Day 47 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a story where a character’s weakness works in their favor.
Shannon: My entire life I have never been much of a leader. I’ve always tended to stray to the back of the line and let someone else make the hard decisions. I was told many times I could never succeed if I always stayed in the background, and for a while I believed them. I thought I would always be a follower and never feel the joy of true freedom, but they were wrong.
After years of supporting other people I learned how to decipher the difference between the best and the worst leaders. With all the time I spent in line I learned who I wanted to keep following, and who I needed to break away from. I also developed some close friendships with leaders who took me with them for life-changing opportunities.
I always thought there was something wrong with me because I never felt the drive to guide others to greatness. Now I know that you don’t always have to be the one who gets everyone to the finish line. You just have to be there to cross the line, and enjoy the company you’ve surrounded yourself with. Trust me, it will taste just as sweet.
Erin: The one and only time that I ever cried in my life was in fifth grade. I needed to pass my spelling test with 100% to move up to my last elementary level. To accomplish the feat, I stayed up all night studying with my best friend. After breaking down in tears once she screamed at me to “buck up.” She could easily say that as a normal average speller. That’s when I broke into tears though.
Rachel wouldn’t let me quit though, she stuck with me and graded my tests until I got my 100%. She stuck with me through the spy academy and she was sticking with me through the mission we needed complete to save our positions. “Passcode,” I requested and made sure my ear piece was in.
“Playwright42,” Johnathan feed us the information.
“Perfect,” Rachel cheered and started typing away.
“Wait,” I screamed fully aware we only had one chance to try a code.
“What,” she scoffed removing her hands from the panel.
“It’s spelled W-R-I-G-H-T,” I warned.
“W-R-I-T-E is how it’s spelled actually,” she tried to correct me.
“You’re the one who taught me how to spell it,” I yelled. “It’s not about how it should be, it’s about how it is,” I reminded her of her own words of advice.
“You’re talking about the spelling test where you got the better score than me,” she seemed to have an epiphany.
“Yes,” I sighed relived. “So, trust me.”
And she did, and the only reason we were able to complete our mission was because I was a bad enough speller that I had studied words like playwright until my eyes were completely devoid of moisture.
No bad traits, just bad attitudes.