Today I’m going to write based on a prompt that my friends Tara and Kristen have given over on Studio30 Plus. I’m going to use a name, place, object prompt I received the other day from my friend Eva which was: name is Santana, place is Seattle, and object is a cameo pendant. It’s going to be YA Paranormal because that’s my fave, as I’m sure many of you already know! So, I wrote and did not edit. Because that’s how I roll. Hope it turned out okay.
1. Go write something using the prompt – fiction, poetry, thrillers, fantasy, romance, personal memoir… anything.
2. Use either prompt, in any tense or form, as long as it’s grammatically correct.
3. Try to keep your missive to 500 words or less, but don’t worry too much about length, we won’t count.
4. Come back here to link up in the comment section below.
5. Deadline to enter Saturday, midnight CST (5 a.m. Sunday GMT).
6. Only one entry per person.
Lackluster and/or Boring:
[adj] lacking in vitality, force, or conviction
Santana groaned and slapped the snooze so hard that her alarm clock bounced off the rickety table that masqueraded as a night stand. She buried her face into her pillow and pulled the covers up over her head. Why does school have to start so early? Calliope, her cat burrowed between her legs and purred, encouraging her to stay in bed longer. She obliged and felt herself fall.
The alarm sounded again. There was no avoiding it, school wasn’t going away for another year. And then there was college. And then there was the rest of her life to get up early and go to work like her parents. I should have slept more when I was little because I’ll never have that chance again. She could hear her mom banging around in the kitchen which was directly below her bedroom. Hopefully she was making a pot of coffee. It was definitely a two cup kind of morning.
Santana pushed Calliope gently aside and reluctantly made her way out of her really cozy, warm bed. She threw on clothes that may have been clean, threw her hair into a messy bun and headed downstairs to caffeinate. Her dad was away at a tech conference, learning some mumbo jumbo she’d never understand. So, she knew her mom would be grumpy, she always was when her dad was away. Which meant, minimal morning conversation was in order.
When Santana walked into the kitchen, her mom shoved a cup of coffee into her hand and groggily muttered, “Good morning honey.”
“Hey mom.” She took her mug and hopped up onto a wobbly bar stool that was poised in front of the breakfast counter.
“This came for you yesterday while you were at the library. I forgot to leave it on your bed before I left for my book club.” She handed Santana a boring looking, paper bag wrapped box.
Inspecting it, “Who is this from?” She hadn’t ordered anything from online and it wasn’t her birthday until the summer.
Her mom buttered toast and shrugged, “No clue. I guess you’ll find out when you open it.”
There wasn’t enough time to fight with all the tape that kept whatever was inside the box a prisoner so she shoved it into her backpack figuring she’d open it when she got to West Seattle High, her home away from home. Although, she preferred this home because she could lock herself away in her bedroom and avoid all the daily high school pecking order drama.
“Gotta go or I’ll miss the bus!” Santana yelled over her shoulder as she headed out the door toward the driveway which doubled as the bus stop. Unsmiling, her mom waved to her out the window.
Perfect timing, the bus was screeching its way to a stop and the doors creakily sprung open to allow her to enter. She found Crew, her best friend, in their usual seat. He scooted over to make room for her and her overflowing backpack. She kept everything in it to avoid going to her locker, she couldn’t stand Shay, her head cheerleader locker partner and biggest mean girl in all of history. Santana wasn’t as popular as Shay and therefore, it made her one of Shay’s victims. It was best to just steer clear of her, even if it meant having a lopsided body by age 17.
Without saying a word to Crew, she pulled the little brown package out of the front pocket of her backpack and inspected it. She’d definitely break a nail trying to open the thing but her curiosity was overwhelming and nails grew back.
She picked at the tape, trying to find the end part while Crew watched. He nudged her with his shoulder, “What’s that?”
“Yeah, no idea.” Finally, she found where the tape had ended and started pulling at it.
“How hard is it to open a tiny package?” His green eyes laughed at her as she struggled.
Frustrated, she shoved the package toward him, “You try.”
Like magic, the tape and paper came away and revealed an equally boring, plain white box. The type you get in a jewelry store when you buy one of their inexpensive items. As Crew was about to take the lid off, Santana snatched the box out of his hands, “No way, I never get gifts.”
He held his hands up defensively, “I was just trying to protect you, in case this was filled with venomous poison or something equally destructive.”
Rolling her brown eyes at him, she tucked her bangs, which were growing out but couldn’t yet be tossed into the ponytail, behind her ear and removed the lid of the box and inspected it for a note of some kind. The only thing she saw was a layer of white cushion hiding what was inside. No clues were left as to who sent this to her. So, she pulled out the packaging and let it drop to the filthy floor of the bus, alongside candy wrappers and crumpled papers.
Nestled on top of another cotton cushion was an tiny antique cameo pendant. The setting was made of an elaborate gold filagree, much daintier than anything she would ever wear. But, what stood out most was the white image on the lavender background. The amount of intricate detailing was incredible. Some sort of artistic genius must have spent hours making this, once upon a long time ago.
She put the cameo in the middle of her palm. Sweat beaded her upper lip and she felt a little lightheaded. She looked over at Crew whose huge eyes had grown even larger. They were both stunned speechless. Because, despite the obvious antiquity of the gifted cameo pendant she held, the face etched and painted onto it was the same exact one that was staring into it.