Ultimate writing competition!



Woah, I have barely read any of it, but it looks good. I am eager to see not only how everyone entering will do, but how I will do judging.


Thanks, Sophia. It’s just something I typed up a couple days ago. XD


Sorry I forgot

I might not be able to finish it


Okay, I think I’m gonna enter. I typed my entry just now, but it is very… cringeworthy. I’ll edit it in the morning and post it tomorrow.
I’ll probably loose. Oh well. It was fun.


I added myself but be warned that I may not be able to do all challenges :slight_smile:


Here it is. I’ll give you a trail art request or some5ing if you can tell me the very, very important tv show I mention.

It’s also here.

I was hiking in the forest when it happened. I had come to a bend in the trail and something seemed to just hit me. When I woke I was in a room I didn’t recognize. I was laying on a metal bed, which was just big enough to fit me. Weird. Who has beds exactly 5’ 4” long? The room was simple, just dirty metal walls about fifteen feet long each. My bed was in the back right corner from where I was facing as I was asleep. I saw no doors, but I somehow got in here, didn’t I? The floor was weird. It was orange and slightly glowed. I was just about to step on it when a sudden pain stabbed at my right arm, just above the elbow. I turned towards the pain and though I saw a flying fish, but I couldn’t have. I must have been hallucinating, as I was feeling weird. I figured the pain must’ve been an injection given to me by the flying fish, but then I passed out.

When I woke I was in my bed at home. I had a really bad headache and my throat was really sore, but I was able to get up. I walked to the kitchen and got a drink, thinking it would help with my throat, it didn’t, so I decided to make something to eat. While I was doing so, I checked the clock. 5:57. My dad would be getting up soon to go to work. By the time my food was done, it was 5:59. I ate my food and had just finished at 6:03 when my dad came out. He asked me what I was doing, and I tried to say something, but I couldn’t speak. So I got a piece of paper and a pen and wrote I’m eating. he asked me why I was eating more than three hours before I usually wake up. I just wrote I don’t know why I woke up now. All I know is I’m dumb. he laughed at that and agreed, then asked why. I had run out of room on the paper so I wrote on the back I don’t know. I had a weird dream with a flying fish that gave me a shot. It must’ve been a dream, that was the only explanation. He just shook his head and left. I was still unnaturally hungry so I ate ravenously for the next two hour or so, and by then my throat was cleared up.

The next day I was walking home from school with my mom, when suddenly I passed out. When I woke up I was in a hospital, and for some reason unable to move.
“Am I tied down or something?” I asked.
My mom, who had been talking worriedly with a doctor looked at me and said my legs had spontaneously stopped working, and I couldn’t walk anymore. I obviously took that news badly. I was so shocked I opened and closed my mouth about twenty-two times before I finally said
“Well. That’s lame.”
I thought it was pretty good, but my mom just said I’m not Fred Weasley. I pointed out that it was actually George who lost his ear. She didn’t take that well. She made me pay for the wheelchair rental, which annoyed me even more, but I didn’t want to pay for anything else so I didn’t say anything.

After that, life went on as normal for a few months, if constantly being questioned about what happened and tested could be called normal. It was October 16 and I was in the middle of watching a very, very important tv show, when my mom told me to get in the car. I got in the car and we drove to the hospital, where I got some very surprising news.
“In your blood we found a material nit native to the human body. We think it was causing you to be dumb and lame,” a doctor explained to me.
“Thanks,” I said.
“You know what I mean. Anyway, we recently found a chunk of metal, which had pure samples of the same material. We now know how to extract out from your body,” the doctor said, “but it will be dangerous. The operation was never tested on a human.”
“I don’t care. Let’s do it,” I said.

A few days later, I went to the hospital. The doctors were all excited, and they even reserved the largest operating room for me. I felt nervous, like I’d been sentenced to death and was being brought to my execution. I decided I’d say some final words, just in case. I’d probably become famous if I die or live, though I’d prefer to live without being famous. I was brought to the operating room and placed on a weird table. I hadn’t ever seen one like it. One of the surgeons must’ve noticed me looking at it curiously because she said “It’s been made special just for this operation.”
I said my last words which are to be kept private because I lived. After that they gave me something which made me fall asleep pretty quickly, and when I woke up I felt groggy, as if I had overslept but had to take very advanced tests.
“You’re cured,” was the first thing I heard.
Since I was cured I decided to stand. And I succeeded. But the weirdness wasn’t over yet. It was only beginning.

