake.”
She blinked out as suddenly as she had appeared, and the trio made their way to the Wanderers in a daze.
“I’ll explain what’s going on,” Alana said, always the responsible one. She called the crowd to attention and eloquently delivered the news and backstory to the gathered throng.
When she had finished, most of the people stared back in shock, but one of them — apparently her name was Chloe — peppered the Archetypes with questions.
“Who’s the trapper? How did this happen? And who are you three really?”
Ignoring her, the Archetypes conferred among themselves, deciding to split up into three groups. That way, they could teach their groups skills they’d need to escape. Alana would teach divination, Sienna healing, and Amethyst translating. It was also proposed that each group could take care of a goat, which was immediately accepted by the Archetypes as well as the Wanderers.
Once equipped for the long journey ahead, the Archetypes divied up the groups and set off to their first realm. They arrived in Snow White with no difficulty and immediately set to work on finding the first realm key. The Wanderers searched high and low to find anyone who needed their help (and who could help them get a key in turn), quickly discovering that the seven dwarfs were hiding Snow White.
They helped out the dwarfs with little trouble and only one minorly major war involving apples, goats, toads, and unsurprisingly caused by Chloe. Once the war was resolved and the dwarfs had what help they needed, the Wanderers made their way to the next realm — Beauty and the Beast.
In their newest realm, they solved many puzzles to assemble the perfect feast as a favor to the Beast, who wanted to impress Belle. Matty led the charge in deciphering the codes, brilliantly decoding each crossword to find the answers. After the feast, the Beast was so pleased with the results that he granted them with the next key, allowing them to progress to their next stage.
Throughout all of the Archetypes’ and Wanderers’ work, they also cared for their respective goats, and the three siblings recovered at a miraculous rate. Flounder got back to taking care of his siblings, Tinkergoat got back to causing shenanigans, and Fern returned to her schemes against her middle brother. They were basically ready to return to their tale, but the Archetypes decided to let them stay until the Wanderers could return home.
As they were about to embark for their next realm, a war began, mixing the real world with the fairy tale realms as the Archetypes had feared. The Wanderers fought the enemy while Alana, Sienna, and Amethyst struggled to maintain the balance and prevent the rift between the realms from growing. Everyone fought valiantly, winning glory for the fairy tale defenders.
As the battle came to a triumphant end, the group prepared for the next realm, now equipped with more knowledge and skills. To Sienna’s great pleasure, they arrived in the realm of Rumpelstiltskin, a quaint village where not many interesting things occurred but interesting people abounded. The Wanderers explored and collected clues, piecing together the next puzzle to move on. This realm was suspiciously uneventful, so they pressed on to the next realm after getting the key.
When they arrived in Aladdin, everything was once again strangely calm. They searched for clues and solved the mini mysteries throughout the realm without any opposition. The ease at which they continued to progress unsettled the Archetypes, who thought something must be happening behind the scenes. Although wary, they continued to encourage the Wanderers as they pushed on.
When the final key was earned, finally allowing the campers to return home, a collective sigh of relief passed through them all. Alana brought the four keys together and began casting the spell that would open a gateway back to the real world. The air shimmered before her, and a bustling city street came into view through a circular portal now hanging in the air.
The Wanderers approached the portal, but before anyone could step through, a figure materialized in front of them, stopping their progress.
Sienna gasped. “I knew it was you!”
“What? What are you talking about?” Amethyst asked, narrowing her eyes.
“The trapper! That’s the trapper!”
Alana’s expression shifted as realization dawned on her. They needed to capture the trapper before they could get away. She called out to her group, asking them to use the future-predicting skills they’d learned to anticipate the trapper’s moves. At the same time, Amethyst told her group to use the things they’d learned from the runes across the realms, and Sienna prepared her group to heal if necessary.
While these brief conversations took place, the trapper stood there, smiling to themself, believing there was nothing that could stop them. They would entertain the Archetypes’ little games. The Wanderers and Archetypes organized themselves, and the battle began when they all began hurling apples at the trapper, who seemed unfazed, dodging their projectiles.
Alana’s group charged forward, deciding that close combat would be best. Amethyst’s group rushed the trapper as well, and Sienna’s stayed in the back lines, ready to help where necessary. Now surrounded by enemies, the trapper appeared more nervous. The battle was brief but fierce, Wanderers throwing apples (and a few frying pans), and the trapper deflecting them with a magical force field. It would have been a stalemate if not for the three goats that rushed on the scene at the last minute. They surrounded the trapper, bleeting angrily and brandishing their horns. The trapper stood in shock, and in the moment of hesitation, Alana jumped in to grab their arms, pinning them down.
They struggled to get free, but Alana was magically strengthened. As the realization dawned that they’d won, cheers rose from the gathered throng. The Archetypes sent looks between each other, unsure what to do next. They weren’t sure what to do next.
A familiar flash of light burst through the clearing, and the fairy they’d seen so many times came into hazy view. Without a word, the fairy snapped and the trapper vanished. The light silently faded away, taking the fairy with it.
Everyone stood frozen, looking around at their fellow Wanderers as if thinking they were seeing things. Shaking her head, Alana’s face took on a smile once more as she called for everyone’s attention.
“I’m not sure exactly what happened, but we can rest at ease now,” she said. “Now let’s get you all home.”

Part 4: Critique
Blau's Critique

Weekly 3 (1525 words)

Part 1: Plot Points (300 words)

• Inciting Incident: Janet Is called to the case early in the morning on a Monday. It’s a bank robbery, but it was digitally hacked and robbed. The perpetrator came into the bank, disabled its systems, and logged into the computer to transfer a large amount of money to a reloadable debit card.
  
• Rising Action: Clues are discovered, such as the fact that the debit card traces back to a pair of siblings, roommates who happen to be very poor yet very happy. They don’t seem to be the criminals because they don’t have the card, so Janet goes on a wild goose chase to track down the new owner of the card, as well as find motives for the robbery. What purchases have suspects made lately?
  
• Climax: The card is traced back to the brother of the video gamer, who previously claimed to have no knowledge of it. The brother reiterates that he was asleep at the time of the crime, while his brother was playing video games the whole time. The sleeper is arrested for his weak alibi and strong motive.
  
• Falling Action: As the police arrest the sleeping brother, some suspiciously expensive item is glimpsed in the video gamer’s bedroom as the pass the doorway. Janet goes in to “talk” to the brother, although she really only means to investigate. The police leave, and Janet realizes the brother is an accomplice, or even the sole perpetrator. The brother traps her in the room alone, threatening her.
  
• Resolution: A police officer who had stayed behind (maybe Janet’s partner) bursts into the room after recording the conversation and wrestles the man to the ground, arresting him too. The trial finds the correct perpetrator (because the two were working together), and all is well in the world of banking once again.

Part 2: Red Herrings and Clues (206 words)

• The money was transferred to a reloadable debit card, which was purchased from an electronics store in a nearby town. The store sells devices, video games, and servicing for technology.
  
• The store is reluctant to share who purchased it, but when they do, it’s revealed to be one of their associates, a man who reviews their games and tech for them. They don’t know much about him, but they give the info they have.
  
• The worker lives with his brother in a small apartment nearby. He says that he gave the card away to his friend on his birthday, and he doesn’t know where it is now. He gives the original amount on the card (which is suspiciously high to give away for a birthday).
  
• The brother doesn’t have an alibi for the night of the robbery, as he can only say that he was sleeping. He repeats many times that his brother was up all night playing video games.
  
• The friend is incredibly wealthy, with lots of recent big purchases and a very opulent house. Constant extortion is very highly likely because he doesn’t have a very high paying job.
  
• The brothers corroborate each other’s alibis, even though they aren’t very strong to begin with.

Part 3: Interview with Fawn (159 for questions, 232 for answers)

“Where were you at the time of the crime?”
“Why, I was resting my tired eyes of course. I haven’t slept in ages.”
“A likely story- So at the time of the robbery you were asleep? Do you know anything about what transpired?”
“Nope I was completely unaware of this unfortunate mishap. Man, I wish I could give you some useful information.”
“Information's circulating that your brother was involved. Have you spoken to him recently?”
“Hmm…my brother? Well..interesting topic. All he does is play video games. I have no idea what else he’s been up to.”
“So you're completely unaware of any activities he's been up to lately? Does he have any potential accomplices?”
“I’m not sure what he’s been up to. He pretty much keeps his business to himself as do I. Ohhh do you think he’s part of the crime?”
“Perhaps… During the robbery a large sum of money was stolen- You wouldn't happen to have made any big purchases lately would you?”
“Hehe well…I did go on a big shopping spree with one of my best friends not too long ago. But we literally just stocked up on tie dye stuff. Nothing too interesting I suppose.”
“How about your brother? Has he splurged on anything lately?”
“Oh yeah! He goes crazy spending money on his games. And he does it nonstop too. I keep telling him not to but he ignores me! Such a fool ahhh”
“I see- And was he just holed up in his room while you were *ahem* /sleeping/ at the the time of the crime?”
“Yup exactly! Man you’re quite the genius. Whoever the criminal is has to be on the lookout for you. You seem to remember every single detail. I like it!”
“Thank you, I pride myself on my investigative skills. Just one last question: If you were to commit the crime, how would you do it? Hypothetically of course ”
“Okay, so hypothetically, I would stop at the nearest gas station and sneak all of the chocolates into my purse. I can’t help it. I’m a chocoholic mwahaha”
“Ah, I can understand that- Thank you for your time; this has been… enlightening.”

