Saturday Story Starter

Happy Official First Day of Summer!

That’s right, June 21st, also known as the Summer Solstice, is the longest day and shortest night of the year, and the gateway to fun in the sun. It’s that time of year when I happily open my backyard office (aka The Adirondack Chair, or sometimes, if I’m lucky, The Hammock), and move my writing work outside.  Oh yeah!

And this year, the Summer Solstice also happens to coincide with June’s Saturday Story Starter.

As those of you who have participated before know, Saturday Story Starter is purely for fun, just as a way to exercise those writing muscles (think of it as Heather’s Literary Gym). There are no prizes, only the simple joy of putting words on paper (well, OK, computer screen). Also, I won’t be offering critiques, just brief words of encouragement, but I will read all your entries, that I can promise! (And if you’d like to read some of the earlier stories that have been shared, click here and here and here and here and here and here and here to browse to your heart’s content.)

Before we get started, last month I promised you a real story to go along with May’s picture. Remember what it was?

Aunt Reb on Nantucket
This is my great-great-aunt Rebecca — or “Aunt Reb,” as she was always known in our family. She lived to the ripe old age of 105, all but the last bit of it on her own steam, in her own home. What a firecracker! She was my great-grandmother Sarah’s sister. They grew up, along with eight other brothers and sisters, on Nantucket island, off the coast of Massachusetts. Sarah and Reb were both redheads, and everyone on the island called them “those red-headed Smith girls.”

Rebecca was born in 1883. This picture of her was taken when she was about 16, right around the turn of the last century.  I love how feisty she was, even then. I can imagine that it wasn’t considered very ladylike to ride a bicycle in 1900, even on freethinking Nantucket!

I also love the local color in the background — the sailors, the boats with their resting  sails, and the American flag flying from the mast on the right. I can almost smell the salty breeze, can’t you? I love it that Rebecca is right in the thick of things there on the wharf, too. Her father, my great-great-grandfather, ran the livery stable on the island for many years. Maybe she’d ridden down from the family home on Center Street to visit him.

Tip of the week:  Family photos tell stories. YOUR stories, stories that are part and parcel of who you are. Old photo albums are treasure troves, especially if you can get a parent or grandparent or great-grandparent or great-aunt or uncle to tell you the stories that go along with them. Write them down!  And be sure and write down people’s names, dates, locations and tidbits on the back of old photos, so future treasure hunters will be able to piece the stories together, too…

OK, onward to our Story Starter.  Here’s this month’s photo:

Mistake House May 2014

Isn’t this a FABULOUS building? This is what I WISH my backyard office looked like!  (That’s me, lurking in the bottom right corner, vigorously wishing.) And yes, there’s a story to go along with this picture, but you’ll have to wait until next month to hear it.

Tell us about this house. Where is it located? Who built it? What does it look like inside? Who lives here? What do they do for a living?  What events has this house seen in its day?  Tell us its story…

Ready, set, WRITE!

70 thoughts on “Saturday Story Starter”

  1. I’d do it today, but alas I’m going to my grandparents house, and thus, I cannot. I catch you tomorrow gals!!!


  2. My best friend Natalia and I are walking along my property, 40 acres big. We have a house that we designed ourselves, it’s huge, my sister and I got to design our room and decorate it. We have 3 different cottages scattered on our property. 1 is the guest house, the other is my sister’s play house which is the size of a 2 bedroom apartment, and my “hang out room” is about the size of a 3 bedroom apartment complete with a kitchen.

    My friend Natalia and I have been friends since 3rd grade, both of us are in 8th grade now. We are both homeschooled, So we spend a lot of time together.

    “Come on!, Silly!” said, Natalia. This has been her nickname for me since 4th grade. “silly” My name is Star Lily. She put them together and, well, she calls me silly!

    “I’m coming!” I call back.
    “Let’s go to the garage!” she says.
    “OK lets drive the helicopters!”
    “Ok but I’m driving this time!,” Last time you drove it we ended up in Italy!”

    I sigh. It’s true, that was one of my “accidental adventures” as I like to call them. We wound up in Italy after I miss-read the map and we were stuck there till we could find some gas for the helicopter. We did get to meet, some famous chefs that prepared a meal for us it was delicious!!

    “OK fine you drive, but I choose where we go next.”
    “Fine where do you want to go?”
    “Uh oh” Natalia says,
    “I KNOW that gleam in your eyes!” “Where are we going!?” “Tell me what your up to!!”

    Let’s go to….


    (wait for part 2!!)

  3. Hey, Adriana with the purple pattern, I was wondering, in an early story starter, you did the term, “Happily upset.” May I use it in my Titanic story????



  4. sweet, my story will need some thought so i’ll get back to it soon, i actually just got back from vacation so i might need a bit more sleep

  5. I am walking along the street, pushing my cousin Sophia’s stroller. She is turning 2 today, and I wanted to show her where I live. Well, Sophia started pointing and saying, “out, out!” I looked and saw the second most beautiful house in the world. Of course, we go inside. When you walk in you first see hardwood floors and stairs. To your left you see a small living room made of rock, with just a rug, piano, and wonderful pictures lining the mantel. “Pa!” Sophia yells pointing to a photo. “That’s not Pa”, I say. I look at the photo. “Oh wow”‘ I say, ” this house was a slave hold house” “huh” Sophia questions. ” oh,” I reply, ” you’ll learn about that someday in school.” Next to the rock room, there was a dining room combined with a kitchen. Everything was made out of dark wood, and there was only a small brick stove. If you go back to the starting area, you would go upstairs and see 5 pretty bedrooms, with an attic that held many escape areas. We got to go through the tunnels. Then we heard footsteps, and out came a man. “Who are you?” I asked. “I am Fredrick Douglas’ great great great great great grandson. “Wow” I say. I think I gave Sophia a great birthday present.

