Okay. So I like to write. A lot and I figured since that's all RPing really is, that you guys do too. Once a week Ill post a prompt here. You guys can respond to the prompts here. OR you can create a thread with your wolves in response to the prompt. Just make sure to post a link here. Id love to see what you guys do with them :D For every prompt that I post Ill be sure to add my own writing too, after all, that's the fun part ;)

Post prompt for the week: Write a story about a lie
Next prompt will be posted on wednesday.


I stared down at the test in my hand. A piece of plastic really, yet it held so much importance. Lives changed everyday depending on what this little test said. My hand quaked as I waited, feeling like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, terrified I was going to fall. The symbol slowly appeared, taking its time, like I wasn't clutching at it, desperate to see what it said. The little plus stared me down, as if daring me to contradict it. I nearly choked. My heart leaped into my throat, racing a mile a minute. I felt as if I was falling, off the edge, with nothing to catch me. Then I do fall, backwards onto the toilet seat. The plastic with its taunting plus, clatterd to the tile and I stared blankly at the wall. What am I going to do? How am I going to tell him? We're not ready. There was a knock at the door and I quickly stuffed the test into the trash. After I opened the door he asked, "Are you okay?" I plaster a smile on my face. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Everyone had scars. She did, her best friend did, as did the many faces around her. In fact, scars weren't the only thing they all had in common...it was as plain as the masks that everyone wore. Whether it be with no emotions or with make up caked all over their face...it was how everyone had covered up their past...places and people that they never wanted to ever be mentioned again. This was the past that anyone could easily dig up. Eventually, normal lies that she would give would just end up being something of daily routine...something that would become a truth in her mind.

"What happened to your wrist?" they would ask her.

In simple reply, the girl shrugged, her eyes briefly glancing down at the poorly covered, straight scars before answering, "I don't remember. I think my parents said it had to do with a cat when I was younger...I always liked to play around."

The answers would come effortlessly and eventually so would her unhealthy habit.

The girl dug her nails into her hand, the ragged edges making scratch marks on her hand, her eyes welling up with tears. Her hand shook, and she gasped for air, the asthma in her lungs acting up already. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing. Just her breathing. She needed to calm down. Just calm down. Finally, the air flew into her lungs, but stopped whenever she moved to get up. A soft gasp escaped her as she fell, her entire body shaking now. Shaking with fear, her blue eyes closed.

Then, her best friend was there, her head raised, shouting. "Get someone! She can't breathe! Get someone!" The others paused, then ran, while the girl tried to focus on her breathing. It didn't work much, but she was okay for now. When they got back, asking if she was okay, the girl let out a shivering sigh. "Yeah. I'm fine." She lied.

{I do have asthma, and it's terrifying whenever I have an asthma attack. I kinda panic like that, too.}