Part 4: Story (628 words)

Janet’s phone vibrated incessantly in its weak attempts to rouse her from her slumber. She told herself it would go away if she ignored it long enough. Unfortunately, she wasn’t so lucky. Whoever it was kept calling for several minutes, until she couldn’t resist it any longer. She rolled over and snatched her phone off the table, smashing the pick up button and shoving the device against her ear.
“What is it?” she said into the speaker.
“We need you down on 21st,” the voice on the other side said in a clipped tone. “There’s been a bank robbery. It’s urgent.”
Then he hug up. Insufferable man. She didn’t feel guilty any longer for ignoring his call. She pulled herself out of her cozy bed and made her way to her dresser. She’d need to be ready for whatever would greet her at the bank.

As she pulled into the bank’s parking lot, she took in the flashing lights from the many police cars around the bank. What had happened? Was the suspect still in the building?
She stepped out of her car and made her way to the front. When an officer tried to stop her, she simply flashed her badge and swished past him, her heels clicking against the pavement. Maybe it was presumptuous to assume she’d have clearance inside the building, but that had never stopped her before.
Janet pushed through the bank’s front doors, preparing herself to be met with chaos. She blinked in surprise, staring at the people standing around the front desk, casually leaning against the wall and chatting.
Her partner made his way over to her, seemingly undeterred by her confusion. “Glad someone decided to wake up,” Theo said snidely.
Janet ignored his dig. “What kind of robbery is this? This sure looks like hard work here.”
“It was digital,” he said, narrowing his eyes at the implication that he couldn’t do his job. “Someone transferred a large sum of money onto a card using the bank’s computers. It should have been impossible. They just got a new security system.”
“Nothing’s impossible. Even you solving a case for once.”
He sneered. “Or you showing up to a crime scene at 3 am.”
She shrugged innocently, pushing over to the nearest computer. “Can we track the transfer?”
Theo responded with a sigh. “What do you think we’ve been doing this whole time? Standing around waiting for you to grace us with your presence?”
“Exactly,” she said, smirking over her shoulder at him. She eyed the computer, unsure how to proceed. Janet wasn’t very good with technology, but she didn’t want to appear incompetent in front of her already smug partner. Instead of trying to search the computer, which appeared to be logged out, she turned to the man standing nearest to her.
“You. What have you heard about the transfer details?” she said briskly.
He stammered, desperately trying to come up with a response. “N-no news yet, sir. I mean ma’am. Miss? Uh… we’re waiting for intel to come back.”
Nodding to him, she whipped back around to Theo. “Seems like even the intel’s been waiting for me. Did you even tell anyone I’d be here?”
“Well, I assumed that my presence would tip them off,” he said with a shrug.
“Oh, nobody even knows who you are. Go ask that officer over there if she knows your name,” Janet said, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t see how that would be very productive.”
“It would make me feel better than I do just sitting around here doing nothing. It would be entertaining at the very least.”
Their conversation was interrupted by an announcement from the very officer she had addressed. “We’ve got info on the transfer. Come on over to see it.”

Weekly 2 (1551 words)

Part 1: Flowers (650 words)

My father’s nickname for me was always sweet pea. I don’t think he knew what it meant at the time; I certainly didn’t. I found out much later.
Before he left for the war, he gave me a bouquet of them, promising he’d return someday with a fresh one. Once he was out the door, I buried my nose in the flowers, letting their overpowering aroma fill me, pushing out the painful emotions I wanted to forget. My father was gone, but only for a little while.
I put the flowers in a vase next to my bed as a reminder of his absence. I was young, and I told myself that I wouldn’t need a fresh bouquet of sweet peas because he’d be home before this one wilted.
I would lay on my bed next to that vase, drawing the flowers and writing stories to share with my father when he returned home. Their vibrancy reminded me of butterflies. I imagined them fluttering away, only to return to their place a short time later. My father was like that—he was gone for a time, but he would be back. I was sure of it.
When the flowers began to wilt, I pushed back the panic threatening to tear away my breath as it did for my mother every day. As nonchalantly as I could muster, I hung the flowers, hoping to preserve their beauty and my hope.
Once completely dry, I put them back in the vase. The butterflies looked a little less alive, less free. I hoped my father wasn’t losing pieces of himself too.
As the months passed, then a year, I continued to draw the sweet peas, and my father sent letters occasionally. He seemed less himself, less prolific in his writing. I decided to send him the best piece of my hope I could.
I pressed one of the sweet peas into my sketchbook, then sent it with my mother’s next letter to him. He mentioned it in his next letter, thanking me for the solace I had provided. I was relieved to have made a difference.
My father’s letters grew less and less frequent, until they stopped altogether. My mother’s state worsened as we waited and waited for the next letter that never came. Desperately trying to hold myself together, I sent another pressed flower from my bouquet. Still no answer.
At the beginning of each week, I sent my father another sweet pea. And every week, I was disappointed without an answer. The despair threatened to consume me.
My bouquet continued to dwindle until there was only one little blossom left. One lonely butterfly. My last shred of hope.
Pressing that flower felt like crushing my own heart. Mailing it felt worse. I waited and hoped longer than I had ever waited and hoped before. That flower /would/ reach my father. I knew it.
But I never heard back.
Some time later, my father was reported missing in action. He was made a little gravestone in the town cemetery, and my mother and I visited him every week. I couldn’t bare to see that little patch of grass as empty as the vase next to my bed, as empty as my heart.
When my mother took me to find flowers for my father, I knew what I wanted to leave him with. I wanted him to have the same sweet goodbye he had left me with, and maybe they would provide him the hope they had provided me.
As I settled a fresh bouquet of sweet peas against the stone, a butterfly came down and settled on my shoulder. It fluttered its wings before diving downward, landing among the flowers at my feet. It blended perfectly with the beauty of the pastel flowers around it, and I knew, with certainty, that my father had returned home with his fresh bouquet of sweet peas.

Part 2: Constellations (300 words)

Costa regarded the world below curiously. Her attention snapped back and forth, whipping between events in a myriad of emotions all at once; she couldn’t focus on any one thing. Nothing was interesting enough to capture her attention for very long.
She internally groaned in frustration. Why was the world so boring? Humans did amazing things, but the truly extroardinary events were few and far between, which did not suit Costa’s interests at all.
All she wanted was a good story. That’s all she’d ever wanted. It was more than a mere desire, though. It was her purpose. She chose the stories that would be immortalized in the stars. The tales that would be painted across the sky. The last thing she could control in this world was the night sky, and she wasn’t going to take that lightly.
She liked to think of herself as similar to the most prestigious publishers in the world below, forever scouring the furthest reaches for a story worth sharing. Except hers was a more important mission, because whatever she published would be seen by the entire world, no marketing needed.
Her attention was diverted to a small town in a rural part of the world (Costa didn’t bother to learn the names of places as they changed to often), where a child was learning to ride his bike for the first time. Despite its sundry nature, this moment was among those with the greatest emotional impact on people, even more so than the grand stories of good versus evil or the triumphs of heroes. Costa couldn’t figure out why.
A sudden urge to create a constellation to represent these moments filled her. How would one accomplish such a task? The thought was entertaining, and Costa couldn’t wait to take it to new heights.

Part 3: Aesthetic

Part 4: SWC Fanfic (601 words)

The three billy goats made their way over to the grand, arching bridge connecting one side of the river to the other. They intended to cross over, where the grass was greener and there were fresh flowers to eat. They had travelled for a whole day to make it to the meadow on the other side of the river.
The trio didn’t anticipate anything bad would happen. They trusted their oldest brother, Flounder, and they knew that they could get through anything if they stuck together.
When Flounder stepped onto the bridge first, leading the way, a hulking troll jumped up right in his face, prepared to devour him and his siblings. Flounder was unfazed; he knew exactly what he needed to say to progress through the story. Sure, there was a little danger, but he knew how to get through it.
As he prepared to talk the troll down, his younger brother Tinkergoat came barrelling at the troll, head lowered to reveal his puny horns. Flounder’s eyes widened in horror, fear enveloping him for the first time on the journey, and the youngest goat, Fern, cowered behind him.
After a brief moment of shock, the troll decided he was completely unconcerned. He plucked Tinker up off the ground as if it were no trouble and flung him into the river below.
The two remaining goats couldn’t even hear the splash assuring them of Tinker’s safe descent.
Trying to keep a clear head, Flounder told his sister to run across the bridge while he distracted the troll. He knew it was stupid, but he needed to do it to protect Fern. He readied himself to headbutt the creature, just as Tinker had done. This time though, his intent wasn’t really to hurt the troll. He knew he’d never make it before he was caught.
As he charged across the bridge, he saw a blur out of the corner of his eye, hopefully Fern making it across. Flounder got much closer to the troll than Tinker had, owing to his greater size and strength, as well as the confusion from the troll as he tried to handle two goats at once.
The troll snatched Flounder up from the cobblestoned bridge beneath his hooves and tossed him over the short wall, down into the rushing river below. As he fell, he scanned the water, desperately searching for his hot-headed brother to no avail.
Flounder hit the water, and he heard Fern splash near him shortly after. So his plan hadn’t worked.
None of the goats knew how to swim, and terror sliced through Flounder’s heart. He couldn’t save his siblings. The three of them were going to die, all for a patch of greener grass. His last thought before falling unconscious was that he hoped Tinker and Fern could forgive him.

“I’ve got one!” Sienna called, hefting a brown and white goat over her shoulder and carrying him to safety.
“Me too!” Alana replied, holding a bigger goat.
Amethyst’s gaze darted back and forth across the water, until she saw the small form of the last goat. “Found her!”
The Archetypes had saved the three goats from certain death, but they couldn’t just reset the tale; the goats weren’t in good enough shape for that. They would have to help them return to health before repeating the story, and they knew just the people to help.
Before vanishing from the fairy tale, the trio each left a bouquet of sweet peas to mark the area they would need to someday return to.
Then they flickered away, vanishing as if they were never there.

