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You bought an ouija board online to communicate with spirits. However, you didn’t realize that in a moment of complete and utter stupidity, you had accidentally ordered a Luigi board.

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You stared out into the white flurry of snow, watching it pile up on the drifts already at least four feet tall. You let out a long sigh, slinking back onto the bed and laying your head down. It's so cold. There's no one around for miles. Everyone hates you.

No one told you being a Yeti was going to be this lonely.

(Inspired by starting out the classroom windows at a snowstorm and wishing I could be outside)

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"Oh thank god! You've been missing for so long and we couldn't find you and I was so worried- Wait. What do you mean you don't know who I am?"

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They told you not to go beyond the fence. They told you not to open the gate. But you did.

And you'll never forget what you saw on the other side.

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"Look if you could just stop yelling at me for five seconds, I could show you a much more fun and productive use for that mouth of yours."

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Out of all the things you thought could go wrong time-travelling back to the colonial times, having to replace George Washington as the leader of the Continental army was not one of them.

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Okay, so I'm about 99% sure that Abby was the one who came up with this, and I FREAKING LOVE IT.

So, let's make him into a character, shall we? I'll probably do some art of him eventually.

Lower-class demon who never gets assigned any serious summonings, but he has to handle little seances and such, which happen constantly and are a lot to deal with.

Is therefore, always stressed and done with everything and just really needs a hug and a cookie.

Since being summoned by [Character], he loves ham sandwiches and is starting to get a chocolate addiction as well.

Really smart and can ace college courses.

Quickly discovers he loves hugs.

Always dresses in sharp suits and snappy, polished clothing.

Actually full-on curses in his sleep, in around fifteen different languages.

Becomes absolute best friends with the main character and they constantly end up ranting about the pressure of society, how petty and useless humans are, and how junk food is the literal best thing in existence.

Very sarcastic.

¨Trust me, Heaven is not all that. In Hell, you actually get awards for the different levels of sin you committed in your life. You should see the awards the fangirls get."

¨wHY IS MY HEART BEATING FAST IS THIS NORMAL?¨
¨That´s just love."
¨I DON´T WANT IT¨

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You're a student who  is constantly daydreaming fanfictions about this and that, and you post them to Tumblr and other fanfiction websites. One day, you receive a letter from your favorite character saying that they're thankful for the better ending of the series you came up with. Later that same day, you get an email from the inter-dimensional police warning you that you have exceeded the threshold of dimensions one being is allowed to make.

You then realize that every time you have rewritten a scene or done something with a new pairing, every alternate universe you write for, every crossover you have ever done, you have accidentally created a whole new dimension with the entire world being based on that idea.

Which means you are capable of creating anything. Of going anywhere.

And all your fandoms are real, and you can visit every. single. one. of them. And see all your fanfictions come to life.

Write about the fun times that happen afterwards, and what happens when you realize you are now an inter-dimensional criminal with the death penalty on your head.

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You get the opportunity to see what your entire life and town would have been like if you had never been born.

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"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU STARTED THE APOCALYPSE I LEFT YOU ALONE FOR LITERALLY FIVE MINUTES"

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Write the adventures of a lesser-known branch of the Mafia, composed entirely of clowns.

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"Okay look I'm really sorry I accidentally summoned you, but I'm already bogged down with college responsibilities and I really don't want to deal with any demonic covenants right now."

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You are an insomniac who, at the most, gets two hours of sleep a night. One night, you're deeply unsettled by a feeling you can't explain, and you walk out onto your porch/apartment balcony. Standing there are a group of people in hooded robes, and one of them extends your hand to you, and asks you if you wish to join them.

Pick one of these scenarios and write about what happens afterwards.

1: "No! What the heck? Who are you guys? Get away from me!"

"We are the Society of the Sleepless, and we exist to eliminate evil from the world when all eyes are closed. Now, will you join us?"

"Eliminate as in...?"

"Kill the evildoers."

"No way, keep away from me and stay away!"

"We will NEVER stay away. You have the most potential among us, and we will get you to join us whether you like it or not."

