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Competitions!! > COMPETITION #1 [End date Sunday Jan 19th]

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message 1: by [deleted user] (last edited Jan 07, 2020 06:50PM) (new)

Starts on Jan 9th.
This is the first competition for Adventure in Writing! You get to pick a story in your life [hilarious or serious] and turn it into a short story of whatever genre [fantasy, mystery, YA, romance, etc.]
As long as you keep parts of your real experience, everything counts. May be as long or as short as you like. End date Jan 19th [a Sunday]

This is different than the discussion "LIFE STORIES"

message 2: by [deleted user] (new)

Post your story HERE!

message 3: by Penny, co-moderator;) (last edited Jan 08, 2020 06:01PM) (new)

Penny | 44 comments Mod
Okay, here we go again. So I posted this story in March of last year on the KOTLC group, so if you have seen it already, my apologies! But this is one of my favorite writings about my life(even though it is most definitely not relevant anymore ahaha), so I decided I'd bring it back here;)

Also, the intro is a verse from Camila Cabello's Consequences, so it is not my own!:)

“Loving you was young, and wild, and free
Loving you was cool, and hot, and sweet
Loving you was sunshine, safe and sound
A steady place to let down my defenses
But loving you had consequences”

In the backseat of the car that cool, cloudless night, these words struck me before I even knew it. It drew all my thoughts to him. Despite my reluctance to have him occupy my mind yet again, I couldn’t help but focus on those lyrics, allowing the words to not merely pass through my ears, but to sink through my skin into my body, till the music flowed throughout my veins. I didn’t listen to them, but truly heard them. Behind closed eyes, resurfaced memories swam around, summoned by those lyrics. My mind replayed all the times he had made me feel young, and wild and free……described perfectly, the feeling was truly like sunshine: joyful and happy and bright……I soon found myself losing my way down memory lane:
The distinct sound of drums beating to a brisk tempo projected from the small, pink radio. I saw him whip his head in my direction, black curls bouncing, and grin at me expectantly. The sun rays danced across his face, turning his already lovely skin a soft, golden color, and his normally dark eyes became light and smooth as caramel. In those caramel eyes shone a certain sparkle of glee. Unwillingly, I felt myself smile that radiant smile, and I knew that only he could make that smile appear. Knowing that his beautiful grin was meant for ME caused an indescribable joy, and released an army of butterflies in my stomach.
As I was gazing moodily up at the stars above me, his face came unbidden into my frame of view. He leaned over the side of the truck bed, peering down at me lying there. I heard the sound of his voice, thanking me once again for my gift that I had thought to be so pathetic, and asking me if I wanted to join them at the park. When I declined, he persisted still, his voice taking on an almost pleading tone, insisting that I didn’t need to participate in their raucous activities, but I should still come along. I gazed into his eyes and found myself utterly unable to resist smiling even through my upset demeanor. Breaking through the cloud of gloom I had created for myself was a joyous thought: he wanted me there. Not even to join in their games, but simply to be there. He not only saw the misery that hid beneath my smiling mask—the mask that had fooled everyone else, including those who I had thought to be my closest friends—but he had the heart to remove that mask, and exchange my bitterness for bliss. And maybe I was overthinking things, but I knew one thing: he succeeded. Before I even knew what I was doing, I had climbed out of the truck bed and was following him to the park. Despite my unwillingness to join the rambunctious group, I went. For him.
With each word I read, my heart swelled greater and greater. I let out a half-sob, half-laugh as I marveled at the fact that HE wrote these words. They exposed the raw truth of the struggles he endured as a Christian, the struggle of being blinded by the pain of trials. But with those struggles he also revealed his genuine emotions and thoughts, and I caught a glimpse of the person I knew hid beneath the surface, the one I often long to see. He showed that he knows that the Lord is his shelter, even in times when he feels like falling apart. He describes the misery of his trials, but then turns once more to the grace of God, and God’s protection from his enemies. In the end, he places his trust in the Lord’s sovereign will, rather than trusting his own judgement. Here was a young man, using his talents to cry out to his Lord in song, admitting his desperate need for a Savior. To see that level of spiritual maturity touched me in a way that made me want to cry and explode with joy at the same time. But above all else, it made me yearn to love him and give him every single ounce of love I could possibly offer. It stirred in me an urge to do nothing more than glorify God right there him. It made me feel an undeniable pride for the man of God he has become. I cannot fully explain, but the truth of it is that I was inordinately proud of the person who wrote the words that lay before me.

message 4: by Penny, co-moderator;) (last edited Jan 08, 2020 06:02PM) (new)

Penny | 44 comments Mod

I closed my eyes, lost in the memories. But it wouldn’t last. I was drawn back to the present as I realized the song was not yet over. I shut my eyes again in a futile attempt to hold back the tears I knew would come at the sound of the next lyrics:
“Loving you was dumb, dark and cheap
Loving you will still take shots at me
Found loving you was sunshine, but then it poured
And I lost so much more than my senses
'Cause loving you had consequences”

