Today’s
prompt is the start of a story.
I have no idea what happens next. The only way
to find out is to start writing …
Or
draw a comic strip. Maybe start by drawing the opening I’ve written below, then carry on
with the discovery of what is in the bag.
Or write a poem, or make a video
… whatever idea it sparks in you. After all, there could be anything in
that bag …
IT
STARTED like a million other Mondays. Sleepy. Late for school. A vague bad mood
hovering. There was nothing to suggest that something was about to happen that
would change my life forever.
Then Mac leaned across my desk
during registration. ‘Meet us by the bins at break,’ he said. ‘Got something to
show you.’ The gleam in his eyes triggered a familiar shiver—one part
excitement, one part dread.
My stomach was jumping by the time I
arrived at the back of the school kitchens two hours later. The others were
already there—gathered around an old maroon Adidas kit bag, all scuffed up and
covered in graffiti.
‘You
dragged me here for that?’
Tash rolled her eyes. ‘Look inside,’ she
said, grinning in a way that made me suspect I was being set-up.
All eyes were on me, so I shrugged like
this was no biggie, then crouched over the bag, my guts squirming like a sack
of snakes.
Knowing Mac, there could be ANYTHING in
here—a dead cat, stolen booze, a live rat perhaps . . .
I pulled back the zip, bracing myself
not to react.
I’ll be honest—of all the
possibilities scrolling through my mind, none of them prepared me for what was
actually inside.
I
swore. ‘Is that . . .?’