#aprilwriteathon

Here we go! Another Break day!!!! That means its time for *airhorns and buzzers* Duckies!!!!

Specifically Half a dozen Ducks!! (Look at this post twice and it will be 12... I tried.)

Tis has arrived!!! The final day!!!!! Now, because I do what I want (and my mom said I could XD) I am changing the last prompt a little. It is supposed to be my favorite day rewritten in a new genre but I switched it to my favorite day NEXT INSTALLMENT! Here is Huntsman and Prey pt.2!!

Continued from: Day 2

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Day 30: Favorite Day Pt. 2 Then the wooden barricade came down.

The boy crept farther into the corner of the choir box. His side burned. He clutched it harder and held his breath to stifle the scream radiating inside of him. One by one the planks blocking the entrance were ripped from their nailed positions. Only one needed to be removed to allow the hunting dogs into the church.

Their nails raked against the floorboards. Then stopped. 

Had it not been for the blaring beat of their heart, the boy might have heard the dogs sniff around for his scent. They picked it up quickly, approaching closer and closer to the choir box. The boy’s sight began to darken around the edges. His shivering had stopped, but in no way, because he was warm.

Another board came down.

The dogs were just on the other side of the wall. Deep growls set in their throats. The boy forced himself to focus. He had to run. He had done it before. He just had to… His body refused to move. Tears welled in his eyes.

‘Work. Please. Just one more time.’

His arms braced the ground and attempted to push himself up from the carpeted floor. Arms violently shaking. Adrenaline was gone, as was any fight. The only thing left to do was decide if he wanted to curl up for a final moment of comfort or give the beast full access to end him quickly. Then a darker thought came: What if the huntsman got him first. A shiver racked his spine. He didn't want to go that way. He knew what hunters did to prey. They were methodical. They had fun with it. 

Bit of a short one but I like it!

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Day 29: Goldfish In Boring Fish Bowl “It could be anything!” Goldie cried as he spun around the glass bowl.

“Or it could be exactly what it is,” Fishy said with boredom lacing his voice. He floated near the bottom, watching the outside world go by.

“You are right! It could be what it is, which is nothing, so that means it is everything! This calls for a song!”

“Please no.”

“Oooooooooooh who lives in a pineapple under the sea? Undah da see. Don where it's weta take it from meeee. See the line where the sky meets the sea. It calls me.”

“Please stop.”

“Time for the second verse!”

My last break day *wipes away tear* I shall cherish it... Ok done. Now time for Ducks!

Aye Aye welcome to another break day! Today we will have three duck pictures, because I said so *sticks tongue out* so there. Feliz Navidad!

Wassup!!! (*crickets*) Glad to hear the enthusiasm... Anyyyy Who. Day 23! This is a rewrite, but with a twist because I didn’t like the (full) original prompt. So here is my take on a love letter. (NOT by sherlock, unless you want it to be *shrug*)

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Day 23: Rewrite Least Fav Day (Love Letter #19)

I am gray, ashen. I am the brown dried leaves that crunch underfoot. You are none of these things. You are light.

We are from different worlds. Separated by a thin line, a door that rarely goes both ways. But I see you; all the wonderful things you do and create. I am enamored by the beauty that you radiate. I wonder what would happen if we were to collide. Would you bring a lively fire, a resuscitating breath, or a beating heart to my emaciated soul? Would I get to experience the sunlight that forms at your fingertips and illuminates your smile?

Or would I hinder you and dull your spirit? Corrupting what you are; Infecting you with shadows?

Or could we create something never seen before? 

A color that only appears when sun meets the sea. A barren plain made new by fauna. Dried bones clothed in beauty.

I shall wait for that day. The day two become one. The day the line disappears and the door remains open. When the world releases its dependence; leaving me to be the only one left to receive you. I shall wait until the day that every one of your gifts that has crossed the threshold can be reciprocated. 

I am gray, ashen. I am Death.

Hello Internet!!! Today is another wild card day so I chose a cool prompt... Also it somehow turned out to be a good Earth Day prompt as well... Yay me! Enjoy!

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Day 22: Deep Underground There Lives…

Deep underground there lives a tree. This tree is tended to by the Moles. 

No. Not the blind, long-nailed mammals that live under the earth. 

The Moles are the inspiration for the ground-dwelling animals, yet they are much more sophisticated. Each Mole has a job designated to them. All the jobs have to do with aiding the overworld. The most coveted of these jobs is the Sprouter. It is the only job that gets to feel the warmth of the surface. A Mole will never reach the surface as their eyes cannot handle the intense sunlight, hence the blind attribute, though they are anything but.

The Sprouters climb just below the surface and fetch the seeds that the humans plant, they are never plated deep enough. Though that is not the fault of humans. Only Moles can reach the tree that helps plants grow.

Once a seed is brought from the surface down to the tree it gets handed off to the Tenders. These Moles foster the seed, giving it sap from the tree to make it grow, before it is given back to the Sprouters to return to its place. 

The tree’s sap has healing and growing properties that cannot be explained. And no one ever tries.

Tenders were the Moles that were tasked to dote on the tree. Pruning its leaves and watering the roots that hung from the ceiling. They were viewed as the most important job of the Moles, but, with such a big responsibility, it was not most wanted. Tenders got the best seats, got to eat first, but they were always the last to bed, and the first to wake up.

The lowest job of the Moles was a Braider. These Moles were in charge of root management. Twisting roots to the closest water source. Winding roots to richer soil. This meant that every Braider was always covered in dirt. The Sprouters had a talent for being dirt-repellent, another thing no one questioned, but Braiders were magnets for the soot of the earth.

They were the fastest of any Mole. They beat out earthworms, gophers, and ants. 

Enter in the mind of Sylvie. The zombies lurk outside. And to think, they are only at day 14... I remember back then. Good times with the Bookshop POV. Never mind that! Time for the APOCOLAPSE!!!!

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Day 21: Zombie Apocalypse Diary Entry

Day 14: They are still outside. 

Danny said they would go away eventually and we could get out of our house. The safe zone is still states away and every day the dead population keeps growing.

I’m getting hungry. I am tired of eating canned beans. Who even buys canned beans for emergencies? Seems like mom and dad wanted us to fail. We could ask them, but seeing as they are outside, and want to eat us, it would be better to assume.

I really want to go to the beach. 

Can sharks become reanimated as well? I don't want to see that.

I wish I knew where Rooster (our dog, in case you forget) went. I miss him.