Write about you attempting to evade them, and everything that follows.

2. "Hang on who are you?"

"We are the Society of the Sleepless, and we exist to eliminate evil from the world when all eyes are closed. Now, will you join us?"

"Sounds neat, I'm in."

Write about your adventures as a member of their organization.

3. "Ooookay, I'm definitely hallucinating. I'm gonna try and sleep now. Goodnight."

"You cannot escape!"

"Meh, whatever."

"You WILL join us!"

"I'm gonna wake up later and forget all about this."

Write about when you wake up and realize this isn't a dream, and the cult is still there.

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Write a story about historical Laurens and Hamilton having to play off their relationship to Henry Laurens as being heterosexual, which means Alexander has to cross-dress, learn women’s etiquette, and play it convincingly. Oh, not to mention they have to act like they have been courting, and Alex has to pretend to be rich.

Write about the hijinks that ensue.

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Here is the excerpt from my earlier entry, completely rewritten and checked for grammar and spelling:

---

A group of armour-clothed teenagers, seven in total, stood in a ring, conversing in hushed voices under the light of a sconce.  One girl seemed to be leading the conversation and cowering back from the others at the same time. She was dressed in the same silvery armour over black and red cloth, but a gold sash over one shoulder suggested she was of higher standing than the rest. The bun her sleek hair was tied back in gleamed under the light, and her gaze was trained on the floor. A boy stepped across the ring to place his hands on her shoulders, the clack of heeled boots the only sound amid the suffocating silence. The chatter had died out like a snuffed candle.

“Sabrina, what’s happening to you?” His hair was long, curly and scarlet, held back at the front by a silver band. He would have been handsome, but his manner was dishevelled, and his pale skin was lined with lacerations and old scars. Dark circles were prominent under light hazel eyes.

Sabrina finally raised her head, her face as dark and hardened like stone. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and the clench of her jaw suggested she was barely holding herself together. “My father’s power is getting stronger, you need to leave for your own safety. I'm too dangerous."

“Never. We’ll stay with you no matter what happens.”

The other members nodded assent, grim but determined.

Sabrina's desperation seemed to increase, her hands shaking uncontrollably. Her eyes flamed with a mix of anger and fear. “You don’t understand, you aren’t safe with me!”

“We understand, and we want to help. You’re part of a team, Sabrina. We’re here for you,” The redhead soothed, moving his hands down from her shoulders to take her hands in his own.

She shoved him away, tears at the corner of her eyes.
“Why don't you get it?! It’s impossible for you to help me, I don’t want your blood on my hands and you damn well know this! You know you won’t survive if you stay by me, so just run and leave me as everyone else does!”

“We are staying, Sabrina. You can’t stop us.”

“But… ever since I was cursed to speak prophecies… things have changed. I'm way too dangerous. What can you do to help yourselves… to save yourselves from me?” She deflated slightly, her shoulders slumping.

“We can do something, Sabrina. Trust me. Trust us.”

She nodded, resigned. "I will, but only because I would give my life to see you happy, and I know you won't leave me alone even if I tell you to."

Relieved smiles filled the circle, and several people sighed. The tension dropped.

But something was wrong with Sabrina. Her gaze flickered, and when she blinked, black spread across her eyes from the pupils out like spilt ink. Her body snapped upright, every muscle in her body tensing even as her face slacked, emotionless.

“Sabrina?" The redhead asked, his voice shaking.

Everyone staggered back as she rose off the ground as if possessed by a demonic spectre. When she opened her mouth to speak, her voice was raspy and harsh, grating like sandpaper. It carried the weight of a prophecy.

"Demon child of olden times, born within ancient bell's chimes
She is the hope, she is the curse, the bringer of the final verse
She stands alone to face the throne, the father from whom she has flown
Damned are the spells upon her sword, should she fail to fell darkened Lord
For if curtain falls upon the stage, the world she shall forever raze!"

---

I'm considerably more proud of this one, but the prophecy still needs some work.

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A sample from the short story I’m currently writing: 

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A sample from the short story I’m currently writing: 

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Prologue

Alexander Hamilton was, quite frankly, peculiar, and altogether, inscrutable.