Coming as swift as I knew they would, the stubborn tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes, sliding down the sides of my face uncontrollably. I was pulled back down into another flurry of memories, but these were more recent, and much, much more painful.
My heart stopped. I watched across the park with shock and utter dismay as he walked up to her and they began to have a deep, significant conversation. I stared at his face, seeing the way he gazed at her. I felt something crumble somewhat inside. I had known for awhile how much she liked him—that much was obvious—but....I never knew that he returned the feeling. I stood up ramrod straight from where I was sitting with my best friend, Jane, and muttered some lame excuse to escape from the area. And I ran. I knew it was cruel of me to take advantage of the fact that Jane was on crutches at the time and could do nothing to follow me, so I shouted out that I'd be back as soon as possible. I faltered slightly as I ran, tears beginning to blur my vision. But I let nothing stop me, running till my lungs began to burn and I was gasping for breath. I stumbled to the empty cabin and once inside leaned back against the wall for support. I shut my eyes as the tears fell, but this didn't help at all since the image of the two of them together seemed to be branded in my mind. I always told myself that there would be another girl who would come along and steal his heart before I had the chance, but now that it was happening…and why did it have to be Charlee, who was becoming one of my closest friends? Why couldn’t it have been some random, nameless girl who I’d never heard of? I pulled my knees up to my chest and buried my face into my arms. There I lay, curled up on the floor of the dark cabin, retreating from the world.
Here I was letting myself be blinded by my love for this boy, I didn't let myself see the utter hopelessness of it all, the utter stupidity and pointlessness. By finally "allowing" myself to let go and love him, I was really just not wanting to recognize the fact that it is IMPOSSIBLE. I was purposefully blinding myself, because I was tired of the hopeless feeling; I wanted something happier. But in this situation, the happiest it's going to get is if I let go of him entirely so that I can finally move on with my life. But that’s the problem!! I refuse to let go of him! I want to keep loving him, even if it traps me in this perpetual hopeless state. But in reality, I must see some shred of hope, a sliver of a chance, that propels me to hold on this tight. If it were completely, ENTIRELY hopeless, surely I would see it. Surely I wouldn't do something as foolish as knowingly put myself in this much pain. There must be like a 0.00000002% chance of a life, a friendship with this boy. And because I can see it, that is why I hold on to him so tight, why I refuse to let go. Or maybe, I just love him that much. So much that even with the knowledge that we stand no chance whatsoever, I can't help but love him still.
I laughed at Charlee’s words, which had only confirmed my fears. Well, "laugh" is going a little far. I scoffed, a harsh sound of pure disbelief. I knew it. Despite my greatest efforts, all my prayers, attempts, worries, fretting, lost sleep.....they were all for naught. I knew they would be. “Maybe.” I had held on to that word for dear life. I told myself, I tried to convince myself that maybe, maybe if I tried hard enough, maybe if I kept going, maybe if I didn’t give up, maybe he might……but no. The plain, miserable truth of it is that I could do everything in my power for his benefit, I could give him the world, I could give him MY world and still he would be blinded to it. But still I couldn’t tear myself and my thoughts away from him, his goodness, his kindness, humor, smarts, voice, everything. Why?!? Why can't he see? I would be ready and willing to give this guy my all, and yet he settles for someone else who doesn’t see him the way I do. Every biting remark she says about him, every time she rolls his eyes when he turns away, it makes me want to cry. It unleashes this fire inside of me. Not one of anger at either person, but anger at their blindness. Why can he not see how much I love him? And what exactly does he see in her that makes him long for her so?? And why, oh why, can she not even see him for all that he truly is???

Those other memories, the ones full of laughter and delight and love, I know that I will treasure those joyful times forever; no heartache could ever erase them. Nevertheless, I also know that the torment he caused me, neither will that ever truly be erased. But it won’t always hurt.

These wounds will eventually fade to scars, and the pain will become a memory. I replayed those joyous moments in my mind once more, then tucked them away, deep in the crevice of my heart. I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and turned to the heartache. Rather than suppressing it as I had done for so long, I felt it. I let the pain run its course through my mind and my body. The tears fell in fat drops, faster than ever, but it was good to let it all out. For the first time, I truly acknowledged that I was in agony. I acknowledged my anguish. I was wounded. But I was not broken. I had allowed him to heal my injured spirit, not knowing it needed healing till he came. But in so doing I let him close enough to break my heart. I thought that he was slowly chipping away at my heart, till it was merely a pile of fragments and shards. I didn't believe that that would ever change; I'd be destroyed forever. But I’m not, because I have the Lord my God on my side! He will not allow me to remain this broken wreck for the rest of my life, because He is the Healer of all. All these experiences, all trials, will not break me down like I thought they would. Instead, they force me to turn to my Savior in need of strength, and His strength can shine through my own weakness. Yes, I am hurting, but I am not broken. The Lord is not finished with me just yet.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: (view spoiler)

message 5: by Penny, co-moderator;) (new)

Penny | 44 comments Mod
All right it's well past 2am here, I need to sleep😴😴😴 I hope you guys enjoyed all that!!(again, SO sorry it's so long, I may try and shorten it tomorrow). Please let me know what you think, and any constructive criticism is readily welcome! :)

message 6: by Faith (new)

