Back in October 2024, with the encouragement of a friend and fellow writer, I jumped into a new challenge and joined my first Writing Battle! And now I can finally talk about it :D
Writing Battles are offered every few months, alternating between flash fiction and short stories. Participants are randomly assigned one of 4 genre, along a setting and character prompt that must be included in the story. You are able to redraw your genre and prompts a limited number of times, but I didn't feel I needed to (seriously, I think I got pretty luck with my draw).
You get one week to write and submit the story. That in itself was a great challenge, balancing life, my own projects, and this new writing challenge. Following the deadline the stories are peer judged, or professionally judged depending on which battle you've signed up for. Once the results are tallied the winners of each pool are announced and go into the final showdown! And amazingly, I made it to the Final Showdown!
That was an amazing feeling and I'm honestly so proud of myself for that. While the idea of actually winning something is obviously exciting, what I really loved about the opportunity for the challenge. Having to create a brand new story with required prompts is already a great writing exercise, but to make it all fit into maximum 2000 words made it all the more interested. And seeing the variety of ways different authors interpreted their prompts was super interesting, as well as a great reminder of how subjective writing can be.
I sadly lost in the Final Showdown, but again, that wasn't the goal. This was the first official short story I've ever written. Irregardless of the outcome, I am happy to share with you the results of my first Writing Battle. So without further ado, here are my prompts and the short story I created.
The Curse of Contempt
We are not alone on the beach. The jagged tip of the rocks digging into the soles of my sandals is as sharp as the presence around me. I smell the salt air as it fills my lungs, but the birds sound distant. We are getting close to the cave.
In between steps I glance down at the ocean that swirls amongst the volcanic boulders that make up my path. It reminds me all too much of my own nausea. On a normal day the smell of the sea would make me smile. I love when the ocean throws the brine into the air and it showers me like glittering rain. Even when the sun’s warmth is followed by the nip of early winter cold, the beach is my favourite place. Usually.
Today, it is the last piece of comfort I have against Tia’s glare.
“Stop stalling. I don’t care if it gets dark while we’re out here.” She passes me on the rocks, her pace far more determined. I hesitate, allowing her to get a few stones ahead of me.
How many times do I have to say this is a bad idea?
“And if you say this is a bad idea one more time, our deal is off.” She stops and turns back to me with a sneer-like smile. “I’ll tell everyone that you’ve been hiding that your mom’s been M.I.A for months.” The breeze catches her brown curls as if on cue, pushing them out of her face and drawing my attention to her big blue eyes. Evil eyes. She turns away from me.
I don’t know how Tia discovered my mother was missing. It has been years actually, not months, but it is a problem if people find out. Adults ask too many questions when people go missing. I don’t want them asking questions. I like my life on my own. I like the quiet.
It's not worth it, I want to say. But I have already tried that. I follow after Tia. “The cave is forbidden for a reason."
“Yeah, yeah, trampling on sacred ground, kids going missing. You know my grandmother says your sister was ‘taken by the angry spirits’ of the cave.” I can feel Tia rolling her eyes. “As if she didn’t just run away from that dump you call a house.”
Heat spreads from my gut to the tips of my ears. I press my lips together, holding back my anger. It was anger that took my mother away.
“Now you’re gonna take me to that cave and I’m going to prove to my stuck-in-the-eighteen-hundreds grandmother how ridiculous her stories are. Maybe then she’ll stop giving me shit about how I wanna live.”
“You should not be angry,” I warn Tia. “Your grandmother –”
“Shut up.” She glares at me before turning back to the path and speaking under her breath. “I don’t need a creep like you getting on my case too.”
I wonder what stories Tia’s grandmother has told her. Behave or the spirits will take you? That was usually how the stories went. Becca told me those stories while we had each other. Before she walked the same path Tia leads the way on now.
I should stop Tia. Would she really tell everyone the truth? I watch her ponytail sway as she marches on ahead of me. Of course she would tell everyone. She is angry and no one else would take her. I have no choice but to follow. I do not get angry.
This part of the island is always warm, even in the winter. The waves remain obediently behind the volcanic rocks that form a barrier along the bottom of the cave entrance. I think they look like sharpened teeth. The mouth of the cave gapes toward the sky as if ready to swallow the sun. Swallow us. We step onto its sandy tongue and venture inside.
Tia takes a few steps and stops because there are only a few steps left to go. “This is the haunted cave?” She huffs loudly, scowling at the dusk and dew that coats the stone walls around us. Despite her anger I see a shiver shake her body. “What a load of bullshit.”
I remain silent as I walk past her, the sand slipping up and into my sandals to scratch my soles. It’s familiar, but cold. A drop of water loses its grip on the stone above and plops onto my cheek, sliding down in a gentle caress. A finger tracing its way down my face.
The crack I knew was coming finally cuts through the air. I turn back to see Tia with one foot poised in the air while she looks worriedly at the sand. “What was that?”
“You stepped on a bone.”
Her big blue eyes widen in shock before quickly narrowing. While she uses it with abandon, that glare is not exclusive to Tia. It is a regular guest here, always accompanying those new to the cave.
“Nice try, but you can’t scare me.”
“I am not trying to.” I point to the sand.