Weekly 1 (3120 words)

Part 1: Myth (490 words)
Orpheus and Eurydice - Dystopianized

The world hadn’t been a place to celebrate for as long as anyone could remember. Families were torn apart, moved to work in the area of their highest skill. The government knew that if the people felt isolated, they couldn’t stand against it. The only thing that remained constant was the work. Orpheus was a carpenter, building furniture and parts for machines day in and out.
Among all the sawdust and varnish, he never would have expected to find love—but he was very wrong. Eurydice fell into the woodworkers’ group, which happened to share spaces with the carpenters, although they did slightly different work. Each day after he finished up his tasks, he’d talk to Eurydice, and they grew closer and closer.
Eventually they applied for marriage, and when their request was accepted, word spread quickly. Orpheus and Eurydice were quite popular, and word spread very quickly about their romance. Many people intended to go to the wedding and rallied together behind it.
The unity the love story created for the people worried the government, and its most important leaders devised a plan to tear it down.
On the day of the wedding, just before the ceremony, Eurydice was transferred to a new sector far, far away from Orpheus’s. To the people, it appeared as if she had left him at the altar, but Orpheus knew better. He knew how deep their love was and that she would never abandon him without warning. He demanded that the officiant tell him where he could speak to someone important, and the little man was so afraid that he consented.
The officiant sent a man named Charon to take Orpheus to the leaders, deep underground in their sanctum. When he arrived in the innermost room, he found himself surrounded by the most powerful people in the world.
Orpheus pled his case with Eurydice with such skill in his words that all the servants, from Charon to the youngest maid girl, wept for him. Even the leaders were touched, so they promised to bring the two of them together again if Orpheus trusted them. He agreed, and just as he was about to leave, he turned back, hoping to find some reassurance in their expressions.
The leaders were angered, taking this as a sign of ingratitude and mistrust. They rescinded their order to have Eurydice’s files transferred back, and swore to never let Orpheus see her again.
Orpheus was escorted out of the building, wracked with grief. All he had left were the words Eurydice and he had shared, and he wrote stories of their experiences together. Orpheus never loved another, and the pain in his heart never diminished.
Even with his last breath, he let her beautiful name die on his lips, ready to meet her in the afterlife. It’s said that he shares his many stories with her even still, and they are now happily together at last.

Part 2: Hi-Fi (311 words)
If These Walls Could Talk

If these walls could speak, they wouldn’t know where to begin. The world outside is full of lush vegetation, vibrant with life. Countless birds singing in the plentiful trees as squirrels, rabbits, and other small woodland creatures skitter across the soft grass below. There have been storms, hurricanes even, and the most beautiful sunrises and night skies.
But so much has happened inside the walls that they might not have even noticed the world outside brimming with beauty.
First there was a young couple with a few children. There was so much love, laughter, and joy in those times, but they didn’t last for long. The kids grew up and had kids of their own, bringing them back to the space within these walls to meet their grandparents. From then on, there were freshly baked cookies and cinnamon rolls regularly.
One day, a young mother with two children moved in with the grandparents, desperately in need of help. The daughter was going through surgery after surgery, and they couldn’t afford to stay anywhere near the doctors. The grandparents gracefully took them in, and they became as close as any family. They read books to the two young children and ran around the house, playing with them as they’d done with their own kids.
Once again, the laughter had returned, and it meant the world to the little girl with so much pain. She found a loving home there, a life she hadn’t known in years. When the family finally left, ready to strike out on their own, the parting was a very tearful one, but they knew they’d meet again.
Even the house was full of melancholy that day, more than it had ever known. Oh, if these walls could speak, they’d tell of love, family, friends, and hope. If these walls could tell stories, they wouldn’t know where to begin.

Part 3: Fairy Tale (818 words)
Mixing in a Little Magic

I can’t believe it; I’m on my way to the palace. This feels illegal for some reason, and it’s exhilarating.
My family wouldn’t ever even know I was there I looked so different. With a stunning blue dress worthy of a princess, every single hair in place, and a pair of chic glass slippers to add some height, I looked like a different person entirely.
When the carriage arrived at the door to the palace, I stepped out with as much grace as I could muster and headed up the steps to the massive double doors. A guard stood on either side, but neither of them batted an eye as I passed. They didn’t doubt that I should be there.
As I entered the ballroom, my eyes widened at the sight of hundreds of swirling skirts of every color, shimmering in the warm light shed by the immaculate crystal chandeliers far overhead. Servants bustled among the crowd, bringing food and drinks and making sure everything was in order. A full orchestra was set up in one corner, and the sweet strains of their song began to die.
A new song began, a slow waltz sure to make someone swoon. I wandered the floor, searching for a dance partner. There were so many people, all searching just as I was.
As I passed a woman in a voluminous magenta gown, I turned back around and found myself face-to-face with the most beautiful man I had ever seen.
I was too busy taking him in to notice when he asked me to dance, and then too confused about the question to answer. He repeated himself, in a rich baritone I noted, and I let out my agreement in a horribly strangled voice.
We twirled and stepped amongst the many other dancers for almost the entire song before I realized one crucial detail. Examining the man’s face, horror bloomed in my heart. This was the prince.
I continued to dance as if I’d known who he was all along. How long is this song anyway?
When it finally came to a dramatic end, I thanked the prince as politely as possible, then began to edge away. It was a shame, really. I enjoyed his company. And that was not good.
Before I could complete my escape, he took my hand gently in his and asked for another dance.
Dang it.
Everyone was probably watching me, and I couldn’t pretend to belong there. This was a bad idea. My mind continued to spiral, not helped by the prince’s shining green eyes gazing down at me.
Maybe I can do this; at least I look the part. I just have to be out of here before midnight. And besides, where’s the harm in having a little fun?
Biting my lip and trying not to grin, I consented, and we danced. We danced all night. We had so much fun together chatting, laughing, and staring—a lot—that I didn’t notice how late it was until the clock struck twelve.
Panicking, I pulled away from the prince during a lively song and rushed for the door. Was the dress shimmering a little too much? I ran out the front doors, startling the guards to attention.
I could hear the prince running after me, and the guards must have assumed I was in trouble for something, so they ran too.
I could barely walk in these heals, let alone run, so I paused around a corner to take them off, hoping to have one keepsake from tonight. I didn’t have enough time. I’d barely gotten one off when a guard caught up to me.
My options were limited. My one escape was blocked by a guard, and my only resource was a glass slipper.
I hurled the shoe as hard as I could at his face, then took off like a shot when he stumbled backward. I yanked the other heel off as I ran, unfazed now by my pursuers. I tore into the woods and climbed the tallest tree I could find, shredding my once gorgeous dress as I went. At least I knew it wouldn’t be around for much longer anyways. I could already see its former pink tones peeking through, and it was losing its shimmer.
I heard the guards and the prince dash by underneath me, but I knew they wouldn’t find me. I was safe from humiliation and wracked by the miserable life I’d have to return to.
How was it fair that I could have a taste of one wonderful night and then return to where I came from? A tear slipped down my cheek, and I wiped it away. I took several deep breaths, then slipped down the trunk of the tree.
Making my way back home reminded me of everything I would never have.
All I could do was hold on to the hope that this wasn’t my ending.

Part 4: Folklore (651 words)
Oral Retelling

“Where was my mother from?” Adella, the little princess asked.
Her tutor rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s quite a long story, Your Highness, but I suppose it could serve as an important lesson in history. Very well.”
The young girl beamed, thrilled to hear a story about the woman she’d always wanted to know.
“Before I can explain your mother’s origin, let’s start with a brief history of our own nation. Not so long ago, what we now know as Talin was merely an amalgamation of many peoples struggling for survival. It was a lawless time, punctuated by too many robberies and murders to number. In order to preserve their safety, people formed into bands, vowing to protect those within their own band at all costs.
“While this did prevent minor disputes among individuals, it created the first major wars seen on this land, as bands clashed over land and resources. It was a very dark time to live in, no doubt about that.
“A man rose out of a small band with a strong sense of duty and purpose. He swore to unite the land by any means necessary. He married into a larger band and forged many powerful political alliances. As his followers grew in numbers, more alliances of marriage knit the many differing bands together in one.
“As soon as enough bands merged under his power, he set about conquering the rest. Any who chose to fight either fell or joined his cause. On and on he went, until he garnered the support of the last major band. His unifying mission was complete.
“His next objective was to create a central government for them all. He organized his most loyal followers into a cabinet and set each of them over a certain area of the land now considered a single country. As the General who accomplished the work and coordinated all the leaders, he was the clear choice. He became The First King.
“It’s simple to proclaim yourself a sovereign nation, but it’s quite another matter to make the rest of the world see it that way. The First King sought for legitimacy on the world stage, and the only way to do that was to ally himself with a renowned foreign power such as Korandi far in the west.
“Now, The First King had a son named Osric. Yes, Your Highness, your father Osric. He was young. Still quite a few years older than you, but young by my standards The First King saw an opportunity for alliance with Korandi in the form of a marriage alliance. Having a Korandian princess as queen would certainly garner the world’s support. Thus, a deal was struck and your mother came here to marry your father.
“The support of the Koradian royal family allowed Talin to not only gain its footing, but also to flourish. The queen’s presence improved the economy, productivity, foreign affairs, and even the loving support of the Talindri people.
“In short, nothing we have today would be possible without your mother,” the tutor finished, hoping they could leave the subject at that.
“But we don’t have her here anymore,” Adella said. “She’s been gone my whole life. Hasn’t that affected Talin at all?”
He coughed, attempting to cover his wince at her question. “Well, yes, there have been some… declines since the loss of your mother, but it’s nothing the king can’t handle.”
“But he has no one to help him. The First King is gone and so is my mother, and I’m no help,” the princess pressed. “What’s he going to do to bring Talin back to how it was when he married mother?”
“That, Your Highness, is something that I do not know the answer to. Certainly something must be done, but I can’t say what it will be. There’s no telling how far the king would go to save us all.”

