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(Yet another) Challenge of Inspiration 5
I came to a realization, after the 4th, that the first challenge of inspiration is inherently up to me. Apparently, 4's phrases weren't terribly inspiring, so that's on me. Hopefully this one will go better. Use the phrases below in a unique story or poem which begs a rejoinder of some kind from other Prosers. Responses need not be entered directly into the challenge--feel free to compose your response as a regular post, then put a link to it in the comments of the original piece so we can all find it. One winning original entry and one winning response entry will be blessed with a life-changing $5 prize! That's a whole pizza at Little Caesar's! (Or half a salad... somewhere... where people eat salads.) ______________Here are your challenge phrases: _______________ at your doorstep, Hate's last breath, carry on, alternate truth, the undertaker's dream, backward curiosity, nearing the End of Days, unnatural motives, I think of scales, forever in a ____________ Have fun! And no, "have fun" is not one of the phrases. Ugh... I know at least two of you are going to title your entry Have Fun just to mess with me. You know what? I don't care if you have fun or not--just do the damn challenge!
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0la_8
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Wrong Turn

The week dragged on. The only thing in my mind was just "carry on until Saturday."

Eventually, the week closed off. I sprawled on the bed and scrolled through my phone. Barely five minutes later, I looked back towards the window. It was still there. I stood at that window, staring at that car, forever in a stalemate with it.

A loud ping came from my phone. Picking it up, I noticed a message from Wade.

"Clara, Amelia & I are here at your doorstep," it said. I typed a quick reply, pulled out my backpack, put it on, and walked toward the door. I briefly stopped at the kitchen.

"Mama! I'm going to hang out with some friends," I called.

"Okay! Text me and don't come home late!"

I met up with my friends outside. We chatted for a bit, and everything was mundane for an outsider looking in. No unnatural motives, no ideas about searching for alternate truths.

The vague chatter ended as quickly as it started.

"So, how are we going to do this," I asked, shifting uncomfortably. Clara shrugged and walked across the street. She stepped toward the car. The rest of us followed like ducklings. A small pit began forming in my stomach. I felt as if we were nearing the end of days.

We stood around the car expectedly. Our eyes were watchful for anything that could happen. Still, nothing. I think of scales when I look at the car. Unbalanced and unfixable scales. This backward curiosity could cost us our lives, a voice in my head, deepening the pit. We're vulnerable here, and we shouldn't be here, and we shouldn't be snooping around a stranger's car. Out risks are the undertaker's dream.

"What's that?" I sampled out of my fear. Amelia sprinted over to the hood of the car. By one of the wheels, a neat burgundy envelope was neatly sat on the gravel. Amelia opened it gently. We all huddled around it. She froze as she read it. A sense of panic filled us. The tension was so thin you could cut a knife.

"What does it say," I whispered. Amelia passed it to me, her face going pale.

"I know your curiosity. I have seen everything. This world is not as you think it is. So, stay far away. I swear on Hate's last breath if your naiveté doesn't kill you, I will."

"At least they were direct?" The head shaking and shoves drove the point home for Wade's untimely jokes.

For a while, no one spoke. The fear silenced out voices.

Eventually, we decided to leavem we didn't even cross the street when Clara gasped, making us freeze again.

"Look!" Clara grabbed my arm as we all watched in shocked awe.

Navy blue smoke oozed slowly from the key hole of the house in front of us.

It surrounded it as the door creaked open.

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