I Signed Up To My School's Writing Contest And We Have To Write A 1200 Characters Text. The Theme Is

What the fuck just happened, he thought as he stood in a white room.

One moment he was in his garden, fixing the new table he had built, and the next he was in a seemingly never-ending white space. Was this heaven or something ? Had he died? Or maybe this was some kind of hospital room – could be, the lights there are always so blinding!

"Hello?" He called out, anxiously. "Anyone's there?"

He turned in slow circles, half expecting something to attack him from nowhere.

He jumped as a door opened with a swoosh – he swore there was nothing but white there a moment ago ! Some kind of creature walked in, wearing an astronaute-like combinaison. Could have been a human if not for its sluggish gray skin and mop of tantacles where hair should be. Its unnaturally black eyes didn't help either.

What was this thing? Where was he? Was this a dream? He pinched himself to check ; it hurt.

The alien-monster-astronaute spoke, clicking furiously at its collar. "Is this translation device working?" Then, slower, "can you understand me?"

He nodded, not quite grasping on the situation at hand. The alien – it had to be that – continued. "Listen, I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for three days so I can get my parents off my back." It explained.

I'm sorry, what? He thought.

Frowning, he voiced his concerns. "Wait, hold on. What are you? And where am I – how am I here?"

The alien smiled then, contempt that he hadn't rejected its proposal just yet. "My name is—"

He guessed that translation device didn't work well because the next sounds didn't seem like words, or a name for that matter.

"— and I come from the planet," some more unintelligible words. "You are in my spaceship."

He shook his head, almost laughing at the impossible situation he was in. He was in space, with an alien who wanted him to pretend to be its boyfriend for three days. Who would believe that?

"Sure," he finally answered. "I'll do it, I'll be your fake boyfriend."

Would it have been anyond else, they probably would be freaking out right now. But he personally didn't care. He was going to do that just because why not? It wasn't like he had much to loose anyway.

You were just sucked up and abducted by a UFO. The alien inside addresses you, “Is this translator working? Listen. I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for three days so my parents will get off my back about it.”

✨reblog if you're accepting anonymous asks about anything✨

"How would you define love ?"

Love is like stargazing but choosing to look only at the one small star most people don't notice, because to you it is the one that shines the brightest.

Love is like drowning under water but doing it willingly if it means that the one person you care about will be able to breathe a moment longer.

Love is like being in a field of wildflowers but not picking any because you would rather let them grow and watch them bloom from afar rather than hold them close, knowing that they would die.

But love is also all the small things you do every day to help people. It is also noticing the small quirks someone has yet appreciating them even more for their uniqueness instead of judging them for it.

Love can come in many ways, shapes or forms, it can be grand but it can be small. It can be hidden and kept secret, or loud and bold.

Love doesn't have to be perfect or precise, it can be complicated and strange and unexpected, but it is always beautiful.

“ For a star to be born, there is one thing that must happen: a gaseous nebula must collapse.

So collapse. Crumble.

This is not your destruction.

This is your birth. ”

Zoe Skylar

Your father planted a tree and said, ‘As long as this tree is alive and healthy, so is my son.’ That was 200 years ago. Today, the tree still stands, defying time, but what of the son?

Found another prompt on pinterest, here's what i wrote

I would like to take some time to appreciate the irony, of a god as old as eternity being mistaken.

If I were to ask you what your thoughts were about Death, the big old guy with the scythe and the creepy cloak, what would you say? That Death brings desperarion and desolation, grief and pain and nothing more. Some might even fear him.

But in this apocalyptic wolrd, things are different, because if all humans die, so does Death.

For what is the Grim Reaper without souls to reap?

Nothing, exacly.

So Death does as best he can, leaving clues, messages and warnings in his trail, hoping to help any poor soul who might look close enough to notice it. They might not be able to see him, but common sense get better as people fight for survival, and gut feelings – Death's indications, really – are often more important.

The survivors have started to realize only now that a higher being watches over them. Is it God or the Saints? No, it's Death itself. But were you to ask them, they would answer you truthfully that the entity protecting them is known as Life.

Ironic, isn't it?

At least Death thinks so, laughing every time he remembers this.

To any suicidal followers I may have: This is a sign to not kill yourself. You are loved and the world is special because you are in it. Keep holding on.

-PLEASE REBLOG THIS YOU MAYBE ARE SAVING SOMEONES LIFE

You are special and amazing , If you need to talk or some help send me a dm and I will talk to you.

I'm out of inspiration and bored so if anyone has any ideas/prompts or just wants to request a poem, my ask box is open. You could even just send a random word or a theme for the peom and I'll try to come up with something.