Week Three Creative Writing Class

Monday:

Try this 3.1 From Imaginative Writing:

Snobbish: His clothes were all designer brand and from the latest fashion show. He looked ridiculous with his ballooned-out pants and shirt filled with holes. In any other situation, his clothing would have been laughable, but with a full bank account and good breeding, he wore his clothes with pride as though his taste was above everyone else and that is why they didn’t understand it.

Arrogant: He sat down in class without anything. Everyone else unloaded their backpack onto their desks. Homework, books, laptops with essays, pencils, and paper but he did not even bring a backpack, paper, or pencil. You may think this was because he was poor but it was quite the opposite. He had the latest apple watch, but no pencil. Shoes that were more expensive than a house, but no bag. Everyone else had worked hard to be there but he hadn’t worked a day in his life. Everyone in the class hated him because they knew that despite all these things that he did not do, he would graduate with honors beside them. He would walk across the stage and accept his degree with a scoff in line with everyone who had fought and crawled to get there.

Stuck-up: She was poor but refused to act so. She had gone to country clubs with her grandmother and gone to the nutcracker every year in the finest clothes. It was these small experiences that she based her whole personality around. It didn’t matter that she went to a public school with the children of farmers, pastors, and factory workers, she thought she was the best and of the finest of breeding. It didn’t matter if a large portion of her wardrobe came from goodwill, she would tease the girl who wore the same shirt twice that week because her parents could only afford 5 tops and 2 pairs of jeans that year. The girl had a large wardrobe that she sorted through often so that she would be constantly updating her look. She would laugh if someone was impressed with something small like eating at Applebees because she had eaten at restaurants that peasants like the rest of us wouldn’t have even been let into. If you were better at something than her that instantly meant that it was something juvenile and unworthy of being good at anyway. However, she would make it clear that even her tiniest accomplishment surely made her superior to the rest of us. She would nitpick everything anyone did as “constructive feedback” on how to better ourselves and become more like her.

Try this 3.2 From Imaginative Writing:

“Please officer, I don’t know what happened. This wasn’t even my car. I borrowed it from a friend so that I could get us some sweets for our party tonight. I am from out of town and our friend group is staying at her house tonight. It’s only a block away, I don’t know how this could have happened. When I got up to the stop sign I panicked trying to figure out where her turn signal was. I have only driven old cars and it’s always in the same spot, but her car is brand new, she is going to kill me, there were no levers, only buttons, I panicked. I started looking around trying to find it and when I looked up the car in front of me had stopped and it was too late. Please, I have never crashed into anyone before. Is everyone okay? Should I call my friend? Please don’t get me in trouble, my dad barely let me come out for this weekend as it is. What should I do?”

Try this 3.3 From Imaginative Writing:

-Today on the news we found that a little girl has been kidnapped, she was on the way home from school when a stranger nabbed her. No one could have seen it coming. Police and the parents are at the scene trying to determine what and who might have caused this tragedy. This is something no parent should have to go through and we send out prayers to the parents and family and hope that the little girl is returned home soon.

-What a terrible tragedy. Today the pizza was a little too hot and when the customer bit into it the cheese burned the roof of their mouth. How could this have happened? What an outrage! We offer our prayers and comfort to this poor soul. Something like this should have never happened and we are fighting to try to find the person responsible. In the meantime, please be careful. No one should have to suffer like this for their love of pizza.

Brainstorm a Fairy Tale:

Girl escapes from being tested on. She is not sure what they put in her but soon finds out that when the sun comes up she turns into an animal. Every day it is different based on the emotions she felt while the sun was down, but soon she is discovered by a man whose job it was to try to free the test subject of that awful place.

Exert of Fairy Tale:

“Please! I beg you, I will pay off my debt. Let me free! I just need a little more time.” Leqi struggled and shivered as they strapped her to the metal chair.

“Just let me go back to my farm. The sheep's wool is nearly long enough to be sheared and harvest season is almost upon us. You can have it all! Wait… please… no!” But it was too late as the needle pierced her arm and she could feel the cold liquid enter her skin and into her body.

“Wait! What was that? Please! Anyone, talk to me.” Grabbing her arms they shoveled her down a small hallway and into one of many cells. It was cold. It was dark. And she was alone.