    (I really do have a cousin named Sophia and her birthday is actually this Friday.) thank you for taking your time to read my work.

  6. “Emily, the car is here!” Mom called. Emily was a twelve year old girl who wanted to be a reporter. Sometimes she took it too far and that was what put her in danger. “I’m coming mom!” Emily called back. Emily was typing away on her laptop and she didn’t want her mom to know that she was still a long way from being ready for school. She grabbed her back pack and a small purse because she wanted to look good. She was going to school with her best friend Lindsay and her best friend was fashion obsessed so she knew she would make her change. After changing more than a dozen times, she was finally ready. She gave a quick hug to her mom and grabbed an apple and rushed outside. “Hey Lindsay, I love your hair!” Emily exclaimed. “Thanks, do you want to go shopping with me after school?” Lindsay asked. “I would love to but I am going to my grandma’s house after school,” Emily replied. “You mean Clara Watsworth, the famous author?” Lindsay asked. “Yeah but she is retired now,” Emily replied. “I hardly ever visit her and I have not seen her new house,” Emily said. “I know and you want to check it out because you think there might be a story for your newspaper article,” Lindsay stated. Emily had started a newspaper called The Express and she was always on the look out for new ideas. Finally after what seemed like forever, school was over and it was time to see her grandmother. “Emily, don’t forget to ask your grandma for an autographed copy of the last book she ever wrote,” Lindsay called to Emily. “Okay Lindsay!” Emily said. When she arrived at her grandmother’s house, she was greeted by the butler. “Hello Charles, is my grandma here please?” Emily asked. “Yes and she will be with you in a moment,” Charles responded. “Hello honey,” Ms. Watsworth/grandma greeted her with a hug. “Hi grandma, can I take a look around the house?” Emily asked politely. “Sure sweetie,” grandma replied. Emily rushed upstairs and searched many rooms until she came upon the perfect story. She found old diary in that house and she was determined to find out an interesting story in there. “Dear diary, I have been hiding in this house for a few weeks. I am waiting for Harriet Tubbman to come back. I need to ask her so many questions. She is the only who can lead me safely throughn the Underground Railroad. She is helping many people but I need her reasurance. Oh no! I need to go to sleep. Tomorrow we leave at the crack of dawn if we are going to escape from slavery without anyone catching us.” Sincerely, Emma Watson Oh my goodness! This was the perfect entry for Emily’s article. She just needed to find out what her ancestors had done to help the African American slaves escape from slavery. “Grandma, can I ask you a few questions?” Emily questioned. “Yes dear,” grandma responded. “I found an old diary and this girl named Emma Watson talked about hiding her and I wanted to ask you if you know anything about her?”Emily asked. “I do, your great grandma was friends with Harriet Tubbman and she helped hide her and all the slaves in this very house,” grandma said. “So this house was a safe house used to hide slaves?” Emily asked to make sure she hadn’t missed any details. “Exactly,” grandma replied. “Wow, that is so wonderful and I am going to write this down and make it a great story,” Emily said. “Honey make sure you have enough facts before you write your article,” grandma adviced. “I will and thanks grandma,” Emily said. A few weeks later, she had her first article piblished and she was thankful to her grandma, her grandma’s house and Emma Watson for making it all possible. The End

    • that was sweet, you know that a famous actress is also named Emma Watson, what’s really cool is my full/ real name is Emily and I want to write for a living. So that’s awesome

  7. Hi Miss Heather, Just a warning, I’m going to post long comments because I an idea for a story I got from a fanfiction website….. :0)

  8. “Someday, My prince will come!”

    I roll over and stuff my pillow into my ears once more. When I had asked to watch a movie, I hadn’t exactly meant Snow White. But, my sister refused to watch Air Bud, to whom I owe the words that it’s my favorite.
    I try to close my eyes and fall asleep, but Snow Whites high voice keeps wakening me. My Mother says I should watch Snow White, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Sound Of music, etc. She says it’s a great way to listen for our past. “Proper Literature,” She says. (More like proper ear deaf)
    When I had woken up with pneumonia two days ago, the doctor had said I should get plenty of rest. How can I do that when I’m Hearing Snow white’s squeaking voice? Truth be told, I can’t.
    I finally drift off to sleep. I dream of a merry little cottage far off in the woods. All my troubles (And snow white) are forgotten. Peace has finally settled in my heart, (And plugs my ears).
    But then, I wake up to the dwarfs talking. (What Nuisances they are!) I groan and flip over. I catch sight of something at the edge of my vision. It’s the merry little cottage, but this time it’s real.
    I blink.
    I blink again.
    I blink a third time.
    Suddenly, it disappears.

    “How I wish I can bring it back again.” I say in a soft whisper. Suddenly, that gives me an idea. Something, I’m not sure I can do.


    Ten minutes later, I’m sitting in the sun room painting soft strokes on a white canvas. The Cottage is starting to come into view. I paint a flower her and there, and add every bit of light that I can muster. The sight at the end is thrilling. After all the years of trying, and trying, and trying to succeed in painting, I finally got there,just by listening to my imagination, and not worrying about what others will say, or how they will make fun, or even how it looks. I like it just fine.


