Opal Drop

United States of America

A huge Harry Potter fan
mix of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw
I love to write, write, write
Again huge HP fan
I love fantasy,
Well, um, I'm 13. Not 14 yet....
Excited for high school, going to be there soon!

Message to Readers

Dark, with a scary twist. Can you make it to the end?

My Fire #plottwist

March 12, 2019

PROMPT: Plot Twist


GROUP: Flash Fiction

    The room is silent. If were to drop a pin right now, I can easily hear it as clear as an avalanche. I can feel the warmth radiating from the bodies that are right beside me. Their faces all seem to be looking at me.
    I keep walking, feeling a prickling on my back, but I must be hallucinating. Then I can hear a soft whisper, but is is so soft that I think I'm imagining it. The white tiles on the smooth floor contrast deeply with the navy blue stage and walls. I wish I could say the sight hurt my eyes, but it was more beautiful than I could have ever conjured up in my mind. Then I look to the right with a sharp turn of my head, because I think I hear a louder whisper. But again, my ears have fooled me. I only see the many others that have come before me to this stage. My photo, however, I know will never be there.
    I shoot a vain smile at my mother. Her mouth is unmoving, as it has been my whole life. She never appreciates my accomplishments, and she never will. I chuckle to myself, and wonder why I ever wanted her approval. Now I know I don't need it anymore. And Dad, he never really had much to contribute to my life. He gave it to me, stayed for 5 years, and decided he'd had enough. So he went and died. Oh well. What can I do about that? And it has already been 12 years, so I'm quite over it, if there was anything at all to get over. If I had a brother, I would have made sure he wasn't here today. I would have made sure he didn't get caught up in all this mess. 
    What mess? Long story. But, in a nutshell, when education mixes with politics and cultural differences, things don't 
go well. My parents married from two different faiths. Dad was what we call a Prudent, and Mom was an Esent. Now, those differences, and my education, got in the way of everything and resulted in terribly unfortunate things. But I don't have a brother, so this doesn't matter too much.

    But it still matters. The split in our family, my dad's death, and mine and Mom's runaway 5 years ago all led to where I am standing now. 

Surrounded by dead bodies.

With dead eyes.

All internally pleading to die without suffering.

But my drug won't let them do that!

It is beautiful, isn't it? My mother especially. She has, or rather had, a weak immune system, so she died faster than the others. I would have liked her to suffer longer. We can't have everything though! I told you remember? She will never appreciate my accomplishments again? You should've realized then.

They all deserved what they're getting.

And I deserve my long plotted revenge.

All their empty eyes spark mine alive with fire.  



See History
  • March 12, 2019 - 8:44pm (Now Viewing)

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  • Opal Drop

    @Dmoral13, don't worry, that's ok.

    9 months ago
  • Dmoral13

    Winners posted: https://writetheworld.com/groups/1/shared/107805/version/206854

    9 months ago
  • Dmoral13

    I submitted the peer review for this a while ago, and it still hasn't shared! I'm SUPER sorry, i'll look into this

    9 months ago
  • Blotted Ink with a Broken Quill

    Contest winners for my short poem contest are out!

    11 months ago