Leqi paced back and forth in her cell trying to figure out if anything was different. She wiggled each finger and counted each toe. She jumped, poked, talked, and even stayed as still and quiet as she could to see if she could hear her heart and tell if something was different, but nothing was. Finally, she decided that she had gotten lucky and now she just need to escape. The metal bars in the window didn’t appear to be very stable. She wiggled, pushed, and punched each bar until she found a weakness. Suddenly the blood on her knuckles didn’t bother her as she saw a glimmer of hope. The bars had shifted just enough that she might be able to squeeze through. She bit her lip as the bars cut deep into the bone of her hip.

“Just a little more… come on… oof!” She hit the ground hard as the last tug got her loose. Not looking back once she ran, hoping the moon was dim enough that she could not be spotted. She only stopped in the shadows to catch her breath and assess her surroundings. She did not know where she was or how to get back to the farm, but she knew she couldn’t return even if she wanted to.

“My poor sheep, little Benny won’t know what to do with himself without me.” She cried so hard she had to stop and catch her breath. The tears on her cheek felt foreign, slipping unhalted down her cheek. Crying was something she did often for almost every reason under the sun, but there was always the soft pillow of a sheep to cry into. The warmth of the wool and unconcerned chewing had always been a great source of comfort for her, but now she would have to do without because they knew where her farm was and she couldn’t return or risk being experimented on again.

“Don’t worry little floofs. Uncle Fedem will take care of you.” The neighbor had always been willing to help before and perhaps he would be given the farm as a way for me to pay my debt to our town. However, as the tears slowed, the desire for wool did not because she began to realize how cold it was. She tried to run to warm up but she soon felt her exhaustion hit her so she settled for walking.

“I can’t stop… if I stop I freeze. I must be far away from here come morning.” And so she did, she walked the entire night, cold, wishing for her sheep. As she walked she noticed a swirling design beginning to spread from where the needle had pierced her skin. However, she did not mind. As strange as it was, it was hardly worth griping over compared to what she was expecting from the experiment. Her cousin had gotten a tattoo before, and this mark was just as cool and not painful at all. It stopped growing after covering half her arm,

“Not bad, this can be easily hidden. If this was their way of marking me they should have done it on my face.” Her sleeve did not cover it completely but it would not be hard to hide once in the next town she found. However, at that moment she had her sleeve pulled up to look at and admire the design when a voice interrupted,

“Hello, a bit early for you to be out and about.” she stumbled a little startled but tried to play it off.

“Oh, hey… Just went for a walk in the woods and got a little lost. How far away are we from the village?” He looked at her suspiciously and she prepared to bolt but he must have accepted her story since she did look like she had been out all night.

“Don’t worry, we are actually pretty close. The sun should be up soon and you will be able to see it right away. I’m headed back so I’ll walk you.” She accepted his presence but wasn’t sure whether or not to trust him. Since he seemed to continue away from the lab she decided it should be safe.

“So what are you doing out here in the middle of the night?” He yawned in response,

“On a mission. It couldn’t wait.” He looked uncomfortable after saying it and then threw in a laugh. She eyed him,

“Is it a secret mission?”

“Very!” He shook his head in frustration at his words. She laughed at his attempts to not talk. Whatever his mission was it seemed like he was very passionate about it. She was about to push for more information when he jumped in to change the subject,

“So where did you get the tattoo? Have you been to Central City?” Her heart stopped as she realized she had never pulled her sleeve down. After panicked thinking, she decided to hide it was more suspicious than showing it so stopped to show it to him more clearly trying to appear proud of it.

“Yep! Got it with my sister…Isn’t it cool?” She blurted out too enthusiastically. He leaned in to inspect it, but when his eyes widened and his brow furrowed she knew she had messed up. With him leaning close to her she kicked her knee hard into his stomach and bolted into the trees.

“Sorry” she whispered. She had never done such a thing, but after such a stupid move like that she didn’t know what to do.

“What will I do?! He knows… he knows!” She ran faster than she had ever run hoping it would take a while for him to recover. There were still a few minutes before daybreak that she could hide before it was bright enough to find her.

After running forever she dropped to her knees.

“Surely I lost him.” The stitch in her side was growing more painful as she tried to slow her breathing but it just got worse and worse. She looked up to the sunrise as what felt like a knife dug deeper and deeper into her side. Soon she couldn’t help it anymore, she screamed. It was more agony than she had ever felt, spreading over her body on burning in her arm. Her screams grew louder and her body felt like it was breaking. Soon the pain began to subside and she panted close to the ground.

