That Scene Where Bolin Rips Off His Sleeves Hits Different

That scene where Bolin rips off his sleeves hits different

“ You are so brave and quiet I forgot you were suffering.”

- Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms

Tales from Friction Writing Class

write a character that is unreliable

For as long as I can remember, I have loved Halloween. I don't remember why, but I do. Maybe because it was one of the only nights of the year when my parents wouldn’t fight. Maybe because I was able to dress in as much black fabric and red paint as I wanted without our neighbors pointing out that "Girls shouldn't dress so gloomy." Maybe it was because my favorite photo of my brother was him falling asleep in a stroller with a Kitkat in his mouth. For whatever reason, I always looked forward to October 31st. But after sitting in a holding cell at 2am, covered in fake blood, I have started to rethink all the hype. 

The officer walked in. "Moralez, let's go." I got up and saw that I had left a red stain on the wooden bench where I had just sat. I hoped the officer wouldn't see and add it to the charges. 

He escorted me into a small dark room with a single light hanging from the ceiling. It looked just like the ones in every cop show.

"Alright, let's get started." He sat me down in a cold metal chair. Once he sat, I was able to get a good look at his face for the first time.

"Hey, I know you. Aren't you the hero cop of Maylan County?" He looked taken aback but pleased. "Well, thank you, but that was two years." 

"I know, but still. I followed that story for two whole months. No one could stop talking about it. You got shot in the arm taking down a Meth Lab and saved two kids as well. That is amazing."

The officer started to chuckle. "You really know a lot about that case." He looked down at the papers in front of him, still smiling. "It's kind of my thing. I'm a Journalism Major."

"That's a great field to go into. A lot of opportunities for jobs."

"Thank you, sir."

He looked down again and seemed to remember where we were."So," he started. "What were you doing in the graveyard? "

I tried to make myself look small and innocent. "Pulling a prank, it's Halloween."

"A prank on who?" He backed off a bit.

"Melody Ginmen. She's the one who called you, right?"

"I'm not allowed to reveal that information." He wrote something down. "The witness said that they saw someone devil worshiping. They reported strange lights, smoke, and a dark figure bathing in blood."

"Yeah, Melody started a rumor that I'm a Satanist, so I decided to give her what she wanted."

He was quiet for a moment. "And are you?"

I laughed. "Of course not. That's ridiculous. I made sure that Melody overheard me saying I would go to the graveyard. Then I bought a bunch of stuff on Amazon and made sure that she followed me out there."

He kept writing. "Why would she start this rumor?"

"Cus she hates me. Ever since I stopped going to church with my family five years ago, she and her friends have had it out for me."

"Interesting."

"You've probably heard of her family. They're crazy religious zealots. They don't go to the doctor. They don't watch PG-13 movies. They bully people in town and protest Halloween events."

He finished writing after a minute. "I've heard enough. I'll be right back." He walked out into the hall and started talking to some other officers. After a moment, I heard a voice exclaim “I KNOW WHAT I SAW.”

Within twenty minutes, I was in the back of a squad car, being driven back to my dorm hall. The new officer asked, “So what are you studying?” 

I smiled, “Religious studies.”

Tales from fiction writing class

Something you remember but you’re not sure why

I don’t know why I remember the light brown mushrooms that would sometimes grow by the flagpole. 

Sometimes, in the early hours of the morning, when I would be a safety patrol at my elementary school, it would be my job to raise the flag outside at the front of the building. The pole was surrounded by a circle of concrete that was surrounded by a circle of yellow and purple marigolds. On the side closest to the building, occasionally, there would be a mushroom that would grow there. 

Somedays, I would walk over it and try not to notice it, giving it only a sideways glance. Then, somedays, I would enjoy stepping on it and feeling my shoe softly squish it down into the dirt. I would never touch it with my hands because it could be poisonous and it would get in my mouth and kill me. 

I stomp it down then wait a month for it to regrow then I stomp it back down. Then the school gardener found out about it constantly regrowing and pulled it out by the roots and I was sad.  

Tales from Fiction writing class

Write a scene where a character has certain traits but those are never stated out but are made clear to through actions and dialog.

Traits: Jealousy, Ambition, and reflection 

Himmberton was not normal the type to give people much of a second glance, but he guessed today was different. It was probably because he had skipped lunch and his growling stomach was affecting his mood. 

The large crowds of people in the park were starting to make him feel little. The bench he was occupying was no longer comfortable but it seemed that there were too many eyes on him so he decided it would be better if he remained where he was. 

He scanned the crowd for anything that would capture his attention.

 There were two men dressed in suits, laughing while admiring their fancy watches as they gleamed in the sunshine. Himmberton didn't like those men. Sure, he loved shiny things as much as any creature, but they were being so showing about it. They were probably greedy and had gotten them by stepping on every bug that crossed their path for the fun of it. Bad men. They didn't deserve shiny things. He could afford one of those watches after a few months of working at the ice cream shop, but his money was suited for better things. He always served men like them in the store. Big, hoglike mounds of flesh, feasting away on the homemade ice cream. Then leaving a mess and no tip. 

After another moment, he couldn't take it anymore and looked back down at the grass. A Black Prickly Caterpillar towards his foot.

"Good Afternoon," Himmberton said in the most cheerful tone he could muster. " Is the weather being good to you?" The caterpillar continued its path towards his shoe.

"Oh! Allow me to help you up here." He picked up the little crawly awkwardly, trying his best not to scare it as he set it down on the other side of the bench. " There you go. We can't have you getting trampled now."

Himmberton looked away from his new comrade and back at the people in the park. 

"You know, the more time I spend here, I start to see why they prefer to be indoors," he said quietly. 

The caterpillar sat still in its spot.

"Oh, don't be like that! Look! At least the little ones are alright." Himmberton pointed to across the grass, where a group of little girls were chasing after a butterfly. 

He looked back down the caterpillar, hoping to see some reaction but the caterpillar remained at rest.

" I know you're right. Things can't stay this way. Say, I could use a hand with all this. Why don't you come with me? If you're so passionate, then you should do your part."

At that, the Caterpillar started to move again and crawl towards his lap.

" That's the spirit. Come on, we're burning daylight." In a quick swoop, Himmberton picked up the Caterpillar and dropped him into his front pocket. " I'm really glad I met you. I was having the worst day."

The two of them rushed out of the park and back towards the city to get started on Himmberton's plane. You see, Himmberton was no ordinary man. His body was actually a robotic human suit being piloted by a small bug. Soon all humans would pay for their misdeeds against his kind.

I started riding the bus on Saturday nights

I started riding the bus on Saturday nights after you left. 

When the bus driver asked me where I would get off I told him the mall but I had no intention to. I would just ride around in circles, listening to music, and stare out the window at the buildings bathed in the night light. 

I don't know why you affected me so much. I'd like to say it's because I gave you my virginity, but I'd be lying. 

Maybe I just like the bus. Being there in the darkest, sitting in the silence, it’s almost felt like meditating.