Faith (victorianprincess) | 33 comments ohhhh, my goodness Penny...❤❤❤
I don't know what to say except that- wow. All that reminds me of my diary. I have written so much like that! Penny, it was lovely, perfectly beautiful and balanced between happy and sad. So bittersweet... I read it all in one setting because it captivated me. Are you by any chance writing a novel? because, if you are not, you NEED to write one!! (And I need to read it ☺️)

message 7: by Penny, co-moderator;) (new)

Penny | 44 comments Mod
Ahhh thank you Faith!! Oooh, if you had writing similar to this, I'd love to read it, if you are comfortable sharing of course;) And sadly, no, I am not writing a novel. I would LOVE to, but I haven't actually gotten around to starting it😅 I started one years and year ago that I kind of want to finish.....but I don't know if I like the plot all that much anymore😂

message 8: by [deleted user] (new)

Thank you SHINE and Penny for posting your stories for the competition! When everyone posts and the deadline is over, I will send out a poll and everyone will vote for their "favorite". I can't wait to post the guys are such great writers!

message 9: by Lana (new)

Lana (ohmylily) I've always thought differently.
This is the part where you scoff because it sounds like I'm bragging about being "unique".
But it's a different kind of different.
The kind that makes you not fit in with you friends.
The kind that even separates you from your family.
The kind where you hear your parents talking in hushed voices in the next room: "...not like us."
"...different thought pattern?"
"...doesn't understand!!"
"..late bloomer..."
"..behind? What are we going to do..."

The thing is, I've been different since before I can even remember. Even wondering if I was adopted.
And for someone who obsesses with fitting in, and being just like my siblings, well, you know that's not going to end well.

Let me start from the beginning.
When I was just a baby, I was an ANGEL. Sitting up there in my highchair, and staring at everything wide-eyed, observing and soaking it alllll in. That's basically all I did.
The minute I could somewhat toddle on my own, I turned into a monster.
I would scream and yell and throw those little plastic kid stools over my head with surprising strength.
I would come up behind my sister and give her hair a hard yank, twisting it in my little fist and watching gleefully as she yelped in pain.
Yep, you can say it :)
I was a psycho, a monster.
As I got older, it only got worse..
Only now, I was throwing rocks and chairs with accuracy (Yikes!)
Punching and kicking and lying and gleeful violence.
I can practically see the look on your face: horrified.
I'm glad to say those habits slowed down at the age of 10. I remember sobbing years later, and saying that if I had to deal with myself back then, I would've given up. I never even knew what caused me to be so... violent, and revenge-driven.
I know there was good parts to myself back then. but the bad parts swelled over my past, making it the hardest thing to get over.
For many years, I wanted to be exactly like my siblings, but I literally couldn't comprehend the way they thought and acted. They had SO many things in common, even with my parents.
One day I ventured to point this out and the response I got was not deniance. It was more along the lines of, "Well...yeah."
From that point on, they didn't bother to talk in hushed voices anymore --- it just became a fact in the household that I was different.
You're probably wondering now, "But HOW are you different??"
Here's the best I can explain:
When my parents would ask me "Why did you do that?"
I would explain, the logic making clear sense to me, and getting increasingly frustrated that nobody understood:
They just. Didn't. Get it.
I know this happens to other people --- but not ALL THE TIME.
Growing older still, I would pretend to get things I really didn't, afraid to ask why, or seem dumb compared to my smart homeschooled siblings.
It's almost like I spoke a different language, because the differences from my family went from way of learning to general conversation to explanations.
Beaten down from feeling different, that quickly turned into feeling unloved.
I started doing crazy things like lie to my online friends, videocall people in other countries and generally do wild stuff that wasn't safe.
Those mistakes are REALLY hard to admit, especially to you guys..
since it's way easier being "Bubbly, cheerful Lana! <3 ^-^".
But I'm starting to get to know you guys better, and for some reason I feel like I owe you the truth.
Maybe because I feel like if you knew the real me, you wouldn't like me anymore.
Maybe I'm practically daring you to ditch me now.
Maybe this mask I put on is wearing down, maybe this story is so depressing you are skim reading! (I am guilty of that :O)
I am constantly searching for answers on why, and now that I've started, I might as well finish.
The more terrible stuff I did, the more I felt unloved, the more I got in trouble.
I was practically punishing myself.
I sunk lower and lower into a depression I didn't even realize I had, all my friends said THEY had depression and described it in dramatic detail.
I started to imagine life without me in my family, everything was more peaceful, less work.
What if I just... died in my sleep? Painless, and everyone would free from me, and I wouldn't even have to try anymore. I could stop constantly running from my mistakes,
Plot twist!!
We adopted 2 boys.
It took us forever to get through the process, and finally after training and several months, we had them at our house for a fostering period. I am going to skip over this part now, but I WILL tell you this: The things they did were awful, beyond imagining. We persevered, knowing that they would have problems, but was pushed to a breaking point at 11 months. Finally it got so bad there was nothing we could do, exhausted and scarred for life. This sounds dramatic, but you have to understand it's also true.
No words qualify what we were put through, I am thankful to God that nothing worse happened though.
I got a hard slap across the face of reality, starting to see the world the way it really was, things I never even thought about.
But here's the thing: during this time, I grew closer to my family then I ever have and will.
I would go through that living hell all over again in an instant, because though it scarred my life, it also SAVED my life.
I've had triggers and little panic attacks and probably will for the rest of my life, but I am learning how to get past that.
And come Spring 2020, it will hit the one year anniversary of the day they were taken away from my home, away from my family, and we were safe.
2020 for me, is basically the start of a new life.
I am pleased to say we are moving away from this house, where memories burned into my mind will be gone, and we move in to that new house Feb 14!!
I love this house, and I'm going to paint my walls pastel yellow like the sun, and have a windowseat for reading on!!
Okay, off topic, :3 heheh.
Do you see it? The bad WAS the blessing, because I am over my depression and sooo close to my family then ever.
I have new motivation, new drive and spark to use my life to help others feel loved and appreciated.
Please bear with my while I am still learning.
It hasn't even been a year yet, but I am working harder and harder to be a better person every day.
I am so thankful I have you guys in my life, whether we think the same or not.
The way I look at things is different, but wouldn't it be interesting to see things from a different side?
I have a passion now I will never let go of, my new language. Music. And I want to use that to help others, to inspire and surround with love.
I am thrilled for 2020, I feel like this is the start of a new life.
Everyone is unique in their own way, and those differences should be celebrated!