Part 5: Myth (417 words)
Farmer Midas and the Goat Touch

Midas was a prosperous farmer, always toiling in the fields, fertilizing or harvesting a near-perfect crop, and constantly bragging about his goats. He had many, and they were all renowned for their incredible eating skills. Midas took them to fairs, circuses, and parties to show off their impressive talent, and he was known the world over because of them.
He took great pride in his herd of goats, and so he was always wanting more, more, more. He bought goats from his neighbors and raised many baby goats from his own herd. Midas’s life revolved around his goats, and he loved it.
One day, Midas was asked to show his goats and their abilities to the king. It was a great honor, and he eagerly accepted the opportunity. His goats trained constantly for the few weeks leading up to the awaited event, tirelessly eating anything and everything within reach. Midas was more than confident to show off his herd, so when the day came, he wasn’t nervous at all.
At the castle, the king wanted the highest level of entertainment, so he brought a variety of items for the goats to consume. Carriage wheels, carpets, setees, and even a full-sized catapult. The goats demolished it all with only a small effort to the great delight of Midas and the king.
In fact, the king was so pleased that he promised to grant one wish to the goat farmer. Midas thought for a moment, pondering what would benefit him most. It was clear to him that his herd was his livelihood, so he came up with a brilliant wish. He wished for everything he touched to become a goat.
After a brief moment of confusion, the king granted the wish. Midas gleefully went home and turned everything along the way into goats, growing his herd exponentially. The herd grew and grew and grew until Midas couldn’t even see where they ended.
As they arrived back at the farm, it became painfully clear that there wasn’t nearly enough food for the goats, and as Midas tried to feed them what little he had, the food merely turned into more hungry goats. He stumbled about, trying to find something, /anything/ to appease the her. They had already eaten every blade of grass on his farm, and they were getting louder and louder.
Eventually, the goats could take their hunger no longer, and they turned on Midas, piling around him and consuming him as easily as they consumed the king’s catapult.

Part 6: Folklore (433 words)
Story with a Moral

Long ago, deep within the magical forests of Loxen, there lived a woodsman. He toiled every day, chopping down trees to get firewood for his cabin. He was very particular about the trees that he cut down; only those that didn’t provide fruit for the animals. He didn’t want to take away any source of their food, so he never even tried to fruit, no matter how delicious it appeared with its pristine form nestled in the branches high overhead.
One day, a boy wandered into the wood, and he discovered one of the trees that bore this fruit. As he reached for one of the fruits, the woodsman came into view and commanded him to stop. The boy turned to see who it was, leaving the fruit behind.
The woodsman offered to take in the young lad as an apprentice and began to teach him the ways of the forest. He taught how to responsibly cut down trees, how to respect the existing wildlife, and most importantly, to never fell the fruit-bearing trees.
The boy earned his ax, and he began helping the woodsman. The fruit was so tantalizing, though, that he began to sneak a fruit each day.
Before long, the woodsman noticed the unrest of the squirrels, and asked them what was the matter. They replied that they didn’t know, but something in the forest was off.
The man asked his apprentice if he knew anything about this imbalance, but he claimed no knowledge of it.
As the discontent of the animals grew, the woodsman asked the birds if they knew of what had happened. The birds saw everything that happened on the ground, as their soaring vantage point provided an unparalleled view. They told the man about his apprentice’s betrayal, but he didn’t believe them fully. He wanted to think that his apprentice would not lie to him.
When he asked his apprentice about the fruit, the boy again feigned innocence, denying any knowledge of the incident to the relief of the woodsman.
The next day, when the boy snuck another fruit, he was so greedy that he devoured it in just three bites. On his return back to the cabin later that day, he fell down, dead from poison.
Unbeknownst to the boy and the woodsmen. the animals in their anger had conspired to prove that the apprentice was the culprit. They had poisoned every fruit in the woods to punish him for his dishonesty, and indeed they had.
However, they had overlooked one critical detail in their wrath: they relied on those same fruits for their survival.

March 8 (with Clev) - 166 words
“six hosts… six hosts.. four days left to destroy them all…"

We had already lost so, so many lives in this plight. We couldn't go on much longer, but we needed to. If we didn't, we would all die anyway. I needed Hayden to understand how important he was in this, but he was being selfish. Couldn't he see that he was needed for the good of his country, for the good of the world? I had sacrificed everything to keep it all together, and this was how he repaid me? I don't know how to deal with him; maybe he'll just have to wait and see what happens when we don't take action. I tried to tell him it wouldn't be pretty, but he wouldn't listen. He thinks there's a way to save everyone and complete our mission. It doesn't work that way, and soon enough he'll learn that for himself. I just hope we don't have to lose too many good people in the process. No matter, I'll figure it out myself. I don't

March 6 (with Dia) - 144 words
“if my life was a movie, I wouldn't be the main character”

No, it most definitely would be my best friend, Aiden. He's so perfect and amazing and kind and wonderful, and… Oh this is not good for me. I think I might be in love with him. That's really bad because he can't ever know. Ever.
I don't want to ruin our friendship. But if this was a book, he'd be the lead, with his quirky sense of humor and his gorgeous personality- No, I need to stop. All I can hope is that if this were a book or movie, I'd be the second main character. Perhaps the love interest? No, I can't think like that.
You see, he deserves way better than me. Honestly, it's kind of selfish for me to want so desperately for him to see me differently. Some other, better girl deserves him far more than I ever could.

March 6 (with Toko) - 144 words
“sometimes doors don't go where they're supposed to.”

Sometimes they lead to faraway places; places you wish you could go anytime. This particular door, for instance, took me straight to Paris. It's my job to check the doors, so naturally I had to make sure it was in working order. No one needed to know that I slipped through and spent a couple hours in the city of love. Besides, I was perfectly safe. No one saw me, and all I did was visit the tourist sites. The Eiffel Tower was incredible. I walked along the Seine, and no one was the wiser. I snuck back just in time, or so I thought. When I came back through the door, my boss stood there waiting, tapping her tall heels impatiently. I wondered how long she'd been standing there, waiting for me. Shoot, was I fired? That would really suck because I have…

Guide Dog Pain (796 words)

Waiting might be the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I've been on the guide dog waitlist for almost two years now, and it's becoming unbearable. I always had a spark in me when it came to dogs, and even more when I discovered the existence of guide dogs. My younger self and my current self have both continuously remained obsessed with them forever and always.
I first met a man with a guide dog when I was eight years old. He came to our local library to give some motivational talk, but all I could do was stare at his dog in awe and wonder. The man told stories of the many times his dog had saved his life, and I've been hooked ever since. From that moment on, I knew I was destined to have a guide dog of my own.
My parents didn't think I was as serious as I was. Sure, they got me so many guide dog toys (which I still have on my shelf by the way), and they encouraged me, but it was always said in a way that left no doubt of their intentions. They wanted me to wait until I was an adult.
That was so indescribably painful to me. Middle school was horrifically lonely and isolating because I was the different kid. There weren't very many people who would talk to me, and my friend group was being torn apart. I just wanted to not be lonely anymore.
I obsessively researched everything I could possibly find on the internet and in my library about guide dogs, and when there was nothing else for me to find, I researched other types of service dogs. I thought I knew everything there was to know about them, but I don't think it's really possible to ever know everything about something.
Eighth grade was all virtual for me during covid, and my English class was studying plot structure through short films. I was “randomly” assigned the short film Pip, which is an adorable little movie about a guide dog in training. If you haven't seen it, go watch it right now. I hadn't seen it before, and it made me break down in tears (don't worry, I turned off my camera and mic ;D).
I researched the creators of this beautiful little film, and discovered an organization that I somehow hadn't seen before (I've discovered many other organizations since then that I didn't know about at the time; I really didn't know as much as I thought haha), and my curiosity was piqued. I scoured their website, and I discovered a camp for teens interested in guide dogs, which was exactly what I needed.
I immediately screeched for my mother to come see and tell me I could go (she was on the phone and had to hang up because I was in hysterics lol), and she assented pretty quickly, to my surprise. I then convinced my father, and once again, it was easier than I expected.
The camp's for 14-17-year-olds, and I was only 13, but my birthday happened just in time for me to be old enough when camp started. I had to write an essay, and it was probably garbage. I'm scared to look it up now. I was approved, and all I had to do was wait for camp.
It was one of the greatest experiences of my life. You can read about it in my Harnessing Independence project for more detail if you want, but all i can say is it was truly life-changing. After seeing the campus and the difference a guide dog can make, my mom quickly agreed to let me apply (although the minimum age was 15 and I'd just turned 14), The biggest task of all was convincing my dad, but I don't even remember how I did it. I probably cried a lot.
As soon as I was old enough, I applied for a guide dog and was accepted onto the waitlist after a period of interviews and evaluations. Since then, I've visited campus a couple of times, but now I'm just waiting.
Always waiting.
Two years of waiting.
I'm so tired of waiting.
I have a friend who's turning 15 in a month and preparing to apply herself, and all I can do is hope that she won't have to wait as long as I have. She's in about the same place that I was in middle school, so she's desperate. I know how badly it hurts to need something but not be old enough to have it, no matter how mature you are, and it sucks.
I'm sending her all my love and prayers, and I'm very hopeful for my future as well as hers. <3

How I Met my Best Friend (631 words)

