Writing Prompt Mondays: Prompt 22

September 7, 2020

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Well done on your responses to last week’s prompt, Detectives! Your stories were so clever and thoughtful and romantic. I particularly liked Polly’s story about real female pirates, Ana’s story about a crush that might break up a friendship, Inaya’s Partition love story, Bel’s Murder Most Unladylike meet cute and Shims Girl’s geeky love story.

Because a lot of you have gone back to school by now, there’s less time for you to write your stories. So for the rest of this year, these prompts are going to become monthly, not weekly. You can still post your responses at any time, of course – and if you get bored you can always go back and respond to older prompts!

For the rest of September, your prompt will be resolutions. This was suggested by Detective Society member Neve – and it seems like a great choice, since this is the beginning of the school year, a time full of new challenges and big decisions.

A resolution is of course just a decision – to take up running, or learn to bake, or to be nicer to a family member or friend! You can write about characters making resolutions and breaking them, deciding to do something nice or not nice at all. You can also write about resolve in general – that’s the inner strength you use to get you through a difficult time and deal with upsetting things going on in the world.

Good luck, Detectives – both with your stories and with taking the big decisions that are part of all of our lives!

The rules …

  1. It can be as long or as short as you like, and take you as much or as little time as you want.
  2. It can be any genre (type) of story you want. If you have an idea for something that I haven’t mentioned (writing a poem! Being inspired by a song you love! Writing non-fiction!), don’t wait for my permission – just go for it! This is your creativity working!
  3. You are not allowed to worry about grammar or spelling.
  4. You are not allowed to worry if it isn’t perfect, or criticise yourself as you’re writing.
  5. You are encouraged to make a plan before you begin, to make it easier for you to get to the end of the story. This can be two words or a whole page! But if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.
  6. Get to the end of the story without stopping to go back and fix bits you don’t like. Once you’ve finished, read it through again. If you still don’t like those bits, you can edit them now!
  7. If you want (and only if you want!) you’re allowed to post the first 500 words of your story in the comments below. I have to moderate the comments so it may take a while for them to show up – please be patient. I don’t want to see you apologising for your story or minimising what you’ve done when you post – writing a story is a triumph and you should be proud!
  8. Please do not use your full name when you comment – first names are fine, or you can make up a username that you like! Also remember to stay safe online and not get into private discussions with anyone you don’t know in real life without telling an adult first.
  9. If you like someone else’s story, you are allowed to comment to say so! If you’d like to give them ideas that might make their story even stronger, that’s OK, but please be kind and remember how deeply we all care about our writing. A good format for feedback might be something like: ‘I loved ****! Have you thought of ****? I think it might make your story even better!’ I will delete any comment if I feel it’s critical without being constructive.
  10. I can’t promise to give feedback on any individual stories – I’m not marking them!
  11. This isn’t a competition, and there will be no winners and no prizes, though I may choose a story or two to highlight in future posts.

More posts to explore

I’m very pleased to say that my Behind the Book video, featuring a Q&A, a workspace tour and a reading from the last two chapters of Death Sets Sail, is available to watch NOW on the Puffin YouTube channel. There’s a link below – I hope you enjoy it!
I’ve got a new video on the way! Behind the Book with Robin Stevens will premiere on the Puffin YouTube Channel on Friday 18th September at 6pm BST.
For the rest of September, your prompt will be resolutions. This was suggested by Detective Society member Neve – and it seems like a great choice, since this is the beginning of the school year, a time full of new challenges and big decisions.
I’ve got good news for Scottish fans – I may not be able to come visit you in person this autumn, but I’ll be able to be with you virtually! I’m teaming up with the Scottish Friendly Children’s Book Tour and Book Week Scotland for a week of absolutely FREE events for Scottish schools.
You have until the 6th of September to send all of your questions about the MMU series, The Ministry of Unladylike Activity, Howl the puppy or anything else you might want to know to a special email address that my publisher Puffin has set up: askrobinstevens@penguinrandomhouse.co.uk. I’m going to be answering my very favourites on a new ‘Behind the Book’ video, premiering on the 18th of September on the Puffin YouTube channel.

136 Responses

  1. Hello Robin and everyone,
    What a great prompt! Well done Neve. Congratulations to those who got their stories featured too!

    Monthly prompts seem like a good idea as now most of us are going back to school, I think we’ll have a lot more work to do! Good luck everyone with school.

    Colette

  2. Thanks Robin and Neve for an interesting prompt, this definitely will take a while for me to sort out — I so fail at, especially not eating pizza, LOL Congrats to all who have a story mention this time around, Well Done!

  3. I HATE making resolutions. My mother always suggested I should make some, that it will make me a better person. Whatever. Last year I joined an acting club. The year before I tried harder at maths and passed my end of year test. This year I said I would take up baking. Simple. But my Mom thought different. “Try do something influential, something that will really inspire you to be the best person you can be.” She put down the carrot she was chopping and sat down beside me. “Why don’t you join the Tidy Towns and pick up all the rubbish around town? Or why not start Athletics? You would really do you some good to get some exercise you know.” I stared at her. Ok. It’s official. My mother has gone crazy. I would NEVER starts Athletics if it was the only thing to do on earth. “No way Mom.” I said. “Honey, you need to at do something.” She said, taking my hand. “Rosie has already started a singing club and has taken part in the school play.” Off she went. Rambling on and on about Rosie. Rosie this, Rosie that. Rosie is PERFECT. She isn’t but my Mom only sees her as the sweet, cute girl who would never force the younger children in school to give them their pocket money or spread nasty rumors about all the children less fortunate then herself. “Jane? Jane! Are you listening?” She suddenly asked. She gave me a little shake. “Uh yeah. You know what? I just remembered that I forgot to do some homework. I’ll go and do that now.” I pulled my hand away and ran to my bedroom. I jumped onto my bed and buried my head in my pillow. I felt under it until I found Luna. I am way to old for teddies, I know that but Luna isn’t an ordinary teddy. I’ve had her since I was born. I hide her from everyone. Even Sarah, my best friend doesn’t know about Luna. Suddenly my door swung open. I took my hand from under my pillow and sat up. Rosie was standing in the doorway. “Hey Piggy. I’m back! Can I borrow the computer?” She asked. Without waiting for an answer she ran into my room and opened my cupboard. “Get out of her Rosie!” I shouted at her. “ I don’t think so Piggy.” She shouted back. She started rooting through the cupboard. Suddenly she stopped. “What is this Piggy? Didn’t know you still had this.” She lifted a small china doll out of the cupboard. Oh No. She had found Juliet, my special doll. My dad gave it to me before he died. I was not about to let Rosie take it. I thundered over to her. “Give that back!” I yelled. “I don’t think so Piggy.” Rosie teased. She held Juliet aloft and let go. She fell to the ground with an almighty crash. I screamed. Rosie laughed. I launched myself at her and hit every part of her I could reach. Mom came running up and tore us apart. “Jane! You stupid child! You hurt your poor little sister! You are grounded for a whole week!” Mom screeched. Tears welled in my eyes. I HATE Rosie.

