Writing Challenge Days 6 & 7
To all who are reading this,
Once more we have entered a blog post in which I am sharing with you two pieces of flash fiction. This is do to with the fact, that I am writing from a new laptop! Goodbye old Acer, you did me proud, and hello... New Acer! Very shiny, fast piece of technology, with Windows 8, which I am slowly getting used to.
So... Here are the stories!
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
JUNE PROMPTS YOU TO... WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 6. - VILLAIN
Yasmin adjusted her floral shirt. Her hair had been coifed to within an inch of its life. Her make-up was perfectly applied, and her clothes had been chosen by her boss at the television studio. Her camera man was even wearing a smarter checked shirt and plain black jeans - much more normal that his outlandish comic book t-shirts, and the tattered shirts he wore instead of a hooded sweatshirt. After all, it wasn't everyday that you spoke to esteemed television personalities at award ceremonies. This was Yasmin's first live broadcast, and she was terrified. She had reported from specific locations, but there had been plenty of takes. This was on the red carpet - hundreds of thousands of people were waiting in their living rooms from the safety of their homes, on tenterhooks and holding onto pieces of paper with their picks of the winners. "Yasmin, we're on. Five, four, three, two, one..." Balanced on his shoulder, Ben, the cameraman gestured with a free hand, and Yasmin held onto her microphone with shaking hands. "You join us exclusively on the red carpet. We are live at the Awardies, and the stars are flocking in their hundreds. Tonight, they are all competing to be the best in their categories, from Best Film, to Actor of the Year and beyond. Let's see if anyone is willing to talk." Yasmin turned on her heel, conscious that she might trip with the lumps in the carpet, but she was careful. She set a celebrity in her sights and leaned out to speak to him. "Hi, I'm Yasmin from Big and Bright TV Studios. I'm just wondering if we can have a quick word?" The celebrity turned on a bright smile, and nodded. Yasmin turned back to the camera and Ben, smiling to herself. She had all his films at home, and she wasn't going to admit it, but he had featured in wild and bizarre dreams. One of his photos was also stuck to her fridge in the kitchen, something her house mate would giggle at and threaten to draw on. "So... Vincent! Vincent Gallows! First of all congratulations on this year. You've turned from small town theatre actor, to A-Lister. And you are up for three awards tonight! Are you nervous?" Vincent adjusted the shirt of his collar and laughed under his breath. "Yes, I'm terrified! I've been to a few ceremonies since the start of the year, but this is something I've dreamt about since I was a small child! I'm so lucky to be here, amongst all these fabulous stars! And lovely presenters, such as yourself." Yasmin hoped she wouldn't blush. She had to get information from him, she wouldn't have long with him before he moved onto the next interview. "Your portrayal of the Norse wolf-man, Fenrir, has had teen girls and grown women alike glued to the screen. Did you ever imagine that you'd have this type of role?" "Not really. I'm being pin-upped as a bit of a heart throb, which is strange. Fenrir isn't a heart throb in the books by Raven Carr. He's much darker, an outsider. Cast off from his family, and those who would understand him, he's doomed to live amongst the mortals. I'm naturally not this type of person, so it was strange to get into the role. I spent a lot of time on my own, trying to find myself, and thus, Fenrir was born." "You're in the category for Best Actor, Best Villain, and the rest of your cast for Best Film. What do you think you're most likely to win?" "Personally, I'd love a clean sweep!" Vincent laughed, and turned serious. "In all honesty, probably villain. Being Fenrir is a new experience. He's back for both the second and final films of the series, so I just hope that I can live up to expectations." "Before you leave us, can you give us a taste of Fenrir, for those who might not be familiar with your work?" Yasmin prayed that he would say yes. She had been a fan of the books since they had first been released, and Fenrir had always been her favourite character. Vincent brought his right shoulder forwards, and leant in the same direction. His face turned into a disgusted grimace. His voice was gravelly as he spoke, sending shivers down Yasmin's spine. "I could have been somebody, but no. You cast me aside as if I am nothing more than dirt. But I am not dirt, and I'm going to prove it to you, if it's the last thing I do. You just watch - I am not my father!"
© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2014) JUNE PROMPTS YOU TO... WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 7. - SISTER
"Boys. Girls. I have never felt more privileged than standing before you all on this evening. To be awarded the National Youth Certificate is an honour. I know that if my sister were alive today, she would be bursting with pride. Since her death six months ago, I have seen your tireless efforts to stop those drinking publicly and erecting signs to stop those who are trying to drive, and encouraging others to joyride around the streets and estates. You have all been hit hard by her death at the hands of one such individual, and I have appreciated every single kind word, cards, flowers, and attendance at her funeral. Every single one of you are all valued members of this community, and you have proved constantly that teenagers are not just loud mouthed, binge drinkers. You all give your time to those who need it, and assist those who may not be able to help themselves. You have written articles that have been praised by councillors. You have visit politicians, circulated petitions and taken part in parades, and hundreds of charity events. The spirit of my sister lives on in all of you. She may have started the Youth Action Challenge, but she hasn't stopped it, has she? Thank you all for this special occasion. And now, I'm going to hand over the Lady Mayor. Congratulations, each and every one of you!" Valerie stepped away from the podium, the postcard in my hand. There had been tear stained patches on it as she had been writing it. She meant every word she had said to the Youth Action Challenge volunteers of the town, and when she spoke about her sister, Monique, she had had to hold back even more tears than she had thought possible. All those months ago at the funeral, she had not been able to say a single word. All she could do was cry, and mouth wordlessly. She had sat between her mother and father, and held onto their hands, hoping against hope that it was all just a bad dream. She was going to wake up in a moment, and she would be at home in her bed. She would wander to the next room, knock on the door, and her own sister would be sat up in bed, her hair pinned in a messy topknot, her thick pyjamas comfortable, and a battered paperback in her hands. She would look up, annoyed at being disturbed and say: "What you staring at, Val? Have I grown another head or something? Go away, I'm busy!" Sadly, it was not a dream. It was a horrible reality that was never ending. She didn't speak to her parents very often anymore, and she devoted her time to her sister's community work. She had grown to love the group as much as her sister had, and was always helping them with any work. She gave a sympathetic ear, and spoke to them about the hardships that they may be suffering with in their lives. Since her sisters death, she had done everything she could to keep going, but sometimes things would get on top of her. She would excuse herself, shut the door, and take her frustration out on the dartboard that hung. It used to be her sisters office, and at first she had felt like she was intruding. She had moved her paperwork around into boxes, emptied drawers and changed the inspirational posters to something more cheerful and stylish. The photo of the family however, she kept on the desk. Now, it was her domain. The organisation was much better - she could find things now. She had brought in cushions and blankets for a more homely touch, and it made the kids feel more at ease. She went around certain organisations and they donated technology, and entertainment facilities to help the kids be comfortable. They were able to study in peace and have friends, like her sister would have wanted her to. Valerie would make her sister proud. She knew that at this award ceremony, her sisters spirit would be with her. She would hold a champagne flute filled with Bucks Fizz. Her feet would be tapping in her sensible, yet fashionable brogues, and she would be dressed smart and chic. Her sister would gush over the latest music, films and books with the young people, and cajole her sister into having a wild dance with her. They would be the centre of attention, and be beloved by all. They were not only sisters, but they were the best friends. And not even death would stop that. © Copyright - Zoe Adams (2014) Currently reading: Eternity by Elizabeth Miles
Once more we have entered a blog post in which I am sharing with you two pieces of flash fiction. This is do to with the fact, that I am writing from a new laptop! Goodbye old Acer, you did me proud, and hello... New Acer! Very shiny, fast piece of technology, with Windows 8, which I am slowly getting used to.
So... Here are the stories!
Yours, with eternal ink,
Zoe
---
JUNE PROMPTS YOU TO... WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 6. - VILLAIN
Yasmin adjusted her floral shirt. Her hair had been coifed to within an inch of its life. Her make-up was perfectly applied, and her clothes had been chosen by her boss at the television studio. Her camera man was even wearing a smarter checked shirt and plain black jeans - much more normal that his outlandish comic book t-shirts, and the tattered shirts he wore instead of a hooded sweatshirt. After all, it wasn't everyday that you spoke to esteemed television personalities at award ceremonies. This was Yasmin's first live broadcast, and she was terrified. She had reported from specific locations, but there had been plenty of takes. This was on the red carpet - hundreds of thousands of people were waiting in their living rooms from the safety of their homes, on tenterhooks and holding onto pieces of paper with their picks of the winners. "Yasmin, we're on. Five, four, three, two, one..." Balanced on his shoulder, Ben, the cameraman gestured with a free hand, and Yasmin held onto her microphone with shaking hands. "You join us exclusively on the red carpet. We are live at the Awardies, and the stars are flocking in their hundreds. Tonight, they are all competing to be the best in their categories, from Best Film, to Actor of the Year and beyond. Let's see if anyone is willing to talk." Yasmin turned on her heel, conscious that she might trip with the lumps in the carpet, but she was careful. She set a celebrity in her sights and leaned out to speak to him. "Hi, I'm Yasmin from Big and Bright TV Studios. I'm just wondering if we can have a quick word?" The celebrity turned on a bright smile, and nodded. Yasmin turned back to the camera and Ben, smiling to herself. She had all his films at home, and she wasn't going to admit it, but he had featured in wild and bizarre dreams. One of his photos was also stuck to her fridge in the kitchen, something her house