I was in fifth grade, and I had just moved into a new school the year before. I didn't have a lot of friends, so I just had my main friend group of two other girls. They were really good friends with this other girl, and I had never met her. I don't know why, but I was kind of jealous of her, I guess? and I didn't really have any interest in meeting her at all, so I kind of avoided her honestly. She was at one of my friend's birthday parties once and I did not talk to her at all.
One day during recess, both of the girls in my friend group were gone from school. I don't know if they had appointments, or if they were sick, but they weren't there. I had recess by myself. I wandered around looking for someone to hang out with because I was kind of lonely and a little sad that I didn't have as many friends but I did back home. I ran into a couple girls that had found had a caterpillar and were playing with it. I don't remember much about it other than that they named it Geepa.
I hung out with them for most of recess and by the end, I heard one of the girls call the other girl by the name of my friend group's friend that I didn't like very much. I was a little surprised that she was so nice and fun to hang around, but I decided she must not have been as bad as I originally thought.
The next day when my friends were still gone, I sat with her at lunch. We talked about the stupidest stuff like her braces, squirrels, literally anything. She's such a fun person to be around and I noticed that from the first time I actually tried to have a conversation with her.
Her and I became really close. We always did projects together and hung out, laughed, just enjoyed each other's company. She stayed my closest friend all through middle school, and in 8th grade (that was covid for me) she switched to a private school, which was really sad. We stayed in contact over text mostly, and, well, I lost contact with my two other friends who kind of hated each other by that point.
Anyways, I never lost contact with my best friend. Now we've been through a lot together and I absolutely adore her. She's literally one of the best people on this earth. she's supported me through some of the hardest times in my life, and I can never thank her enough for that. I hope I've supported her when she's needed it too, and I think we have a really good friendship that could last for a long time.
We're doing college visits now and it looks like we're probably going to end up in very different places, but I hope that we can still remain friends because we were communicating just over text for a long time anyways during covid, and that worked out fine.
I'm going to write her a long letter of gratitude because I truly appreciate her more than she could ever know. I'm going to try to express how much I care about her and admire her. Ooo now I'm really excited to do that hehe-
I don't know, maybe that wasn't much of a story, but that's all I've got.
All I can say outside of that is that when I was younger,r I had a lot of surgeries I went through, and I mean A LOT. She supported me through them with really funny cards, little books, candy, and she's just one of the sweetest people you could ever meet.

The ACT Ordeal (856 words)

Here's a prompt from Faith: “write about a time you stood up for yourself”
Wow, that's a good one. I'm kind of shy and quiet, so times that I've done this are permanently burned into my mind. Ohh I have a fairly recent one (and by that I mean it was last week lol). I'm a junior in high school, and everyone has the opportunity to take the ACT for free. Because I'm also visually impaired, I always get test accommodations for big tests like this (large print, extended time because it takes longer to flip through a bajillion pages with large text, etc). I've heard that College Board can be stingy with accommodations and it's a pain to get them to approve them. With that in mind, I asked for my accommodations a year in advance. I reminded my case manager, my counselor, and an administrator of what I'd need, and I kept reminding them every few months or so. I was only a little worried about it because I had been so persistent.
It was finally the day before the test, and the only reason I was nervous was for the test itself. I was certain my accommodations were set, but I decided to follow up one more time just in case. I asked my gifted teacher to check for me (I would have done it myself but, again, I wasn't really worried), and she got back to me at the end of the school day.
The counselor hadn't sent in my accommodations, and I would either have to skip the test or try to take it without being able to see it. I swear my heart stopped. I didn't know what to do, and panic ensued in the office. My counselor told us she'd call us once she had details. She said she was trying to pull it all together before the next day. She never called.
I also found out that she was trying to blame my case manager for the mess up. I knew for a fact that it wasn't her fault because I was with her when she sent in the accommodations. The fault fell on my counselor, and I normally wouldn't be mad at her except that she was trying to put the blame on the most responsible person in the situation.
Since I hadn't received a call back, I wasn't sure if I was supposed to go in to take the test or not, so my parents still had to drive me. When I got there, my administrator told me the test wasn't ready and was shocked that my counselor hadn't let me know. I think he was worried I'd be mad at him, but I really wasn't. He said the school would provide me with a voucher to take the test another time, and I was cool with that. The part that still bothered me was that my case manager was going to take the fall when she was never at fault. I later found out that she'd been up all night trying to communicate with the office staff and pull my test together. She was so dedicated and I really appreciate her. I wish people wouldn't blame her for everything because she was truly amazing.
I told the administrator as much, laying down my argument in such a bold way that I'm kind of shocked that I really did it. He looked a little concerned too. I've never been that worked up while talking to an adult, so I hope I didn't come off as rude. I told him I was thankful for the voucher but that the counselor needed to take responsibility for her own mistake and stop blaming it on my case manager, who had worked with me to do everything we possibly could.
He agreed, and I really hope he talked to that counselor. Honestly, nobody at my school likes our counselors. They never get anything done on time, and anytime I've had to go to them (just to talk about my schedule, too; I would never feel comfortable talking about my life problems with them), I've ended up in tears. They're only worried about our schedules, tests, and getting into college, and they can be downright mean about it sometimes.
As an example, someone must have told them that I sit by myself most days because two years ago they called me into the office and interrogated me about my friends. None of them were in the same lunch with me, and I only had like three school friends. My counselor kept asking me things like "Are you sure you don't have any other friends?" And I was feeling super insecure and lonely so I broke down in front of her then ran away. She probably thinks I'm mentally unstable or something but really she just scares the heck out of me.
Nobody at my school likes the counselors either, it's not just me. That's why I'm so shocked that I stood against them though, because honestly they're terrifying. It's kind of one of my proudest moments honestly.

The Story of Seth (908 words)

Ok, so disclaimer, I'm writing this the same way I would talk because it gets me too worked up to actually write well and my brain will go too fast anyway- basically just imagine this in my voice that you've never hear and you should be all set :thumbsup:
SO my church hosts these dance event thingies which are super fun where it's basically just a bunch of teenagers dancing- I guess that was pretty self explanatory but WHATEVER. It's not like a school dance, you don't need to bring a date and most people don't because it's a great way to meet people. Plus, every now and then they'll play slow songs, and people will ask each other to dance. It can be a little awkward sometimes, but I love it because I get so flattered when someone singles me out. Also, I love talking to new people, but I'm too introverted to initiate a conversation so this works perfectly in my favor
I was at one of these dances a couple weeks ago with a friend, and the very first slow dance of the night was announced. Everyone was a little confused, though, because the drums were STRONG in the beginning and we thought it would be a mosh-pittable song. During the confusion, this guy from across the room made eye contact with me and came over. It was too dark for me to see him really well (plus I'm visually impaired, so you know XD), but I could tell he was trying to ask me before anyone else did. So he asked me to dance while people were still confused about whether or not it was even a slow dance song, and I agreed because it was so sweet and hehe I love being asked.
We had a great conversation, even though it wasn't very long. We talked about the most basic topics, but he was so quick-witted and we had such a fun banter that I'm glad it was too dark for him to see me blushing hehe- He asked me where I usually hang out during the dances (because that can tell you a lot about a person, you'd be surprised), and I told him that I'm usually in the middle of everything, but I'm an introert everywhere else. This was a really big regional event with a LOT of people though, so it was really hot in there and I was kind of hiding in the back where the heat was less horrendous. When I told him that, he said he might catch up to me again later and I was like “ok, cool” but inside I was like “fdJKasdfkjlasjk”
Anyways, the song ended and instead of walking away, he kinda just stood there like he was going to ask for my number. He even did that thing in books where they open their mouth to start talking but then change their minds and close it again- then he chickened out and WALKED AWAY
AAAAA I would have asked him for his number if I wasn't expecting him to ask for mine honestly.
Well, that's basically the whole story, but there's a follow-up, plus my rationale still.
So this guy told me where he was from, and he lives in the same area as my mom's best friend, and she knows him. She says he's kinda quite, but a solid guy and a real gentleman. Also I'm starting to go to more of these larger events so I could easily see him again- It just feels so perfect fjaksl;
OK SO- I swear I have reasons for being like this. First of all, I'd like to address the fact that I sound like a stupid teenager obsessing over a boy. And whlie I won't deny that that's not true, I also feel that it's justified. I have never, and I really mean NEVER crushed on a guy who I haven't been friends with for at least a year. I don't do that. I have to have a relationship with a guy before I EVER crush on him. The fact that that didn't happen here just demonstrates how wonderful this guy is because never in my life has a person left such a good first impression on me. So yes, I am being a stupid teenager and obsessing over a boy, but I'm not the type of girl who does that, so really that should only highlight how awesome this guy is. It also just is so cool that I met this incredible guy and it turns out that my mom's best friend has known him for a long time and thinks he's amazing too.
I'm not stalking him either, I swear. She just asked me about the dance, I told her about him, and I found out she knew him. I'm not being creepy, I promise. Anyways, I don't really know what else to say other than I desperately hope to see him again, and I would actually ask for his number. Listen, I'm the biggest scaredy-cat you've probably ever known, and I WOULD ASK FOR HIS NUMBER. I really can't stress enough how good the vibes were and how much I'd like to get to know him.
Agh- I hate that I'm being so stereotypical like this- but truly I've never done this before and I just want to get to know him better.

This is mostly just a basic overview, so if you have any questions about specific classes or dynamics, let me know on my profile, and I'll update them here!

Classes/Grades/Years
This is just basic terminology for what year of school you're in. A freshman is in 9th grade, a sophomore is in 10th, a junior is in 11th, and a senior is in 12th. It's generally agreed that junior year is the hardest because you've worked up to a very high level, and senior year you've completed many requirements, so you don't have to try as hard. For me personally, my junior year is definitely the hardest, followed by freshman year, then sophomore year, where I was very busy, but the content wasn't hard.

Credits
This is the most important foundation to high school in the US, so I'll explain it briefly here. To earn a credit, you have to take a class for a full year (two semesters). You can earn a .5 credit by taking a class for just one semester. You either earn a credit or you don't; there's no partial option. To actually gain the credit (or .5 credit), you have to pass the class. If you fail it, usually there's an option to retake it later or over the summer if you have to.