“We have something to tell you.” A strange man in a blue suit was saying to me. “Something we think you’ve suspected all along. Your dream about a flying fish was not a dream. It was real. You were abducted by aliens. We can’t explain how they made your family forget you were on a hike, but they somehow did. We found trace amounts of your DNA at the crash site. We believe that intelligent life exists far away, and that they’ve found us. Who knows what they’re like? If they’re like us then we can’t blame them for experimenting with you. We would’ve done the same.”
That made me mad. They thought the alien who freaking abducted me and made me lame had acted as humans would. I got mad, and before I knew what I was doing, half the surgeons in the room were restraining me and the man had a bloody nose.
“Sorry. Don’t know what happened,” was all I could manage.

That was all about a month ago now. Now I’m perfectly normal, not famous at all. I requested that the hospital kept my identity secret, and they did. My mom even pulled me out of school to avoid arousing suspicion. I’ll go back next year though. Until then I’m basically homeschooled. It’s fun. I don’t have to get up at nine. I understand that for most schools, that’s late, but mine’s special. It encourages learning, not being told stuff while you’re basically sleepwalking. Anyway, my family and the hospital are the only ones besides myself who know I was abducted by aliens. I guess the government, too. They’re always spying on everyone. Not even you know who I am.

-Mysterious eighth grader who was abducted by aliens on October 2nd, 2017.


Not having been to school in years it was weird to write in the point of view of a character who goes to school. As you can see, his school is more efficient.


Oh no! No time! Is it eastern or western. Time?


EST. As in East coast of US.


Okay,I will look at it tonight.


Don’t worry, me too!


So, could I make something under three paragraphs? Just wondering…


You might get points taken off… I didn’t say the paragraphs had to be long.


Can’t do spiral draws. They don’t work on my iPad.


Shadow sighed. All her life she had been alone. No good seemed to come from her. She always pulled the shortest straw and got the brunt of everything. Her life was wrapped in eternal sadness. Her spirits were weighed down by sandbags. Keeping her grounded. For good. The thought of flight didn’t cheer her anymore. She had to shake this, but how? There was no possible way!

Arctic walked by and Shadow felt her heart beat faster. Well, maybe
there was a way after all. She stood up and stretched her wings in the sunlight, revealing silvery star marks on her wings. Arctic whirled around.

“Hi Shadow,” he said. Shadow smiled. She was about to speak when a
glittering white bullet flung itself at Shadow, spitting madly. Shadow froze for a moment as her brain caught up, then let out a mighty roar. She unsheathed her talons and gathered a burst of fire in her mouth. Long daggers raked her sides as she rolled over, trapping her attacker beneath her. She stood up and launched the flame in her mouth at them. The ice dragon shrieked in pain and Shadow backed away. The attacker looked at Shadow, saw she was dripping with purple blood, and ran away.

“You okay?” Arctic asked as he rushed over to Shadow and put his
head on her shoulder.

“You know what? That was one of the best things that have happened
to me,” said the black dragon, “Now I’m not glum anymore!”


Couldn’t find indent, used return instead


That’s okay. I will read it tonight.


Oh, so you’re in 8th grade?


DISCLAIMER: I am extremely sorry for going over the limit, but once I started writing I just had to finish this story. It couldn’t be done in five paragraphs. Again I apologize. (Also warning: very very mild violence, but if any sort of cut, even in writing, bothers you, I recommend not reading this, because there is mention of that kind of thing. I AM SORRY. ._.)

I glance disgustedly at the scar carved into my palm. That scar is a reminder of everything I’ve done wrong– every mistake, regret, or decision. It most certainly isn’t pretty. The wound had drawn a deep line diagonally across my hand. When others have the misfortune to see it, they immediately look away, hoping their disgust would go unnoticed.

I had earned that scar two years ago, when I saw the village engulfed in fire. My adopted mother had told me to go pick some flowers. She knew of my curse, and I couldn’t do much else. Her voice had said clearly: “Go find some zinnias… maybe an amaryllis. Shower the house with color.” My 13 year old self had nothing better to do, so I set off into the fields looking for pretty daisies or traces of pinkish petals among the blades of grass. It had taken me an hour to collect 20 or 30 zinnias. I was disappointed that I couldn’t find a field of amaryllises, but it would have to do. On the way back, looking for any flowers, I smelled smoke in the usually clear, fresh air in the hills near my village. That struck me as unusual, but as an ignorant teenage girl, I passed it by, thinking someone must’ve been cooking dinner. It was almost 5:00 by that time. Besides, no one would miss me, not with my weird ability.

