Writing Prompt: Day 15

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Day 15 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Pick a popular villain and write an untold backstory.

Shannon: Gaston age 10:

“What silly game are you girls playing now,” Gaston questioned the twins, peaking in from their shed’s window.

“Ugh,” they pouted in unison. “None of your business, leave us alone Gaston,” Laura shooed him away and shut the curtain.

He quickly hurried to the door before they could lock it. “Hey, I’m not asking to make fun of you. I was just out hunting with my dad, and we came back early. Maybe I could play too?”

“This game is only for girls,” Paula argued, sitting at the table pretending to drink from her teacup.

“You wouldn’t like it,” Claudia added, cradling her doll. “We are playing house, and doing girl things.”

He pondered how he could stay for only a moment before coming up with an idea, “Well, I could be the husband. I could come in after a long day of trading. You must need one of those.” He longed to stay. The twins were the most beautiful girls in the town, and he couldn’t understand why, but he wanted their attention more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. He’d do anything to impress them.

“We don’t need a husband,” Laura laughed. “We want the prince,” Laura turned the chair to reveal a painting of the young prince that they belted to the backrest.

The sight of the young royalty made his fists clench, he teeth lock, and his nose flair. “Now what’s so great about him?”

“He has a castle,” Laura smiled.

“And servants,” Claudia chimed in.

“And we’d be princesses,” Paula cheered, “which means he would invite us to the ball.”

“Plus he is so gorgeous,” Laura swooned folding her hands together. The other two nodded.

“I’m better looking then him,” Gaston grumbled. “Anyway, the prince doesn’t even know you exist. I’m the best you’ve got.”

The twins broke out into a fit of laughter. “You don’t even compare to the Prince silly boy. You’re ugly, you’re weak, and you’re poor,” Laura listed. “Who could ever love you?”

“You’re wrong,” he shook his head backing away, feeling heartbreak for the first time, finally learning how they truly felt about him. His foot caught on the doorway and he fell to the grown.

“And clumsy,” Paula pointed at him, using her other hand to cover her laughter as the other girls joined her.

“Goodbye Gaston,” Laura waved before shutting the door.

Erin: “Sheldon, when do you think this need to be the best started,” my therapist asked from her upright position in her chair.

“When did your need to be sitting taller than your clients start,” I scoffed scrambling out of the indent I was slowly slipping into within the lounge chair. She wrote some notes that I would surely be able to find a way to see after our appointment. She was in for a long ride.

“This is the office I have been given. Would you prefer we switch chairs?”

“Yes,” I ordered, knowing that answer would make her life harder.

“Lovely,” she tried to smile like she didn’t care. When she tried to offer me a lift I swatted at her gesture.

“I can get up just fine,” I scoffed. After wrapping my arms around the chair and making a steady climb the tuna took her own seat.

“Is this more comfortable for you,” she asked making more notes in her book.

“If I didn’t have to be here that would be better,” I offered.

“This is a requirement of your probation,” she reminded. “Let’s do a word exercise. I will say a word and you say the first one that comes to your mind.”

“Grass”

“Blades”

“Teeth “

“Fangs”

“Sunshine”

“Fire”

“Money”

“Power”

“Krusty Krab”

“Challenge”

“Chum Bucket”

“Dead”

“Mr. Krabs”

“Giant”

“Sheldon”

“Small”

“Small”

“Weak”

“When was the first time you saw yourself as small,” she asked. Her pen was racing after that exercise.

“When I first went to school, that was the first time that I realized my family was different,” I remembered back to my first friend. I remembered the first time his clumsiness brought me to the hospital.

“How did being smaller than everyone else make you feel,” she continued to push.

“Vulnerable, looked down upon, underestimated,” I started listing.

“Was weakness something that you believed connected with size on your first day of school,” she asked looking at me with a soft smile. People thought I was insane.

“Being small is connected with weakness. When you look like me you have to take care of yourself. The world doesn’t owe me any favors and is not giving me any. If I want something I have to take it.” I grinned making plans then and her eyes finally showed some fear behind them.

How could he/she? Let us know.

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2 thoughts on “Writing Prompt: Day 15