Graduation Requirements
Every high school has a catalog of all the required credits you'll need in order to earn your diploma/graduate. For example, if your school requires four English credits, you'll need to take four full years of different English classes (retakes don't get you extra credits). Most schools require less credits than hours you'll take in four years, which leaves room for retakes if you need them, although I wouldn't suggest that. For my school, we have 24 required credits, but seven hours each semester (7 credits x 4 years), so it's not hard to get 28 credits. As long as you're a diligent student, you should be able to graduate by meeting the minimum requirements.
Most schools also have specific class requirements (that still fill in your credits). Biology is almost always a requirement, so when you take (and pass) that, you meet the requirement and also get a science credit. Basically, if you're required to take bio and have a life science credit, passing bio will meet both.
One last thing: a class requirement can be used to fill a credit requirement, but each credit can only fill one bucket. At my school, we're required to have seven elective credits plus one art and one tech credit. I took a Web Design class last year, and that went toward my tech credit, but not toward my general electives because a credit can't count twice.

Hours
The average high school schedule has 6-8 hours (classes), although each school breaks up the schedule differently. At my school, we have all of our odd hours on Monday and Wednesday, and all of our even hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Fridays, we have all seven of our hours (which is just the worst). Most schools also offer early release to seniors or online eighth hours to help you open up your options.

Grades
Every assignment in graded on a scale of points, determined by a rubric made by the teacher. Your total class grade is calculated as the percentage of points you've earned out of the total possible points. A grade of 90% or more is an A, 80-89% is a B, 70-79% is a C, 60-69% is a D, and anything less is an F (fail). Any grade other than an F counts as a pass, allowing you to earn a credit, but low grades will harm your GPA (discussed below).

GPA
Your GPA is a scale from 0-4.0 that gives an overview of your overall grades in high school. Every single credit's grade is taken into account for your GPA. Basically, you convert each letter grade to a number (A=4, B=3, C=2, D=1, F=0), add them all up, then average them out. Maintaining a good GPA is important for getting into college because it's one of the factors that can determine your eligibility. A 4.0 requires a lot of hard work and dedication, so they're very impressive. Anything above a 3 is pretty good, and below that can get tricky for college admissions.

Honors/AP
These are higher level classes that can look better to colleges and, in many schools, improve your GPA. They have more rigorous curriculums than on-level classes, so they require a greater time commitment, but they're often worth it in pursuing a certain career/major path. For example, taking Honors Bio could set you up for success in later high-level science courses. I don't know exactly how they're weighted (it depends on the school), but they carry a larger share in the calculation of your GPA in many places, so they can help bring that up too.
AP classes have a curriculum managed by a national organization designed to set students up for college (it won't let me say the name Google AP though and you'll find it). At the end of the year, students have the opportunity to take the AP exam. The exam is graded on a scale of 1-5, and it's graded on a curve. Anything from a 3-5 is a pass, and a 1-2 is a fail. However, the test is administered by the organization and does not affect your grade in the high school class. The purpose of the scores is used for colleges because a 4 or 5 can sometimes count as taking a college class, which exempts you from that later. I'm taking all AP social studies classes because I want to avoid taking many of those in college, for example.

Extracurriculars
Most high schools offer a plethora of fun classes to pick from that can help set you on the right path for a career. For me personally, I took a lot of programming classes my freshman and sophomore years before I realized I want to go into publishing. Now I'm taking Digital Communications (school newspaper), which teaches me skills in writing, editing, graphic design, collaboration, connections, and more. You don't have to take classes along a particular path, but it can be fun to. It's important to take classes that you enjoy because your heavier “core” classes (math, science, social studies/sciences, English) will be busy an exhausting.
There are also so many extracurriculars outside of school, from sports to clubs to honor societies. Taking extracurriculars is another way to bolster your college applications later on, so take things that you enjoy and will make you stand out.

ACT/SAT
The ACT and the SAT are two major national standardized tests that many colleges require scores for. They are usually taken junior or senior year, and you can take either, both, or none at all. The ACT is graded up to a 36 (perfect score), and anything 30 or more is amazing. I'm not as familiar with the SAT, as the colleges I'm looking at don't require it, but you can get a score up to 1600 on that. From what I know, the SAT is required for schools more on the East Coast and some Ivy Leagues (very presitigious colleges), but the ACT is more widely accepted. You can also take practice versions of these tests earlier in high school to get an idea of what they're looking for. Both of them test your skills in English and math, and the ACT also scores your science skills.

Resume
This is important to build up for your college applications. The goal is to stand out. For your resume, you want to have a good GPA and good test scores, unique extracurriculars, and good essays. This isn't that important to understanding high school, but it explains why so many people go over the top to push through it. At its core, it's not too hard to graduate high school by skating through with D's in all of your required credits, but taking it to the next level is important if you want to receive a quality education beyond high school.

Adella burst through the heavy wooden doors, leaning back against the wall to catch her breath. Rage bubbled up inside her, and she allowed her face to take on a scowl. How could her father expect her to marry such a bootlicking slug of a man? Was this all a game to the king? He gave her the illusion of choice, two princes from neighboring kingdoms, but what he wanted was very clear. The alliance with Julian’s kingdom would be far more advantageous than one with Brendan’s.
The king was indeed playing a game, trying to appear diplomatic to all parties, while clearly pushing her in one direction. She’d grown up around Julian, and this was the first time she’d ever even /seen/ Brendan. Her father wasn’t one for subtlety, that was certain.
Someone came through the door behind her, tentatively slipping through, as if worried she might throw something at him. Indeed, the thought did cross her mind before she realized who stood before her. Even in the dim hall, his royal blue suit gave him away. Brendan leaned against the wall next to her, clasping his hands stiffly in front of him. He knew her just as well as she knew him, barely at all.
“Did my father send you out here to fetch me?” Adella asked, more than a little bite in her tone.
“Actually, I excused myself, assuming that dinner was over once you left,” he replied. His deep brown eyes met hers.
She sighed, feeling a little guilty knowing he’d checked on her of his own free will. She had made quite a scene, and she’d have to pay for that later. “Did anything else happen after I left?”
Brendan let out a breath, running his fingers through his formerly immaculate blond curls. “The king tried to smooth everything over, but it was a little late for that. You made quite a scene.”
To Adella’s surprise, he didn’t seem upset. Quite the opposite, she noted, as a smirk passed over his lips. That little smirk piqued her curiosity. Did Brendan feel the same about Julian? She suddenly felt the urge to share every last piece of fury pent up inside her. It wouldn’t matter what she said anyway; her fate was sealed.
“I don’t even feel guilty. Julian always gets his way, and he knows it. He’s an insufferable idiot who knows exactly how to fuel my father’s ego,” Adella said. She didn’t intend to continue, but a raised eyebrow from Brendan emboldened her.
“I want him to know what it’s like to not get everything you want, just once. I want him to see that the world doesn’t revolve around him. I can’t, though, because I’m going to be forced to marry him. He’ll have his way again, and my life will be ruined.” Her voice broke at the end, and she angrily swiped a tear off her face. Crying wouldn’t do her any good. “I don’t want to be in this stupid castle for one more second.”
“Then why don’t we get out of here?” Brendan said simply, as if it was obvious.
Adella paused. It was common knowledge that she’d never left the castle before, at least as far as her father and the rest of the world knew. With the current state of the country, he didn’t think it safe for her to wander freely. Her people didn’t even know what their princess looked like.
Not only that, he’d said we. Was that supposed to mean something? He mistook her silence for trepidation.
“You don’t mean to tell me you don’t know a way out?” he said, before boldly adding, “I wouldn’t believe you.”
She couldn’t suppress the smile that broke across her face. “Of course I know how to escape this place. The real question is: can you keep a secret?”