message 10: by [deleted user] (last edited Jan 10, 2020 05:15PM) (new)

Lana wrote: "I've always thought differently.
This is the part where you scoff because it sounds like I'm bragging about being "unique".
But it's a different kind of different.
The kind that makes you not fit i..."

Lana, WOW, just wow. [Of course, in a admiring way] I LOVE your story for the competition! God bless

message 11: by Macey (new)

Macey (fairlieforever) Lana wrote: "I've always thought differently.
This is the part where you scoff because it sounds like I'm bragging about being "unique".
But it's a different kind of different.
The kind that makes you not fit i..."

That is absolutely crazily inspiring. I can't believe you lived through that, Lana. So happy for you to get a new house!

message 12: by Faith (new)

Faith (victorianprincess) | 33 comments @Lana
Oh, dear Lana, I am so glad you got through all that. depression is well, very depressing. I have had it, and it was very hard, but Jesus and my family helped me through.
Praise God that you are doing better. I will continue to pray for you. May you be richly blessed in your new home, and may you realize more and more the great love, the sacrificial love, that God had in sending His Son to die for YOU. To save YOU, and wrap you up in His loving arms.
May Jesus fill you with His perfect peace, and give you over abounding joy in this beautiful new year!!!

message 13: by Maddie (new)

Maddie (mysteria02) | 1 comments That was amazing, Lana. I am so happy you and your family are close again. Family is everything to me and I am so happy to hear that you and your family were able to be close again. Thank you for sharing your story. I can't imagine how hard that was and it was a very touching and inspiring story. God has really worked in your life. It is truly amazing to see how he has in your life. I always saw you as sweet bubbly bright Lana but now that has changed. In a good way. Now I see you as a strong and confident believer who has been through the unbelievable. I am happy to have been able to hear your story and know more about you. It has opened my eyes even more to the fact that life is not always easy for people. To be more aware of that for me. Best wishes and prayers to you and your family.

message 14: by Mayflower (new)

Mayflower (legendfangirl) I close my book in wonder. What would it be like to fall in love? Love, it's a funny word. Sometimes, its thrown around carelessly, and sometimes its not used enough.
The chapel bell rings out with its low, almost mournful tone. I personally think it's rather unfitting for the night i'm about to have. The whole camp starts to walk out of their cabins and toward the chapel. My friend Maxine comes up to me and reminds me that today is Chiefs night, like i could forget. We all line up and slowly walk through the forest, the only sound is the leaves crunching under the feat of 100+ campers. Once we get to the chapel, we take our seats in our tribe appropriate pews, and look towards the podium. The chapel is a truly beautiful place, it was made when the camp was first created, with the slanted roof starting at the top of the cross and fourfold, and then going all the way down to the ground at the back of the chapel, leaving the sides and front of it open. If you look past the podium and cross, you can see the water of Rainbow lake that surrounds our island. I know im supost to be listening to our camp leader, but i can't help staring at the way that the orange sky reflects off of the water.
Finally, the speeches start. The chiefs, (two for each of the four tribes) line up in front of the podium. Each tribe was assigned an aspect of the fourfold. The entire Brigade revolves around it. “My own self, at my very best, all the time” in the aspects of physical, mental, social, and riligouse. The Blackfeet were assigned to wright a speech about the physical aspect, Manominee were mental, Onida were social, and finally, Winabego were riligouse. I listened to the inspiring stories of all of the chiefs, some were stories of overcoming depression, some were stories about improving self esteem, and some were purely entertaining. But the last two really stuck with me. They were the stories of religion, from Winibago. My family has never really been that religious, and these speeches let me see religion in a whole new way. We ended chapel with the entire camp taking hands and singing the camp song and God Bless America.
With the last rays of sunset shining through the ceiling beams of our outdoor chapel, I looked around and realized two very important things. First, that religion isn’t how often you go to Church, or how you warship, it's what you believe, and I believe in the love that's in the world. The second thing, is that before I didn't understand love. Its not saved for just one special person, its for your friends, your community, and for your world. Love is these girls singing in a chapel, together, and it gives me hope that one day, we all will. Love also doesn’t have to be for a person. It can be for something simple, like how we were all singing with love, our love of life. Love is Love. This is love.