As I neared my home, I saw smoke in the sky– much more smoke than there should’ve been. I decided to run, my head filling with possibilities of unfortunate things– a house had caught on fire, the bonfire was starting without me, the village had been raided. The latter turned out to be correct. I could see the houses by the edge of the beautiful, calm and tranquil forest, but I also saw the flames rising into the air, burning and eating away at those small, comfy houses. The zinnias in my hand felt heavier as I began to run towards my home, wondering if my mother and my adopted siblings were alright. Suddenly, I noticed the darkly dressed men that were trying to capture or burn anyone attempting to escape. Realizing with a sense of panic the reason they were here, I tried not to scream as I ran towards, hoping no one would see me.

But it was just my luck that one of them would appear in front of me, choking me by the neck. “Now, child, where do you think you’re going?” asked the man, breathing in my face. I struggled against his grasp, but couldn’t do much but shift and twitch. Thinking it was the better thing to do, I said nothing. “You will answer me, little girl, or you will die.”

I cried out, hoping someone would hear me. “Mama! Luka! Andra!” The raider nervously looked back at the flaming village covered in ash and ember. No one answered me. Never had I felt so helpless as that. In the hour I leave, my mother and three siblings are lost in the fire… The man tightened his grip on my neck and I could barely breathe anymore. My throat felt restrained, limited, injured…

“Quiet. Now–” Out of nowhere I cried and kicked the man in the stomach, his blade driving into my hand on accident as I ran past him. Trying to ignore the surging pain in my palm, I sprinted as fast as I could, my breath hiccuping as I gasped for air. My head did feel a bit dizzy… was that from running with an open wound? Before I could find out, I collapsed.

There were beautiful trees above me. Dark green leaves growing from the branches, little patches of the sky in the foliage… Suddenly I sat up, remembering the fire, but someone’s hand stopped me. Feeling alarmed, I tried to wiggle away, but I couldn’t. I was lying in some sort of makeshift bed made of the softest material I had felt in a while. It was more cozy than hay beds my mother had prepared for me.

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I found you bleeding in the dirt last night and I tried to fix you up. You’ll be fine for now.” Confused, I slowly turned my head to see a girl, about two years my senior. She had shiny, silvery hair that flowed down to her waist. Around her forehead was a band weaved with blue and gray threads. Her eyes were a pretty mint green.

“I’m Luna,” continued the silver-haired girl. “What’s your name? You can trust me.” My throat still hurt from the man’s grip. I tried to force my name out, but the words wouldn’t come. I shook my head in defeat, about to cry.

“You can’t talk?” asked Luna, glancing at me pitifully. “That’s fine. You can write it out, if you know how.” She held out her palm, and it occurred to me that my hand had been cut. I looked at my left hand. It was bandaged. Only that made no sense. The curse… “I tried to wash it, but it seemed to heal itself,” Luna apologized. “Your hand… it filled the wound with crystals when I tried to run water over it. When I touched the crystals, they crumbled.”

My curse. I could only let myself drink liquid or it would crystallize. It had made me an object when I was little– people who wanted to adopt me to take my jewels and sell them. But when they touched the little rocks, they caved in and were destroyed. My real mother was accused of scamming. But it was my fault. All mine.

I glanced around at the hazel trees around me, and realized: I could start my life over. I could be a different person.

Silently, I began to write a new name on her palm. H. A. Z. E. L.

“Hazel? Are you alright?”

Reality floods back to me as I look over at my best friend, my rescuer, standing in the room beside me. How long had I been thinking for? Luna glances at me worriedly, but I nod my head to say, I’m fine. Yet as I do this, I think of everything. The scar. The curse. The fact I haven’t spoken in two years.

Nothing that caused them could ever happen again. It’s all in the past.

In the past, to be forgotten…

Well I just did that. I am sorry, again, for going over the limit… :P I tend to write too much or too little, one or the other. It’s my own fault for getting points taken off I guess XP


You’re good… I cant write good stories even as short as yours. My only decent work is 14 chapters so far, with another planned 8!