Calling all creative writers! This is a column run by Averie Black to inspire readers to become writers. The column includes writing prompts, pieces written by the coordinators, and occasional submissions from readers.
This month: Two short stories by Averie Black and Gabrielle A. Hart!
Below is a set of prompts for different styles of writing beyond journalism. The idea is that you can create some kind of creative writing piece inspired by one of the prompts, but it doesn't have to be. You can submit any piece of writing you would like to share! All submissions should be school-appropriate. You can also suggest prompts to be featured in the next issue.
Each month, one submission to Creative Corner will win a prize! This month's prize goes to Gabrielle A. Hart. Conratulations, Gabrielle! We will be in touch!
Here are some prompts to get you started. You can follow a prompt or submit a unique piece of work. The prompts can be used for anything, though some specify poetry or short stories. This month, the prompts are:
Write about a character's dream.
Write about someone visiting from another timeline.
Write a Shakespearean sonnet.
Write about all of the different phases of a character's life.
Write about a crew of pirates.
If you have any prompt ideas in mind that you haven't seen on here yet or would like to see someone else respond to, then drop them in the Google Form below and I'll try to get them in the next issue! I sometimes don't see the response until after the issue is published, so I'm sorry if it takes a couple of months.
My body was buzzing. It got like this sometimes, almost as if my body was objecting to my thoughts. Everything ran through my head so fast. Little clip after little clip. Snippets of my life. Of ours. It paralyzed me useless. That first text from Tash drained cement into my stomach. Months of little to no communication led me straight to sitting in a cafe at the halfway mark. Mike's Place– the only cafe in a little nothing town exactly two hours from Tash’s university and two hours from mine. The coffee was terrible, but a full mug of it sat in front of me on the glossy table. I don’t know why I got it. I can’t drink anything in this state.
Tash was late. Nothing unusual, but it only elongated my dread. The fluorescent light above my table flickered and I felt like I could hear the man ordering blink. I could see my car parked outside. My heart jumped at the idea of crawling back home, but I couldn’t leave without seeing Tash. As much as seeing her would hurt– I loved her. I tried to concentrate on my muddy coffee, but the door jingled and a woman entered. I looked up. Tash– with her long brown hair and square jaw. Her willowy clothes were hanging off her lanky figure and her bright blue eyes could guide a ship to shore.
“Parker,” she broke into a wide and gleaming smile. “Hi.”
A sob choked up my greeting. Not the kind of sob with tears, gasping, and snot. The kind that gets caught in your throat and tightens around your lungs. A living thing Tash could see wrapped around me. She could always read my face. I sat stupidly, looking up at her like a child. Before I could move, Tash’s arms squeezed around my shoulders, and her face was buried in my hair. Relief bloomed in my chest. It's a good thing I showered this morning.
“Hi,” I finally replied.
She untwined from me, sliding into the booth across the way. My heart quickened and I was suddenly ravenous, like that hug reset my body to default. Tash reached across the table and stole a mouthful from my mug.
“God,” she said grimacing, “since when have you taken it black, Parker?”
Oh, so that’s why it tastes terrible. Tash selected one of the pastel sugar packets from the array of jams and butter. She ripped it open with her teeth and poured the sweetness into the coffee-stained cup from all the customers before us. I watched her movements in silence. What was I supposed to say? "How are you?" So bland. For someone I have known for over four years and haven’t had a proper conversation with in months, I should have something better to say than how are you.
“You have bangs now,” I pointed out.
Tash pulled on a strand of her newly cut hair. “Yes! I was getting bored with my old hair. I needed a change. There is this girl on my floor. Anna. She cuts all of the girls' hair. She is really good. I’ve hung out with her a lot lately.”
“She sounds cool,” I reply.
It was hard not to feel a twinge of jealousy. This random girl Tash barely knows is getting to spend more time with her than I am. It sounds selfish, and it is, but I’ve been Tash’s person for a long time and the thought of someone else making her laugh as much as I used to makes me sick.
“Definitely. Who have you been hanging out with? I want some of that fancy private school drama.” Tash leaned closer, lacing her fingers together and grinning at me with anticipation.
So I started talking. I talked about how this other freshman, Chase Lowell, got caught cheating on his girlfriend with a 27-year-old. I talked about how cryptic messages have been written on the mirrors in the bathrooms. I talked about how there was a huge friend group split after a game of Truth or Dare got out of hand. Out of everything I talked about, I never mentioned how I was not a part of any of the stories. Not even a side character. While everyone else was getting cheated on and making lifelong friendships, I was somewhere nearby, people watching and drowning in self-pity. Potential friends came and went as easily as they could smell my desperation. After years of being with Tash, and only Tash, I guess I forgot how to let people know me.
My coffee ran cold and the manager started replacing the breakfast menus with lunch menus. He did not seem very pleased about us taking up a booth for this long, but our reunion was too anticipated for me to care. Tash spoke about her new friends and her classes. Her beautiful campus and the cats that frequented the courtyard. Life at her university seemed like heaven. A far reach from the town we grew up in. More people, more freedom, more opportunities for Tash to be the glittering ball of light that she is.