    “And the winner is……” Everyone falls silent in the art auditorium. “Sadie Brooks!”
    I jump up from my chair as my family and friends crowd around me. ‘I WON!’ I want to shout. (Of course, I don’t. That would be cowardly.)
    The announcer hands me my golden trophy, and my grande prize. 100,000 dollars. “I’d mostly…” The announcer smiled. “Like to say, If you are O.K. with it, The Queen of England would like to pay for your Collage schooling, in three years, in exchange for your painting. She’d like to hang it in Buckingham Palace.”
    My mouth drops open. The floor falls from under me. MY PAINTING? IN BUCKINGHAM PALACE? I never would have thought my imagination could take me this far, but it did. And, you know what? Maybe Snow White isn’t so bad after all. And…. I think I wan’t to look into Sound Of Music. I hear it’s very good……
    I nod and smile, to happy to even say, ‘thank you.’
    All because I painted the Cottage, I get to go to UFM, the collage I only dreamed of going to. But hey, maybe dreams really do come true! *

    Thanks for reading!!!!


  9. my family tried making our own taffy, the first batch was a mess, it was so disgusting, it was really sticky and overly sweet, coming from a girl who can’t do many kinds of fruit(not allergic, just hate the sourness of some of them, including I rarely eat strawberries without sweetener. Then don’t certain apples either) what was funny is it was lemon, I think our mint should be better though

    “sorry, this isn’t really a story, just thought it would be fun to share for those of you who like taffy” it’s not as easy as it looks or sounds if any of you have read “the candymakers” by Wendy Mass, good book

  10. I wake up to the sound of my favorite bird’s first song of the day, a robin. My mom says I can whistle just like them. I stretch and take my time realizing it’s Saturday, in the middle of the summer. I race down the turret stairs. The turret is my bedroom. As much as my parents hate it, I slide down the banister to the ground level floor. I squeal quietly when I hit the end. As expected I get my scolding when I reach the kitchen. I swear she has ears like an owl. I sit down as Cynthia, one of the triplets(I’m a part of the set too) enters towing Gracie(the last one)behind her. Next come Joe and Dan(twins), Livy, JoAnne, Sophie, and Rose(quadruplets) follow them. Then finally, last but very much NOT least, Joy, the oldest of us Woodlyn who lagans. I admit it, we’re nuts. Mom flips plate after plate of pancakes, one almost misses the plate. I’m usually close to the end of the line, considering I’m the second oldest of the bunch. So I go downstairs and grab a pair of jeans, a tank, and a pair of athletic shorts from my dryer. We each have our own dryers considering the amount of laundry we have. I get back upstairs without waking the dogs, all four of them. My plate is filled and has boiling hot maple syrup dripping from the stack. The pile reminds me of the sleepover I’m having tonight for some reason. It’s my best friend’s birthday. Plus it is the first time I’ve ever been to her house. She thinks I would be scared. I mean it’s an old house but really, I’m almost sixteen years old, I’m to old to get scared. Although her stories about it kinda freak me out. Once I finish my pancakes, I eat two plates full, I run back upstairs to get to the bathroom first, first one in the bathroom gets the warmest water. I get there first. I grab the fluffiest towel out of the closet after I lock the door and jump in the shower. The water is soothing against my dry skin. I stayed in mush too long, I decide scaling up my scalding red skin. I slip on the tank and shorts. I pick up the jeans to take to my room. As I slide out the door and past my mad sister I grab the blow dryer and curling iron to make all my sisters mad. I don’t ever use them, don’t need too. I have thick, wavy, auburn hair and keeping the water in it 1) does my hair some good(They would burn and dry up my hair, in the bad way) Then 2) it feels good wet. I do towel dry it a bit though. I go back upstairs and leaf through my closet for something “decent”, as my mom says, for pictures. I land on a light green, mid forearm length sleeve, and collared shirt to go with the jeans for the family pictures. I add a navy blue a few minutes later. For single pictures I pull out the only dress I own. It’s a red halter dress. The hem ends just above my knees. I fit my silver flats with the first outfit and a pair of my black converse with the dress. I have literally a billion pairs of converse. Trust me this is my style. I throw on my grey converse to go with my Knights(school mascot) tank and the black shorts I have on. I run back down the stairs looking for my makeup. I find it as I’m going down the stairs, on the back of the door handle in a bag. I always keep a pack of spearmint gum handy in it, tic tacs too. I reach in for a piece but find something sift stuck in a wrapper. I start to pull it out. What could it be?
    “To be continued”

  11. Wow! that’s a great story! I can’t wait to see what happens! I hope we can chat sometime! You seem really nice! is your nickname Ems, because that’s mine1 my name is Emily too!

    • sorry, that is actually one of my many nicknames, I probably literally have thousands, I have several for each person in my immediate family, and besides me that includes eight people