The sun was now visible on the horizon and the thicket she had stopped in was now full of light, but as she looked down familiar hooves met her eyes. Her body filled with excitement as she shouted,

“Floofs! BAAAAAAAA” She froze realizing that no words had left her mouth but a simple bleat. She stood there hooves and all, a sheep. Panic rose inside her. ‘The experiment, no, NO, NOOO!’ Worst of all, she began to hear footprints running toward her. ‘No! Not now.’ The panic was overwhelming as she became aware of how much noise she had been making in her pain. She tried to move but between her heavy shaking and new hooves, she only managed to stumble and turn toward the boy as he entered the thicket. She froze hoping he would overlook the scene. He hastily scanned the area only looking at her for a second when his head snapped to her. She jerked to see what he was looking at only to freeze. Horrified, she saw the same swirling pattern standing out black on the white fleece of her shoulder.

Slowly, she looked back at him. Defeated, she accepted her fate, but he did not rush at her as she expected. Instead, he knelt and held his open palms to his sides,

“Don’t worry… I know it’s you.” She jerked wanting to run away, but his voice continued softly, “Please I can help you. You must be terrified, but you have to trust me.” He made a slight move closer but she pushed herself clumsily backward.

“Wait…” he said. She thought she caught a slight shiver as she watched him. Careful to keep his hands visible he turned his back to her. Slowly he removed his pack, quiver, bow, and coat till he sat in a white cotton shirt. His hands paused for a moment before pulling up his shirt. Starting at his spine and spanning across his shoulder blades was the same swirling design that covered her arm.

They both sat frozen for what felt like an eternity. Every muscle in his back tensed as he fought not to shake, fighting to hold the shirt up. Finally, he let it fall as his hands fell to his sides. After taking a deep breath he turned and she could see the mist of tears in his eye. He looked vulnerable as though he had just borne part of his soul to her,

“Please,” he whispered, “Please let me help you.” She still shook but did not back away when he crawled towards her, leaving his belongings in the grass. Sitting, he extended his hand toward her, stopping short of her muzzle. She let out a crying bleat, pushing her head deep into his palm, stumbling forward. He gently guided her towards his lap trying to comfort her. She found that in this form no tears could fall but a familiar cry left her mouth as she relived the past 24 hours in his arms.

He said no words but simply stroked behind her head and occasionally held her front hoof and she wailed in his arms. Even though she could not communicate she felt as though he understood her. The mark proved that he had surely been through the same pain she had. Soon her cries lessened and her breathing slowed. He helped her up and she found that walking was not so hard to figure out once calmed down.

“My name is Cyrus, by the way. You don’t have to tell me what you have been through, I think I understand.” He pulled his coat over his shoulders, “I think it was fate that we met back there. People like you and me are my mission.”

He went on to explain how his father had gotten into deep debt and given him as payment. He talked about how worthless and abandoned he felt. He was only seven years old when they injected him.

“Shot me in the back because my arms were too small.” Many of his friends had been taken too, but nearly all had died from the experiment, and the others he was separated from. She tried to ask questions, including what the experiment had done to him, but quickly became frustrated that no words would leave her mouth. After her bleating would stop, he would apologize for not understanding and continue. He went on to explain growing up in the lab and how he had only recently escaped.

“You see, that is the secret mission I was telling you about. I came back to these woods in hopes of helping people like me. I am not strong enough yet to break in and save everyone, but I was hoping that someone else would be able to escape and I could help them. I have been coming here every night for months hoping to find someone. Maybe that is why I didn’t recognize you as a victim straight away. I had begun to lose hope.” He looked at her with a smile, but his face slowly turned downcast,

“Although, I am sorry I wasn’t strong enough to save you before they did this to you.” She bumped him with her nose gently to encourage him, but inside she felt a guilty resentment wishing that he had, in fact, saved her sooner because as she stood now she would surely be a sheep all her life.

He told her that they should wait till nightfall to enter the village so no one would question her mark. She looked to the sky, just then noticing that the sun had almost completed its trek across the sky. He began to pull food from his bag for supper but she refused to eat knowing that she would soon have to acknowledge the question of whether or not she could eat human food like this. He did not push her either since he too did not know and knew better than to ask her right now.

