“No need to force yourself to do something the “right way” if it’s not your right way. Your job is to honor your process.”
—Andi Cumbo
Welcome back! One week! You have been writing for a whole week! Take a moment and give yourself a hand! This is no small step on the road to making creative writing a habit! congratulations! I am so proud of you! Please remember to do something nice for yourself today - in addition to taking time to write. You deserve it!
Today's Prompt:
Write something around Spin The Bottle
Regina's 15 minutes of creative writing:
“Kayla! I didn't think you were going to make it!” Chelsea’s overly friendly voice came out in a sugary sweet rush as she opened the door.
“Yeah, well, my mom dropped me off -” I shoved my hands deeper into the pockets of my hoodie and turned my head away, pretending to look at the pile of firewood stacked floor to ceiling in the covered carport, the massive axe thrust blade down into the massive chopping block in the middle of the wood chip strewn cement.
“Oh, well, great! Come on in!” Chelsea stepped reluctantly aside, and I hesitated before stepping over the threshold and out of the cold.
The hallway beyond the door was a pile of boots and shoes and a forest of coats and jackets, leading to a stairwell that went up into the house beyond. To the left, the hallway opened into a basement rumpus room, complete with broken down couch, patched with Duct tape and half covered with a crocheted Afghan that had seen better days, and a foosball table. The room was packed, shoulder to shoulder with kids from my grade, each with a drink in their hand, or a controller for the Mario Cart that was playing on the TV. Music blared from one corner.
I stepped into the noise, glancing around, watching people stop what they were doing to stare at me briefly, before going back to their conversation, flirting, foosball or video games.
I rolled my eyes. Five schools in five years and it was always the same. I was an outsider who didn’t belong here, but if I didn't come back with a beer bottle label and a collection of teenage fun stories, my mom would put me to work at the nursing home for a week.
“You can’t just stay in your room and write all day. You have to be around people, Kayla! How else will you collect enough experience to write about humans? It is your choice – parties, or bedpans.”
I shuddered at the memories of the time I had called her bluff – and the week I had spent playing checkers with a wrinkled man who kept putting the pieces in his mouth, and an old lady who insisted I was not only her daughter, but that I had taken her dog.
This was slightly less horrifying.
I glared at everyone through thick strands of black and purple bangs, shoved the black hood off my head and dropping my hoodie on the pile near the door. I left on my boots, because fuck Chelsea, and they were part of my armor. Black death metal t-shirt, ripped and safety pinned back together over a black sports bra that minimized my overly developed boobs, black jeans, ripped at the knees and just under one ass cheek, exposing red plaid boxers. Twin studded belts that hung at various heights around my hips. Black eyeliner, way too much, and already smudged, but it was better than any superhero mask.
Goth Kayla was tough, cold and strong. Goth Kayla was a misunderstood bitch. She was powerful. I loved Goth Kayla. I just knew I wasn’t really Goth Kayla – anymore than I had been Grunge Kayla in Seattle, or Hippie Kayla in Portland, or Skater Kayla in San Diego or Posh Kayla in Hamilton. I wasn't sure who I really was anymore, but putting on these characters gave me freedom that being myself never could – freedom from caring what anyone thought.
If they liked me, who cared? It was all fake. They liked someone who didn't exist.
If they didn't like me, who cared? They didn't even know me. Their opinions could be packed away with each new identity as we packed up our suitcases and headed to the next town, the next school, the next fresh start.
***
Time’s up! What did you write? Share in the comments, or send me an email. Let’s try again tomorrow! Here’s to the writing challenge!!
See you tomorrow!
With Love,
Regina Grimm is the author of erotic fairytales written for the uninhibited readers 18+.
Check out my books:
Snow White and the Wicked Curse: Chapter 1
Snow White and the Vicious Curse: Chapter 2
Snow White and the Seven Thieves: Chapter 3
The final chapter, Snow White and the Poisoned Apple.
Prefer to read the whole story at once? Grab your copy of Snow: The Complete Erotic Series now! All five books available now in ebook and paperback.
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With Love,
Check out her books:
Snow White and the Wicked Queen: Chapter 1
Snow White and the Vicious Curse: Chapter 2
Snow White and the Seven Thieves: Chapter 3
Snow White and the Poisoned Apple: The Final Chapter
Prefer to read the whole story at once? Grab your copy of Snow: The Complete Erotic Series now! All five books are available now as ebooks and paperbacks. Coming soon in Large Print format!
2nd edition coming 2025!
