When I was younger, I would write the most imaginative stories and scripts. I wanted to start sharing them on my blog for an insight into my childhood mind! Since I haven’t exercised that much recently due to my shoulder pain, I wanted to also include “Sunday Funday” as an option (when I don’t have anything to say for “Suns out, guns out”).
This new day category will consist of a mix of childhood stories and ones I write from a prompt book Nathan got me last Christmas. I hope this is entertaining for you as well!
I would love to involve all the readers in WRITING CHALLENGES with the prompt book 🙂 Comment below if you would be interested!
Without further ado, here is one of my creative stories (unfinished) written 10 years ago 😮
Isabella: (sexily) Oh, Timothy!! (Realizing she can’t) Wait, I have to go!
Timothy: But baby, you can’t.
Isabella: I have to. I’m really sorry.
Timothy: Why must you leave me in the dust like this?!
Isabella: Because… because… I’m getting married.
Timothy: YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED?!!!
Isabella: Yes. I’m really sorry. My mom is making me. It is an arranged
Timothy: But, I love you!
Isabella: I know. (Looks at a clock) Is it that time all ready? I really can’t
stay. I have to get my dress and get pampered.
Timothy: Well, I guess when you’re 16-
Isabella: I’m 14.
Timothy: YOU’RE 14?!!! You look so old!
Isabella: I know, I know. Now I have to go.
Timothy: Will I ever see you again?
Isabella: You shouldn’t, but you might.
(Isabella’s mom comes outside)
Isabella: (whispering to Timothy) Pretend you’re a gardener.
Isabella: DO IT!!!
Queen Julie: Hello darling.
Isabella: Hello mother. I was just telling the gardener how lovely the vase is.
Isabella: Yes, the vase. (points to herself mischievously)
Timothy: Oh yes!! I am in love with that vase.
Queen Julie: All right. I’ll let you finish. (Goes back inside)
Isabella: I know you love the vase, but the vase can’t love you back.
Timothy: It is only because the vase’s owner won’t let it go or do anything
that it wants to!
Isabella: Don’t talk about the vase’s owner. The vase’s owner is my
mother and she takes very good care of the vase.
Timothy: (sarcastically) Yeah by telling the vase to do whatever she wants
it to do.
Isabella: Get out!!! NOW!!!
Timothy: Can I keep the vase?
(Timothy acts surprised, yet happy)
Isabella: Here. (Hands Timothy a tiny vase) You can keep this one.
Timothy leaves the garden, confused and depressed
Charise: Oh, has someone lost his heart to Isabella?
Timothy: (startled that someone was listening) No. I love this vase.
Charise: No you don’t. You love the vase who just walked in the house.
Timothy: All right it is true, but why do you care? I mean I can love a vase even if it is taken right?
Charise: Wrong. The problem with loving a vase, as you call her, that is taken is that she can never love you the same way that you love her. Even if she does love you the same way you love her, she can’t show you because she has to love the man who took her. Understand?
Timothy: Yes, but I will cherish this tiny vase for all my life. By the way, what is your name?
Charise: (hoping that he would ask that question) Charise. I’m Isabella’s older sister. I’m sixteen. What about yourself?
Timothy: I’m Timothy and since you’re Isabella’s sister-
Charise: (willingly) Yes?
Timothy: can you tell her that I will garden here anytime she wants me to?
Charise: (angry) Yea sure whatever. Just get out! (She takes his tiny vase and smashes it) There! So now, you can’t keep any part of my little sister!