I swapped places with my twin when he got arrested.So now he is free. Whilst I am serving his life sentence for murdering our mother. Inside I’m frustrated. He’s the one who should be locked in.When I close my eyes I can see our mother.She was an angel. I miss her. He- my twin should be feeling the same. But- he escaped. A lucky escape! I took the brutal blame. The blame which turned around my life. I would be in University now.Where am I now? In a deserted Prison in space. He’s back on Earth enjoying life. I’m somewhere in the no where. Alone. Floating in Space.
Today we were given a randomly selected prompt each- which seven of us had written previously (I was away when the others wrote them, and Mo was away today, so that was sorted).
We then wrote a piece on said prompt(s). These will be uploaded shortly!
Anyway, these prompts may be helpful to your own writing! Some are odd, some are slightly morbid and I think someone had too much fun writing another.
Describe a ‘First’
The first time I went on a desert tour, deep in the sandy oceans of Oman, it was an experience that frightened me from head to toe, but also filled me with excitement, like a small child at the funfair.
Sitting in the 4X4, I thought it would be a boring drive over the natural yellow hills, but as soon as the Arab perched in the driver’s seat took off, it was like a roller coaster, but without the tracks. The car was turning unpredictably left, right, forwards, sideways, with my head banging against the roof every time the death trap went over a bump. However, no matter how much pain I gained, it was one of the most exciting events in my life.
The first thing you think of is bad,or evil, or you might have an image in your head of the tall bully in year 5 that used to steal your lunch.
A surge of anger will rise in your body making you want to grab the nearset book and experiment how many different ways you can smash it.
Your cheeks start boiling, turning more redder and angrier than a kettle at boiling point.Your body starts shaking like you’ve got a permenant twitch.Beads of sweat start racing down your face, struggling to reach your chin faster, and finally your eyes switch to black. It’s done. Your over the bridge.You feel pure hate.
So, you might think i’m crazy, promoting hate.But seriously, would you rather see people constantly being nice to each other? Where’s the entertainment?
World without hate is dull, boring and lifeless. Don’t you like the drama, hand-flicking, in your face, loud confrontations that have you gasping for hours?
Let’s face it …
HATE is LOVE.
War in most people’s opinion is a horrific event full of innocent, pure life being brutally murdered just for walking down the street. War is where money, taken from the countries’ tax payers who are just about surviving themselves, is being used for weapons to blow up buildings and create disruption. However, behind all these negative opinions, the beauty of war can be discovered. Wars can solve key situations, make alliances between countries and most importantly show the world the impacts of war and how new ways of solving foreign policy issues should be put into action. This is only the wider image, but even looking at the details of wars, beauty can still be found among the total devastation. In wars, people come together as one, to help each other, help the needy, help the injured and help the families that have lost loved ones or their homes. War destroys communities, however, war also brings communities together, uniting them as one, to stand their ground and get through the problems that Allah SWT has presented to them. For this reason wars may be seen as many to be horrific and terrible, but some may see the beauty within wars and find wars as the next step forward in life.
– The headless man
– The grave digger
– The convict
My dreams had come true. After six years I was finally out of prison. As I walked out, through the huge metal gates that could kill any man, woman or child by frying them with electricity, I looked around to see the late evening with all the roads empty and dark. In the far distance I could see a faulty street lamp, flickering on and off, lighting up an old sign. I squinted to read the sign which said ‘Cemetery’. I wasn’t in any rush to get home; I mean spending the last six years in prison, locked up behind bars was long, so another hour away from home wouldn’t make much of a difference. However, if I had known that the horrific event that happened that night were going to occur, I would have gone straight home without taking a detour through the local cemetery.
As I walked down the road, the whole village looked deserted. All the shops were boarded up with the shattered glass littering the filthy, dusty pavements. There was no sign of human life, until I turned around the corner and casually strolled into the cemetery. At first I thought my eyes were deceiving me, but after blinking a few times, I reassured myself that what I was seeing was really happening. In the gloomy corner, I could see a hooded man, digging into a grave with a huge pile of dirt covering the gravestone.
I stood, frozen in my shoes, observing for about a minute until I saw a second man emerge from the grave dressed in a decayed black suit. The screams from the grave digger were soon silenced as hundreds of different emotions passed through my body, when this headless figure dragged the grave digger into the black six foot hole. Afterwards, I saw the red blood splashing out from the grave, contrasting with the dark black night. The last thing I saw was a severed body being hurled out of the grave, and the headless man emerging once more from the grave with a new head placed accurately on his shoulders, the drying blood acting as a type of glue joining the existing body with its new head. He was no longer the headless man.