mate would giggle at and threaten to draw on. "So... Vincent! Vincent Gallows! First of all congratulations on this year. You've turned from small town theatre actor, to A-Lister. And you are up for three awards tonight! Are you nervous?" Vincent adjusted the shirt of his collar and laughed under his breath. "Yes, I'm terrified! I've been to a few ceremonies since the start of the year, but this is something I've dreamt about since I was a small child! I'm so lucky to be here, amongst all these fabulous stars! And lovely presenters, such as yourself." Yasmin hoped she wouldn't blush. She had to get information from him, she wouldn't have long with him before he moved onto the next interview. "Your portrayal of the Norse wolf-man, Fenrir, has had teen girls and grown women alike glued to the screen. Did you ever imagine that you'd have this type of role?" "Not really. I'm being pin-upped as a bit of a heart throb, which is strange. Fenrir isn't a heart throb in the books by Raven Carr. He's much darker, an outsider. Cast off from his family, and those who would understand him, he's doomed to live amongst the mortals. I'm naturally not this type of person, so it was strange to get into the role. I spent a lot of time on my own, trying to find myself, and thus, Fenrir was born." "You're in the category for Best Actor, Best Villain, and the rest of your cast for Best Film. What do you think you're most likely to win?" "Personally, I'd love a clean sweep!" Vincent laughed, and turned serious. "In all honesty, probably villain. Being Fenrir is a new experience. He's back for both the second and final films of the series, so I just hope that I can live up to expectations." "Before you leave us, can you give us a taste of Fenrir, for those who might not be familiar with your work?" Yasmin prayed that he would say yes. She had been a fan of the books since they had first been released, and Fenrir had always been her favourite character. Vincent brought his right shoulder forwards, and leant in the same direction. His face turned into a disgusted grimace. His voice was gravelly as he spoke, sending shivers down Yasmin's spine. "I could have been somebody, but no. You cast me aside as if I am nothing more than dirt. But I am not dirt, and I'm going to prove it to you, if it's the last thing I do. You just watch - I am not my father!"
© Copyright - Zoe Adams (2014) JUNE PROMPTS YOU TO... WRITING CHALLENGEDAY 7. - SISTER
"Boys. Girls. I have never felt more privileged than standing before you all on this evening. To be awarded the National Youth Certificate is an honour. I know that if my sister were alive today, she would be bursting with pride. Since her death six months ago, I have seen your tireless efforts to stop those drinking publicly and erecting signs to stop those who are trying to drive, and encouraging others to joyride around the streets and estates. You have all been hit hard by her death at the hands of one such individual, and I have appreciated every single kind word, cards, flowers, and attendance at her funeral. Every single one of you are all valued members of this community, and you have proved constantly that teenagers are not just loud mouthed, binge drinkers. You all give your time to those who need it, and assist those who may not be able to help themselves. You have written articles that have been praised by councillors. You have visit politicians, circulated petitions and taken part in parades, and hundreds of charity events. The spirit of my sister lives on in all of you. She may have started the Youth Action Challenge, but she hasn't stopped it, has she? Thank you all for this special occasion. And now, I'm going to hand over the Lady Mayor. Congratulations, each and every one of you!" Valerie stepped away from the podium, the postcard in my hand. There had been tear stained patches on it as she had been writing it. She meant every word she had said to the Youth Action Challenge volunteers of the town, and when she spoke about her sister, Monique, she had had to hold back even more tears than she had thought possible. All those months ago at the funeral, she had not been able to say a single word. All she could do was cry, and mouth wordlessly. She had sat between her mother and father, and held onto their hands, hoping against hope that it was all just a bad dream. She was going to wake up in a moment, and she would be at home in her bed. She would wander to the next room, knock on the door, and her own sister would be sat up in bed, her hair pinned in a messy topknot, her thick pyjamas comfortable, and a battered paperback in her hands. She would look up, annoyed at being disturbed and say: "What you staring at, Val? Have I grown another head or something? Go away, I'm busy!" Sadly, it was not a dream. It was a horrible reality that was never ending. She didn't speak to her parents very often anymore, and she devoted her time to her sister's community work. She had grown to love the group as much as her sister had, and was always helping them with any work. She gave a sympathetic ear, and spoke to them about the hardships that they may be suffering with in their lives. Since her sisters death, she had done everything she could to keep going, but sometimes things would get on top of her. She would excuse herself, shut the door, and take her frustration out on the dartboard that hung. It used to be her sisters office, and at first she had felt like she was intruding. She had moved her paperwork around into boxes, emptied drawers and changed the inspirational posters to something more cheerful and stylish. The photo of the family however, she kept on the desk. Now, it was her domain. The organisation was much better - she could find things now. She had brought in cushions and blankets for a more homely touch, and it made the kids feel more at ease. She went around certain organisations and they donated technology, and entertainment facilities to help the kids be comfortable. They were able to study in peace and have friends, like her sister would have wanted her to. Valerie would make her sister proud. She knew that at this award ceremony, her sisters spirit would be with her. She would hold a champagne flute filled with Bucks Fizz. Her feet would be tapping in her sensible, yet fashionable brogues, and she would be dressed smart and chic. Her sister would gush over the latest music, films and books with the young people, and cajole her sister into having a wild dance with her. They would be the centre of attention, and be beloved by all. They were not only sisters, but they were the best friends. And not even death would stop that. © Copyright - Zoe Adams (2014) Currently reading: Eternity by Elizabeth Miles
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