STORY STARTER
Write a passage in the perspective of the most evil fictional character in your opinion.
Is this character motivated by something, or simply being evil for the ske of it? Make sure to articulate their aim well in their perspective.
A Promise
.” Don’t you dare leave me, or I’ll hate you forever ..” I said, but my voice cracked before I could even finish the sentence. My throat felt tight, like something invisible had its hands around it, squeezing . The words tumbled out of my mouth too fast ,too shaky, soaked in fear. I was already crying before I reached him, fat tears were rolling down my cheeks , slipping past my lips and leaving a bitter taste behind. My bare feet slapped the concrete as I ran, the soles dirty from the porch, and I launched myself into his arms like he was my last breath of air and I was drowning.
My hands clutched at the stiff, scratchy fabric of his uniform, my fingers curling around it like I could rip the goodbye out of it. My cheeks pressed against the rough canvas of his shoulder, and I sobbed so hard my whole body ached. My body felt small again- helpless, like I was five instead of thirteen- and my knees buckled beneath me., but he held me up without saying a word. Just wrapped his arms around me and let me break
“ why must you leave me?..” I chocked, voice muffled against him. “ I’ll do better, Mikey, I swear —I’ll help mama cook, I’ll fold the laundry,stop sneakin’ snacks at night—I won’t even talk back no more..”
Snot dripped from my nose now, thick and sticky, trailing down and smearing across his chest, soaking into the name patch on his uniform . He didn’t push me away, though. Didn’t flinch or even wipe at it. Just sank down to his knees , slow and careful like he knew I needed him at my level. The gravel from the driveway crunched under him, his knees pressing into the dirt, he leaned his head just a little so he could look at me.
His face was calm, but I knew my brother to well, his eyes weren’t calm. They were soft in that way they only ever got when he was trying not to cry in front of me.
“ please..” I whispered, barley able to get a word out. My hand fisted tighter into his jacket, nails scrapping against the patches and seams . “ don’t go. Please, Mikey..”