I don’t know why it was so hard for me to live without her constant presence. Everyone around me was moving on so fast and looking so far into the future. Why was I left behind in the past? Why do I keep trying to cling to this person who is slowly forgetting me? Even as I am in front of her, I see her study my face in a way I've never seen her look at me before. The way you would look at a friendly face whose name was long forgotten. Tash had new friends and a new town and I was alone.
“Are you okay, Parker?” Tash sounded concerned.
I nodded, “Yeah I’m good, but I think I should start the drive back home.”
As much as I wanted to sit here for another couple of hours and pretend nothing had changed, the more I looked at Tash the more resentment grew. The more my resentment grew, the more guilt I felt for being so resentful. A cycle of bitterness began spinning in my head and I do not want that to be the last thing I feel while looking at her.
“Good idea. I’m going to get dinner with Anna tonight and do a movie marathon. Can’t be late.”
Of course, she couldn’t be late for that.
We slid out of the seats, which had been firmly molded to our butts, and walked out towards the parking lot. The manager seemed relieved when we left. The lunch rush was probably coming soon.
“I’m over there.” Tash nodded to the opposite side of the parking lot.
“I guess this is where we part then.”
We stood there for a second, just looking at each other. I couldn't help but feel like this was the last time I’d see Tash. She pulled me into another hug, just as sweet as the first one, but it didn’t hold any comfort this time.
“I’ll see you later, Parker,” she said as her arms tightened around me.
“Bye, Tash,” I whispered.
It was September 18, 2025. I stepped out my door and turned around to close it behind me. Room two-fifty-six, the thirtieth floor. I walked over to the elevator and pushed the button. I waited. After a moment, the door opened and I walked inside. There was a man there: tall, wearing old clothes. Oh, and he had very prominent graying hair. I looked over at him for a moment, slightly concerned about his appearance, but since it’s always awkward to stand in an elevator with a stranger, I decided to strike up a conversation.
“Hi, my name’s Hunter.” I said, reaching my hand out. I waited a moment for a response, but none came.
I looked up at the mirror across from me and I could swear I saw my brother. I look just like him, but younger. We both have the same blond hair, blue eyes, and white, movie-star teeth. His name’s Henry. He moved out just over a year ago. I’ll never forgive him. He left me with my two other brothers, my mom, and my dad. He always liked me, his favorite brother, my favorite brother. Yes, I pick favorites. My two other brothers, Joel, and Trey, never can match him, no matter what they do. Why did he have to get married? Sister-in-laws are overrated, really. They hold your friends and family hostage. Like the Duolingo bird. I look back up at the mirror from my daydreams and see the man again. I really wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t know why.
“You from around here?” For a moment there was no sign that he heard me until he spoke.
“No.”
“Oh, good. I didn’t recognize you, and I was worried that I didn’t know someone who lives here.”
"Does it bother you?”
"If you lived here and I didn’t know your name? Yeah.”
“Oh.” By now, I realized that he wasn’t much of one to talk to, but I really was enjoying the company, so I ignored the realization.
“I can prove it. I know a lot of people. There’s a girl who lives on the twelfth floor. She’s thirty…” I raised my hand to my forehead. “Two, I think. Her name is Marilyn. You know, like Monroe? But not Monroe, of course. My mom and her are friends through a friend. She’s single.” I desperately waited for a response this time.
“Your mom?” The man asked. I sighed out loud and finally realized that I didn’t want to talk anymore, so the rest of the way down was utter silence.
Once down, I stepped out and braced myself against the back of a chair. I'm always dizzy after getting off the elevator. It's some weird vertigo thing. I would much rather take the stairs, but you can’t easily go up and down thirty flights of stairs all the time. The girl who works the desk looked at me from across the room and I jokingly flipped my hair out of my eyes and looked at her in that freakish, cool boy, “flirty” way. She glared at me and turned to the old couple coming in, Reymundo and Elizabeth. I walked over to her and stand against the desk, resting on my arm.
“Hey, Ari. How’s the shift going?” I said. She handed Reymundo his mail and walked over to me, mimicking my pose from across the counter.
“Terrible.”
“Oh, really?” I said slowly, adding more and more sarcasm to my voice.
“Yeah, I have had so few people needing help today that I’ve had to sit back and listen to Van Halen and Tina Turner all day. Oh, and even worse, I’m getting paid for this!”
“No! That’s awful.”
"I know. I’m not sure how I’m gonna make it. Life’s too hard.”
“I’m sorry.”
"Oh, Hunter. I think I might just cry.” With that, I finally broke down laughing. No, really. she’s more sarcastic than anyone I know. It also helps that I’ve never seen her cry, and that she loves Van Halen more than anything or anyone. She soon followed my actions and we were in hysterics.
“Hey, Ari?”
“Yeah.”