    TWO DAYS LATER

    I sat on my bed staring out the window. I saw Rosie at the front of our house saying goodbye to Mom and Adam as she headed of to school. I wanted to get out of my room so badly. It was another week till my school started back. I couldn’t wait to go back. I decided to try and read my favorite book, Murder Most Unladylike. I sat down and started to read. I read about six chapters when Mom came in with my lunch on a tray. She left it on my desk and came over to me. “You know, now would be a good time to make a resolution.” Mom said, smiling encouragingly. I rolled my eyes. “Not this again.” I yawned. “Jane, please.” She pleaded looking into my eyes. “ You need to try something. You know what? Why don’t you write a story? You used to love doing that.” I thought for a moment, biting my bottom lip. “Fine. I’ll do it. But it won’t be very good.” Mom smiled. “That’s my girl.” She whispered and pulled me into an uncomfortable hug. “Now, I better run. Lots of work to do.” She explained. She patted my knee and stood up. “ I can’t wait to see what you come up with.” She said before closing my door with a gentle thud.

    HALF AN HOUR LATER

    I sat at my desk ready to write. I opened my new notebook and grabbed a pen. I thought for a moment. What to write? I closed my eyes and tried to think. A story about a fairy? No way. An Alien? Nah. Then it dawned on me. What about a murder mystery? After all, murder mysteries are my favorite. I started to write and before long I had written twelve pages in my neatest writing. My flew door opened. This time instead of Mom it was Adam. He strutted in and looked at me. “Whatcha doing Jade?” I stared. Five years of living with me and he still doesn’t know my name. “It’s Jane.” I muttered. “Sorry? Didn’t catch that!” He said. I rolled my eyes. “I’m busy.” I said. Adam didn’t get it and didn’t move. “Can you please leave?” I asked. He turned around and strolled out the door. I turned back to my story and continued to write.

    A WEEK LATER

    Finally! My story was finished. And just in time for school. I couldn’t wait to show my Mom the 234 page story I had written. I shouted for her to come up. Ten seconds later she burst through the door. “What’s wrong? Is there a fire? Did you brake a bone? What?” She shouted as she came in. I laughed. I guess a shouted louder than intended. I showed her my story. She took it and went of to her room to read it. I sat in my room, praying that she liked it. That evening she came back to my room. “Honey, I need to talk to you.” She said. Oh God. What did I do now? “That story your wrote was AMAZING!” She yelled. I ran over and hugged her. “You really think so?” I asked. “Of course it was so captivating and exciting. I loved it!” She exclaimed. I was relieved. Maybe I could be an author when I’m older? Or maybe I didn’t have to wait till then. Maybe next year my resolution would be to get my book published. Maybe.

    1. Totally awesome tale, and so cool if the character could be seen a few years later what they had managed to write. Writing tales should be a subject at school! Well done!!!

  4. Hi Robin thanks so much for mentioning my prompt idea!! My idea for this prompt was a girl trying to resolve an issue by going to by her forgiveness even though she did nothing wrong!! If your stuck i was thinking a new years resolution. If you dont know what that is its pretty much setting a goal for the year to come xx

    She walked out in a twist of her heel. I was fourced to resolve this stupid arguement even though I did notihng wrong. The girl who is very dramatic is my (help my soul) doormate who blames me for her not getting the writer of the month. She thinks writing about fashion will get her somewhere other than Paris where there is fashion empires everywhere. But with her attitude she will barely get a passport. I traced my fingers over the assignment told we had to do. “Resolve the issue and then clean the playground”. uhm no I was not wasting my time scraping sticky gum of the bottom of the benches when I could be preparing for the winter ball. Like I would go but oh well.

    I suppose she does not like me as after I arrvied everyone had a frantic frenzy over my door mate. I suppose that was a rain on her parade.. Literally she expected to have a parade in honour of her doing something dumb… Getting though her first detention.

    Even though I could not resolve it without her help I had to try. So plans were made and dates were set…

    1. A really tough subject for a prompt, but I do like a challenge and this is a great one, Neve. I like your take on the prompt. Will you be expanding it in another part, maybe a conflict scene between the two characters? Well done!

    2. Hi part 2!! Also the girl my character is arguing with is called Amanda

      Ok so scrap what I last said. I was not going to buy her “friendship”. Ill explain what happened this morning.

      I woke up to go to the shower room. Then I got dressed and went down to breakfast. She was there at the table already. Her foot was up on the table saving a seat for her friend even though thats where I am meant to sit. I lightly kicked her foot of the bench and sat down. She scowled at me and turned to talk to Jessica about the winter ball. Jessica asked me what I was to wear and when I told her it enraged her as my dress sounded “better” than hers. She grabbed the teap pot and poured it all down my school uniform. I screamed as a teacher came rushing over. It burnt my skin and sokaed through my clothes. They tried to take me to san but I would not let her get away with this. We were forced to make up. So lieing through my teeth I said “Im sorry, for having to look at you today.” Then I walked off to san thrwoing backward glances at Jessica. Everyobdy whispered about her and made awful remarks about the winter ball to her and I suppose I should have noticed it before. She was lonely. Everybody left her out and Jessica only talked to her for gossip. Maybe becoming friends would help? So at bunbreak (chocolate biscuits nothing special) I walked over to her. She looked at me and said ” I know how fake you are really you are a rich snob.” I told her that was not the case and honestly she needed a friend. I hooked arms with her and dragged her off to french. I think she appreciated it but I was not sure until later that evening.

      We were in our dorm and she walked over. Thanks for today and sorry for this morning at brekafast. I guess I wanted to look cool so people would like me. It was awful for me to relaise how she felt. I reassured her we were friends and maybe in a few months we can be best friends as we both were not exactly friendly but yet popular. So we ate chocolate from her tuck box until the bell for prep rang.
      We both did our french comphrehensions whilst passing notes to each other. Later that night we discussed what had happened that day and Mamazelles incomphrehensible accent.

      Its been a few months and we are super close now. We still have to do Latin and struggle (not us but anyway) through sheets of maths but we had changed. We even became “detectives” and naturally I was president. Maybe change was good.

  5. This is an excellent prompt and I will post my story soon although I am little sad that these prompts will only come up monthly 😢but I guess most of us are going back to school and I can always go back to older prompts and post story’s or comment on them!

  6. This is a good prompt!! But I am quite sad that they only come , monthly because these stories are what keep me super busy!! And Robin thank you so much for mentioning my story!!!

  7. Hi I love this prompt. Quite sad they will only be monthly from now on but a week goes quickly and what with school it is difficult to get the prompt done. By the way when will week 20s prompt be announced?

  8. “I. Don’t. Need. Her”

    “I. DON’T. NEED. HER”

    “I DON’T NEED HER”

    My voice cracked as I screamed through my tears. My face was wet with tears and my eyes were red from crying. I wiped them with the back of my hands, drying my face. I ripped apart the pictures of me and Mum together. I didn’t need her. I never needed her.

