Four high school students encounter an evil spirit. Thoroughly cliched and hopelessly derivative.
Vanessa hopped across the baseball field on the foot wearing a shoe. But the shoe had a heel and she tipped over into the dirt when she bent over to pick up the other shoe. She sat on the ground and pulled on the shoe, glaring across the field. She silently declared war. Well, a bigger war.
Changes had to be made. She wasn’t going to make any progress with that greasy loser, nor did she want to spend any more time on him than she already had.
(As Mikhail had predicted, a random guy released her from the locked field, whom she gave her number to, just in case things didn’t pan out with Chad.)
That night, she performed her usual ritual in order to appear in the other world before the spirit. She had grown to love it; it was her very own palace, with its smooth halls, vases of blooming red flowers, the scent of incense. She wielded powers there that she could only dream about using in real life. But that was going to change very soon.
The last time she was there, she had trapped the rodent inside a tall vase because he tried to bite her. She went to the alcove where she stashed him and the scholarship papers.
“Oh, ratty ratty,” she sang as she turned the vase upside down. She shook it and looked inside and shook it upside down again.
She threw the vase down as hard as she could and it shattered around her feet. Of course that green-haired freak’s rat would escape! Just like she escaped having any friends! Just like that other loser—wait a minute.
She pulled down her lip with her fingernail. Those two had been hanging out a lot all of a sudden. Birds of a pathetic feather. If one came, then the other was sure to turn up.
Vanessa wasn’t looking forward to telling the spirit that she lost the rodent. But there was something else she could do. She rolled up the waistband of her skirt a little and entered the chamber of the spirit.
When she approached the altar, the smoke was spiraling around ominously. She sensed its irritation with her. But she held her head up and clacked her high heels extra loud to cover her nervousness.
The spirit asked, “Have you brought us the third sacrifice?”
She cleared her throat and twirled some hair. “I, um, have a better idea.”
“Where is the third sacrifice?”
“The third sacrifice comes with the second sacrifice.”
“Remind us of the second sacrifice.”
“Well, since the rodent decided to step away for a minute, I’m gonna bring the girl here. And if I bring her, the other one’ll show up.”
The smoke above the altar seemed to darken. “We know the animal is missing. We usually punish liars. But because you have proven yourself in the use you have made of the limited powers we have already granted you, we will accept the new sacrifice.”
Vanessa’s head dropped with relief. What a disaster she just avoided! She bowed—hiding her little smile—and promised that she would bring the girl within the week.
“There is a caveat, Vanessa.”
What’s a caveat, she wondered.
“To bring to her to this chamber, you must ensure she doesn’t wake up.”
Vanessa smiled openly this time. “Does that apply to the rodent too?”
“Make it apply to whomever you wish.” The smoke disappeared.
Who the Hell Knows? 
I sense a double twist a coming. Long live Mr Squeaks 😄
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Sonething’s a-coming
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Whom is considered archaic and interchangeable with who, dependent only on choice.
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It’s a code word, a dog-whistle if you will, to locate other like-minded people.
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I use it dialog as an affectation. I found the comment related to usage uncharacteristically pompous. But I’m an asshole, so…
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Aw, Stuart’s a really good guy. Has a great blog.
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I’m sure.
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I see all the hallmarks of a technically-sound writer, such as semi-colons and the proper use of ‘whom’. This daily-writing challenge is definitely going to take you to the writing achievements that you truly deserve. I believe in you, Hetty. Keep going!
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Thanks so much, Stuart, I appreciate your assessment 😁
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I wonder if this spirit that Vanessa is talking to is Jorge Mario Bergoglio’s “god of surprises”.
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Omg I am DEAD 🤣
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Go to confession. Or not.
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Not for this 😛
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You know, in editing a piece yesterday I decided the best thing any of us could do for our work is catch the word ‘was’ on its way out. I never noticed how it softens up the narrative until I read myself and was like Oh…Maw…GAWD.
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You’re right about this. Moley highlighted a few for me and then I Saw It. And what I Saw was Not Good. Sometimes I just can’t figure out a better alternative.
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Rewrite with a real verb. Glen was sitting on the bench when Bill returned. Glenn stood, Glen offered a hand, Glen did anything but was sitting. In fact Glen remained on the bench exactly as Bill left him, blah blah blah. The other bit is the pot and kettle syndrome.
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Who kicked whom, in other words, not who was kicking whom.
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Yes, Get out the magic selecta verb wheel or action chart.
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I just realized that a lot of my “was” problem is that I seem to have a fetish for past continuous tense–was doing this, was doing that… I should explore this in therapy.
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No, it’s epidemic in how we tell personal stories, how we were raised, all that. Jimmy was kicking billy is what you’d tell your teacher about the playground incident. How the teacher would tell their moms. Here’s a clue about its lack of impact in the written word. Jesus was hanging out in this boat. Jesus was busting up fish and bread. Jonah was arguing with a whale. Moses was waving his walking stick at the ocean. Was is casual and conversational and not as confrontational. Okay Mrs Brown, Jim kicked Bill and I sent him to the office for it. Well, your little jimmy was kicking Billy and we can’t have that so I had to send him to the office.
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Makes sense. Over the years since grad school, I have found myself becoming (see) more and more conversational, maybe in a subconscious attempt to get away from the stilted, formal way I used to write.
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There are good aspects to academic writing, like clarity and continuity, that should never be discounted. One can be casual and stilted at the same time. I almost used the adverb easily.
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I have nightmares of this didactic tone I would always take 🤮
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I got a new gravatar symbol for my name. Like it?
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Love it. It’s very sparkly and tie-dye. Suits you to a T.
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More of a monochromatic watercolor kaleidoscope effect where the ink ran.
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Don’t try and legitimize it
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Far from it.
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I ilked your first reply better, which was vibing positivity and apprenticing joy. It’s too bad you let someone else sway you from it.
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I’ve never vibed in my life, much less with positivity and joy.
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“That night, she performed her usual ritual in order to appear in the other world before the spirit. She had grown to love it; it was her very own palace, with its smooth halls, vases of blooming red flowers, the scent of incense.” – I like this detail. It gives Vanessa a bit more depth, like she’s growing in spiritual depth. This makes me like her in a way, and I like complicated villains rather than one-dimensional villains.
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I never really considered giving her a dimension, so thanks for pointing that idea out. This month has been a mixture of planning and seat of the pants, but I wrote an ending to the story a while ago, a stupid joke ending. Now I’ve got to revisit that entirely.
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Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you do more work!
I was wondering about how you had gone about plotting this out, making sure that going one chapter a day would get to an ending by Sept 30
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How dare you make me work, don’t you know how lazy I am? Anyways, I had an idea of what I wanted, so I made a numbered list to thirty and filled in details here and there. I had all sorts of ambition to have it mostly done early which went out the window immediately. So I have to steal time here and there, and sit on my seat and come up with something every day, and shape the list as I go.
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