“With so many new friends and a love that never ends, together we work, together we play, together we grow at Onaway”
-Up to Onaway Island, Brigade

message 15: by [deleted user] (new)

Mayflower wrote: "I close my book in wonder. What would it be like to fall in love? Love, it's a funny word. Sometimes, its thrown around carelessly, and sometimes its not used enough.
The chapel bell rings out wit..."

Thank you Mayflower for submitting your life short story!!! If I'm correct, the people who have entered so far are Lana, Penny, Shine, and Mayflower, right?? XD

message 16: by Penny, co-moderator;) (new)

Penny | 44 comments Mod
Lana wrote: "I've always thought differently.
This is the part where you scoff because it sounds like I'm bragging about being "unique".
But it's a different kind of different.
The kind that makes you not fit i..."

Lana. . . . .I read this immediately after you posted, but it hit me so hard and so close to home, I needed to gather my thoughts, to read and reread and read again before sending out a reply. First off, I want to thank you for posting this. I really can't tell you how much this encouraged me; so many different parts of it rang true with me. . . . . . ."Beaten down from feeling different, that quickly turned into feeling unloved". . . . . ."Maybe because I feel like if you knew the real me, you wouldn't like me anymore. Maybe I'm practically daring you to ditch me now". . . . . ."I was practically punishing myself". . ."I started to imagine life without me in my family, everything was more peaceful, less work. What if I just... died in my sleep? Painless, and everyone would free from me, and I wouldn't even have to try anymore. I could stop constantly running from my mistakes." As I read these words, it felt like a golf ball had gotten stuck in my throat, my eyes were full to the brim with tears that refused to spill over, I was shaking, trembling, heart pounding, lungs burning. Feelings and thoughts that I had had countless times, now put into words and expressed by someone who is not me. And not only this, but the ending! The Lord was able to use your trials as a BLESSING!! It made me think of the song by Laura Story: "'what if Your blessings come through raindrops? What if Your healing comes through tears?. . .What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise?"

Lana, your story was greatly encouraging to a fellow sister in Christ who is going through very similar thoughts, and hasn't quite yet reached the point of "I'm okay now," but I know because of James 1:2-4, and Romans 5:3-5, and YOUR story Lana, that the Lord is sovereign, and He may be putting me through this trial to later show His mercy and sovereignty! THANK YOU so much for sharing this!!

message 17: by Faith (new)

Faith (victorianprincess) | 33 comments Amen, Penny. Amen.

message 18: by Angeline (new)

Angeline | 3 comments "I found myself sitting alone yet again.I was trying to figure out where I would sit on the bus. It was the smallest of things, it was really no big deal. But to me, it was a huge problem.
Where do you go when you feel as if no one notices you? Why is trying to find someone to sit with on the bus so hard? As I pondered these things I started to cry, I cried because I felt alone, I cried because I just didn’t want to go. But it is amazing how when you feel as if the world is ending on a small scale, someone is sent to help you find your way.
A light shined on me, and I was so grateful. A friend reached out their hand to help me, and that helped make a hard situation so much better. I had found a seat on the bus, I had found someone to sit next too. But I have also learned good lessons. I am more blessed than I think. I had at least one friend who looked out for me and cared for me. And that was enough. And this was a life lesson that I would remember for the rest of my life..."
“Sounds like you have good friends.” She turned around and looked behind her. She had forgotten in her reminiscing that she was telling this story to him.
He laughed at her face. “You forgot that I was here, didn’t you?”
She smiled in return, “Well.. it has been a long night. But I needed this memory, as I remember back to when someone had reached out a hand to me. I am reminded of why we are fighting this battle. I needed to remember that there was still good in the world and that there was a reason I was fighting, a reason I am still fighting. I was fighting this battle, because even if there was just one good person, even if there was only one person who would do this with me… It will be worth it, it is worth it.”

message 19: by [deleted user] (new)

Angeline wrote: ""I found myself sitting alone yet again.I was trying to figure out where I would sit on the bus. It was the smallest of things, it was really no big deal. But to me, it was a huge problem.
Where ..."

Thank you for submitting your entry Angeline!!!! ;]

message 20: by Laura-Lee (new)

Laura-Lee Rahn (lauraleewashere) | 31 comments I haven't had a chance to read everyone's stories yet, because I wanted to make sure mine was finished on time. But they look great and I'm really looking forward to it.
Write on!

Life Story Contest #1


I was attending a small Christian high school and this was the last year, grade 10, that the boys and girls would be taking Physical Education together. And since the people in my grade 10 class were the same people I had started grade 8 with, we were all very close. More like a family than merely friends.