    My phone rang in my pocket for the hundredth time. I knew it was Mum. I didn’t want anything to do with her.

    The bus was pulling up at the station outside. I grabbed my bags and opened my bedroom door. I slammed it behind me.

    “Sunny, I didn’t mean what I said. I love you Sunny, you know that”

    I slammed the front door behind me, blocking out her cries. I didn’t care anymore.

    “Single to the airport”

    “You going on holiday eh? All on your own? You seem a bit young for that sunshine”, the bus driver said.

    “I’m 15. I’m going to visit my dad”.

    “That’s nice then. See him much?”

    “No. Not much”

    “Ok. Be a nice treat for you. And him mind you”

    “Thanks”, I said before climbing up the stairs to the top deck of the bus. I sat at the front of the top, remembering when I used to sit there with mum. And Vegas.

    Another tear fell down my cheek when I thought about Vegas. My older sister. She died a month ago. She probably provoked the fight between me and mum.

    I still don’t feel guilty though.

    Why would I?

    It’s her fault. With her boyfriend. Well now husband. I HATE HATE HATE saying that.

    It’s not my fault it made me unhappy.

    And it’s not my fault the fact that she gave WAY more attention to my little stepbrothers than me.

    And it’s not MY fault that she doesn’t like my dad anymore.

    My phone rang in my pocket. This time seemed like the millionth.

    “Hello?”

    “Sunny please come home….”

    I hung up.

    I wasn’t coming home. Not after she said we should ‘forget’ about Vegas and move on with our lives. Forget? That isn’t possible.

    Resolutions

    Try to forget about Mum. I’m sure that’s what Vegas would have wanted.

    1. The emotions are so powerful and I love the little air of mystery at the beginning when we’re wondering why she’s so upset. Great job!

  9. Here is my story, hope you enjoy! Also I might post anther story because this prompt is soooooooo good!

    “Hey, Enid! Would you like to come and help mum make cupcakes for dads birthday?” Ada asked eagerly shaking her hands that had pink oven gloves on.
    “Nope!”
    “Please Enid, you use to love cooking now all you do is watch TV and play video games!” Ada shouted but it was true. Enid just neither joined in when everyone was having fun, teenagers just didn’t do that sort of thing because they are all plugged into the internet, so Ada decided to get her sister to come and join in!
    “Enid! I challenge you to make a resolution! You must help mum and I make these cupcakes for dad and join in with all our family games!”
    Enid looked up and said “I am not a child Ada! I am a teenager and I don’t want to make any resolutions……………..”
    “Oh please Enid! You will enjoy bieng with us more than playing on your X box and looking on your phone!”
    “Oh fine, I will try my hardest to help more and play family games and- OMG! My fave Youtuber just posted the best video ever!” Cried Enid sitting back down and Ada sighed.
    “Come on and help bake these cupcakes for dads birthday! I will give you all my sweets that Gran gave to me!”
    “Well………” mumbled Enid. “Ok, but just for the sweets!” She said and slouched over towards the kitchen table and began to bake cupcakes with her sister and suddenly found out she loved bieng with her family and everyone was highly surprised to find that she did not ever give up her resloution or miss one single chance to spend time with her family and in the end, Enid nether asked for the sweets!

    Hope you liked this story! Feedback is appreciated!

    1. I really enjoyed this, Hero detective. I like the idea that if teenagers got off their devices they’d find that they enjoyed being with their family more.

    2. I like the situation, and the begrudging attitude turning to enjoying what Enid was doing. I think I would have taken the sweets though, well at least some, LOL. Well done Hero Detective!!!

  10. Hello detective society and Robin Stevens! This story is based on the idea that sometimes there can’t be a resolution to your problem, no matter how desperately you want it. Enjoy!

    “Hi,” I say slightly awkwardly, and mum stares back with wide eyes. “It was nice of you to agree to come and see me,” I say, my voice breaking slightly. Mum nods and continues to stare. My earlier excitement is wavering slightly. I couldn’t believe it, at first. My mama, MINE, was coming to visit the foster kid home. I’d seen other parents come and go, and almost always tantrums were thrown from their kids. Why did mum leave me? The question we always found ourselves asking. But for me? It is a dream come true that my mama had come.

    “I wrote you letters,” I start, slightly unsure of how to say what I want to. “Just, sort of updates. You know, how I’ve been.” I look up and smile at mum. Her head is cocked to the side and her brows are ever so slightly furrowed, as though she’s working out what language I’m speaking. “It’s real stupid, but I even wrote your replies. I did, really.” I laugh at myself, but it didn’t take a genius to sense the hurt in my voice. “I’d put your reply in an envelope, take it to the front door and post it to myself. Then I’d wait five minutes and oh look, I’ve got a letter!”

    A little tear slips its way down my cheek and I brighten my smile to hide it. I learnt a long time ago that humor is a good way to hide the pain. A long pause stretches out between us and my smile slowly dies. “Did you get them?” I ask. “The letters?” My steady mask has fallen, and my face is filled with longing.

    Mum nods slightly. “But then why didn’t you write back?” I ask, quietly. She whispers something and I’m shocked by how hoarse her voice sounds. “You can’t read?” I ask, shocked. She nods again. “That makes no-” I stop, because of course it makes sense. “Yeah. Yeah, I should have known. You know, you weren’t ever too good with forms and stuff. Not much of a surprise, I guess.”

    The door suddenly swings open, and Mr. Farrows’ face appears around the edge. “Time, to go, now.”

    “What?” I ask, confused. “But she only just got here!” I realize my tone was verging on hysterics, but I can’t help myself.

    “Come on, Sophie. Your mother only booked a short session.” My mother gets up to leave, but just as she’s reaching the door, I spring up in my seat and shout:

    “You know one day; I wish that I’d be the one to leave.” My breathing is coming in short gasps and my chest is raising and falling too quickly. “And, and just as I’d reach the door, you’d shout with all your might, ‘No, Sophie! I’m your mama and I love you and just please don’t go!’”

    All my energy seems to suddenly sap out of me, and I sink deep down into my chair and say quietly, “But I guess that ain’t ever gonna happen.” I look into Mum’s eyes and for the first time something along the lines of compassion are forming on the sides of her mouth. “So, I’ll keep writing you letters.” I smile bitterly at her as tears begin to stream down my cheeks. “And you’ll keep not writing them back.”

  11. Hi! I decided to write a part 2 to my story, from Vegas who provoked the fight of Sunny and her Mum and who is now dead. I will probably do a Part 3, possibly 4 to tie it all together! Hope you enjoy!

    Part 2

    That’s NOT what I want.

    I want Mum, and Sunny to have the relationship they always had when I was around.

    But no. Of course Mum has to say something about me that I agree with and Sunny has to freak out about it. I swear, if they don’t make up, I will have a personal word with the Heaven/Hell sorter and have Sunny sent to Hell.