She looks again and uses the bottom of her flip-flop to dust the sand away, revealing a cracked yellowed bone the length of her forearm.
Many people don’t realize that bones are only white when properly cleaned. The purity is lost when left to rot. My mother taught me that. It is her body strewn amongst the sand, after all.
Mother would be so angry with me if she knew I brought Tia here. Or any of the others.
Tia kneels down and pinches the bone between her fingers. Sand spills away as she holds it in the air. Her nose scrunches and she drops the bone again. “Gross. Nasty animal bones.”
I let out a sigh. I believe a part of Tia knows the truth of this place, but her anger blinds her. It is always blinding.
“How can everyone be so afraid of a room the size of a kitchen?” Tia rolls her eyes. “I can’t believe I wasted my afternoon for this.” Her eyes focus on me again. “You’re so screwed.”
Her threat makes me flinch. “I did as you asked.”
Tia scoffs. “And it was a waste of my time. I can’t get that back! Some of us actually have a life.” She marches back to the entrance of the cave.
Not all anger is about revenge but revenge does not exist without anger, even if that revenge is as shallow as the soul who carries it.
My feet are heavy in the sand. Heat simmers in my gut. I swallow it down with the lump in my throat. “Please.” The word feels weak. “I… I will show you the true cave.”
Tia turns back to me. The stone teeth are silhouetted behind her figure. “What true cave?”
A sense of sturdiness settles inside of me. My next steps are sure, my words without fluctuation. “The truth is back here.” I lead Tia to the end of the cave. It took many visits before I earned the right to find this passage. Now I hold out my hand and pass it through the secret gap that exists where two cave walls overlap, breaking the illusion of a solid wall.
Her eyes widen for a moment. Then she smiles. “Guess you are good for something after all.” She shoves my shoulder, forcing me to step back as she goes on ahead. It is a narrow gap. Tia uses her forceful will to squeeze through.
I pause, enjoying the brief quiet. I would have been happy to keep it, had Tia not ripped it away from me. Her threat lingers in the front of the cave while I inch my body through the gap and into the secret room.
There is enough light from the dying sun outside to allow us to see through the dim grayness. The sand cushions my steps, welcoming me back. I smile.
Tia eyes the cave around us. She can reach up to touch the ceiling, but the room is wide enough that two adults could lie down feet to feet. That is how they were buried.
“What are these?” Tia traces her fingertips along the carvings in the wall. She looks at me when I don’t answer. “Why are you smiling?”
My smile drops. “They are headstones.” Dulled from dust and time, but still visible. Each carving is a series of stacked lines and swirls. Symbols whose meanings were lost from the island a long time ago. I don’t know the language, but I understand. “Did your grandmother not tell you this was a burial ground?”
Tia looks away. She pulls her fingers from the wall but continues to walk the room, looking at the carvings. “I thought she was just paranoid. She goes on and on about the traditions and…” Tia’s voice trails off at the corner of the cave next to me. She points to the wall. “Why does that one look… fresh compared to the others?”
I’m surprised she found it so quickly. Most don’t notice it at first, if at all. “That’s Becca.”
Those bright blue eyes widen again. There is the long, familiar pause, before she balls her hands into fists. “What the hell? You think that’s funny?”
I press my back to the cold stone. Blocking the entrance. “I did not laugh.”
But I feel laughter in the air. It is malicious and heavy, beating against my chest. I think Tia hears it too. Her eyes dart around the cave.
“What’s – what’s going on? This is a joke right?”
I shake my head.
Her eyes turn angry and she stomps toward me, kicking up the sand. She reaches for me. I don’t move as she grabs the front of my shirt. “You’re sick, you know that?”
“I told you not to be angry.”
“Angry?! You killed –” Her voice is cut off as her body stiffens.
I dislodge my shirt from her grip as gently as I can and step back. “I gave you a choice, but everyone always chooses to be angry.”
Tia’s hands go to her throat. Her mouth opens and closes, like a fish that has been pulled out of water.
My mother did that too when the spirts wrapped around her throat and squeezed. They did what I had always wished I could do. They hated the anger as much as I did. So, when my mother tracked me down to the cave in anger, they made her go away.
Becca had known what killed our mother, but she was still angry when I continued to come to the cave. I tried, really tried, to protect her from the spirits but they would not listen. Anger blinds all.
I buried Becca amongst the others laid to rest in the cave. She had taken good care of me. But even still, anger took her away.
Blood trickles down Tia’s throat from where she has scratched at her skin to try and get her breath back. She drops to her knees. I slowly lower myself to the sand, hugging my knees into my chest. I watch as she falls onto her cheek. The spirits are stealing her voice, her breath. Her life. She cannot use it to be angry anymore.
I wait while Tia wriggles on the ground, the sand stirring around her. Granules fly out in all directions, then fall still and disappear amongst the rest. Visible one moment, erased in the next.
Tia’s flailing shrinks to small twitches.
I will bury her too, I think. There is someone who will miss her. She mentioned her grandmother. I would like to hear what stories the grandmother knows. Why the spirits of the sacred cave erase anger. I only know what I have seen, but not what came before me. Do I want to know?
Tia goes still.
I smile.
I like the quiet.
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