It was a drizzly, Monday morning and we had already run the mile that started every Phys Ed class and were just being assigned to teams for a good game of soccer, with our teacher making sure there was an equal amount of boys and girls on each team. My best friend, Kim and I had been assigned the two defense positions directly in front of our goal. This was fine with me. I could never run very fast, but I could be very determined when I needed to be. I eyed the three boys on the opposing team and gave them an intense and somewhat sinister glare. My expression speaking louder than any words could. They noticed my expression and one responded with, “Uh oh. Laura-Lee’s in one of her moods. I think we are in for a bit of fun.” Obviously my intention to intimidate not working too well.

I looked over at Kim to see a very different look on her face. More of a “I-would-rather-be-poking-myself-with-a-sharp-stick-than-be-here” type of expression. Kim was not overly fond of soccer and was feeling the pressure and responsibility of her defense position. She must NOT let the soccer ball get into our goal, no matter the cost. It was obvious that even a bit of panic was starting to work it’s way to Kim’s surface.

There was very little need for any of her emotions (or mine for that matter) because as the game progressed it was obvious Kim and I were going to see very little action. The people playing forward on our team were doing such a good job of keeping the ball at the other end of the field, that Kim and I finally relaxed and just stood around as we chatted about our weekends.

But eventually the ball started working it’s way down the field towards our goal and I interrupted Kim’s description of her Saturday shopping trip with her sister with the words, “Ope. Looks like we might get some action after all.” She flung her head around to see the ball heading directly towards us, followed by two very determined young men. That look of panic descended upon her face again and she said two words in a rather shaky and desperate tone. “Oh. Laura.”

I did my part with kicking feet and determined glare, but finally it was Kim’s turn. As she defended her goal from the brutal onslaught from the two boys she had known since she was 7 years old, it was obvious she was doing a very good job.
She was a wall of defence that they simply couldn’t get by. This made her even more excited and she started kicking even harder. Her feet barely more than a blur to the naked eye. A determined look now anchored on her face. Nothing was going to stop her. Nothing!
Except maybe the pair of pink, frilly panties that had slid down the inside of her jogging pants and deposited themselves on the ground right next to the soccer ball.

We all froze in our tracks as we looked down at the pink frilly pile, unsure what to do. I was wondering if everyone else was thinking the same thing as I was. I was trying to imagine the logistics of how her underwear had become “dislodged” from her body in order to make their decent onto the soccer field. I understood that all her activity and gravity had caused them to work their way down her pant leg, but had her underwear also defied the laws of physics as well? I knew the ramifications of this singular event could change our views of science as we know it and have very far reaching results.

After what seemed like a couple minutes, but probably more like an eternity to Kim, the boy nearest her exodusing apparel picked them up and offered them to her gallantly with a bow and the words, “I believe these may be yours, Miss.” It cut the tension, we all laughed and the game started back up as if nothing had happened.

At that point our teacher discreetly told Kim that if she wished to be dismissed that was fine. With her panties grasped firmly in her hand, she ploughed off the field and toward the school with me in tow. I didn’t even ask the teacher’s permission. I just followed in case Kim needed me for, whatever.

Neither of us said anything until we got into the girls’ washroom. I had to bite my tongue (several times) to fight all the jokes that were descending from my brain and begging to shoot out of my mouth. But it was Kim who broke the silence and spoke first.
“It’s not what you think!” She blurted out.

“That’s interesting,” I responded, “because right now you wouldn’t believe what I’m thinking!”

“It’s because Saturday was laundry day at home.” was her explanation.

“I think you’ll have to explain that with a few more details, because I’m not quite getting it.”

Kim had brought her P.E. clothes home on Friday because “Saturday was laundry day at home” and she had wanted them washed. But apparently the fabric softener had done a very poor job and the static cling had caused a pair of underwear (and not even her underwear, as it turns out) to be stuck on the inside of her jogging pants only to make their debut Monday morning as she was excitedly kicking at the soccer ball and the center of attention for the entire grade 10 class. Boys and girls included.

So I responded the way any loving and devoted Christian friend would. I started laughing uncontrollably. For the next 3 days. At least.

“It’s not funny, Laura! How am I going to explain this? It’s not like I can stand up at the beginning of math class and say, ‘excuse me everyone, but about those panties this morning …’”

Now, I suppose I could have gone around and told everyone the truth of what had happened. But I have a strong conviction against talking about someone when they are not present. Especially a friend. ;-) Which I declared to Kim. She wasn’t very impressed with my high “morals” and I was the recipient of nasty looks and a week long Silent Treatment.

As the P. E. class ended and the other girls started syphoning back into the washroom, I muttered quietly and comfortingly to Kim,
“Try not to worry about it. Years from now when we’re adults, nobody will remember any of this and it will be funny to you as well.”

So here we are years later and adults. I don’t know about Kim, but I’m still finding it pretty funny and as for nobody remembering it … they will after they read this story.

And my conviction of not speaking about someone when they are not present? I realized that it had been the wrong moral stance to take and so to make up for it, I having been blabbing this story ever since. Yes. I am a woman full of scruples. Or full of something.

by Laura-Lee

message 21: by [deleted user] (new)

Laura-Lee wrote: "I haven't had a chance to read everyone's stories yet, because I wanted to make sure mine was finished on time. But they look great and I'm really looking forward to it.
Write on!