“Me, Nick, Christopher, and Daryl are heading across the street. I was wondering If you’d like to come. I could introduce you to Daryl for once. Besides, I think Christopher’s bringing Sherri along.”
“Oh, so you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend so that you can finally show up Christopher, and rub something in Nick’s face?”
“Noooooo…”
“Fine, I’ll go, but only for a minute. And don’t try to pull anything. Okay?”
“Sure.” I smiled, I truly was happy. Man, this is gonna go well.
She closed up the computer and put some things away, then finally came out from behind the desk, walked over to the door and called back to me.
“Come on!” I ran to catch up with her and we crossed the busy streets, surrounded by people.
Once across, we walked into a building. Inside, there were bright colors everywhere and a very vibrant Nick, screaming out my name for everyone to hear.
“Hunter, Hunter, Hunter! Blondie! Hunter!” Together, Ari and I walked toward the counter, ignoring Nick’s desperate cries for attention. A drip of ice cream fell on Ari’s head. She looked at me, disappointed.
“Where have you taken me, again?”
When we got up there, I ordered my usual chocolate shake from Mandi, the girl who works the same shift as Daryl.
“You want anything?” I asked Ari, pulling my wallet out from my back pocket.
“No, I’m good.”
“And she’ll take one, too, but with two dollars worth of sprinkles.” I smiled when I saw the look on her face. Yeah, if your friends don’t screw with you sometimes, you’re really missing out.
We walked over to Nick and his pleas finally subsided.
“Hey, Nick. How’s it going?”
“Good.”
“Nice.” I slugged him in the shoulder and looked around for Daryl. “Where’s the guy at?”
“Daryl? Said he’d be back in a minute.”
“Sounds like him.” I jumped up on the seat, sitting on the back of the booth behind Christopher, handing Ari her drink over Nick’s head. She sat across from me, next to Sherri. They talked for a minute, getting to know each other, while I caught up with Christopher. Finally, Daryl came over. I guess Mandi must have sent him this way because he normally doesn’t look for us.
“Hey, Daryl!” we three guys called out. I jumped off the booth and ran over to him, acting like this was the first time I’d seen him in years.
“Hi. Mandi said you were all here. Guess she wasn’t lying.”
“Nope.” Nick ran over to Daryl and rested his arm on his shoulder. Daryl quickly shrugged him off.
“You guys are acting like you did when you got into a four-pound bag of Pixie Stix in seventh grade.”
“Wow, Daryl. That’s harsh.” I said, sighing like I was one of those people to take everything personally. Christopher jumped up and started patting me on the shoulder, looking at Daryl, with the “How could you?” look and, soon, Nick followed. Now we were all staring at him with these huge, sorry, puppy eyes that he couldn’t ignore.
“What did I do?” We died just about then. Nick was literally on the floor laughing. Christopher and I didn’t go quite that far and yet both girls looked at us all like we belonged in a mental asylum, which only made things worse. Eventually, people realized that they didn’t know one of those girls who was sitting there and I realized that I should probably introduce Ari at some point or another.
“Oh, hey guys. This is Ari.”
“Yeah, I know her. We’re in math or something at school,” Nick interrupts.
“Let him finish, Nick. He’s hardly started and you’re interrupting.” Christopher said, nudging Nick in the ribs.
“Fine,” Nick said and made little talking symbols with his hands while he made some jabbering noise. I ignored it and continued.
“She works down on the first floor at my apartment complex. She’s a good friend of mine, and I just thought I’d introduce her to you.” I said this, trying to sound overly humble.
“Oh, yeah. You just thought, hmm, I know you, and you know what? Why don’t I introduce you to all of my closest friends on a whim.” Christopher looked at me while saying this. Nick looked a little agitated, which is what I really wanted.
“Yeah. I guess.” I smiled.
“All right. How long have you been with her, Hunter?” Daryl finally asked.
“A few weeks. That’s all.”
“A few weeks!” they all yelled.
“And why do we know this just now?” Christopher asked. Now, Nick was looking really agitated. Christopher looked happy and, for once, Daryl looked like he approved of me. Nick progressively looked more and more unhappy until suddenly…
“Bachelor’s party at Hunter’s place!” he yelled out.
“What? No! You can’t. Nick!” I called after them, but they were already out the door.
I said the fastest goodbye to Ari and Sherri and then ran after them, hoping to get there before they busted down a wall or something. The girls were laughing their heads off, and I would have loved to join them if I wasn’t worried about my life when my parents got back from work to see whatever disaster my friends had caused.
I ran outside. The guys were running straight across the street, cars honking, everything. Nick was literally spinning in circles. I got to the crosswalk and saw him collapse on the sidewalk. Daryl picked him up and they kept running. I got to the other side of the road and started to sprint. Literally. I got into the building and saw them down the hall, just a little to the left. They stepped into the elevator just before I had time to get in it. Guess what? The door closed. I banged my head on the metal door. The only thing I could imagine was the terror that they were going to cause.