To ease her mind he continued to tell stories of what he had done since he had escaped. While his voice was soothing, she could not focus on the words because her mind was buzzing with questions. Even though the sun had only begun to head towards the edge of the sky she fell asleep, feeling her exhaustion take over. Seeing this he went quiet and got up to gather wood for a fire. He stayed close not wanting to lose the treasure he had found today. His heart was light and he hummed little tunes as he picked up the wood.

The sky began to grow dark so he turned to head back with his arms full. He had only taken a few steps when a piercing bleat cut through the air. He dropped everything and ran towards the sound, ‘why did I leave her? Why did I go so far?’. The sounds grew more distressed and he could hear her screams building. When he got to the entrance of the thicket he paused for a second stunned at the scene.

The bleats had indeed begun to change to screams. He saw the sheep's body twisting, flailing, and turning. And changing. He rushed to her side as her limp human body fell into his arms.

“Please! No!” he gently shook her unresponsive body,

“Fight it! You can’t leave me too… please… don’t let the experiment break you too.” He held her body close, beginning to cry into her hair.

Nearly a minute had gone by when a huge gasp filled her body. She jumped to her feet stumbling and confused, but he jumped up to prepare to catch her,

“Breath! It’s okay. Just take a second.” She continued to stumble, looking dazed. He grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and forced her to look into his eyes,

“Snap out of it! It’s me, Cyrus. Look!” He held her hand and pulled it up for her to see,

“See? You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He gently rubbed her hand and realization came to her eyes. She burst from his hold, holding her hands in front of her. Inspecting her hair and body,

“It’s me.” She jolted at the sound of her own voice,

“It’s me!” she gasped with delight running to embrace him. She cried into his arms again, but this time for joy. She hugged him tight, filled with gratitude and relief.

Wednesday:

Try this 3.4 From Imaginative Writing: Person sketch of someone you dislike

-She is a manipulating monster. She becomes your best friend so she can get close to your heart and do as much damage as possible without being suspected because she has the ability to bully you from within the guise of being your best friend.

- “no one ever liked me for me. I hurt you because I want you to feel like I do. You aren’t beautiful until I say you are because that is what my dad did for me.

Try this 3.5 From Imaginative Writing: Continued bumper sticker person

Before kids, I felt a little bit more in control of my life. I felt as though I didn’t have to worry as much and have to try so hard all the time. I dreamed about being a good mom and scoffed at the mothers who did stuff that I now do with my kids. I judged mothers for becoming what I have become, but now I feel more okay. I am still a good mom and the important thing is that I handle it. I don’t have to handle it perfectly.

Talk about Language:

When I was growing up in Mexico there was a lot of words I didn’t understand since I had barely learned english before beginning to learn spanish. Since a lot of words sounded similar in english as they did in spanish, I would often make wrong connections. One that I did often was when people would ask me how I was, I would answer “tired” or “triste”. They would always get overly concerned trying to figure out what was wrong and it wasn’t until I came to America and had a Spanish class that I found out that “triste” actually meant “sad”. This meant that I, being a missionary kid in Mexico, must have appeared very depressed to everyone which is hilariously embarrassing looking back. There are a lot of other moments where I have thought I knew what I was saying, but I actually was quite wrong. Another time that I had a problem was when something taught to me in Spanish class did not hold true to the location in Mexican I was staying in. This particular moment has scared me forever and to this day I still think about it. Don’t worry it wasn’t as bad as I was making it sound. The only reason it scarred me so badly was that I was young and alone. This made me very upset trying to figure it out.

The situation I speak of is when we were guests at someone’s house and they were holding a huge party. Everyone spoke Spanish so I was already slightly uncomfortable. We were eating and I just wanted to get some water. I had been taught that water was “agua” and I even double-checked it with my, mom, before I went to ask for it. She told me it was correct, but when I went to the lady asking for “agua” her only response was “what kind?” I was confused and simply repeated “agua” to which she asked again “what kind?” and seeing my confused face she began to panic and name flavors such as “orange juice, pomegranate juice, apple juice” and the like. However, I only repeated agua. We repeated this way for a while, both getting more and more flustered until my mom came over to see my trouble. After clearing it up and getting me water she corrected and explained that in the region of mexico “agua” translated to “juice”, which explained why she asked what kinds. She then explained that if I wanted water I would have to specify “agua naturál” which translates “natural water”. While this was a good learning experience, it still haunts me to this day.

