It’s been quite the week this week, filled with internet troubles and NaNoWriMo struggles. I’m getting to a point in the month where I know point A and point B, but I’m struggling with how to get there. Fortunately, Wendy has yet again delivered the perfect prompt to keep me going! This week’s focus over at #WOW555 is conflict – which is just what the folks in Withered Legacy need.
This week’s official prompt: Give us a scene that includes some unexpected conflict/reversal of fortune for your character.
Below is my response. To fit the #WOW555 rules, it’s limited to 500 words, but I will most definitely be expanding it. This will probably get me over the next word count hurdle, if it hasn’t already.
It was all I could do to keep from losing control.
“Jenna! Wait – you can’t go alone.”
The engine drowned out his voice, further muffled by my helmet. Before Asher could stop me, I shot out of the parking lot. I’d forgotten to grab my coat, and now the wind burned me through my thin sweater. By the time I stopped the bike, my entire body felt numb and on fire all at once. Rushing up the lawn to the house, I almost didn’t notice van parked in the lot. My hand froze above the doorknob to the front door as my eyes fixated on the large insignia on the side of the vehicle.
It was a symbol I knew well – too well. The narrow, ornate curve – what looked like a Greek column sculpted so that both ends stood on the ground – rested above two words: The Arc. Beneath the large lettering was a subtitle that read “Rehabilitation and Treatment Facilities for Disturbed Psychics.” My heart plummeted into my stomach, and I forced myself to take a step back and away from the door. Was Stacy actually in danger? I should have listened to Asher – I shouldn’t have come alone.
Before I could return to my bike, the back of the van opened. Unwilling to risk them following me back to Asher and the others, my only choice was to run into the house. I slammed the door shut behind me, locking it and running into my room.
“Jenna? What are you doing?” Stacy was at my door, watching me as I ran around the room, rummaging for anything I considered crucial. I was going to run – of course I was going to – but I needed a few things first.
“Leaving. And you’re coming with me. Pack a bag – you’re not safe here.” Asher’s words echoed – Stacy’s become a target. They’ll use her to get to you.
“You can’t leave. I – I called them so they could help you.” For the second time, I froze.
“You called them?” My voice broke, my eyes unable to do anything but stare at my adoptive sister. “What gave you the right-?”
“You’ve been using your abilities!” A knock at the front door knocked me back into focus. I went back to gathering my things. Stacy ran out of the room to answer it.
“Don’t! Please.” At my plea, she turned to look at me from the front door, eyes full of sorrow but no regret.
I didn’t stay long enough to watch her open the door, opting to run out the kitchen door into the garage. The commotion almost shook the house as they came after me. After tearing the garage door apart, I made a mad dash to my bike. It wasn’t until my body hit the pavement that I felt the needle in my leg, pumping the sedative. Stacy’s tear-stained face blurred in and out of focus as I lost consciousness.
There you have it! Be sure to check out the other entries on Saturday and vote for your favorite. And, if you’re a writer, consider participating. You have until 5 PM CST to submit – check out the rules here.
As always, think happy thoughts!
Image credit: Found via Google Image Search on http://www.wall321.com/.