snowywolfa

United States

15
sophomore, hs
Dog/duck/guinea pig momma

Message from Writer

I’m really bad at writing but sure why not expose my writing to the world. If you’re reading this, thank you for giving me time in your day! (:

Pfp is one of my doggos

...this is just bad

March 11, 2021

PROMPT: Year by Year

3
Year 1: A tidal wave had swept me away in a hurry. The dark void I was used to was no more; now I seemingly stared at a room filled with new faces. 

Year 2: Blurs of events, splotches of color, nothing is clear, but if the pictures I’ve seen are even partially true, someone got married, and I was beet red, tomato-faced through the entire ceremony. 

Year 3: Simply put, an entire language was shoved in my brain.

Year 4: Fifteen-year-old Pomeranian Happy passes away. Many chickens storm the yard. 

Year 5: My neighbors poodle-napped my poodle, but because of this, I met, and adopted my best friend. 

Year 6: Sharp, silver, slicing tool? Meltdown. I had an absolutely embarrassing meltdown, at the dentists, in the middle of the day, in the middle of the hall. 

Year 7: There could be an entire encyclopedia on the events of this year, but I’ll keep this short and simple. My sister left for college which somehow led to me playing piano. 

Year 8: This was what I like to call “year two of being a musical pain.” I started orchestra, and apparently in an elementary orchestra, having any knowledge on music makes you an expert. 

Year 9: Winter rolls around. It’s the first week of break, and I’m on a plane, thousands of feet in the air, flying over the Pacific. Upon landing, I was greeted by two tall figures in puffy parkas; my aunt and uncle. This was the first time that I had actually met my mother’s side of the family. 

Year 10: With another year came another fur baby; four months old, four pounds, porkie puppy. (If you don’t know what a porkie is, it is a Pomeranian, Yorkshire Terrier mix)

Year 11: Fifteen seats, endless candidates, political mind games... At the end of it all, I was somehow back in student council... again. This resulted in ten brutal months where I was tasked in leading the pledge of allegiance. I never wanted this, but I was stuck standing next to our beloved striped flag repeating the same exact words. “I pledge allegiance, to the flag...”

Year 12: Some strange girl touched my hair; she took the seat right behind me, and we later became best friends. The words echo inside of my head, “Hey! You have really nice hair; it’s just like my friend Reese’s.” and that’s how the story went. 

Year 13: The sky was still dark, but you could start to see the sun. We met under the bridge that had become such a familiarity. It was 4am. The bright yellow bus came and we were on our way. By the time we left, the sun had already set, and once again, we were met with the darkened blue sky. 

Year 14:
I. Culminated. On. My. Birthday.
I. Cried. On. My. Birthday.
I. Got. Beat. Up. On. My. Birthday.

Year 15: There is only one word to describe this event. Quarantine, but if you want a better event, here’s something; I did not get my learner’s permit and I am sad. 
Year 14: birthday punches, I did not actually get beat up!!!

fun facts:
year 3: dropped a glass of orange juice and ran through the broken glass

comments, questions, concerns? 
thank you for reading (:

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  • March 11, 2021 - 7:58pm (Now Viewing)

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3 Comments
  • serein

    re: thank you!!
    ah girl your welcome! you're so talented we should definitely collab!


    3 months ago
  • FantasyOtter12

    lol oof birthday punches ;l


    3 months ago
  • serein

    This is the best response I've seen to this prompt!!! The way you write--I love the ambiguity, the way you write so matter of factly. Loved it!!


    3 months ago