Monday's Minute Challenge: Writing prompt contest for teens & up!

A quick writing prompt challenge (and contest) for teens to get their creative juices flowing for the new week. A new prompt is posted, and winners are announced, every other Monday.

1. The entry must be between 150 - 300 words. (In order to see how many words your entry is, write it in Microsoft Word, or you can copy and paste it here.)
2. The deadline for the contest will be the Thursday after next. 
3. The winners will receive a badge for their blog.
4. The winner will be chosen based on the judges's preferences, as well as the following questions: Does this entry capture my attention immediately? Does it make me want to continue reading? Is the writing clear? They will also take into consideration the writer's voice and style--not necessarily technical issues, such as grammar, punctuation, etc. 
5. This is only for fun and to stretch your writing muscles--not necessarily to be taken too seriously. =)

 

The judge panel chooses these winners based on a point system. Keep in mind that the judges are not aware of which entry belongs to which participant until after the judging is complete.

"You seem tense this evenin', sir. Beg your pardon for sayin' so." Abigail curtsied, and was careful not to let her tray overturn.

"Oh, I don't mind. I know it rather well myself." The old man sighed, rubbing his neck. He took the wine that she offered. “I’ve not seen you before.”

"My name's Abigail Brightly, sir. New around here."

The gentleman set his empty glass back on her tray, looking thoughtful. "I... have a niece named Abigail Brenton. Strange, isn't it? You've the same initials. Though... who can say how long since I’ve seen her? She asked to come a few months back, so as to attend the party this evening. But I...." His brow furrowed. Giving a nervous chuckle, he shook his head. "Go along, now, and attend to the guests."

She had not been elsewhere very long before a cry went up and a crowd began to gather. "Lord Brenton is ill!"

A panic went up in the girl's heart. "How is he? What is wrong?" Her servant's speech was gone.

"Poison," a man told her, his face red with shock and anger. His eyes shifted to the tray of empty wine glasses in the servant's hands. In the next instant, he pulled her to the dying patient.

Though his vision was darkening, Lord Brenton testified at once on seeing the servant girl's face, "Yes. She… my... wine..."

Abigail's eyes grew large as she cried, "Uncle! I’m Abigail, your niece, Abigail. I just wanted to see you! I'm so sorry, I don't know how..."

Her tray was wrenched away to be examined. Traces of arsenic were found in the lord's cup.

Though she tried to explain, no one would listen. Whoever poisoned him had just gotten rid of two nobles in the family.

Congratulations, Maddie! Click here for your badge, and don't forget to claim your points here. =) 

Her nails clicked against the glass cup as she reached to grabbed it. Her face was tranquil as she turned to face us. A smile spread across her face. “A drink?”

We shook our head no, still saying nothing, just watching. She shrugged and walked back towards her throne.  The sound of her shoes as they hit the floor was the only sound that echoed about the room. She sat down on her throne, longing backward and propping her feet on a small footstool.

“You wanted something?” She asked idly, as she swished her wine about the cup.

My sister cleared her throat. “Yes, actually we did.”

The woman looked down at my sister as she was the most uninteresting person to ever grace the earth.

My sister clear her throat again. “We-we want to see one of your prisoners.”

The woman feet slid off the stool and hit the floor with a loud thunk, followed by her wild laughter. “One of my prisoners? Darling, I don’t keep prisoners. It is too much work to have to fed them, and they get so dirty.” She shivered. “No, dear, I think that would be quite impossible. I don’t have any prisoners.”

My sister look over at me, her eyes wide. I cleared my throat and took a small step forward.

“Where are all of your prisoners? I mean, what did you do with them.”

The woman looked over at me, the same bored expression still on her face, she laughed as if I was a little child who had asked a dumb question. “Why I killed them of course!”

Death. He was dead. The one person that could have helped us was now dead. Horror flood my senses and I remember nothing more than being dragged out of the queen’s palace and thrown out into the streets.

Congratulations, Mary B! Click here for your badge, and don't forget to claim your points here. =)

Ever since Gretel and I had decided on this old witch, I’d had a bad feeling about the whole plan. We didn’t lack experience, no, Gretel and I had killed many more witches in their ovens since our first, but this one felt different.

“Stop worrying,” Gretel admonished me.

Not wanting to seem afraid, I said, “I’m not. I was just thinking about Father.”

Gretel sniffled, and I feared that I might’ve upset her about Father’s death again, so, trying to brighten us both up, I whispered conspiratorially, “Do you think she’ll be as rich as our first?”

“They’re never as rich as our first,” Gretel complained, and wiped her nose.

With similar quiet discussion, we eventually came to the house in the woods.

“Does it look familiar?” I asked Gretel.

She ignored my paranoia and broke off a piece from the window.

No sooner had I snagged a piece off the roof than a voice said, “Nibble, nibble, gnaw, who is nibbling at my little house?”

In the unison of months of practice, Gretel and I replied, “The wind, the wind, the heaven-born wind.”

Then the door opened and an aged woman appeared. She smiled a smile full of missing teeth and invited us inside. We followed her like good little children. The door shut abruptly behind us, but this was normal.

We sat down in the offered chairs and started gobbling up the food she laid on the table. Abruptly I straightened, feeling my eyelids droop. Gretel looked at me, her eyes already half closed. The woman stood in the corner, smiling at us, and I realized what I had seen before. This was the witch’s sister.

My last words were, “I told you we shouldn’t have done that.” Then I fell over, unconscious.

Congratulations, Michael! Click here for your badge, and don't forget to claim your points here. =)

Thanks so much to everyone who participated!

Pin this!

• Submit your response in the comments below, or post it on your blog via InLink (below).
• Your response should range between 150 - 300 words. 
• The deadline for the contest will be the Thursday after next. 
• If you'd rather not submit your post in the comments or on your blog, you may email it to me instead.

Choose at least one:

Note: You can always combine the prompts into one entry.

(Optional) Write a passage continuing your entry from last week week (or whichever week you'd prefer). If you can, try to continue it using one of the following prompts.

• Write a passage using these items: pillow, wings, mourning dove (submitted by Olivia)
• Write a passage based on this picture (submitted by Shelby)
• Write a passage either incorporating this phrase OR based on this phrase:  
  
  

  "I had the dream again." (submitted by Shelby)

Post your entry on your blog!:

If you're posting your entry on your blog, please add your link below:

Submit your prompt idea!:

The prompts that are used for Monday's Minute Challenge are submitted by the participants. 

Here's how this works:

• You will be able to submit 3 prompts each week in the same format as above: three objects, one picture, and a piece of dialogue or phrase.
• On Mondays, I will choose 3 prompts that have been submitted by 3 different people.
• If your prompt is selected, you will receive 2 points!
• You may submit in the comments below.
• You must only submit prompt ideas if you have participated in this week's contest. Otherwise, your prompts will not be considered.