  12. The sound of the car door slamming was the only sound aside from the chirping of birds as Lauren climbed out. She stared at the house towering above her and let out a barely audible sigh.
    It was a nice house, that much was true. It had a certain character to it. That didn’t change the fact that Lauren didn’t want it, she didn’t want to be anywhere near that house and if it weren’t from the insisting of all the people closest to her, primarily her mother, she would be at her home instead of hours upstate.
    Lauren locked the car and headed for the house. Even her boss had thought it was a good idea for her to take a break, a vacation to “gather herself”. Lauren wished he hadn’t. She wanted to drive to work and then return to her small apartment, eating a steaming hot Budget Gourmet while clicking through TV channels, too tired to do anything else. She didn’t want people staring at her, like there was something…wrong.
    But ever since Lauren’s breakdown at work her apartment had been taken away from her, and when the voices hadn’t left her, had only gotten worse, she’d been shuttled off to her grandmother’s former home.
    Entering the house, Lauren breathed deep. There wasn’t a musty smell of disuse, but instead the smell of paint and lemon furniture cleaner.
    She remembered the old caretaker of her grandmother, and after her demise, her grandmother’s house, Eduardo. He was supposed to be there, as indicated by the open door. Lauren made her way to the kitchen, taking note of the dark hardwood floors and polished furniture.
    Upon one step into the kitchen, Lauren realized one thing. It wasn’t that Eduardo wasn’t present, nor that there was a note sitting on the counter. It was that, stepping into the kitchen, the voices had stopped.
    Lauren grabbed the edge of the counter. They were gone, they were actually gone. She’d always heard voices; they’d gotten progressively stronger, but she’d always heard them.
    In a way it was similar to those, “Walk a Day in the Shoes of Someone with Cardiomyopathy” medical commercials. People suffering from the heart disease always suffered palpitations and shortness of breath, but because they always had, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Lauren had always heard voices without knowing where they’d come from, but until they became more persistent and frightening she’d never thought of them as unusual, nor had they affected her everyday life.
    Until then.
    The shock began to wear off and Lauren began to relax, reveling in the sudden silence. She picked up the note, one from Eduardo welcoming her and saying he would be back in awhile. Lauren smiled at the kindness.
    She’d originally resented the idea of moving to her grandmother’s house, but if it was going to be this silent, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Lauren began to wonder, about her erstwhile grandmother she heard little about.
    It was her grandmother on her mother’s side that Lauren had only met once and held no memory of. To her as a child that was fine; she had her grandma on her dad’s side who made the best blueberry pancakes and used china teacups whenever she was around. That had been enough for Lauren.
    Becoming an adult she began to wonder more. She knew the basic facts about her other grandmother, how her husband had gone off to the army when Mom and her mother were younger and had never come back. Lauren knew that she crocheted like a madwoman and what she created was anything anyone would ever get for Christmas. She loved lemons and particularly lemons in her iced tea. But that was the meat of what Lauren knew. Her mother avoided talking about her, handing out facts that were evenly spaced from one another.
    And all Lauren had to infer from was what she had overheard her father and mother talking about while she was staying with them, shortly before Lauren had come to the house. Her father had been objecting to her going, questioning if it was a good idea “after what had happened to Helen.”
    After that Lauren had backed away; even at 23 eavesdropping on her parents seemed wrong. At the time she’d only hoped her father would win the argument as her own feelings on the matter appeared to hold no sway. Now she cared less about being sent away and more about what had happened to her grandmother.
    Lauren looked down at her note again before deciding to ask Eduardo whenever he got back.
    She stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, and like a literal manifestation of the phrase ‘hit me like a brick’ all of the voices returned, all at once.
    Lauren knocked into the side table, one hand clutching her head, and paid no attention to the crashing of books and magazines to the floor. She collapsed onto the couch and felt despair set in, the same despair she’d felt as she tried to quell the voices, under the stares of everyone she knew.
    “I’m not crazy.” Lauren whispered. She stared at the mirror mounted above the mantel and repeated the phrase, trying to give it validity.
    “No, you’re not.”

    • Wow – I’m totally hooked! Great running start — characterizations, descriptions, hook with the “voices” –well done! Love this line, too: “Her mother avoided talking about her, handing out facts that were evenly spaced from one another.”

    • that’s really, really good, you are really, really talented, now I feel like I have accomplished nothing in the literary field, although I’m only twelve

  13. PART 2

    “Mmmm, these are good!” said Natalia. “What is in this again?” she asked. “They are tacos alpastor, these tacos are not ground beef they are. They are made with pork that is marinated and slow roasted on a spit.” I say. “They are de-lish!” she says, I smile. Natalia’s eyes are sparkling the way they always do when she is happy. Natalia is really pretty, she has emerald green eyes, long blond hair, and super super, red lips. She hardly needs lip gloss or lip stick. I on the other hand have, dark chestnut brown hair and big chocolate brown eyes and soft pink lips, we are both really pretty but in completely different ways.

    “So, where are we going?” Natalia asks. “We’re going to the ancient city of teotihuacan., We are going to climb a huge pyramid there called the pyramid of the sun. It’s the 3rd largest pyramid in the world!” I say. “WHOA, But I forgot my walking shoes!” Natalia wails. “No problem, use these,”
    I give her a pair of cute light pink skater shoes that are stylish and comfortable. They go well with her outfit, grey skinny jeans and a white tank top with a light pink hoodie.

    “WOW” says Natalia an 1 later, “This….sure is….a lot of…walking” she say breathless. “Ya… I know.” I reply also breathless. “But don’t worry, I have been here so many times, I know it like the mall gurl.”
    1 hour later——
    “This sure is nice,” I say. “It sure is,” Natalia replies.
    “It sure was worth the walk up here.” I laugh, “It sure was.” “Hey!, what’s that thing over there way off in the distance!” I squint to take a better look. I laugh , “I forgot i brought my binoculars.” I take the out of my purse and look through them. “What do you see?” Natalia asks. “Oh it’s just the mexican flag.” I say. “Do you know what the shield on the flag means?” I ask. “Nope., what’s it mean?”

    “well, according to legend, our ancestors, the aztecs, were told by the gods to establish a city where they find an eagle perched on a prickly pear tree (a cactus) eating a snake.” “wow, i bet that doesn’t happen every day!” Natalia says. I laugh “Ya, but they saw it on a swampland of what is now, Zocalo, the square in Mexico city.”