Out of Context Conversation:

I know sumo!

Really?

Yes, I am undefeated in my fights against my brother and dog

Both laugh

We would always bulk up on food and stuff pillows up our shirts before full-body jumping at each other

Did you get hurt

All the time, mom would yell at us so we would just use more pillows to supposedly be more safe as we tackled and hit eat other

How old were you

Most recent was when over Christmas break lol

In-class free-write about snow:

It’s not that I don’t like snow. I love the way it falls slowly and large enough that you can follow its path to the ground. I like the way it cushions the sounds and gives me peace. I like the crunch it makes under my boots and the exquisite quality of photography you can capture. However, there are a good many things I do not like about snow. I don’t like how bright it makes the world. My eyes are constantly squeezed tight in defiance of sunlight that now comes from all directions. Even at night, my room lights up from the snow outside that seems to bounce every fragment of light into my eyes as I sleep. If it stopped there I would accept it and love it, but the pain does not end there. The cold dry air assaults my lungs as I fight for every breath. Everyone else seems to do just fine but as the snow packs deep above the ground, I feel the weight pressing on my lungs. The wind cuts through my clothes and the water seeps through my shoes. If it was a sledding date I could survive and have fun. But the battle is not worth it to end up sitting wet for hours in a classroom.

Friday:

Living through and in covid:

When it first started happening we weren’t that worried. People started getting sick, but no one around us got very sick. We were all young on campus so almost none of us got sick. If anything it was just inconvenient. It was only the second semester of my first year at college, so this interruption was more annoying than anything. We were all angry wanting to stay at school, but group by group they started sending us home. At first, it was optional to leave so I chose to stay because I knew doing art classes at home would be very difficult and I wanted to stay with my friends, but it wasn’t long before they forced everyone to go home and switch to online classes. The exchange students and students who were not able to return home were isolated in the townhouses where they weren’t allowed to leave. I was picked up in a hurry by my dad in michigan who had to pick up my brother from south carolina and my sister and me from Indiana all before the borders closed to Michigan. We lived in the country so we didn’t see much of what was going on and kept telling each other that it would be over by fall and when we went back to college it would be back to normal. However, we were very wrong. Even though we were able to go back, it was nothing like when we had first arrived. The communities that were thriving and highly encouraged freshmen year were forbidden and restricted. We couldn’t visit each other's dorms or even eat in the cafeteria and everyone had to wear a mask at all times. While it was still warm we were able to hang out outside with each other without masks, but when it got colder we were forced to go inside where we had almost no time together. The friendships and communities under Christ that had flourished freshmen year were squelched. Depression hit hard on everyone but we couldn’t talk about it. Everyone buried their emotions behind their masks. Even though we were a Christian university, the campus fell dead. The only reason for living was schoolwork which had become equally depressing. In class, everyone wore masks and were separated as far from each other as possible. It was hard to hear the teacher and all group work and discussions were not allowed. Even now, three years later the school is just barely feeling like it did freshman year. But even then there are things from freshman year that have not returned and I am saddened with each incoming freshmen group that I know will not have the chance to experience what should have been. There is hope for the future of the college as it recovers, but I can’t help feeling like part of my college experience was stolen from me.

More of the overheard:

They stood across the room from each other laughing.

It didn’t matter if they were college kids because in that moment they both looked like little boys.

“Come at me, bro!”

“Nah! You first.” He punched the pillow stuffed under his shirt.

“Fine! Let's do this.” He stomped his feet in reply.

“I’m cooooooooming!”

“SUUUUUUMOOOOO FIGHTTTT!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

*crash

“Bro!”

“Bro!”

“I think I pulled something.”

“Does that mean I win?”

“Oh yeah?!” Jumps on him again.

“Ouch! Now I think I’m hurt”

“Does that mean I win?”

“HAHA!” punches and fights continue

“Alright, seriously though we should stop. That’s starting to hurt.”

“Ha, that’s what you used to say in front of mom, but mom can’t save you now.”

“Booo! Low blow.” More wrestling. RA walks in.

“Hey, stop it you two.”

“Uh, oh new mom is here to save you”

“Shut up lol.”