    I get that Sunny misses me and all but seriously, she needs to chill. Personally I agree with Mum. Forgetting about me will help Sunny. She’s been so weird lately. She needs to calm down. I’m gone now. It’s not like anyone can change that. I mean it was my fault I died. I was the one that stupidly stepped out in front of that car.

    I was alive for a while. After the car hit me. I could feel the pain for what felt like a eternity. I could hear Mum crying. But I couldn’t hear Sunny. She was silent.

    I didn’t know if she even cared, until I was sorted in to Heaven. I could hear and see everything she felt. I didn’t understand why she hadn’t shown it before. When I was still alive. Maybe she was just embarrassed. Why would she be? Did she really not care at that point? Really?

    Resolutions
    Make Sunny and Mum love each other again – or have word with the Sorter, about Sunny.

  12. I never made resolutions. I usually broke them within a week. But this year was different. Everything had changed. My family, my whole life! To understand this, you need to go back to a year ago.

    My name is, WAS, Katie Highnet. It’s not any more. I had my parents, my sister, a whole gaggle of friends. I’m fourteen (I think) but tall for my age. Every time I called Mum ‘Mum’ or Dad ‘Dad’ or my sister ‘my sister’ they looked nervous. It confused me but I didn’t care. But one morning, everything changed. My sister, Elsie, got the paper as it clicked through the letterbox. She put it down on the table, then saw the headline and snatched it up again. “What? Hey, I wanna see!” I cried.
    “NO! I, erm, I mean no. It-it’s not appropriate.” She replied.
    “Why?”
    “It-it has swearing in it!”
    “What? I’m nearly fifteen!”
    “But you’re fourteen. You can’t.”
    Mum came down. “Hey, hey! What’s all the shouting about?”
    “Katie wants to look at a headline that’s not appropriate.” My sister said automatically.
    “Oh right. Katie, go to school.”
    I trudged away. On the way I saw the newspaper in Sid’s newsagent. And that was when my whole life changed. I bought a copy of it and read it thoroughly before going home. Upon arriving, my Mum said “Why aren’t you at school?”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?” I said angrily.
    “T-t-tell you what?” She stuttered.
    “Bad liar.”
    “W-What?”
    “You’re a bad liar. The newspaper. Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me?”
    “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
    “Why? WHY?!!” I screamed, my voice breaking.
    I’m sad just thinking about it now. We sat down and my mum explained everything. This is what the newspaper said.
    DESPERATE MUM’S SEARCH FOR LOST DAUGHTER.
    13 years ago, Sammy Davis was poor and struggled to feed her baby daughter and herself. She had no choice than to give her daughter away. Now a successful businesswoman, she searches for her daughter. Belle Davis, 14, is her. Scientists have created what Belle will look like.
    Next to it was a photo of… me. I couldn’t believe it. But it was true. I am Belle Davis and my REAL mother is Sammy Davis.

    1. Wow, this is another great take on the prompt. Will you be carrying on the hunt for Belle’s mom? I bet there would be a lot of angst and tears along the way from the characters!!!

    2. Part 2
      I refused to go to school. I stayed in my room and packed a suitcase. I waited until Elsie came home. She may not be any relation to me but I still love her. I heard the door click open. I heard Mum-NOT MUM- tell her what had happened. She came up to my room quietly. She had been crying. I felt bad. “It was coming.” She whispered. “There would always be a day when you found out.”
      “I’m sorry.” I murmured.
      She jumped up and hugged me. That was when we really cried.
      I left the house and flagged down a taxi. I had googled the address. Not-Mum, not-Dad and Elsie waved me off. I felt guilty for leaving them but I had no choice. As I got in the taxi, the driver said “ ‘ere, you look like that…”
      “Just drive.” I cut in. My new life. That was what was waiting for me.

      1. Part 3
        I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, the driver was saying “Oi. Oi lassie! We’re here.”
        “Oh, sorry. Right. Thanks.” I hopped out and got my suitcase. I gave the driver my money and walked towards the gate. “Wait, hang on!” I cried turning around, but the driver was gone. I wasn’t anywhere near Manchester! I was in Cornwall! What a dodgy driver! I sat at the side of the road and cried a little. “Hey you girl!” A man walked by.
        I looked up. He dropped a bottle and it smashed on the floor. I leapt out the way and landed in the road. A car roared towards me and I rolled out the way. I smacked into the kerb and lay in shock. I staggered to my feet and cried out as a car hurtled towards me. There was no time to dodge. I heard the squeal of brakes and was thrown into the air. I collapsed in a heap. I was unconscious for a while. I woke up in hospital. “Get out the way! She’s my daughter!” a voice shouted. I caught sight of a woman with brown hair tied in a neat ponytail tied with a ribbon. She had sensible jeans on and a plain white T-shirt with a denim jacket on. Her shoes were slip on flats. “Belle!” She cried.
        I found myself being hugged by a stranger. “I’m your mother.”

        1. Brilliant!!! I love how there was such a bold twist and she ended in Cornwall and then stunned when she was in the accident. Well done StarryMoon, a rollercoaster of a conclusion! 🙂

  13. My story (PART I)
    “No!!” I yelled, stumbling past her, my eyes full of tears and my head held high. My fists clenched on either side of my chequered school skirt, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying not to let the tears escape. This wasn’t meant to happen. Not again. I had been given a second chance, and I had just thrown it all away.

    I went to throw open the willow-patterned door and storm out of that dreaded room, but something made pause. She hadn’t moved an inch after my fit of anger, and she continued to stand there, her blue eyes blazing like the wildest fire. Her defiant tilt of head made me wonder, just wonder, what she was like on the inside. On the outside, she was a smooth-running robot, with neither a strand of hair nor button out of place. But inside, I thought, perhaps she was a little bit like me.

    I turned and faced her, standing in front of her mahogany desk like a first-former fearfully awaiting their punishment. My golden schoolgirl plait was slung over my shoulder, and strands of hair were pushing their way in front of my eyes. I quickly tucked them back, then dropped my eyes to the fuchsia coloured rug I was shakily standing on. “Look at me.” She whispered, her voice soft but stern. I looked up. Her blazing eyes had calmed to a deep blue pool, but I knew that she was not done yet. “ You know what you have done wrong, that is plain to see. But there must be consequences. Signese Towers does not allow for such behaviour, and , according to protocol, I must dismiss you. You must go return to your dorm and pack your things, and say your last goodbyes.”

    “Yes, ma’am.” I said. There was so much more I wanted to say, but I was tongue-tied. After all, what do you say to a person who has just expelled you? It was all I could do to stop the tears flowing down my bright-pink cheeks. I turned on my heel and walked out of her office for the last time.

    I packed my trunk in silence, and , when I discovered that my roommates were at lacrosse, I didn’t bother to find them. I couldn’t face them. As I walked down those familiar floral-wallpapered hallways, I looked up at the fierce eyes of the portraits of successful Signese Towers alumni, and, for the first time, I don’t fantasize about being one of those women, gorgeous and clever. I would never be one of those women. I was a failure. A disappointment. A worthless nobody, who can’t even stay at the same school for 2 years. As I pushed open the huge engraved oak doors, I knew that I had to make a fresh start. I knew that I had to be a somebody.