    “That’s so cool” Natalia says. “And how come I don’t see anyone sleeping under a cactus with a big sombrero on their head?” “Because what most people think about mexicans, isn’t really true.” I reply. “oh” she simply answers. “Lets go back home” I say. “I’m starving”, “Ya me too” she says.

    On are way back home in the helicopter, I see the slightly yellow grass turn into an to a slightly less yellow shade of grass, since in mexico and southern california is pretty warm most of the time.
    Once we start to get closer to home, I notice the yellowness of the grass starts to get greener. And it spreads all over beneath us like gossip told by quaint little chickens in a cartoon.

    Over all, it was a really good day, no “accidental adventures” this time. The highlight of the day was the view from the top of the pyramid. We did do other suff like shopping and ate lunch with selena gomez. Just a usual tuesday, but the view from the pyramid was by far the best. I can imagine what it was like in the days of my ancestors. And seeing natalia’s eyes shine the way they do when she is happy, just truly utterly happy. And seeing tourists eyes shine in the same way, and i feel a warm glow inside when i think how many people appreciate my culture and love and cherish it as much as i do.

    I am truly glad to be mexican.


    I hope you all enjoyed!!! Please give me some feedback! 😀

  14. As I pull it out it starts to ooze icky pink goop. I finally get it out as much as I can, although it leaves a rather nice blob in my BRAND NEW purse. I look at my evidence, not much that I can confirm except that this is some kind of candy, because it smells sweet. I try to pull the rest out but it just sticks. It can’t be gum cause I never put my gum back in it’s wrapper after it has been chewed. The next thing I conclude is I didn’t put it in there. I do find a gooey note stuck in my purse.
    ‘figured you could use some to seal up your music. I hope this does your audition well. And that it doesn’t soil it.
    Lots of love,
    Your secret admirer’ I groan, by now the boys should know that I don’t keep almost anything in my purse but my make-up, and most definitely not my music for any kind of auditions. Or anything that means the world to me, that could change my world forever. Although they did a good job of messing up my make-up. ‘Great,’ I think to myself as I look to see if any of my stuff has been spared from the disturbance of the goop. I pull out the mascara, no use, the case is covered in it. so is everything else in the bag, minus my breath mints, tic tacs, and gum, that I keep in a special compartment that is not visible. I really don’t want to borrow any of Joy’s make-up, too much, nor any of the rest of my sisters, same reason. I’m the most laid back of all of us. Seriously if I weren’t getting my picture taken or something special like that I rarely wear make-up. I drop all the contents into my trash can, they were really close to empty anyway. I pull out my suitcase from the closet and open all my drawers and open the closet. I pull out everything and put it onto my bed. I open the suitcase and fling it down next to the clothes. I pull the case from under the bed that holds all my shoes. I pull out several outfits and stick them into the case. The result is not the best but I spice it up with shoes and random accessories. I then pull out my backpack and jam it with random stuff too. I’m about to zip up them both up when I remember that I’ll need pjs. I pull out my tank and shorts then my thick and thin pairs of other pjs. So I’m fit for all occasions. I zip it up then throw my pillows onto the top of the load. I grab the pale pink wrapped box out of my desk drawer and slide it into the side pocket of my backpack. It’s for Riana, it’s a brand new locket to add to her collection. I pull out my other new purse and transfer my gum and stuff to it then sling it onto my shoulder. The boys won’t get to it this time. I go to my parents room and grab my extra stash of brand new make-up from where I hid it in the top of the closet. I use it for these occasions. The stash makes it’s way into my purse. I close the closet to make sure no one knows where I hide my extra make-up at, if anyone knew that would be a disaster, I mean my parents know but no one else. I slip back out as quickly as I can so as not to disturb the peace that seems to rest in this room right now. I do take a glimpse in the mirror before I leave to make sure that my hair looks okay. Oh, I guess that I forgot to put my hair up. I go back up to my room to put it up. I haven’t packed my hair stuff or my earrings yet, shoot. I grab the brush as I zoom past the dresser heading to the mirror. I sweep it up in a few strokes leaving a few curly wisps out of the clip. I put the brush and supplies into my bag that I’m going to take to the picture place since that is going to change too. I pack up that stuff and douse my make-up onto my face. I pull like ten different pairs of earrings from my jewelry stack. I place those in a bag and slide that into the other one. I grab my clothes for pictures and pack ’em up. One stroke down my face with spray on moisturizer then I’m finished. I heave my bags down the two flights of stairs and into the car trunk. I finally relax when I hear a sudden gasp aimed at me.
    “Don’t tell me that is what you are wearing,” Joy shrieks. I roll my eyes.
    “Of course this is what I’m wearing,” I reply sarcastically.
    “Well, at least your hair and face look okay, not like we will be seeing much of the rest of you.” Gosh, can she not understand sarcasm. Her point in saying that is I’m taller than everybody else so I’m usually in the back, I’ve always been really tall. Currently I’m hardly not reaching six foot, like within one sixteenth of an inch. She leaves the room when I ignore her. I get the same reaction like a million more times. The only one who catches my sarcasm is Gracie, and that is just because she can hear my sarcasm every time I say something “girly”. She nods in approval.

    “To be continued” (again)

  15. Hello everyone!!! So this is set in “whish you where eyre” from cassidy’s POV she is still making up her mind about tristan and zach. I hope you all enjoy!!!



