Search

Rainy Day's Books, Video Games and Other Writings

Tag

writing challenge

Flash Fiction Challenge: It Was All Just a Dream

For Chuck’s Flash Fiction Challenge, the writer is challenged to write about something that scares them. While I have a couple fears that could easily be fun to write about, I’ve decided on one I know really is a part of my character: not being able to protect those I love from harm. 

It was midnight once again when I found myself still struggling to go to sleep. I thought I’d be able to go to bed now, but my eyes refused to close. I know I’m tired and need this sleep so I can get up for work in the morning, but I just can’t seem to close my eyes. No matter what I do, my body refuses to rest. I feel hyper, like I’ve taken a sip from an energy drink I never bought. Almost as if I could stay awake for the rest of the night. 

Finally after what seemed like many hours later, I felt my eyelids droop. I could hear the sounds of my restful breathing as I inhaled and exhaled the air around me. It was peaceful and comfortable in my bed to the point where I could hear my mother snore from her room downstairs. 

I drifted into a dreamless sleep for the next hour. Then all of a sudden, I was having a nightmare. In this horrible nightmare, those I love were being harmed in some way or another. And there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it. I felt helpless as I found out my best friend was dead and watched my mom and sister being hurt right before my eyes. I tried reaching out to my loves ones in this dark nightmare, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. 

Then all of a sudden, I’m lurched awake from these terrible visions. I wake up, tears streaming down my face with no recollection of what just occurred. All I know is that my dreams were of the people I love being taken away from me, but can’t remember anything other than feeling completely helpless and hopeless. I feel like I’m being punched in the gut, yet can’t find the cause of this type of violence against me. 

It takes quite awhile for me to realize what I just saw in my sleep was all just a dream because it all felt so real. So real, like it actually happened. 

So real that even when I’ve finally calmed myself enough to go back to sleep, the tears are still streaming down my face with no sign of stopping. Because while it was all just a dream, it’s something I truly feel could happen and it scares me. 

Terrible Minds Flash Fiction Challenge: Seven Deadly Sins

Inspired by Chuck Wendig’s blog post on Terrible Minds, I’m going to write a fictional story about a man named Jack who embodies all seven of the deadly sins. I’ve never done one of these flash fiction challenges before so I’m really interested to see how this goes.

 

Hello, my name is Jack. And I am going to hell.

I know everyone has heard of the seven deadly sins: lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy and pride. They are the sins that determine ones place in the deadly underground known as hell.

Unfortunately, I’ve been blessed with the unlucky curse to embody all seven.

Lust whispers in my ear at night whenever I get into bed, asking me if I’m really going to go another night without a pretty woman in my bed. I try the best I can to ignore this voice, but it never goes away. So at night, I’m out, enjoying the nightlife and looking for another woman to add to my notch belt.

Gluttony slaps me in the face every time I eat. It asks if I’m really done eating that last plate. Whispers, are you sure you don’t want any more? like a lost lover. So I always go back for more until I’m sick with disgust at what all I’ve just eaten. But I still go back anyway, knowing I’m going to regret it later.

Greed can be found in all of my latest purchases. I shop like a woman at the mall, buying all of the latest and greatest gadgets for men. Even things I don’t need I purchase, knowing I’m not going to use them but feeling the need to have them anyway. I know I don’t need the money anyway because I make plenty of it.

Sloth follows me around like a lost puppy every time I go into work. I hate my job, so I make myself look busy around my coworkers. But once their backs are turned, I go back to being unproductive. I spend my work hours doing nothing but stare at my computer screen, wishing the day was already over so I could continue with this unproductivity back in my lonely apartment. I hate work and I hate life so I don’t see the point in doing anything productive anyway.

Wrath buzzes around in my head like an angry bee every time I drink. I’m an alcoholic at heart. Alcohol is the only thing that can numb my mind until I can feel nothing at all. But it also makes me aggressively angry about everything. So I take my anger out the best way I can: smashing and destroying everything directly in my path. This normally means my precious possessions get destroyed in the process, but I make plenty of money anyway and objects can always be replaced.

Envy is my best friend. I feel it with every fiber of my being whenever I see other people laughing or having a good time. I have no interests or hobbies other than drinking, sleeping with beautiful women and buying expensive things with the extravagant money I have at my disposal. I have so much, yet own nothing worthwhile. And wish more than anything for something more. So I’m envious at other’s fortune in life.

Pride comes as a reminder that I do have a lot in life. Look at all of the things you own, it whispers quietly in my ear. And pride is right. I do have a lot of nice things in life. I mean, how many men can say they have the latest and greatest things life can afford? How many men can buy the best alcohol money can get you and buy as much of it as there’s available? How many men can have sex and eat as much as they want and still go back for more? Pride hits me whenever I’m at my lowest, reminding me of all of the nice things I own and saying that I’m lucky because not too many people have what I do. And pride is right. Pride is always right.

Hello, my name is Jack. And these are all of the reasons why I am going to hell.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