    1. I meant to change the last few sentences, so here they are:
      A worthless nobody, who couldn’t even stay at the same school for 2 years. But, as I pushed open the huge engraved oak doors to the waiting automobile, I gritted my teeth. I knew that the next school was a fresh start, and I had to make it count. I had to be somebody. There was more in store for me, I was sure of that now.

    2. Really love the boarding school idea, and then the expulsion to drive the character forwards. I could see this being a mini series of stories too!!! The headmistress was just as I imagine them to be too. Well done Millie!!!

  14. Hi everyone.
    This is quite a long story, and a bit sad and a bit funny. It’s set about the life of a girl from birth to very old age in the future. And what folks go through as they age and work and the like. I hope you enjoy, and any feed back would be great.

    My life, so very long now, has been, has been full of resolutions. From the grainy black and white image of me as a baby, to the high-tech image from today, my 100th birthday, where every wrinkle and liver spot could be seen, well would have been if the photographer hadn’t enhanced the image so I once more had the skin of my youth, minus the spots of my teenage years.

    Of course we didn’t mean picture resolutions. The other ‘resolutions’, the ones most of us think of are those we make to ourselves and others; to do things to better ourselves and others, or so we say.

    I even had a resolution made for me it seems, well that’s what my mum said when I was growing up. Before I was born she’d made a New Year’s resolution that she’d have a boy as her final child, to please her husband. She had a girl, me, and my father would never let either of us forget that broken resolution.

    That seemed to set the trend for the following years. Each yearly my school report would say “must try harder.” I tried, and each year made a resolution to my father, to appease his anger and frustration at his worthless child. Each year I failed and was sent to bed crying.

    Come my late teens I made the resolution to leave home, to finally break free. That failed when the housing market rocketed and my wages from the salon wouldn’t pay for a garage let alone the rent, food, and half decent clothes.

    A decade later, my yearly resolutions to save, failed when I bought a car. A money pit, my father called it as he kicked it in disgust. And so it turned out, as each year it consumed in repair bills all I had saved.

    Time went on, and come my thirties, I had just enough saved to move away from home. Here too the resolutions fell like dominoes. I’d settle for nothing less than a three-bedroom semi-detached home in a nice suburb, I’d declared. But that was replaced with a by an anonymous front door and window in a rundown street where houses came cheap, cramped and the wrong side of town and the local motorway. I swallowed my pride and thanked myself that I was far enough away at last to be free and lead my own life. Then came the call that my parents were ill and needed my care and love. My freedom and chance to have a life, and dare I say it, even date, ended that day.

    Into my forties and parents and work meant stress took over. I resolved to worry less, but that seemed to make things worse not better.

    I hit my fifties, and redundancy loomed and circled the small salon I still worked at, like a vulture over a soon to expire antelope. I resolved each and every day and night to be better and work harder to prove keep my job.

    Years slipped by in a blink of an eye, and suddenly I awoke and depression seemed to be in full swing in my life. At least that’s what the doctor called it. Midlife crisis and menopause all rolled into one horrid beast that seemed to thrive on and devour all my resolutions to slim off the extra kilos that I had worried on, rather than off. Resolutions to eat less chocolate, drink less white wine and only have one slice of pizza were like fuel to the beast, and each and every one was broken on a Friday and remade the following Monday.

    Resolutions for the Spa Day break disappeared just like the spa brochure I couldn’t find. The longed-for Jimmy Choo’s and Chanel dress turned into sensible flats and a frumpy two-piece from M&S.

    The parents had passed on by the time I reached my sixties, and I vowed, which is a resolution too I guess, to be myself. To live my life and be free. The money I had inherited was to be my salvation, my key. But the economy dipped and the great ‘5 Year Virus’ swept Europe and made doing everything worth doing almost impossible. No more opportunity to travel the world, so I guess those were resolutions I couldn’t break.

    In my seventies, I resolved to write a book, a mystery adventure, but no matter how I tried to get published, the resolution got broken one way or another. A broken wrist, when I slipped at the seniors ballroom dancing, taught me that my resolution to be able to strut in high heels once more was doomed.

    Come my eighties I’d given up dancing, and resolved to just be happy, after all, to have got this far was some sort of achievement, right? Well happiness is not something we can control, and it seemed like all those things I had liked from years past and wanted to do and see again, had suddenly lost their bling, or seemed too childish and took too much energy. I sounded so like my own grandmother, which is another long-standing resolution I have broken. It turned to finding my old friends, those lost through time and circumstance, but their Facebook accounts had long since gone silent, or they had gone into care homes, or just plain old passed away.

    In my nineties I resolved, well, I can’t recall what I resolved as my memory is fading. I guess I probably resolved to write things down more, but then I can’t recall where I left the notepad half the time.

    Me, I still have my anonymous home, and the resolutions to move have long since turned to dust; maybe that’s what the dust is that gathers around me now, sent to haunt me?

    Now, today, on my one hundredth birthday, my cat – at least I think he’s mine – and I sit pondering. I have made a new resolution. I know this for a fact as I wrote a note on the back of the telegraph I received from the King. The note says: “Today, I resolve to try to be better in my next life……….”

    1. I don’t think the mystery is by Robin, but I believe it is written by someone else based on the books. It’s really good though.

    2. its really good thanks for sharing. theres also a murder mystery on the puffin website if you search it about a murder on a boat or soemthing xx its rlly gooid!!

  15. “As a spy, we need you to be on best behaviour at all times,” said Uncle Felix looking stern at his niece. “It’s my resolution to do so!” Daisy insisted even though everyone knew this wasn’t true. As her best friend, I know that if she says she is doing something the chances are very high that she isn’t. At that moment, I skipped in after listening closely to their conversation.
    “Oh Hazel,” Daisy said, “Why must you listen in to everything I say!” She always knows, I don’t know how but she does. “Uncle Felix,” she looked expectant but sounded smooth, “you need to tell Hazel what you just told me.”
    “I don’t think she can and will ever be as naughty as you,” he chuckled. Daisy looked indignant. “Don’t worry, it’s you who’s got the job, I dare say her father will not find the idea as appealing as you or I or even she will.” This was right of course, I don’t think my father will ever forgive me for nearly dying a fair few times. Although, over the past year he’s seemed to understand me better, which is progress.
    It took a while to get to know everybody but I think I’ve managed to fit in. Our job is to just ‘act normal but be different’ or that’s what Uncle Felix says. I think I will be good at that but Daisy less. Let’s just say that the power’s gone to her head. It’s all she talks about. After a full day at having to ‘act normal but be different’ I find it quite boring, not knowing what is quite to come the next day. Something so dreadfully shocking I find it hard to right down. On our first week as well. We woke up ready to do the same thing as we did yesterday, and that was how it was until the afternoon.
    Daisy was trying to tell me how true she was about her resolution when we heard a scream. We looked at each other as we had always done and ran over to the noise. I was in a shop, a bun shop to be precise. Due to it being her job (and me being a temporary assistant) we investigated. It was our favourite tea shop and Mrs Pennywiggle was meant to be on duty. But she wasn’t she was laying on the floor, still as rock. Stabbed to death.
    Nearby was a waiter who had been recently rejected by his girlfriend. Standing next to him was the manager, and a couple of feet away was a customer, not looking as sad as he should be.