    I sigh, I have been moping around the house all day, trying to make up my mind about the whole tristan zach thing. I would rather have this talk with courtney but I JUST CANT WAIT THAT LONG!!! I need to talk about it with someone and i need to talk to someone now! Remembering that moment when i thouht about having this conversation with stanly, I figure i might as well go and ask. I would ask my mom but she’s at yoga class. Walking up the stairs i fell like i have cement bags on my feet. Stanly is in the turret with chloe. Before i walk in i take a deep breath. “Uh, stanly?— do you have a moment?” I ask. “Sure Cass, what is it?” He answers, while putting chloe in her play pen. “Uhhhmm- i need some help with something” I say. My cheeks are proabably a tomato red by now. ” sure, what do you need help with,- homework?” “Uhm nooo.” Might as well get this over with. ” i need some advice on…… Uh…..on….. boys” i wince at the word. Stanly seem at a loss for words for a seconed. But he quickly recovers, there’s an awkward pause for a seconed. “Whaat do you want to know” he asks a bit causiosly. I spill my story to him, and its surpriseingly easy, but still emberassing. Befor i finish i pause. “And on top of all that there is one other thing, zach is kind of a sloppy kisser.” I can practically here my cheeks burning. Stanley snorts. “How would you know? Its not like youve been kissed before to know a comparison” he says. “Uuhhmm” i hesitate “YOU HAVE HAD SOMEONE ELSE KISS YOU!!???!?—- who was it?!!! Kevin mullins!?!” I have to choke back a laugh at that. “No” i say. “Then who?” “Uhm Tristan?” I relply stanly stares ar me for a moment then bursts out laughing. He laughs so hard that the top of his head turns to a shade between red and hot pink. “Well you have quite a little situation on your hands dont you cass?” I nod glumly. “Well all i can tell you is this, dont base who you like better on how they kissed you, compare on how you feel around them, who is easiest to talk to, who makes you laugh, and who understands you. ” i stare at him where in the world did you get that advise from!?” “I was watching opra the other day.” I stare at him ” really stanley?” I ask flatly. “Well, wrestling was supposed to be on!” “Thank you stanley” i give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Is head goes all rosy the way it does when he’s happy. “Thank you for being here for me stanley.”

    Cassidy and stanly 1000000 points

  16. Part 4

    I shrug when she nods. She shakes her head then leaves. I finally heave myself out of the beanbag and walk out to the car. I slide into shotgun before Joy gets outside. As I figured, when she does get out she groans at me. She sure looks sleek in the dress she was wearing, not as good as I was going to look though, since I hadn’t gotten changed yet. She jumps into the other side of the front, in the driver’s seat. I know she has her license but I thought mom was driving us. she sees my reaction and laughs as she jumps out and pulls open the door of the cab of the truck. She closes it behind her and drives off. I scoot over in the seat so I can close the door without slamming it on my hip like I usually do. Trust me it hurts, I have plenty of bruises to prove it. The rest of them jam into the back. Okay we do have two minivans and dad takes the other one filled with the boys and Rose and JoAnne. That leaves, in the van I am in with Cynthia, Gracie, Livy and Sophie. We drive out as soon as mom jumps into the front seat. She eyes my tank as we back out though. Then I explain that my stuff is in the back. She nods. We get to the picture place and we hear that we are doing the family picture first. I run into Joy as I head to the bathroom to change. She shakes her head, still thinking that I am wearing what I have on currently. I slip past her and pull on the jeans, shirt, and blazer. I check myself in the full length mirror before I leave. I slide back into the room and remove and switch my shoes for my flats. I hang the bag with the other outfit on a rack. I follow everybody into the photo area. The photographer arranges us then after like forever takes the picture. I grab my bag and change as quickly as I can cause we are doing individuals from oldest to youngest. I freshen up my makeup by applying more blue to my lids, clear stuff too. I leave the bathroom just as my name is called. I run over as I lace up my shoes. The photographer once again lines me up and takes like literally a million pictures, its like I’m a model or something and she is the paparatizzi. finally she says I’m done and I go grab my casual clothes and change into them. I grab a magazine from the stack while I wait to go home. About five minutes later joy grabs me and says that she asked mom if she could smuggle me over to Riana’s house so she can talk to Louis Anne, her neighbor, she’s in joy’s class. I get up and go with her.

    I’m gonna have to stop for now, my little sister wants her turn on the computer. this isn’t the end though, that’s for sure

  17. That’s so awesome, Daisy!! I love how you did the “score” just like at the end of all Cassidy’s chapters. 😆

  18. Hi everyone!!! I am soooo exited! I have just been HIT by sudden inspiration to write some MDBC fan fiction!!! So i am going to write a story about, What I think Happened after Emma’s break up with Stewart! Told from Stewart’s POV (Point Of View) I hope you all enjoy it!!!



    I AM SO MAD RIGHT NOW!!! I can’t believe Emma would do something like that!!! I storm back to the middle of the field where my dad is also dressed in the minute men costume. I glance back at Emma and her friends. She is standing just where I left her, Except she looks as pale as a Ghost. I am in no mood to join in the re-enactment today, instead I ask my mom if I could go home. It seems as if she can tell there is something wrong because, instead of using her usual loud booming voice, She says “Of course Stewie” I wince when she calls me that, She calls me that when she is trying to be all “motherly” with me. I would much rather be called Stewart.

    When i get home no one is home,– they are all out at the re-enactment– so i stomp all the way up stairs to my room as loud as i can. and slam the door to my room shut.

