30 Days of Writing Prompts: Day Five

A little information before I get into my actual story.

This idea was created by Ali from HardbackHoarder on YouTube. She’s posting a prompt every day to get her, and anyone who participates, creative juices flowing. I found it to be such a fantastic idea. I think it will help get us all in shape for the crazy month that is the National Novel Writing Month. You may even find inspiration for dialogue, characters, or plots within these prompts! Anything can happen.

You can find more information at these links:

30 Days of Writing Prompts Announcement

30 Days of Writing Prompts Blog Post 

Day Five: Include these three things: A campfire, lightning bugs, and a note.

This prompt was found at OTP Prompts

The summer breeze blew through the trees that surrounded the small campsite. It’s not really a campsite, at least not one people knew about or that could be found on a map. Jada had found it years before Sam came into her life.

Sam wished, for the thousandth time, that she’s met her long before she had. They would’ve had more time.

The fire she built was minuscule and flickered threateningly in the wind. A small part of her hoped it’d go out.

She stood and put her hands in her pockets, feeling the crinkle of the smooth paper under her fingers. Her fists clenched to keep from trembling. With her back to the fire and she could see the flashes of light flying in and out of the trees.

Jada loved this place and Sam could never understand why though they’d been here plenty of times. How could the beauty of nature possibly compare to the beauty of Jada?

Before the incident the answer was simple: it couldn’t. But now she could see how alike Jada and the nature surrounding her were. Like the lightning bugs, she was a light in the darkness calling to Sam, flickering with warmth like the fire. Jada was the tree’s that surrounded and protected her, and the hesitant but strong breeze of the night.

This is where she could feel Jada. She couldn’t feel her in the small cemetery behind the run-down church. How could she?

Here’s where her memories of Jada lived, where she would hold them forever. Locked away.

Sam pulled the crumpled paper from her pocket almost harshly. Cursing herself for being so weak. She wished she were as strong as Jada was.

Sammy Sam,

It’s your birthday! Yay! You’re not my underage nugget anymore! You’re my of age nugget. I’m not sure why I’m writing this note because I’ll probably never give it to you. I’ve never been good at writing…you know that. I’d much rather tell you everything in person, but you mentioned the other day how cute and romantic you think hand written notes are.

Only for you.

You know how much I love you, I know you do. You tell me all the time that my feelings for you are loud and clear. Which makes sense…I think in general I’m a loud and clear person. But I never want to stop reminding you.

You deserve the world, Sam. I intend to be the one to give it to you. Every single day for the rest of our lives. Until there’s nothing else I could possibly give you, of myself or the world. You’ll have it all.

My heart is your heart. Your happiness is my purpose.

Yours forever until infinite,

Jay

The tears weren’t coming. Sam wanted them to come, she wanted the satisfaction of feeling her sorrow leave her drop by drop. Streaking down her face. The sorrow wasn’t leaving.

It never will.

Jada was more than the love of her life. She was her best friend, confidant, protector, supporter, happiness, soulmate, and so much more that could never be replaced.

Anger rose in her, quick and relentless. It was stolen from her, all of it. Her life, love, happiness. Jada was taken from her as quickly as an eagle dives for a field mouse and just as unforgiving.

She lifted the note, ready to rip it down the middle. She wanted to throw it in the fire, yell and scream. Punch the trees and stomp the ground.

A single lightning bug stops her. A single tiny, flickering lightning bug settled on the note.

Her anger vanished just as quickly as it appeared and all she could do was smile at the soul she felt was within that tiny life.

She smiled at the memories this place held for her. She smiled at her love, at her life. She smiled at Jada’s strength until the very end. At that moment she made a silent promise.

Only for you, Jada. I will continue living.

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30 Days of Writing Prompts: Day Four

A little information before I get into my actual story.

This idea was created by Ali from HardbackHoarder on YouTube. She’s posting a prompt everyday to get her, and anyone who participate’s, creative juices flowing. I found it to be such a fantastic idea. I think it will help get us all in shape for the crazy month that is the National Novel Writing Month. You may even find inspiration for dialogue, characters, or plots within these prompts! Anything can happen.

You can find more information at these links:

30 Days of Writing Prompts Announcement

30 Days of Writing Prompts Blog Post 

Day Four: Imagine Person A, a student at the local university, drunkenly hitting on their professor, Person B, at a bar.

This prompt was found at OTP Prompts.

His eyes follow her as she stumbles across the derelict, hardwood flooring of the hole-in-the-wall bar. He’s never seen her here, though he knows her. She sits in the third row, three seats from the aisle every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of his 12:30 English Literature class.

Her beautiful dark hair, normally pulled messily atop her head, now hangs in loose curls down her shoulders. Her copper skin glows in the dim lighting of the bar.

He’s never heard her voice. He wishes to.

She’s a student. Not again.

His eyes pull away from her to find a tall, young man pulling himself onto the rusty red barstool next to him. The man’s eyes flash to meet his own. He looks away quickly, hoping the malice he saw there wasn’t directed at him.

Dark malice.

He feels warmth and smells lilac under tobacco smoke before he sees the person next to him. She moves close and slips her arm around his waist. He inhales deeply, shoulders straightening. Dark eyes are on him, then adverted.

“Vanessa, what are you doing?” He turns slightly to look at her, trying not to shift to much. He doesn’t want to shake her off.

“Mr. Cooper,” her smile is sinuous and the smell of mint and whiskey on her breath is addictive.

A voice just as smooth as her skin looks.

Her hand slides across his back and into his hair. She massages the blond curls between her fingers.

“This is inappropriate,” he wishes his voice held more conviction.

“I hear you’re quite—disciplined—in the inappropriate,” her hot breath brushes against his ear as she stumbles to form the sentence.

Her words register. A rubber band in his mind snaps into place, “what?”

“Ambition and success are very attractive,” with slightly less difficulty.  The hand not in his hair slides down his chest as she rocks on her feet. He puts his arm around her under the guise of keeping her steady.

“Maybe I should take you home,” his mind far from wanting to take her home.

“I can think of other things I’d rather do with you,” her lips touch his neck lightly. He hasn’t had someone in so long. The need builds inside of him. He’s reminded of last time, he doesn’t care. His larger hand encases hers and he slides from the barstool. His arm closes around her waist to pull her strongly into his side.

She doesn’t protest as he pulls her outside, he doesn’t give her a chance. They are at his car parked near the back of dark lot, the only lighting near the bar entrance.

He spins her around and pushes her up against the cold door of the black SUV. His lips are on her. Neck, cleavage, anything he can reach. His hands slide around to grasp her curves.

He pulls back slightly, finally noticing her stillness. There’s a small, malevolent smile playing on her lips.

“Revenge come’s in all shapes and sizes. This is for Sadie,” vengeful hate coats her voice.

Sadie.

“Wait—” the knife pierces his back, perfectly placed to puncture his heart. The knife is immediately pulled out and he stumbles forward. He misses Vanessa as she spins out of the way and hits the car.

Gloved hands catch his wrists as he falls to the ground and flip him over.

Blackness mars his vision as those dark, malice-filled eyes meet his once again.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to join in anytime!