The pair slipped out through one of the ground-floor windows in a side hall. Adella had broken the latch many years before, and by some miracle no one had discovered it in that time. Even if they had, she would have found another way out. She was a force to be reckoned with.
The cool evening air swept around them, much more welcoming than the royals and diplomats within the castle. They snuck past a few less-than-alert guards and climbed over a portion of the castle wall that seemed to be free of supervision altogether.
“There’s never been trouble on the castle grounds, so the guards aren’t quite as vigilant as they should be,” Adella explained in a whisper before dropping down to the grass on the other side of the wall. “Clearly, I don’t mind.”
She heard a soft thud as Brendan hit the ground beside her, and she paused to breathe in the crisp air. Being outside the walls was liberating, even if they were directly behind her. The woods stretched out before them, tall regal oaks with gently waving limbs beckoning them on as the stars twinkled above in the darkening sky.
Adella stood frozen in place. She’d snuck out before, but it felt different this time since she’d run off with a prince. More real. “If we’re caught, I’m so dead,” she said.
Brendan regarded her curiously. “Should we go back?”
The thought of crawling back home because she was scared of her father was enough to bring her back to herself. “No,” she said resolutely, before adding self-consciously, “Unless you want to.”
He shook his head, and gestured for her to lead the way. He’d never even been to her kingdom, so he was lost without her.
Adella expertly wove her way through the woods, following a memorized route to somewhere more peaceful. The two of them walked without speaking, listening to the leaves rustle overhead and a single owl hooting as the night began. She didn’t need much light to know where she was going; she’d walked this path many times.
Finally, Brendan broke the silence. “Funny how well you know the area considering you’ve never left the castle,” he said playfully.
“Is it so obvious that I sneak out?” Adella replied in mock horror, despite the sincerity of her question. “I was under the impression that the world believed me to be an obedient little princess.”
“Most people do,” he admitted. “I thought so too before today.”
Adella bit her lip, hoping Brendan wouldn’t tell her father about her rebellious antics. From what he’d said before, he probably wouldn’t, but the prospect of losing what little freedom she had was petrifying.
She internally chastised herself, shaking her head. She had already trusted him, and it did her no good to doubt him now.
Adella tried to meet his gaze, but she couldn’t maintain eye contact for long. “Sorry I snapped at you after dinner.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s alright. Besides, I didn’t get the worst of it.”
With a grimace, she recalled how she’d yelled at Julian and how angry her father was at her — not only was he a prince, he was practically betrothed to her. The thought made her shudder.
“As I said, I don’t feel bad for him,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
Brendan chuckled. “Why does your father think you like him?”
“He doesn’t know anything about me,” Adella said with a scowl. “And I don’t really care what he thinks either.”
“But he’s your father.”
“He doesn’t act like my father.”
The words tasted bitter on her tongue, though they weren’t hard to say. Something about Brendan made her want to confide in him. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. She had only ever fully trusted one person, and that had been the biggest mistake of her life.
As they neared their destination, the trees began to thin around them and a babbling stream came into view, shore strewn with riverstones and blossoming flowers. It was familiar to Adella, a safe haven from the tumultuous world back home. The mere sight of it released the tension in her muscles for the first time in almost a week.
“Beautiful,” Brendan breathed, taking in the little clearing in awe. Wandering to the edge of the water, he crouched down to pick one of the wildflowers.
Adella sat down against a tree, basking in the grounding feeling of the rough bark behind her and the soft grass beneath. Twirling the bright flower in his fingers, Brendan came to sit beside her, leaning back against the tree as if he belonged there.
“So,” he drew out the word. “Since you’ve only ever been in and around the castle, what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but never could?”
She laughed softly at his question. It seemed absurd to hear an icebreaker in contrast to their serene surroundings and in the quiet of the woods. “I’d like to climb a mountain. Visit the bay. Go on a safari. Mostly I want to see the world and do a little bit of everything.”
“I guess that makes sense,” he said thoughtfully. “For me, I always wanted to come here. There are so many rumors about you and your kingdom back home. It’s exciting to go somewhere considered forbidden. But you’d know that.” His smirk was back, and his eyes locked with hers. She didn’t look away this time. There was nothing to be nervous about anymore.
“I’d like to see your kingdom too,” she said. “It’s not very likely to happen, though.”
Adella turned her eyes to the sky, tracing the familiar constellations shining through the darkness. She liked to imagine a life where she could be free to go anywhere and be anything.
“If only things were different,” she said with a sigh.
“If you want things to be different, why not change them?”
Such a simple, naïve question. He couldn’t understand how her life worked, not with how different it was from his.
“It’s not like your kingdom here. My father rules it all, and I’m just a pawn in his political game. I don't mean anything to him.” She struggled to find the right words to explain. “He doesn’t want me to inherit the throne without a husband. He thinks ours should be a land of kings. By the time I’m in a position to change anything, it’ll be too late.”
Brendan hmmed. In disagreement or discontent, Adella wasn’t sure.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” he started, “but if you’re going to yell at Julian as harshly as you did tonight regularly, I doubt he’d agree to marry you.”
That elicited a giggle from her, and he seemed pleased with himself for it. “You can’t say things like that. The thought of torturing him for all his days is too tempting for me.”
“Or you could break his heart now and stand up to your father.” He said it as a joke — at least that’s how he presented it. Looking away, he added, “After all, there are other princes in this world.”
She blushed, hoping it was too dark for him to tell. Her heart pounded as she raced to come up with a reply. There didn’t seem to be any words to suit the situation, so she resorted to other measures instead.
She reached for his hand, squeezing it to tell him all the things she wanted to say but didn’t know how. He twined his fingers around hers, and they sat together like that for quite some time, although neither of them could be sure how long.
The stars shimmered above their heads, glinting through the canopy of branches swaying in the light breeze. The flower still in Brendan’s hands caught Adella’s eye, pulling her back into the present moment.
The future he had implied made her heart flutter, even as she knew how unattainable it was. It was nice to imagine, just for one glorious moment, that anything was possible.

Initial Thoughts: Wow, this is such a powerful beginning. It grabbed my attention with just the first few words, even with such little context. I can already tell this is going to be very poetic, gripping, and hard to pick apart.

It is known for its frivolity and ebullient spirits, its mirth, laughter and brightness
Was. I keep forgetting, although I pick my way through the destruction.

I absolutely love these lines. I feel like I can hear the narrator pause at the line break before the tense correction.

“We’ll take care of you,” whispered Marie as we sat together, bones protruding at every angle.

This line confused me a little, because it sounds like Marie is included in the “we” but is also the caretaker. You might want to shift it around a bit to clarify the difference between the two.

If my brother was quiet, it was serious. I could feel the pulse of his emotions, every ache in his heart. It was special, our bond. Mama used to say we were inseparable.

I love how simple and sweet this brief description of their relationship is. It's very powerful, and it instantly reminds me of my own brother. These lines are very relatable, which is great, and it makes me want to see more of their relationship.

Like the chocolate - a rare treat that Marie’s husband, Henri would often pull out of his pocket with a twinkle in his eyes. Long, arduous games of chess with her eldest daughter who had keen eyes and a sweet smile.

The switch between the italicized and normal text adds so much depth to this story. The memory and commentary of it is a little choppy, but it feels very intentional and stylistic. I personally really like it because I feel like it gives the reader a glimpse into the emotions the narrator is feeling in the present without directly stating them. Also random side note: I'm a big fan of all the French names <3

“Admit defeat. Julien, you are more proud than your father.”
They laughed simultaneously, but there was no mirth in it. Elodie sighed softly.
“I am sorry. I should not have said that.”

This small little interaction speaks volumes. All the things left unsaid between them seem palpable and I just want to keep reading. Your writing style is so poetic and beautiful, and it truly shines through here. This is one of my favorite parts so far because it says so much in so few words.

“Why ladybug? It is a strange word.”
Julien shrugged. “It is her favourite.”

Wow, this is more telling than the commentary that follows. It's incredibly sweet, and I love the symbol you create here- I'm hoping it comes back later

This day felt different. Like nostalgia and hazy memories, our childhood friendship clung to the air as a reminder of what had been.
I turned away from the sunlight, letting the darkness hide my anguish.
I did not trust myself to speak for a couple moments.
“I know.”

Incredible- These lines are my new favorites. You have such a talent for expressing powerful emotions in only a few well-placed words. I can't get over how hard this hits and how every single word has its place. I'm blown away by your style, and especially this little snippet of the narrator's memories.

The threads that were meant to hold me together were stubbornness and patience.

I think this line is a little clunky. I'd try to rewrite it because it's a little confusing after the line before it (which is a great start by the way). Were stubbornness and patience the threads holding the narrator together? Or was that his hope? I just think this could be clarified a bit. <3

When my brother had fled town, rolling in debt and embroiled in scandal, I paid off every last penny. Like the man I was meant to be, the man he would never come close to me.

This sentence is a little jarring. If that's the intention, definitely leave it how it is. But the contrast between Julien being in love and then suddenly running off threw me for a loop. Also, is the last part supposed to be “the man he would never come close to being”? Those last few words are a little confusing after the start of that sentence, but I don't think it's too hard to rework.

Marie clutched at my hand. Marie, strength and kindness incarnate. Marie, who rescued birds with broken wings, Marie who nursed us through scarlet fever and almost died, Marie who treated us as if we were her own.
“Julien,” she said, sobbing. Her frail body was shaking.
Elodie lifted her head from the table, her red-rimmed eyes the only sign of grief.
“Why must we go on, Maman? When the villagers spit and gossip at us, all for one boy.

I love how much backstory and character you fit in here from their words and actions alone. You truly have a knack for showing not telling.

She spoke bitterly but I knew she was nursing a broken heart. Her room was next to mine and listened to tortured cries in her sleep. He haunted her at night, haunted all of us.
He’d left indelible marks on every inch of this house.

First of all, I love this part. The impact of Julien's actions are felt so strongly, and I'm blown away by it all. The one thing that interrupted the flow was that I think you meant “I listened to tortured cries” (you forgot the I <3), and that would improve the readability of the sentence.

But the old cordiality began to pale in comparison to what was blooming.

I'm so invested at this point, my heart dropped at this line. Part of me was worried for what would happen if Julien returned, and the other part of me was cheering because Elodie seems like such a kind, sweet character and she deserves better than someone who won't care for her. I love your characterization because I feel like I know the characters very well even though I haven't actually seen them much in action.

Even April rain showers could not marr the beauty and the fragility of our love.

This line is so beautiful. I have no words. I want this on a poster or on my phone wallpaper honestly. Wow. I'm getting all the feels from this and enjoying every step of the way.

And then.
Him, like a hurricane on a gentle spring evening, when the hum of nature filled the air. A tidal wave in a calm ocean, thrashing with rage.

Such a powerful entry- the tension was building up to this moment, even with all the happy vibes, and I'm so curious to find out what happens next. Your skills in building suspense are amazing.

“Betrayal,” he hissed in Elodie’s ear. He made no attempt at hiding the venomous hatred he felt towards me.
He brandished a knife, threatening me to come closer. Restraining Elodie by the waist, holding her hostage.

This is so cinematic- I can literally hear the backtrack in my head. I'm honestly getting antsy as I interrupt my reading to add my thoughts.

“Enjoy your happiness. May your days be fruitful, bright and abundant.”


He struck a match, and set fire to our house. I lunged for the door, only to find it locked. My brother had taken our only key. Bolted every window with a vengeance. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the first thing I saw: a rolling pin. I smashed the window, glass shards shattered and decorated the floor. Elodie screamed, and stumbled. The soles of her feet were red, tender and swollen.

Ok, I got a little lost here. Did Julien leave the narrator and Elodie in the house? Or is he in there with them? It's unclear who's present in the moment, which might be intentional because of the urgency of the scene. After reading this, I assume it's just the two of them, but I can't be quite sure.

She removed the hand pressed to her stomach, only to reveal a large, gaping wound. The tyrant had been threatening her with a knife. How had I not noticed my wife cry out? How could I be so uncaring, so selfish?