    Who do you think did it?

    1. This is great! I love the fact that it is set in a bun shop too, which must have been a real joy for Daisy and Hazel! Hmm, as to who did it, I do hope there is a part 2 as I just don’t know?

  16. Wow I really like this prompt Robin and Neve! I’m really glad it’s now monthly because I’m just so busy with school, and otherwise I wouldn’t be able to do the prompts, which I was really unhappy about because I love writing them! I guess I can’t write stories and do homework at the same time! 😂

  17. Hi, this is my story on resolutions. I hope you like it!

    I resolve to always be sincere.
    I resolve to try my best at school.

    I paused, thinking of what to write next. I was nearly finished my homework, all I had to do was write a third resolution, and then I would be done. Simple, right?? Wrong. I thought and thought but could come up with nothing. In other circumstances, I would have just made something up, but I couldn’t break my first resolution already.

    I closed my book and stood up from my desk, stretching my stiffened legs. I stepped out into the hallway, pondering what to do next. I decided to finish my homework later and made my way towards my late grandfather’s study at the end of the hall. I used to have a special bond with him. I had been his ‘special girl’. I missed him desperately, so I had gotten into a habit of going to his study whenever I missed him.

    When I reached the door, I quietly opened it and slipped through. As I shut it behind me, the stale fragrance of his distinct cologne tickled my nose. I lowered myself into his old brown armchair. The soft leather pressed against my skin, it’s cooling surface comforting me.

    I closed my eyes and tried to bring back all the memories of grandpa. Memories flooded back to me, like the time he taught me to play guitar, or when we would watch old movies together. He would often repeat the same words to me, whenever he thought necessary. He would say ‘always be true to yourself and don’t let anything stand in the way of you reaching the stars’. I contemplated these words for a minute or two, then left the study to go back to my desk. I sat down and began to write. I wrote:

    I resolve to always be true to myself, and to not let anything stand in my way of reaching the stars.

  18. Hello! I finally managed to find time to write, thank goodness. Anyway, here’s my story:

    In her head, Astrid was sobbing. She was broken, shattered, crushed into despair, the little, jagged pieces of her heart embedded in her, tears flowing out of the wounds.

    On the outside, Astrid was stoic. Her face betrayed no emotion. Her body didn’t know how to handle such a shock, but her mind did.

    She was leaving.

    She was leaving Rose.

    Astrid sank into her bed, looking around her room at the gauzy curtains that did little to block the light from the windows, the pastel bedspread, the paintings on the walls. She’d lived here all her seventeen years, but soon, she’d be in… she’d be in France.

    Astrid’s mind almost burst. The tears in her head stopped, halted by this strange revelation. Astrid would be across the world, across the ocean. France was so far away from her America, from… from her Rose.

    Blinking rapidly to clear away the tears that had started to accumulate in her eyes, Astrid’s heart pounded and her throat burned. She flipped over, buried her face in her pillow, and let the tears spill out.
    —————-
    The cold of the day bit Astrid’s nose, stung her cheeks, froze the tears that pricked her eyes. She was walking to Rose’s. The last time she’d ever make this trip; she couldn’t bear to see Rose after she told her. This would be the last time.

    The cold didn’t bother her; after all, she’d leave it soon, and nothing could replace Boulder’s winter, Boulder’s snow.

    Or Rose.

    Snow accumulated in piles around her. The flakes fell, frosty and freezing, on Astrid, dotting her raven hair with specks of white. She knew her hair would freeze if it got too wet. She didn’t care.

    Rose’s house came into view. Astrid looked around, remembering the snowball fights they had here in the winter, the picnics in the warmer months, the tree-climbing and stargazing and all the happy memories.

    Her heart ached for those memories, ghosts of two girls who they once were.

    Astrid came up to Rose’s door, and lifted her mitten to knock, but before she could, the door opened and someone barreled out.

    “Astrid!” shouted Rose, squeezing her around the waist and dragging her inside. “I was just about to call you! I was thinking about our letters, and I…”

    Rose bounded up the stairs, chattering, and Astrid took off her snowy, wet things. They went into Rose’s room, and Rose fell onto the bed as Astrid took her seat on the carpet, the scene so familiar.

    A wave of… something hit Astrid, hard. It felt like… nostalgia, or sadness. Then she realized: she was homesick for Rose, even though she hadn’t even left yet.

    Listing her head, Rose asked, “Astrid, what’s wrong?”

    Astrid bent her head, letting her long hair touch the carpet. She looked so different from Rose: she possessed olive skin, black hair, violet eyes, while Rose had short, curly caramel hair, fair skin, and sparkling green eyes. Rose was bubbly and a little outgoing, Astrid was secretive and withdrawn. They complimented each other perfectly.

    “I-” Her voice faltered. She’d come here to tell Rose the truth, and nothing but. It didn’t mean that the truth wasn’t hard to bear. Astrid took a deep breath, and spoke. “I’m moving.”

    Up on the bed, Rose didn’t make a sound, waiting for her friend to continue.

    “To France.” The words felt like a blow, even to Astrid, who’d received the news days ago.

    The silence was still, tension filling the space between them. Until Rose broke it.

    “You’re kidding.” She paused, waiting for Astrid to confirm it. Astrid didn’t move, or speak. “You’re kidding! Astrid, please tell me you’re kidding.” Her tone turned pleading, desperate for an answer.

    Astrid didn’t look at her. She just shook her head.

    “No… no. Astrid, you can’t!” She leapt off the bed, and tipped Astrid’s face up, surprised and saddened to see it streaked with tears.

    “Oh, Astrid.” Her voice was heavy with sorrow, weighted down by despair.

    “Rose,” Astrid croaked, her name sounding like music even spoken by her scratchy, tear-filled voice. “Rose, I’m sorry.”

    “Your mum.” Rose was crying now, too.

    “Yes.” Her mum’s stupid job. France. Astrid couldn’t even think of it anymore, it hurt too much. But it was all that she could think of. And Rose.

    “I hate her.”

    “No you don’t. I do.” Astrid didn’t. She just hated her descisions.

    “Astrid.” Her voice took on a more serious tone.

    Astrid lifted her head. “Rose.”

    “Promise you’ll never forget me.”

    Astrid looked into Rose’s eyes, her beautiful, green eyes, eyes that she may never see again. “I promise.” She couldn’t ever forget Rose. She wouldn’t. Rose was everything.

    The embraced, two best friends. Two souls, two girls against the world.
    —————-
    The End

    1. That is wonderfully descriptive and filled with emotion. I could really feel the winter weather. I like how she says that she hates her mum but then knows she only hated her decisions. Well done Astrophysics!!!

