Calling all creative writers! This is a column run by Nathaniel Lee to inspire readers to write. The column includes writing prompts, pieces by the coordinators, and occasional submissions from readers.
This month: short stories from Riley Barta and Nathaniel Lee.
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.
Here are some prompts to get you started. They can be used for anything, though some specify poetry or short stories. This month, the theme prompt is Halloween.
1. Write about a costume competition at a Halloween party.
2. You are the owner of the best Halloween costume store in town. Then a rival costume store moves in... and sets up shop right next to you.
3. Write about someone whose busiest night of the year is Halloween.
4. Write about someone’s first Halloween as a ghost.
5. Write a story about someone spending the night in an old Victorian home-turned-hotel on Halloween.
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, 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.
It happens every two months. The sky darkens, and a transparent net grabs at others in the colony. It happens so fast they do not notice until they are being pulled into the heavens. I know soon the net will come after me, and no matter how fast I go, it will catch me. We are all placed into an empty dome. Most of the colony does not recognize they have been moved at all. Eventually, the net comes back, it lifts us all in one swoop.
I have learned not to run from it anymore.
We are placed into a world that looks like the one I came from, but it is different. The towering log is still there, my cave is still there, the duckweeds still litter the sky, but I know it is different. The slime that once covered the entrance of my cave is gone. The smog has seemingly disappeared. I used to be scared whenever the net came to transfer me into a new universe. All of my resistance was futile at the end of the light cycle.
The same god that drops food pellets controls what my world looks like. Sometimes, a new member is added to the colony. The last one to be added was a bottom feeder. I don’t see him much anymore. Everyone else leaves me alone now. I like it that way. I hunker down in my cave, and I only go out for the annual krill shower. The krill began raining down. I ate in my corner while examining my surroundings.
The corner I ate in always had a weird slant to the water and, whenever I went to see it further, I was stopped by some unknowable force. I looked at the slant again today and saw a ferocious beast looking back. It was huge, larger than anything I’ve seen in my life. Its face was flat and distorted. I rushed away as fast as I could. That must have been the same creature that caused the krill showers. That must be the same creature that causes the universe to change. I hunker back into my cave.
I am going to stay there for a while.
This is why I hate kids, I thought. Four of the little monsters ran around my feet, screaming in excitement.
“Why do I have to do this again?” I asked my parents, struggling to be heard of the cacophony of child sounds.
“All the adults in the neighborhood are going to a big Halloween party. Our neighbors asked if you could take their kids and some of their friends trick or treating.”
“Do I have a choice?”
My mom laughed, barely noticeable underneath her vampire makeup. “It’ll be fun! Besides, they’re paying you.”
“Fine. I’ll have the kids back by ten o’clock, put them in bed, and stay until the parents get home.” They smiled and left the house along with our neighbors. I didn’t want to do this. I had a bad feeling about it anyway, but it’s not like I could just tell them. They wouldn’t—couldn’t—understand.
“Can we go now?” one of the kids asked, tugging on my sleeve.
I smiled sweetly. “We need to wait for the sun to set.”
I didn’t know these kids that well. They ranged from six to eight years old and I’d been at college for the past several years, so the last time I saw them they were toddlers or younger. I’d babysat the oldest when he was a toddler, but the others were too young.
“Alright everyone, head to the living room,” I said, using what my friends called the “mom voice”. The kids went in and played a game, and I mentally prepared for the suffering I was about to endure. The sun finally set, and I glanced out the window. Across the street, a tall person wearing black robes was standing underneath the streetlight, staring at me through the window. The light flickered, and the person disappeared.
“C’mon kids, let’s go.” The kids got up, put their shoes on, and we headed out.
“Where are we going first Miss Addison?” they asked.
“We’ll just go a street over to start with. And just call me Addison.”
“Okay, Miss Addison!” They ran ahead, and I had to chase after them.
We went to house after house until their bags were full, then we went home. As we turned onto the street, I noticed someone standing in the middle of the road, dressed in all black.
“Kids, run into the house and lock the door.” They did so, and the figure didn’t move.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“You know me,” the figure rasped.
I shook my head. “I don’t recall meeting a creepy dude wearing all black who smells of death.”
“You would know about death, wouldn’t you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
The figure advanced towards me. “You have caused much death in your lifetime. Do not deny it, for I know your mind.”
“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to stop moving towards me, or I will pepper spray you into the afterlife.” I pulled said pepper spray out of my pocket.
He continued moving towards me and pulled down his hood, revealing a frighteningly realistic skull. “I am the afterlife.”
“Bet.” I tossed the pepper spray in the air. It changed, extending into a three-foot length of Damascus steel that was glowing faintly. I caught the broadsword and the skeleton guy backed up several feet, then regained his confidence.
“You cannot kill me. I am Death.” Death raised his hand and the asphalt cracked. Skeletal fingers broke through, followed by the rest of the body. When they stood up, all six of them, Death laughed, sounding like nails on a chalkboard.
“You will fail, and we will take your life!”
I spun the sword once in my hand. “Nice try, Grimm.”
Then I charged.
