Daily Writing Prompt Thread Thingy It'll Be Fun

[Eroica]

"If you thought you were going to die, how would you escape?"

This is bad writing, whipped up in a matter of 10 minutes and based on a real-life experience of something that happened to my friend.

Spoiler: "If you thought you were going to die..."

One of these days, I don’t think I’m going to die. I know I’m going to die.

It’s one of those things about life that is certain, like taxes, and every choice I make seems to lead closer to the end of life. I remember the day when everything changed, and all the days that came before then, when A----- would kiss me good-bye in the mornings before I left. She’d always preface her statement with something like “Be safe, S----. Don’t get yourself killed.”

And what do I do? I charge ahead blindly, not caring about anything but the work I’m doing. Building skyscrapers in the city, towering monuments in the downtown of L-----. So focused in my work, I don’t bother using safety equipment.

I guess I should’ve been more careful, now that I think of it. At least I gave my kids an inheritance early.

My ankle and foot are shattered now. I’m bedridden. Can’t even fulfill obligations anymore—to my family, to my wife, to my friends. I was planning to leave this room, but the pain—oh, the pain. A----- keeps telling me it could’ve always been worse. She’s right. I could’ve died.

Oh, what a blessing that would be. But it doesn’t come yet.

Maybe God is telling me to be less reckless. Maybe it’s his way of telling me that I should care more about my family instead of my work. What did I give all those years of broken bones and surgeries for? Deep down, I know it was for them.

Maybe that, that is how I escape death, at least something premature. Stop treating myself like a mule, and look up—at the family who loves me, at the wife who will always be with me, no matter what. Now, I’ve made my decision. Once my ankle and my foot heal, I’m going to retire—for good this time.

And the first thing I'll do after that is give my family the love and attention they deserve.

 

[NC_Quail]

But, but... it's writing. You wrote it. And you shared it. Then you get to see how it grows, and share that growth with others. If you really want to look at it, we're all bad writers but we're sharing our writing and that's what makes us good writers. If we never share our work, then we're basically not writing at all because it doesn't exist anywhere outside of a notebook that simply could be rained on and the words never remembered by anyone.
We're all enjoying sharing and reading each other's work, no matter how good or bad it is. It's there. The characters are there and the story is as well, and that's what makes us happy. If you can, please share your work because we'd all love to read it!

Thanks for the encouragement, Lacy. Sorry for getting all whiny on you.

 

[Lacy Duckwing]

Thanks for the encouragement, Lacy. Sorry for getting all whiny on you.

It's all good. I get it. I can get pretty down on my work sometimes too. We just need to keep at it because good ol' discouragement likes to keep us down.

 

[Lacy Duckwing]

"If you thought you were going to die, how would you escape?"

"If you thought you were going to die, how would you escape?" Crusher snapped his claw shut.
I slid up, the rough wall tugging at my shirt. The Crusher turned his claw, opening and closing it slowly, and watching it like he was remembering the terrors he had done with the weapon. Tearing through walls and sinking the claw into innocent- No! The thoughts had to stop there. He was better now. And kinder. I think- hope? I don't know! The Crusher opened his claw and snapped it shut again. A smile crept up onto his face, and he eyed me.
"Y-you think they're going to kill us?" I shoved my hands into my pockets. If he was thinking about killing me, maybe that'd distract him.
"They might," Crusher tilted his head.
Enough with that phrase! I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut and scream and pull out my hair and run and... I don't know what else! Turk, calm down! Flipping isn't going to help anything. I sighed, hoping I didn't choke on the stale air shrinking the small room of nothing but chairs sitting against the blank wall.
"Do you think," I glanced at the floor. I wanted to keep my stare there, but the Crusher liked his eye contact.
"What?" Crusher said.
"Do you think they killed him?" I said, my eyes now searching. "And they didn't tell us? I mean, really, he couldn't have just disappeared unless he jumped off our ship and dr-"
No. No, that couldn't be it. It just couldn't. The Crusher was lying... or was he? My mouth fell open, and I closed it as quickly as I could. That...
"What are you getting at?" Crusher opened his claw and stepped forward.
I pushed myself off the wall, my knees quivering. "You said the captain jumped off our ship with your passport and drowned! That wasn't V-"
The door swung open and two officers entered. One stood by the door and the other marched my way.
"You checked out, American," the officer handed me my passport. She turned to Crusher. "And you, no. We're taking your ship and until you can hand us some true facts, you'll remain in our custody."

 

[Isabella7Storm5]

"If you thought you were going to die, how would you escape?

I’m reeeeaaaalllyyyy sleepy but I coughed this up and it’s vague and bad but whatever

Spoiler

“If you thought you were going to die, how would you escape?”
“I would try to kill th-“
“wrong.”
Electricity burned its way through my spine, commanding my muscles to malfunction and I fell to the floor.
“If you thought you were going to die, how would you escape?”
“I would k-“
Again, I was punished.
“If you thought you were going to die, how would you escape?”


Smooth and cold, I absentmindedly rolled a shell casing between my thumb and index finger.
The dark metallic walls beyond my gaze were blurry as I relaxed my vision.
Twenty-three…twenty-four…twenty-five-
A small shudder reverberated through the floor beneath me.
I stopped fidgeting and held my breath.
Perfect.
I took my feet off the desk and placed them firmly on the floor.
Find yourself in uncertainty.
The door behind me buzzed and slid open.
Face the storm. Let it find you.
I heard a shout from behind and the click of a chamber.
Become as one.
I grinned and held my hands in the air.

The answer was never an escape method, it was never anything to do with skill or strength.
You let it come, let it think it’s won, and learn from it.
But I’d been doing a whole lot of that for too long and besides,

I liked my answer better.