  19. I just found a murder most unladylike mystery you can solve on https:\\ww.penguin.co.uk/articles/children/2018/ murder-most-unladylike-quiz.htr it’s really fun!

      1. Thanks so much!! I did it and I got it right it was miriam. I guessed it because no one would find it suspicious if she had heart medicine for her father!! thanks so much for this detective society forever

  20. This is my story I hope you like it.

    “So what’s you’re new years Resolution?” Billie asked me “don’t have one” I said “Can’t be bothered”. “Aw come on Sophie, I know you’ve been down since you lost Lucy but-” ” but what?” I interrupted ” How would you feel like if you’re sister died?” “Look I know you’re sad but Lucy would have wanted you to be happy. Besides she’s in a better place now.” I couldn’t stand Billie moaning about this so I agreed. “I’ll go on a run each day like Lucy did” I say and Billie smiles.

    Six months later
    I never thought I’d get this far but I have. I have done so many things in the last few months. I went on a charity run for the hospital, I joined the school athletics club, I donated my pocket money to charity and I cycled from Glasgow to Edinburgh. Mum specially took us to Scotland for that☺️.

    A month later
    Billie’s oldest sister Emily has just been diagnosed with cancer. I’m trying to cheer her up. But it’s not working 😞. I know what it feels like. I remember very clearly when Lucy was diagnosed with cancer. Sadly she…is not with us anymore. I hope Emily gets better.

    2 years later
    Emily got better and I’m happy for Billie. Since I wanted a haircut anyway I donated the hair I had cut off to Emily. I am happy now. And and know Lucy would have been happy for me to. My new years resolutions hasn’t just got me more active. It’s also made me a better person☺️.

  21. Hi! I haven’t written a prompt, or anything really in ages. But I have promised myself that I’m going to take my passion for writing seriously now. Here is my story, I’m not really sure how long it is but anyway. Also it’s not really a resolution, but to the end of it I guess it it! Enjoy, all feedback is welcome. Also wrote this pretty quick so soz if parts don’t make sense.

    I’m sat on the moss, the leaves the twigs and the dirt, my legs crossed. I peer around at the bulging trees surrounding me and only see my mind, so dense and complicated. I am so lost in myself that the world seems to drift away so that it’s just me, and my broken thoughts. My eyes slowly glaze over and I know tears are coming. Though I am alone I squeeze my eyes shut, not wanting to cry. But they only come easier, I jerk my eyes wide open and let a sea drain out of me. I cry silently letting each drop fall onto the ground below me.

    Soon no tears can come and I am left emotionless sat still in a forest.

    I sit for a while, observing and watching. Then anger rises so suddenly I am left unguarded. I scratch and pull at my boring clothes , i hate them. I pull and twist my hay-like hair, I hate it. I squeeze my plump thighs, I hate them too. I dig my fingers into the cool soil and wait till my rage has passed.

    I slowly start to wander through the maze of trees. My feet kick rocks about on the ground, but I’m paying little attention. I am so lost. So, so lost. Suddenly I scream. I scream without reason. I scream without a heart. I scream without a sense of being. I scream till my lungs hate me and my throat is dry.

    Now I’m left, everything aching, stood still in a forest.

    Eventually I take a step then another, and another. I’m into a rhythm now. My feelings are distant and all I can think about is my steps. One after the other. I place myself down upon the foliage, making a neat circle to sit in. I am now calm and I have regained my steadiness. I breathe in, and out. Why did I have to be like this? To feel everything so deeply, yet not care about anything. It was a curse. And I had promised myself so many times to change. But this was me, so in-touch with I mind – I lived there.

    1. Theres so much going on here, lots of emotions and eloquently written. It’s great how we come into the story where we do, and leave where we do; it makes it just the right length. Brilliant, Savannah!!!

      1. Hi Erin! Thanks for your feedback, I’m glad that it wasn’t too long and not too short since atm I’m trying to write a novel and getting the timing to introduce a new science is very difficult. 🙂 thanks!

  22. Hi this is another resolution story. Its based on daisy and hazel older.

    This is an account of how we found out the most exciting news. This is the honourable dausy wells account of how IT happened!

    I woke up to hear someone clattering in the kitchen. It was Hazel and she was up dreadfully early. She was having tea and she looked rather pale. “You ok”. I murmured as Alexander walked out of their room. “Fine feeling a bit sick” Hazel replied. Then we went off to work. We were called to the great Lord Featherstones house and his maid had been murdered in the yard. I walked over. “Blunt force to the rear side off the head looks like it was done with something ….. I think it was a rake”. I turned to see Hazel dreadfully pale and miraculously she was sick. I know when its nerves but this just was not that. I took her home to Alexander and George. “she has been sick and I think something is dreadfully wrong with her” I told the boys. Hazel insisted she was fine and argued until she was blue in the face. Then she crawled into bed and fell asleep.

    I think I know whats up” said Alexander. One second. He walked in. I heard quite whispers and then he walked out. She will be ok. Thats all he said as he rushed off to pick up the christmas decorations. Hazel looked dreadfully peaky all across christmas until new years when I finally figured it out. I walked into the kitchen to get a squashed fly biscuit and half the packet was empty. It was rather infuriating. “HAZEL AMINA!!” I called “YOU HAVE EATEN MY SQUASHE- oh my god”. I can not believe I missed it. This was the answer to why Hazels feet was swollen she was constantly feeling sick and she had eaten my biscuits. Only if I knew earlier!!

    At the dinner that evening I decided a perfect way to tell Hazel I knew. I led her to a quite corner and asked her New years resolution. She replied “Umm to be a better detective”. Slowly I answered with “Is it not to be the most wonderful mum?” She went bright red. ” HOW DID YOU KNOW!” She drew all the attention to her. Eventually everyone turned away. “How will I tell them?” !I know” I said. I asked everyone there new years resolution she said ” To be a great mum”. Everyone jumped for joy. Alexander hugged Hazel, George and Lavinia did a celabration dance AMina hugged me and Kitty and Beanie squealed. “Your going to be a great aunt” Hazel said. Then the clock struck midnight and we all celebrated.

    Apparently its a girl and they are calling it summer. This is because she is Hazel and her sisters are May and rose flowers and seasons. She said it was because her favourite daisys were picked in summer. “But im your absolute favourite” I teased.

    Summer is now 3 and very beautiful. More pretty than even the great Daisy Wells Hazel says.

    Thanks for reading please share your thoguhts

    1. So cool that this is Daisy and Hazel as adults, and that Hazel has Summer. It would be so much fun if we get to see them both detecting like decades from now 🙂 Well done Neve!!!

  23. I’ve been so busy this month with getting back into school! It was also my birthday on the 13th and then it was my mum’s birthday the day after! I will hopefully have time this weekend to write a story for this prompt, I have an idea in mind already! 😄

  24. Here is my story. I hope that you enjoy!

    Ellie shivered in trepidation as she made her way across the cobbles of her town. Her destination? Probably the creepiest place ever: her town’s very own haunted house. Stepping forward she resisted the urge to pull her invite out of her bag and look at it. She had already memorised it.