  1. Kate:
    “You look marvelous, Mels,” chortled the trio of robins as the perched above my mirrored pool. Their kind tittering helped to calm the wild girl who gazed up at me. With a mess of auburn hair and warm amber eyes the girl seemed perfectly human, until you looked closer. Protruding just behind her hairline were two tiny, curly goat horns. They labeled her a fey; an elite and dominant family of creature in this world. Along with the horns, though, she bore another spectacular gift from nature itself; wings.
    From her shoulder blades a set of massive, powerful eagle wings had sprouted at birth. When she’d been a tyke the forest had gossiped about a fey borne with sparrow’s wings and how, though she was noble-blooded, she would never amount to anything. The word now was she’d grown them big as dragon’s cutting blades to prove them all wrong.
    Really, I couldn’t have cared what the forest thought; I believed I had the most amazing gifts anyone could ask for. The girl before me beamed blithely as I splashed the pond with a soft wing and she disappeared. Chirruping gaily the robins took flight toward the clearing, leaving me alone with my mind. When I stood, leaning on my good leg, I reached for my precious staff. Carved up the solid bark were sigils and signs meant to expel negative spirits and ward off the evils in this world and set into the top was a rather large quartz sphere.
    Giving myself a moment to enjoy the anticipation I gazed up into the deepening sky before beating my wings gracefully and soring into the dusk sky. Below me the pond stretched out and my treehouse was a mere dot amongst the rest of the forest. In the distance the party was starting up; fireflies clustered all over the pond as bioluminescent moss draped across the clearing. Centered in the clearing was a small bonfire to commemorate the three-hundred-fiftieth year without outside conflict.
    As I swooped and swayed in the cool breeze I imagined not going to the party and flying off to the hazy mountains in the distance for a change. Not doing what was expected of me would be just that; unexpected. But I enjoyed these gatherings of the fey, birds, mammals and other creatures that dwelled in our magnificent forest. I continued on, flying high above the function, before diving straight down toward the lagoon.
    Pulling up just as my fingertips skirted the water I headed to the glade to much spirited applause. Lightly landing at the water’s edge I bowed graciously to the varied crowd. Out of the group strode a lanky fey with pale eyes and hair who smiled stiffly at me. When he was within earshot he purred, “Maleficent, how kind of you to join us. Please do follow me to the throne room.” His request was succeeded with a curt bow and a swift turn. He was halfway across the clearing before I’d taken a step forward.
    There was an unsettling stillness in the air as I entered the depths of the king’s court. Crushing around me, picking at my feathers, was a dark wall of trees meant to be foreboding. I stumbled forward as the uneven ground caught my staff and my wings unfurled to catch me. Carefully I folded them to my back to avoid injuring them, making my way further into the darkness. When I could no longer see by the festive lights behind me I whispered to my quartz sphere, which burst into silvery light, and continued forth.
    Finally breaching the hallway and into a cavernous room lined with bookshelves my staff light went out of its own accord. Dominating the room was a round table with an assortment of simple wooden chairs around it. At the head of the table the pale man stood behind the king’s ornate throne. Raising an entitled eyebrow at my flustered appearance he motioned for me to join him at my chair. As I limped to my seat and sat on the cold, rough chair the room was deathly silent.
    He took his seat, regally straightened his tunic and set his eyes on me. After a moment of awkward eye contact he spoke tersely, “I know you enjoy being the champion of the people, daughter, but you must learn to take your place here,” he motioned around the room to where the council met. I kept my mouth shut to avoid saying something derogatory but he continued in earnest, “You will one day inherit this throne and you must be prepared. I will not be around forever.”
    His dark eyes were stern as they pleaded with me, his gills flaring about his neck. Every few months we had this same discussion; I just wanted to be a normal creature but he wanted me to be a leader one day. We were constantly at odds at what my life needed to be. When I spoke my voice quivered, “I don’t want to be the queen one day. I just want to be normal.” A child’s wish left my lips even though I knew it was a fool’s desire.
    Across from me a fire had lit in my father’s eyes, blazing at me. Under his hands the bark table began to sizzle and burn with his fury. Standing, he thundered, “You will do as I say or you will face the consequences!” The light in the room had dimmed to red, accentuating his rage. My heart pounded faster than I thought possible as I shyly dropped my gaze.
    “Okay,” I whispered, eyes glued to a knot in the middle of the oak slab, “I’ll learn to be a leader like you.” Silence followed as the lighting slowly turned back to normal and my heart slowed to normal. When he touched my hand gratefully in passing by my chair I jumped from my chair to hug him with all my might. Tears welled behind my eyes at finally growing into the woman my father always knew I would be and I knew, in that moment, I would strive to be just like my father. I wouldn’t take any disrespect from anyone.

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  2. Russell:
    Where was she? Wolf always waited for her. She found him out near the meadows near her home when he was but a pup. It became a routine the two of them, the wolf and the girl. He remembered the red cap she wore around her head, bright as a rose petal. He sniffed the air, the cool damp air filling his lungs. Where was she?
    I rolled around the meadow of flowers, rolling over several before noticing the fluttering wings of a butterfly. He jumped to catch it, only to have it swoop out of reach. He crashed into the meadow and bounced back up, missing it wildly.
    “Sparky!” The sickly-sweet voice of the girl caught his attention. He perked his ears up as he saw the little girl walking up the hill with a basket in hand. He ran up to her, barking joyously as she pulled from her basket dried meat; his favourite!
    As he gnawed on the dried meat another voice, this one much older. “Ann, where are you?” He saw a much taller girl wander over the hill. “Ann, what are you doing…” Her eyes landed on the tiny pup “Ann get away from it!”
    The wolf cocked his head to the side as the taller girl pulled Ann away forcibly. He barked few times as he tried to after the couple before they locked the vault in the currently before being kicked by the running tall girl. Tumbling across before coming to a stop.

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