    I stay at the entrance of my room. slightly dumbfounded and confused. Dumbfounded because i cant believe what just happened, And confused because i don’t know what to do with myself. I just stand there. I realize i am staring at a picture Cassidy gave me for my birthday. It’s of me and Emma, sitting on the graveyard bench, the night before she left, to England. We look so happy there, I think sadly. “Stop it chadwick!” I scold myself. “You are not going to think of Emma!!”

    I go to my bed and lay there staring at the ceiling. My thoughts wonder off to think about the boy she kissed under the mistletoe. Was he tall? Was he thin? Was he smart? Was he a jock? Was he blond or did he have dark hair? I feel something in my eye, I reach up to get it away. when it touches my hand its wet. Hmm. must be my contact eye drops. “Face it Stewart!, Your crying!” I sigh. I cant help it. Emma was perfect for me. Except when she goes around kissing people! I fell like maybe she was telling the truth, but then again she should have told me when it happened!!

    My mind wonders off to the time i first visited her house as not just her friend but her boyfriend…..

    1 year and a half ago……..
    I knock on the door, while waiting someone to answer i take a deep breath in and let it out. “Don’t be so nervous Chadwick!–, you’ve met Mr and Mrs. Hawthorne Before, They are perfectly nice!”
    Expecting Emma to answer the door Darcy and Kyle do. They have there arms crossed across there chests, Looking at me without smiling. “Uhhmm… is….. Emma home?” I ask nervously.
    “She’s in her room getting ready.” Says Kyle.
    “Ya, she wanted to put on make up before you got here or something girly like that” says Darcy
    “Oh” I say. Great! Just Great! you are making yourself look like a chicken! i think to myself.
    I wait by the staircase looking up to see if i see Emma.
    “No Boys aloud up in Emma’s room” says Mr H. I nod “OK”

    The Hawthorne’s invited me for dinner and a movie. I originally asked Emma to go to the burger barn with me and to the movie theater, to go watch the new movie “Frozen” The one she has been gushing about wanting to see. But they asked me to go to there house instead.
    Present time

    My thoughts are put to a halt as I hear my family come in. “THE NERVE OF……OF….THAT MAN!!!” i hear my mom say. Uh oh. that cant be good. I go downstairs to find my moms face a hot pink color, my sister looking slightly pale, and , my dad looking annoyed. “What is it mom?” I ask. She tells me about Mr. h’s book. i have to try not to laugh. Because it does sound a lot like her, not that i would ever in a million years tell her that.
    4 hours later

    After staring at the ceiling forever, i finally get up and do something. i go to my desk and get ready to write a poem.

    I usally HATE those songs of guys singing about there break ups and dud relationships, but i feel like writing about something like that.

    I title my poem “THE PERFECT GIRL IS GONE”
    just writing that sentence breaks me down.
    I start to cry. tears of anger and saddness roll down my face.

    I Hope you all liked it!!

  19. I’m standing outside our new house, It’s a beach house, We just moved here from Kansas and already I’m missing our cozy little condo. We traded our cozy condo for a HUGE beach house on the cost in LA When my daddy won the lottery jackpot. It’s a nice house and all but I’m going to miss home. By the way, my name is Marbella. Marbella Star. I’m 14 years old with long curly deep brown hair and chocolate brown eyes. I’m an only child, but I do have a dog. Her name is Baby and she is a pure bread-prize winning American Akita.

    I enter our new house and take a look around. it’s an old house but the remodeled it and it looks like a new house, with light wood flooring. All the walls are a baby blue and all our furniture is white and all the wood furniture is a deep deep brown color. I find my room and Open the door to reveal a GIGANTIC room! it has a balcony looking over the sparkling turquoise ocean and the gleaming white sand on the beach. it beautiful. I look around the room some more, I have my own bathroom. cool. I open my huge walk in closet and scope it out, I go to the very corner of the closet and just as I’m about to leave my earring falls, I lean down to pick it up but that’s when I see a small handle. I sit on my knees an look at it for a long moment. I finally decide to open it and when I do I expect for a little drawer to pull out but instead a HUGE door opens up. whoa. wasn’t expecting that. the tunnel looks like it goes on for miles!

    This Place Got Slightly More Interesting……

    Whoa. That’s a big tunnel. where does it lead to? I take 3 steps and there is a door to my right. I open it & stick my head out and….weird. I’m at in the down-stairs bathroom. What the what? I just took 3 steps? I close the door and take a few more steps about 10. there is a door to my left this time. I open it and…. im on the beach? this. is. REALLY. weird. I run back up the tunnel passing the many other doors that lead to who knows where. I don’t think I’m ready to see what’s in there yet. I get back to my closet and close the door behind me. take a deep breath in, and out. in. and out. whew. We’ll see what other secrets this house reveals after dinner. but for now I need to change.

  20. I WOULD put mine on here, but it’s four pages long :p It’s a bad habit of mine, making stories too long. But great prompt anyway! xD

  21. My head spins as I stare out into the seemingly never ending crowd. My heart starts beating as tears brim my eyes. I just embarrassed myself in front of the WHOLE school. I quickly run off the stage as my maxi dress slows me down. My mom sees me and I mouth the words “villa in silvis” to her. A quick nod follows as she detects our secret code word.

    Villa in Silvis means woodland cottage in Latin. I stop as my eyes shift to my destination. It was a beautiful, vintage wood house that was the size of two kids rooms. I feel in serenity for a second before the memories kick in. We were having our annual talent show at school. No, I’m not that perfect blonde girl who is super rich. My name is Karly Phan and I actually have super dark brown hair.

