The Free Style Writing Challenge

Thank you, Asil, for the interesting challenge! This was really fun and I’m thinking of making this a weekly thing…

Rules: 

1. Open a blank Document
2. Set a stop watch or your mobile phone timer to 5 or 10 minutes, whichever challenge you prefer.
3. Your topic is at the foot of this post BUT DO NOT SCROLL DOWN TO SEE IT UNTIL YOU ARE READY WITH YOUR TIMER!!!
4. Once you start writing do not stop until the alarm sounds!
5. Do not cheat by going back and correcting spelling and grammar using spell check (it is only meant for you to reflect on your own control of sensible thought flow and for you to reflect on your ability to write with correct spelling and grammar.)
6. You may or may not pay attention to punctuation or capitals.
7. At the end of your post write down ‘No. of words = ____” to give an idea of how much you can write within the time frame.
8. Do not forget to copy paste the entire passage on your blog post with a new topic for your nominees and copy paste these rules with your nomination (at least five (5) bloggers).

Disclaimer: I did not cheat. I set my timer, opened a new document, then looked at the word. I just happen to type really fast. And I tend to abuse the backspace key cuz I hate spelling errors. I think I missed a couple towards the end because I was rushing to finish… Whoops… But yeah, so no flame comments please.

What I wrote:

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SUICIDE.

Word: Random

Time: 10 Minutes

Words: 477

It seemed completely random; an arbitrary litte detail that one might easily forget. It passed by me in the blink of an eye, hardly noticeable in the bright sunlight, then disappeared.

But I saw it.

I saw the look on her face. I saw the somber expression in her eyes as she brushed past me, her head down. I saw the way her pink lips contorted into a grimace, the same face she makes when she’s on the verge of tears.

I saw. I saw it. That random expression. That unusual look on her face on that random day.

I didn’t understand it at the time, not until it was too late.

The next day, she wasn’t at the school. I tried her home too, but there was nobody there. I tried calling her, but she never picked up. I left a voicemail, but she never heard it.

The next day, people began talking. Rumors spread like wildfire, burning the entire school to the ground with their venomous content. I didn’t want to believe them–

No–

I couldn’t believe them.

My brain refused to comprehend the words. Even as the announcement came on the overhead speakers, my brain refused to listen. It couldn’t make sense of the information that tried to come in through my ears. It tried to make sense of the random jumble of letter spoken by the principal on that horrible, horrible day.

“Leyla is dead.” he said, or, something like that. I don’t remember because it didn’t sound like words then. It didn’t sound like anything.

“Her parents found her on the river bank that morning. It appears she drowned.” Those were the words I heard at her funeral a week later.

I knew they were lies.

There’s no way Leyla would have drowned. There’s just no way. She’s the best swimmer in the school. She would be able to fight against any current that came her way.

Except, maybe, depression. That’s what the rest of the rumors said: that she was battling with depression. Some believe she committed suicide, that she drowned herself.

I can’t believe that. I just can’t. Were it some random girl at the school, someone I only passed in the hall from time to time, I’d believe anything. I’d believe all the rumors without bothering to stop and question which ones were treu and which were false.

But this wasn’t some random girl.

This was Leyla.

Leyla; my best friend. Lelyla; the person I knew best in the whole world. Leyla; the person who could get through anything and would let nothing bring her down.

It’s Leyla who lies before me, buried six feet under the ground. It’s Leyla’s gravestone that I see before me. It’s Leyla who’s gone.

“Goodbye, Leyla.” I say as I remember that random expression, the last one I ever saw on her face.

And I am challenging…

Owlivia

*Starlight Daydreamer*

The Chaos Within

Consider Subtlety

Ver Les Etoiles

Word: Telephone

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3 responses to “The Free Style Writing Challenge

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