Writing Prompt

Billy’s mom walked into his room and saw all his toy’s laying around. “You know you are going to have to start picking out which ones you want to keep before we move don’t you?”. Billy nodded and began picking up toys to give away to needed kids in the neighborhood. His mom smiled at him and walked out of his room.

Billy hated his mom for making him get rid of any of his toys. He hated his mother...

_(Bro, it’s like these prompts know what I need. Here is when the cringe starts. I was really in a bad place last year—mum finding out about online boyfriend stuff—so I think I unconsciously made this story about me and him. I’m totally different now, and omg. It hurts!)_

**_Chapter 3_**

_Ballari returned to her room_ sweating and shaking, she leaned against the post of her bed as she lost h...

I was given that charm bracelet when I was five. I was told that with every year I grow, I would get a new charm to symbolize another year.

I guess it’s not the same when your parents die and you move in with your rich aunt.

She’s nice but always seems to be busy. To busy to notice your bracelet.

Then you meet the neighbor boy. At one point you are best friends, then dating, then engaged, then mar...

_“What is it, mom?” Adam nagged like a bee buzzing impatiently in front of his mother’s face. Christmas morning came quick that year, bringing flurries of snow along the coast of Goldmere island._

_The wrapped box fell into his small, bony hands, opening in less than a second. _

_A toy carousel, adorned in gold and velvet, horses, embellished with saddles of silk and bells. It spun wildly, like it...

I still have my first rattle, gifted to me by my father when I was one. The toy has seen better days, but you can still make out what it was back then: pink and purple with a display of wings and sunflowers throughout. When you shake it, you can still hear the rattling within. I try not to shake it too much just incase what’s inside runs out somehow. What more is needed of a rattle? Now displayed ...

Grif set the package down with more than a little strategy. He had chosen to label it “From Santa” to make it more enticing. And its placement under the tree, near the front but not in the front, was quite specific. He knew his son well enough to know he’d go for it first. Maybe second but that was a maybe.

When the morning rush came and little feet battered the stairs, Grif smiled into his coff...

“…you keep staring, you wanna know why I keep that old thing around?” Mr. Atwell didn’t raise with his voice but his eyes opened. Sitting across the towering desk from him was Evan.

He tore his guilty eyes away from the stuffed rabbit. He took a moment to answer, trying to form something diplomatic.

“If you’re willing to share with me, sir. Sure.”

“If you’re willing to share…” the words were ...

The party had reach a fever pitch. The windows winced on the bass’ off-beat and the carpet, once white and spotless, now looked spotted from the blobs of sherry and merlot.

At least it was decent stuff, Lance thought, taking up his own glass. Only some of it missed his mouth.

The lions share of the partygoers had collected around the fireplace in the den and were enjoying a good laugh tossing…...

Deon threw himself onto the mattress and nearly bounced off onto the floor. Considering that the bed itself was resting on the hardwood with no frame, it wouldn’t have been the worst outcome.

Still, his arms flailed wildly, pinwheeling for purchase. Once he was steady, he took hold of the nearest packed and not-shattered bong and hit it. As if summoned by the bubbling call, Jane entered the room...

“Mom! I’m out again, I need another roll!” Drake’s voice carried quite nicely from his doorway, down the hall, down the stairs to his mothers ear.

She sighed audibly, even from such a distance then replied, “Then come get some!”

Get had some extra spin on it so he knew she was annoyed. He half chuckled, let it be. He might be the one leaving for college, but she’s surely the one who was stress...