    I was diagnosed with extreme anxiety when I was just a kid. I am now and 8th grader. Most kids are diagnosed around the age of 14 but noooo, I just had to have an anxiety attack when I was in 2nd grade!! My heart starts racing as my body turns cold even in the exhausting summer heat. Not another one, I internally complain!

    My face is quickly covered in my salty sorrows and before long I hear footsteps. A cold piece of cloth is placed on my forehead as my mom rushes to my side. “Your going to be ok” she whispers sounding unsure herself. I weakly smile at her and she gives me a hug.

    “So, tell me what happened! I wasn’t there and it’s best I know if you want to get better!” she says, the cheer in her as real as the mini christmas tree in my room. “Well, I went on stage and the music started. At first, my voice was fine. It flowed out like a river on a calm day. Suddenly, my heart started to pound and I just burst into tears! I can almost see the “CRYBABY” title underneath my name in high school!

    My mom just hugs me and tells me she has a suprise. I interrogate her until she’s finally ready to spill.”I talked to the owner of this land” she says directing her hands around the many empty acres of land,”And we talked a little, so now this cottage is yours.” I nearly jump up and punch the nearest tree but instead just settle on screaming.

    She puts a key in my hand as I walk closer to the premise, admiring the different materials used for the building. The right half was lined with bricks that looked like they were pulled from the three little pigs. The left half had stone lining it and stripes lined it as well. It was beautiful and mine. I stare at the key in my hand before walking to the perfect door and slipping the neatly carved end into the matching keyhole.

    I heard a satisfying click before opening the door like you fall asleep. Slowly then all at once. I admired the empty room seeing potential in every corner. With a few cans of paint and some furniture this place could be perfect. Smiling I open the door…… No one could take me down at this moment I was free for a second like a bird let out of its cage but knowing it could be shot down any second.

    I could climb the highest mountain and fight the strongest man, but not for ever. I am not perfect, I have my flaws….. But everything about me makes me who I am. Perfection is like hate. They are both thrown around when really nothing is pure perfection or pure hate. I smile before walking to my mom. “Let’s go” I say with a grin, “We have a future to build within that cottage.”

    I hope you like it!! If you get the “I closed the door like you fall asleep, slowly, then all at once” reference the I give you props and a HUGE thumbs up.

    • This is great, Kay! I love the line: “It flowed out like a river on a calm day.” Pure poetry. 🙂 Well done!

  22. I know… I already wrote one but I couldn’t help it! I had another sudden burst of inspiration! I hope you enjoy it!

    They say in the movies that one day your prince will come. That one day you’ll live in a castle and the only thing you have to worry about is witches. I love this story as much as the next girl… but it’s just not the truth.
    I stare at my fathers graves as tears start to form in the eyes. My father wasn’t the most perfect man of course but he was my father after all. I finger his name, JOSHEPH HARTLEY, another sob racks through my body. My name is Tara Hartley and I am 23 years old.

    This isn’t the story of a lovestruck teenager as you can see so far. I walk to my car, pale as a ghost when a tall, blonde girl bumps into me. “Hey! Watch where your going, GHOSTY.” I wince and open my mouth but instead shrug it off. I reach my car and sit there crying for what seems like hours. Why did my father leave us? Why did he have to have a road rage problem?! He just had to get mad at the other driver and start a road fight!

    Now I was angry. I slipped my key into the perfect hole and start the engine. “Say something I’m giving up to you. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t get to you” I turned it off, this was not the song I needed right now. I tried again and got a better song this time. I started to drive slowly calming down before all the emotions came back.

    Tears blurred my vision and anger built up.. As tall as the castles in the movies. My knuckles turn white and my grip suddenly releases on the wheel. The last thing I hear is ” She’s as fragile as glass but just as dangerous when broken…” bursting from the radio and a single siren.
    I transport to a white room with no one but a man sitting with his back to me. “Excuse me sir but can you direct me to the way out?” I ask the man. “Princess?” His voice shakes. He turns around as I start to feel faint. “Papa?” I weakly smile. “Tara, princess. What’s wrong why are you in- in, heaven?” He asks me nervously. “Papa, I’m scared. Wh-why am I here? Am I gonna die.”

    “No” he says sternly “I will not allow it. Your my princess and you have so much more in your life.” I smile halfheartedly, “But Papa, I think I already died?!” He just stares at me, “I know it’s only been a year since I passed but you need to accept it. And don’t go around trying to die, Princess. It’s not your time yet.”
    I wake up suddenly in my room. Combing my short blonde hair. It was all a dream! I smile and expect to see a perfect girl in the mirror but instead see a girl connected to a tube. I turn on the radio,

    “My happy little pill, take me away.. dry my eyes, bring colour to my skies.”
    Happy Little Pill – Troye Sivan.

  23. Time for another round of “GUESS THE MDBC CHARACTER!!!”

    1. I smiled as we walked pass, once again, a beautiful England cottage. I was with all my friends from the mother-daughter club I once upon a time thought was lame. We countinue walking and a specific one catches my eye. Wow! It was just sooo perfect! I take in the beautiful asymmetrical pattern and the cozy cottage feel. I take a picture of it before reaching into my backpack and pulling out my________.
    So a little twist this round!! You have to figure out both the missing word and the person!

      • Oooo…. Nope! And I realize it may be a little hard so I shall give you a few hints:
        •the missing word is 1word
        •the initial for that word is s*
        •and it has double letters in it

  24. COULDN’T FIND A CENTS SIGN ON THE KEYBOARD SO I USED THE DOLLAR SIGN INSTEAD. Is it Becca? notebook? Or maybe Megan? sketchbook?

Comments are closed.