Survival with Michael: On the castle steps

Here is my contribution to Ermilia’s Weekly Picture it and write prompt.

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“Did I advise you that this is a bad idea,” I said.
“Did I advise you that we haven’t eaten in two days,” she replied.
“But did I advise you that people seldom make it out of situations like this?”

The wooden porch creaked under our boots, but the crashing waves from the shore below along with the pounding rain quieted our noise to my liking. The castle had the greatest percentage of keeping extra food lying about in this time of shortage. I could likely withstand nine more hours without nourishment, but Rose needed it presently.

The bright moon was high and allowed us to see more proficiently out on the cliff then under the canopy of the coastal forest. The milky light showed a long deck that wrapped around the entirety of the castle. Why you would need a second floor wraparound porch seemed pointless to me, but nevertheless there was a replica porch on both the second and third floor. The floors didn’t end there either. Above the two pointless decks, there were three more housing levels.

“Should we try the door or a window,” Rose asked.

The front doors were solid oak with intricate carvings. I looked at the magnitude of windows. There were too many  to count whilst your stomach makes regrettable noises even though the number would be simple to find, for If you took each window on the first floor and multiplied it by the number of replica floors above and then added that number to the multiplied amount of the different floors above the replica floors, you would get the number of windows for the front of the castle and since the front of the castle had a high chance of matching the back of the castle you would take your total of the front and multiply it by two, but then you would also need to do the same arithmetic procedure for the side of the castle and multiply that number by two and finally you would add both totals together getting the exact number of the dusty dirty windows on the structure, but I was lacking far too much nutrition to waste time on such frivolous calculations.

“Okay, from the annoying silence I’m going to assume you thought way too much about that question,” she said.

Rose kneeled below the door and rolled out the shiny toolset, one of our only possessions of value. I could pick the lock faster, but I appreciate the secret smile she has every time the lock tumbles in the chamber. Right then the wind howled, whipping her blond curls into the air. I also appreciated her curls.

What if this time the home owner was an excellent shot? If only the climate hadn’t turned for the worse, maybe we would have had better hunting along our journey.

“There might be someone home,” I said.
“Michael, didn’t you notice the chimney smoke?”
“Didn’t you notice the 2,682 windows?”

She stopped and turned slowly towards me. I don’t particularly like it when she stares at me blankly with those large green eyes.

She cleared her throat and said, “Is there more or is this one of those statem—“

“Of course there is more. If we happen to become trapped within this monstrosity, window fifteen on the first floor is a great escape route due to the fact that a hedge lies beneath the window.”

She did one of those one eyebrow raises with squinty eyes. I asked her what that meant once before and she told me it meant she believed I was making up things which I told her that I do not in fact make things up, ever.

“I believe you’re in a foul mood due to undernourishment,” I said.
She huffed, gathered the tools, pushed past me and stomped off the deck. I thought she was going to keep walking back into the shadowed forest. Maybe she would want to go hunting instead, but then she turned right back around, up the stairs, and into my face.

“Don’t you want to eat,” she asked.
“Yes.” I let out a breath. My brain sometimes blanks when rose gets close to me. I’m not even sure if it was me talking. “Please except my apology. I was in fear for your life, but now I know no one should anger you when you’re in a foul mood due to hunger.”

She knelt back down to her station and said, “If you say one more thing about my malnutrition or hunger I’m going to punch your pretty face.”

The door clicked and inched open, but she was looking at me instead of her progress. I frowned.
“What now,” she asked.
“You didn’t smile.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Are you hungry or not,” I said and strode past her inquisitive look and into the waiting darkness. We would find something to eat and not talk about smiles or hidden feelings.


I love these prompts. They are fast, fun, and It’s a great way to keep practicing writing skills without the stress of struggling with plot structures and all the other stresses of story making. 🙂 Babbling here, but my point is if you enjoy reading them you should really try writing to them! Just click HERE and it will take you back to Ermilia’s blog who posts the prompts every Sunday.  Hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave a comment, and come back again! –Katie

P.T.S.D and 1% Milk

Tap. Tap. Tap.

She looks at me and waits

If I leave will I find you again?

I know it’s just to the back of the store

What if I can’t find you?

I can’t do today

So many people, so many strangers

“Go get the milk” she said

God, I’m 21 and I’m broken

What is wrong with me?

Why does my brain have to be broken today?

Yesterday I shopped just fine by myself!

One step, two steps, three seconds of holding

My breath…

Time is slowing and speeding up

People are blurring. Am I drunk?

Why can’t I breathe? It’s just 1% milk…

I found some old notes from a year ago and decided to write this. You can’t choose when or where you might have a melt down when you have P.T.S.D and I feel like this is a good example for people who want to understand what could happen to someone who looks completely fine and healthy on the outside, but waging a war on the inside.

Nobody knew I had a problem except my family. Sometimes it’s hard having a fear inside you that only shows up sometimes. It’s like if you didn’t have a fear of spiders for most of the year, but during the year of September you had nightmares about them and every time you saw one it made you shiver and want to run.