So, there was a challenge floating around that is basically a list of 100 themes (hence… 100 theme challenge. ;)) and you have to write something from each theme, whether it be a short story, a poem, etc. So… I decided I’d try it, because I’m crazy…and I figured it might be fun… Maybe.
Anyways, that means I’m going to post everything I write on my blog, so probably a post a day (excluding weekends). Therefore, since I started the challenge this morning, here are the ones I’ve written so far:
Introducing Your Hidden Enemy
To introduce myself, I am a thought. A fleeting moment; a fading memory. I cannot be stopped and your will cannot change mine. I cannot be seen, I can only be described. I am lost yet found. I can do as I please and act as I wish. But you need not fear me for I only come for one, innocent reason. To remind you of the hot breath you feel on your neck in the morning hours. The creatures that haunt your dreams, I have placed them there. Therefore, do not fear me. Hate me as I hate you.
It Is Complicated…
I can no longer hide the thoughts that linger in my mind. I shall indeed confess that tears do sprinkle down my face as I write this. You have been so kind to me and I am a terrible person to have kept from you a secret so great for so long. I hope that, perhaps, you would still love me after I confess the truth. If not though, it will make nary a difference as, by the time you read this, I shall already have passed away. For I have drank poison and have but only an hour glass time to write this.
To put it shortly, I am not who I have said I am. My blue eyes are not from royalty and I do not come from the lands to the east. In truth, my father was an innocent farmer in your land when the great war broke out. He fought bravely until his last stroke and, in his final moments, he begged me to run. But stubborn as I was, I did not run. Instead, I picked up his sword and fought as he had.
Sadly though, I was not trained and my strikes fell short of a great swordsman. Therefore, I was soon captured – which may, perhaps, be the only part of my story that you already know as truth- and taken away. It was in the dungeons of the Diobaine where I met your daughter.
I will kindly tell you, Sir, that even in her young age she was a great woman, and despite her tender years, she was braver than most in those prisons…including myself. It was I who caused your daughter’s death, or rather, I who could have changed it and did not for fear of my own life.
It was then three days after her passing that your men saved me, the last of the prisoners, and took me to you. Brave King, when I saw you and the pain in your eyes, I felt as if I must mend your broken heart if not to fix my wrong, to bring a smile back to my majesty’s face.
Little did I know, my lord, that I would also give you my love as well as what healing I could. I had never expected for you to wrap me in your arms as I cried onto your blouse that night. Never did I think you would bend on your knee and offer, to a mere peasant, your life. And now, as I look back, I see that, in the deepest of my thoughts, I had hoped you would.
It is only now, in my dying moments, that I admit to you what I have carried for so long. I am not royal, I am not a great fighter, and I did not fight for your daughter as I should have, but despite my lies, I do love you, my King, as I have never lied about that. It is complicated and if only I could tell you more, but I see now that my hand grows wary and begins to shake, my writing becomes unreadable. Therefore, beg me pardon and please do not grow angry with such a short note, as I must stop now and lay down to breath my last.
-Your humble servant
Theme: Making History
We’re making history with every passing day,
We’re following our dreams in every little way,
We listen to His Word as closely as we can,
To fight for what we believe in,
We’re writing down our stories, the stories of our lives,
We’re filling up the book with everything we try,
Brothers and sisters, together as one,
Making history with every moment.
It was the most dangerous form of sibling rivalry. We were well-known as the two kingdoms that always fought. Every passing moment we spent planning ways to end the other. It was no longer the battle of whom mother loved most, but rather the battle of who’s army would die first. We killed thousands, wounded millions, ruined many lives. But for what reason? For the mere reason of pride? If only we had not been so blind.