Life Story Con..."

Laura-Lee, I wish your story never ended;] I feel like I could read it on and on and on..........

The competition ends on Sunday!

message 22: by Laura-Lee (new)

Laura-Lee Rahn (lauraleewashere) | 31 comments Penny wrote: "All right it's well past 2am here, I need to sleep😴😴😴 I hope you guys enjoyed all that!!(again, SO sorry it's so long, I may try and shorten it tomorrow). Please let me know what you think, and any..."

It was a long story but I still read it ... TWICE. I don't think you're just some " boy crazy teen" or however you put it. If you were those things, it wouldn't have effected you so deeply.
You're wise to know you're wounded but not broken. But sometimes those wounds might be so horrible. (Think of a soldier who's been shot several times. He might live but how horrible is the pain!)
It took a LOT of guts to write that and then expose it to us.
Well done. Whether you win the competition or not. Well done.
Love LL

message 23: by Laura-Lee (new)

Laura-Lee Rahn (lauraleewashere) | 31 comments SHINE wrote: "TRUE STORY ABOUT MY LIFE AT TEEN CAMP!

By: Shine

One of my most favorite times at teen camp we're swinging on the big tire swing. Usually it fits up to three people, but I manag..."

When I was a teen I was always so serious. I wish I would have spent more time just doing silly things. Have a good laugh and then have the memory of it to laugh about years later. LL

message 24: by Laura-Lee (new)

Laura-Lee Rahn (lauraleewashere) | 31 comments Mayflower wrote: "I close my book in wonder. What would it be like to fall in love? Love, it's a funny word. Sometimes, its thrown arwound carelessly, and sometimes its not used enough.
The chapel bell rings out wit..."

I have never heard of this type of camp before. Thank you for writing so well. I felt like I was there with you. And sharing something brand new to me.

Love Laura-Lee

dagger [et in arcadia ego] (aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh) Life Story No. 1: Untitled

I sat in my friend Chelsea's chair while we waited for Lina. We were an odd group: A bunch of anime fangirls with completely different backgrounds. I was that good girl with overbearingly strict parents, while Chelsea was the exact opposite. Lina was right in the middle. Still, we all got together for a sleepover right before I moved.

So, while we waited for Lina to finish up at basketball practice, Chelsea introduced me to Doki Doki literature club.

Now, kids, before you call me weak for what happened next, I will have you know that Doki Doki literature club is a psychological horror game about 4 deeply depressed girls who are all madly in love with your character. Also, three of them commit suicide and have very bloody images of how they killed themselves. All of you who wish to not have vivid nightmares for the next 40 years, DO NOT PLAY THIS GAME. You have been warned.

So, Chelsea decided that we were going to play Doki Doki Literature club. She started a new game, and then she pulled over a chair for me and I sat down. I played the game for about twenty minutes.


I wiggled the mouse for a few minutes, waiting for the game to load. Chelsea and Lina had told me a lot of stuff about this game and, knowing that I was a big scaredy-cat who had never seen nor wanted to see a single horror movie in my life, warned me not to play. I was convinced I could handle it, and I told them so. They exchanged a knowing look, and said, "Okay. You can try."

Finally, the game loaded, and the title screen was this cutesy image of four anime girls standing inside a heart. I clicked play, and it started off in a nice-looking little neighborhood. I looked at my character and turned to Chelsea.

"Why...Why is your character named Boibot?" I asked. Chelsea laughed. "Just play the game, Potatos."

(Side note: Every time my friends say my name in this story, I've replaced it with potatos.)

I shrugged and continued playing the game. Boibot was having a conversation with Sayori, one of the four main characters. Chelsea watched over my shoulder for a bit, occasionally making comments on the choices I was making, before she yawned.

"Potatos. You do realize there's a button to skip stuff, right?" She said. "Just skip through this crap and get to the good part, or you won't ever get to see the first death scene!"

I clicked on the button a few times and almost fell out of my chair. It was fast-forwarding through everything so fast, it looked like the screen was glitching. "Is that normal?"I asked.

Chelsea leaned forward. "You clicked on it too many times." She pressed a button on the keyboard, and the game went back to normal speed.

"You never told me how many times to click it!" I said defensively. She made a face at me and told me to keep playing.

After a while, I started to get super bored. Nothing was happening other than a few girls having an argument. I skipped through a bunch of stuff, and then came to the "Good part," as Chelsea called it. I was back in the neighborhood, having another conversation with Sayori. She was telling me that she had really bad depression, and I had to make a choice: Tell her that she was my dearest friend, or tell her that I was in love with her. I clicked on "Dearest friend."

Chelsea gave me a knowing look. "You've just sped up the whole game, you know. Be ready."

I stuck out my tongue and turned back to the game. Time had skipped to the following day, and Boibot was looking for Sayori. He couldn't find her, so he went inside her house and into her room.

The first death scene was of Sayori hanging herself from the roof of her bedroom. I won't go into further detail, because it was Terrifying. I didn't even see most of it because I jumped out of my seat and sprinted into the living room.