ALKJFSKDJ THIS LINE- So many things dropped here. I love the grand reveal of her wound, as well as the extreme betrayal from his brother, and also- wife? No wonder there's so much tension. And his internal conflict is exquisite (in a nice way lol). *chef's kiss*

“You will die.”
“There is no me without you, Elodie.”
“ I know. I know, but you must go. Please. Please. For me.”

This is incredibly heartbreaking in the best way possible. It feels so real and painful and I adore it. Also I just noticed how the memories are no longer in italics, which makes them feel more fresh and realistic. I don't know if that was intentional, but if so, it's brilliant.

I hope you will never know the strength and pain it takes to leave someone you love in a burning house.

This line. I'm broken.

For the brother, whom I’d so selfishly sacrificed, to pay for my cruelty.

I don't really get this line. It was never quite explained how/if the narrator sacrificed Julien, nor how/if the narrator was ever cruel and what spacifically he has to pay for. Maybe clarify this or change it up?

You shouldn’t believe everything you read, dear reader.
I was the one who ran away from town.

Woah, this gave me chills. I'm reeling and my brain's rewinding the story. I'm definitely going to have to read this again for full effect. Incredible.

I started the fire, with the cowardly rage that was always hidden away.
Although, I have always loved Elodie. Longer than even him, perhaps.

And with this, I understand the line that confused me. Absolutely please do not change it- Oh snap, this is so good.

And maybe, reader, I have lied to you. Maybe I have blurred the lines between truth and reality, so much so you begin to question who speaks to you.
Is he feral or is he broken?

Wow, now he's reading my mind. I was just thinking that I probably shouldn't trust him completely when I reread. Also, your use of the direct address to the reader is beautiful. I feel spoken to, and it's a little eerie.

Blood is blood, he said to me, when I tried to stop him from turning himself in at the station.
“We are family.”

And sometimes, family can mean terrible things.

Oh my gosh, that was such a good ending- At this point I don't know if the narrator is Julien or not, but it doesn't matter because this is so twisty and turny, and there were so many unexpected surprises. This ending left me in shock, even after the initial plot twist, which is so awesome. I'm excited to reread this now before sharing my final thoughts. :0

Final Thoughts: I don't have enough words to describe quite how powerful and intense this story is. It's definitely one that I could read over an over again, with so many lines that are just gems. I would 100% consider using this as your writing comp entry because it's extremely emotional and I adored every single plot twist, and there were many. You are an incredibly talented author, and I would love to see more of your writing. This absolutely blew me away, so keep up the good work! <333

First of all, this is a great opener to your story! (also I probably won't quote a lot because time hhh) Your prose is very lovely here, and it continues on throughout the rest of your story. This is a very impressive speedrun, and I love the way you describe everything.

My first critique (of the exposition) would be that the character's names are overused a little bit, which is a little clunky. For example:

“Ready, Yume?” Binary asked, extending her free hand to the named individual. She nodded, smiling brightly and putting her hand in Binary’s.
Binary flipped the Hourglass over and it glowed a bright blue. Then, the wisps of light and Energy wrapped around Yume and Binary, encapsulating them until, with a burst of wind, they disappeared completely.

Some of the names could be replaced with pronouns (or taken out in the dialogue) to keep the flow of the story going.

But still, she sat up, rubbing the back of her head slightly and looking closer at the child.

You could take “slightly” out here because it doesn't really add much to the story <3

“No—I’m not Nene. I get I look like her, but my name’s Aethra,” the child said, almost scolding. Yume felt a bit an “aww” at this little girl, but also a bit of fear of her assertiveness. Geez—

I think this could be rewritten to flow better- Like maybe "I get that I look like her“ and ”Yume felt a bit in awe." I really do like this paragraph though; I think it characterizes both Aethra and Yume very well.

“Oh, my bad. Nice to meet you, Aethra,” Yume smiled. She glanced around her. She was on a rooftop of a school, supposedly, and the familiar eastern air told her that she was in far-east Asia. “Where am I?” she inquired, and a familiar voice spoke up from behind her.

Maybe take out familiar in one of its uses here? It's used twice, so you could probably just take it out the second time.

noting the confusion and borderline concern in Yume’s eyes.

I really like this line lol- it made me giggle.

Binary nodded and her eyes turned azure for a brief moment, along with Yume’s, and then the glow dimmed and the two girls blinked.

This sentence is a little hard to read, so maybe you could shorten it or rearrange it so it's more flowy?

I love this next little part of the story. The characterization is really well done, and the dialogue's great too. The one thing I would change, is the very end where Tsukasa laughs- I wouldn't write the “HAHA!” in quotes because you already said that he laughed, so it feels repetitive.

Yume touched it gingerly with her shoe, and immediately her shoe turned back.

I'd reword this sentence so you're not repeating “her shoe” twice in a row- Also I think you meant to write black, not back <3

And then, it hit Yume.

I think you should take the comma out to make this more punchy, and maybe replace Yume with “her” to make it flow better.

then go to Binary and tell her that she was right—and what should they do.

This is a little confusing- I'd reword this sentence <3

Wow, that was a good cliffhanger ending! I was engaged throughout the entire end of your story, and I want to know what happens next!

Sorry for this really brief critique, but overall, I loved your story and it really only needs minor tweaks <3

These first few are all group notes, so at least one of these can apply to anyone reading this from the main cabin <3

Fairy Tales Cabin
You are all so incredible <3 I’m not just saying that, I swear. Every single one of you is amazing, and I loved working through all of our fairy tale realms with you, plus slaying in cabin wars <33 I hope you all had a great time because I know I sure did

Hosts and Leadership
Every last one of you was such a joy to work with, and I’m hopeful that I can be back on the leader team in the future because it’s one of the most fun things I’ve done. Keep up the good work, and I wish you all the best in your futures, wherever they may take you <33

SWC Community
It’s been one heck of a month, and I’m so grateful to all of you for being there. There are definitely people I should have written thank you’s to, but please forgive me and count this for you. This has honestly been one of the hardest times of my life, and I’m so grateful for this beautiful community that’s been there for me the whole time. Give yourselves a pat on the back and take these memories with you into the future <33

The rest of these are all individual people- They're in alphabetical order so you can find yourself and because I'm just like that XD

Alana
Oh my gosh, I have no words. You were the best leader ever and I’m so glad I could co-lead for the first time with you in fairy tales <3 You’re incredibly thoughtful and kind, and I’m so grateful for you and your ability to entertain my crazy ideas- This was one of my favorite sessions ever, and it wouldn’t have been nearly as good without you <3

Amber
As always, you are so fun to talk to! I had a blast getting to co-lead you this session hehe and even though I didn’t get that call during the session (fingers crossed for next week though!), I’m glad you were there. This session was so so fun and I’m really glad you were a part of it and the beautiful chaos that was fairy tales <33

Amethyst
My favorite Aussie XD Ok but seriously you are so smart and funny and responsible- I think you’re brilliant and I love your writing style as well. Thanks for showing me how fun co-leading could be, and of course I loved our Canva Convos™ so much. I hope to see you next session on the leader team again <33

Bellalalalalalalalalalalalalalala BATMAN
You are such an incredible person and I’m so glad I’ve gotten to know you better this session. I know it’s been kind of rough for you, but you are such a resilient and strong person. I love your sense of humor and your writing style (also I love ranting about romance with you)- OH AND school’s finally calming down so I can read adsom more bc it’s so good afjkds

Chloe
First of all, we were so lucky to have you in fairy tales this session <3 I’ve seen you around in the past, but I don’t think we ever talked much, and I’m so glad I did this session. You were so sweet and encouraging to me, and you made me giggle half the time with your chaos and random comments- you also have amazing writing and I hope you stick with it <33

El
I’m so glad you were in my WCG and in fairy tales this session <33 It was truly a pleasure to have you- you’re so funny and smart, and I know we didn’t talk a ton, but the times we did were truly enjoyable <3

Marbles
I know you aren’t usually in cabins as light and fluffy as fairy tales, but I hope you enjoyed this session <3 You’re so smart and funny (and you got so many words from school assignments what-). It was so fun to get to have you in our cabin, and I’m hoping to see you around next time too

Matty
I’m pretty sure you were busy with a lot of irl things this session, but you still dedicated so much time to our cabin and storyline, and I really appreciate that (even though life > swc) <3 We didn’t talk a lot, but I can tell you’re really smart and funny- I’m glad I got to get to know you this session <3

Mouse
You were so fun to talk to and joke around with this season <33 Even though you think I’m a goat, I still think you’re super smart and thoughtful. also I seriously have so much respect for the fact that you did cabin wars on mobile what- You’re such a talented leader and I hope you apply again for next session (and maybe we can be enemies again <3)

Nova
Navy bean noodley Novaaaa you’re so amazing I don’t even have words- Thank you for helping me out when I was having a rough time and also for your hilarious comments on my profile <33 You’re so funny and thoughtful and I love your writing (especially your fanfics hehe). You better be back next session >:0 /lh

Pepper
Ahh Pepper you’re so cool <3 I absolutely adore your writing and your funny comments in the main cabin- I also really loved your leader app and I hope you apply again for July <33

Poppy
POPPY- Ok, first off, I kind of stalked your writing thread and you are SO talented- like your writing is crazy good (and I’m sure you’d probably say it isn’t but you’re wrong >:0). On top of that, you are one of the most intelligent, dedicated, and hilarious people ever. Also thriller was such a fun contestant for fairy tales (even though we all know who’ll win ;D /j) so I hope you lead another cabin in the future <3

Tilly
I didn’t talk to you that much at the beginning of the session, but we talked more later and you are actually one of the kindest people ever- like I wish we’d talked more because you’re so genuine and I love that- please please come back next session <33