With a clever tongue, sharp mind, bright smile and far more than an average man’s helping of good looks, Hamilton could have been a suitor for any woman across the thirteen states and an admirable friend. He had an assured manner, imposing upon many who had chance encounters with him. Yet he spoke to no one unless required, rarely making friendly chit-chat unless it was someone who had earned his rarely given respect.

It also seemed, that for all his flirting with eloquent women and debutantes of high society, he never seemed truly invested or genuine. His eyes would wander away and smiles would be as artificial as glass, and should the topic turn to matters of heritage, any and all conversation would be quickly broken off. While it might have been something to do with his past, his speech, clothing and manner were far too eloquent for him to be anything but high status.

He was, overall, a puzzle. One that a certain couple of officers were determined to figure out. Namely, his fellow aides-de-camp, John Laurens and the recently arrived Frenchman, Marquis de Lafayette.

They would crack the icy armour that surrounded the young enigma, they swore of it.

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You are a huge Broadway fan who also has an obsession with the occult. One night, after a week of attempts, you successfully summon a ghost. It takes one look around and starts complaining about everything and inquiring into affairs of government.

You then realize you have summoned the ghost of Alexander Hamilton.

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“I would challenge you to a battle of wits but I see you are unarmed.”

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Death offers you a game for your life. You decide on D&D.

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What's going on here?

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noun

a book containing sailing directions with hand-drawn charts and descriptions of harbours and coasts

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noun
cal·​li·​thump

a noisy, boisterous band or parade

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Seven teenagers stood in a dimly lit room, talking quietly. One blonde girl stood facing the others, and desperation was evident on her face. She made a comment, and the room went dead silent. A boy stepped forward from the group of six that was standing in front of her, boots clacking on the cracked stone tile floor.

“Sabrina, what’s happening to you?” He said quietly.

“My father’s power is getting stronger… you have to leave for your own safety.” She whispered back, head bowed.

“Never. We’ll stay with you no matter what happens.”

“You don’t understand, you aren’t safe with me!”

“We understand, and we want to help. You’re part of a team, Sabrina. We’re here for you.”

Tears streamed down the blond girl’s face.

“Please… just listen to me… It’s impossible for you to help me, I don’t want your blood on my hands. You know you won’t survive if you stay by me…”

“We are staying, Sabrina. You can’t stop us.”

“But… ever since I was told that I could speak prophecies… Things have changed. I am more dangerous. What can you do to help yourselves… to save yourselves from me?”

“We can do something, Sabrina. You know we can.”

“Sabrina? Are you alright?” He asked, noticing something strange happen in her eyes.

Suddenly, the girl went rigid. Her eyes had turned solid black, almost like empty voids. As her friends watched, she spoke in a harsh tone that had the weight of a prophecy.

“The evil will rise, as Asundrien will fall. His child will stand in his way, and be the hope of us all. It is her destiny alone, to face the demon and take back the throne. The hero will fail because of her friends, and with her death the worlds meet their ends!”

———

Oh god cringe cringe cringe cringe-

Where do I even start?

Dialogue - extremely weak, unconvincing display of emotions, does not establish the characters and is not even remotely dramatic, very artificial

Description - we only know what the main character looks like, and even that is bad, because all we know is she is blonde, we don’t know her clothing or eye colour or anything, "dimly lit room” is no sort of description to go off of, and all we know is that the main character has an evil father and that she has some sort of team relationship with the others

The prophecy - terrible rhyming, no alliteration, blunt and blatant, no mystery, and spoils the entire plot in one nice little package

It is already revealed that this girl is going to be a Mary Sue with a tragic backstory, way too many powers and is adored by everyone

All in all, kill me now.

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What happened here?

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Every time that you forget what you were going to say, or were about to say something you shouldn't have and then changed it, or changed your mind about an action, that is the author writing your story backspacing. One day, the backspace button on their computer breaks and it will take the computer company a week to pick up their computer and repair it. Write about a week in your life where you have no filter and can't change your mind after you make a decision.