"Potatos! What the heck are you doing?" Chelsea called, laughing like a maniac. At that point, Lina showed up and saw what was going on. I was standing in the living room, as far away from Chelsea's computer as I could get.

"Is it gone?" I called, hating the fact that I sounded like a scared five-year-old.

"Yeah, it's gone," Lina answered. I came back, and both of them laughed at me. I laughed too, realizing how stupid I must've looked. Then I put on a serious face.

"I'm gonna try again. I'll just skip through it and this time I'll stay for the death scene." I said. I thought I sounded pretty confident, but Lina and Chelsea glanced at each other like, What did we get ourselves into?

Lina turned to me. "Potato, the next death scene has a jumpscare. You-"

I interrupted her. "Changed my mind. I am never doing that again."

We all got into the car. Chelsea's dad drove us to go see Detective Pikachu. The second we got out, Chelsea realized the parking lot was completely devoid of people.

"I LIKE ANIME AND I AM PROUD OF IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" She screamed at the top of her lungs. I ran to the nearest curb and, forgetting that I was wearing flip-flops, tried to do some kind of weird Naruto-Moonshadow-jump-flip-run thingy. That was how I got my first pair of ripped jeans. I tripped over and scraped my knee really badly on the sidewalk, shredding a hole in my jeans from seam to seam. It didn't actually hurt that bad, but my friends were all over me in an instant.

I got up slowly. The lady at the desk in the theater gave me a few bandaids, and after that I was fine. We watched the movie (Which was better than I expected it to be), and afterward, we hung out in Chelsea's room and binge-watched anime until 2:00 AM. I still have a video of Chelsea screaming in slow motion.

dagger [et in arcadia ego] (aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh) Potatos Unite wrote: "Life Story No. 1: Untitled

I sat in my friend Chelsea's chair while we waited for Lina. We were an odd group: A bunch of anime fangirls with completely different backgrounds. I was that good girl ..."

I know it's bad, but I tried my best. I have a very boring life.😁

dagger [et in arcadia ego] (aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh) Yeah, Doki Doki Literature Club started off cutesy and fun until it turned into Terrifyingness.

message 28: by [deleted user] (new)

Today's the last day so any last entries???

message 29: by [deleted user] (new)

Has everyone who wanted to enter submitted their entry yet???

THE COMPETITION ENDS IN 3 HOURS. Then I will send out a poll. I will give a longer voting time for the poll since the stories are long and we want to be able to read all of them;]

message 30: by Faith (new)

Faith (victorianprincess) | 33 comments I am writing mine right now!

message 31: by [deleted user] (new)

Faith wrote: "I am writing mine right now!"

Okay! Do you think you can get it done in 3 hours or nah?

message 32: by Faith (new)

Faith (victorianprincess) | 33 comments hmmmm. Haha, I don't know.

message 33: by Faith (new)

Faith (victorianprincess) | 33 comments I'm trying to find a part in my diary that I want to write about......

message 34: by Faith (new)

Faith (victorianprincess) | 33 comments yes, I think I can now! I just found something to write about.

message 35: by [deleted user] (new)

Faith wrote: "yes, I think I can now! I just found something to write about."

Ok, great! Let me know if you need more time but regardless the competition ends TODAY;]

message 36: by [deleted user] (new)

Cherie wrote: "Faith says ok!"


message 37: by Faith (new)

Faith (victorianprincess) | 33 comments Here is mine! it is called "London Bridge"

message 38: by Faith (new)

Faith (victorianprincess) | 33 comments I stepped out of the car and into a dream. Before me, right in front of my eyes, I saw the bridge. I was in London town, the place of royalty and history, where elegance thrives, and people feast on good old fashioned beef pasties, roast beef, and pot pies. Where the china and glassware are delicate and lovely, and the gentry drink tea every day.
I climbed up the steep steps leading to the top of the bridge, and looked at the sky in ecstasy. This, this was the original London Bridge!
I sighed, taking it all in. Though I was not really in England- the land that lives in my dreams- I was in Lake Havasu, Arizona, to which place builders from England transported the whole bridge- stone by stone- to be reconstructed over the lake.
I ran my hand across the stones, soaking in that remembrance.
stepping back down each of the stairs, I joined my family in the town square, and cried aloud for joy.
"Look!" I said, "it's a British telephone booth."
I ran to it, and stood inside, imagining myself in the actual streets of London.
My sister snapped a photo of me there, then I did of her; and we moved on to the little shops in the heart of the old time town.
There, in an antique store, I found my treasure: a dear, beautiful, delicately crafted teapot with the words 'London Bridge' painted on.
I have kept it in my room ever since, and sketched a picture based on it as well. And lying in a tiny box, a piece of the old London bridge brings a little bit of England into the atmosphere...

message 39: by [deleted user] (new)


Competition OFFICIALLY closes in 1 and a half hours!!!!!

message 40: by Faith (new)

Faith (victorianprincess) | 33 comments Thanks, big sis and little sis!❤❤❤

message 41: by [deleted user] (new)


Poll will be sent out soon

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