    Meet you know where at midnight tonight.

    Accompanied with it was a hairbrush, the same one she had thrown on that night. At that girl.

    “Ellie!” A voice called in amazement as she entered the house. “We are all in here.” She was pulled into the room and finally got a good look at the person who had been speaking: her best friend Julie. Taking in her surroundings she noticed six other people sitting on a long sofa.

    “Just great it’s Ellie.” Liv Minetown sighed. “ Who would have thought.”
    “Shut up Liv.” Ellie’s other friend Mimi cried.

    The other four all sat together awkwardly. Myla Townton, Neena Malb, Emily Hearton all kept staring at each other and then at Liv and Mimi. The other one (Tina Milesowm) stared straight ahead, appearing not to see anything. It was one of her more creepier aspects. Ellie was surprised that there seemed to be such a random selection of people here tonight.

    The door suddenly gave a jerk and clicked together just as the lights turned off. Within seconds they were on again and Liv ran to the door, shaking it eagerly with an enormous amount of determination, crying “It’s locked! It’s locked!”

    “Umm… Liv we have bigger problems than that.” Ellie stated staring at the projection on the wall.

    It was a photo. Eight actually combined into a collage. A hairbrush and the name Ellie; a crumpled ball of paper and the name Julie; a text app logo and the name Liv; a pen and the name Mimi; a maths test and the name Neena; a mirror and the name Emily; a post it note and the name Tina.

    The room fell into chaos. Ellie stared at the projection in horror. Julie sat down and rested her head against the wall. Liv started screaming. Mimi burst into tears. Neena kept saying “No” over and over again. Emily started to shake. Tina’s eyes widened dramatically.

    “It is funny how one collage can cause such a reaction, isn’t it?”

    The room went silent as everyone turned to stare at the voice.

    Sally Silicone smiled. “Guess what? I’m alive.”

    Ellie hadn’t seen Sally since that night exactly a year ago. She’d been standing almost exactly where she stood now. Calm and unconcerned, but then this had been Sally’s home hadn’t it? Her living room. Her house. Her parents’ house, But that had been before the fight. Before the moment that Ellie would remember for the rest of her life. Ironically, that had been her New Year’s resolution: to forget that night.
    “You’re dead. You have to be!” Liv screeched.

    “Sorry to disappoint but I’m alive and tonight I’m going to expose to everyone all of your secrets from that night. I’m here to complete my resolution. Tonight I’m here for revenge.”

    1. Ooh, this is so good! I love the way you have tied resolutions into an otherwise fascinating plot, and I can’t wait for part two. Brilliant job Niamh! (Also you have chosen the best name for your character! Ellie’s are the best!)

  25. Eight people, eight secrets and maybe one ghost with vengeance on her mind – and all in a locked room together! Wow, I just have to know how many make it out later on. Brilliant!!!

  26. Hello, I have written a story for this prompt and I really love the idea so thank you Neve, it was great thinking of you, I loved everyones stories and really wanted to say thank you to Robin and all of you because all of your stories have always been so fun and interesting to read in lockdown and the prompts have given me something really cool to do during this period!

    It was late on new years eve and Arnold was struggling to feel happy, only the day before he had thrown three little 9 year olds into a rubbish bin. He had been at it for a while and now throwing kids into dumpsters had basically become a hobby, but he did not like it at all, everyone thought that he loved being mean, they thought that whatever the occasion, he would never be nice. The truth was that Arnold had no friends, he was the loneliest boy in his school and taking all of his anger and sadness out on kids hid the fact that he was so very unhappy. Arnold’s dad died when he was very young and he had no brothers or sisters!
    Arnold was sitting on his small bed, crying and thinking of all the horrible things he had done in the last year when someone knocked on the door, Arnold got up to let the person in, it was his mum.
    “Have you been crying again sweetie?” she asked
    Arnold nodded guiltily and looked at his feet.
    “About what?” asked the mother again
    “Dad” replied the boy looking very guilty now, knowing that he shouldn’t have ever lied to the one person who loved him.
    “Oh dear, come hear” she said, pulling him into a tight warm hug
    “Now what shall we do, it is new years eve and I do not want you to spend it locked up by yourself in your bedroom” she said smiling!
    Arnolds mother pulled him down the stairs and brought him into the brightly lit kitchen, then she gestured for him to take a seat. She walked over to the white kitchen counter and placed two crystal glasses on the wooden surface. Then she walked over to the fridge and picked out some raspberry cordial that she had stored at the very back for special occasions, then she picked some lemons and took two straws from the cutlery door beneath her!
    She placed the lemon pieces and the straws in the glasses and filled them both up with bright pink cordial. She put the drink under Arnolds nose and sat down on the chair opposite him.
    “Happy new year” she said holding up the glass
    “Happy new year” said Arnold clinking his glass against his mum”s
    “I resolve to only drink wine at parties and special occasions, I know I have not really respected that rule of mine but I guess there is still time to change” she said
    “Do you you want to do a resolution dear” she asked
    “Um no thanks” said Arnold
    “Well it’s been a rough year hasn’t it Arnold!” She said smiling so sweetly that Arnold felt guiltier than ever!
    Then suddenly he burst into tears, covered his face in his arms and ran quickly up to his bedroom, he lay down on his bed and sobbed, until he heard soft pattering feet come up close to the door followed by knocking. He didn’t get up to open it, he wanted to be alone, he knew that sooner or later he would have to tell his mum what he had been doing during the school years and how he was frightening small kids, he thought she would be very angry and upset.
    But the door creaked open anyway and his mum came in and sat on his bed, stroking his hair.
    “Honey, whatever you are sad about or whatever has happened to you, you know you can always tell me, we will get through it, together.” she said.
    “Have you been bullied at school, is someone being mean to you, are you teased?Tell me darling”
    she said again still stroking him.
    “You don’t get it do you?! I am not getting bullied, I am the bully, I punch people, I am mean to the first graders and I throw them into garbage cans! I am so so sorry!” he said tears spilling from his eyes.
    Surprisingly his mum didn’t yell and didn’t leave, instead very quietly she sat there and shushed him and stroked him. Arnold sat up and hugged her, he hugged her tight, tighter then ever!
    “Honey, you should have just told me, I love you no matter what, and although we will have to tell the headmistress about this and maybe give you a break from school, it is still new years eve, or at least for another 40 minutes and you really have to put this all behind you and just have fun.”
    “So here is to a bright new year that holds changes for you and for me and for everyone.” She said raising and invisible glass to the air!
    “And here is to my new years resolution: no more bulling, I promise that this won’t happen again and that I won’t go near another garbage can if it is not for putting out the rubbish” said Arnold raising his own invisible glass to the air and feeling, at long last, liberated.

    1. Really like that you explored the reason Arnold bullied and how he talked about it, resolved it and made a resolution to be stronger and better. Brilliant. 🙂

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