Writing Prompt #1

Prompt: Pick up the book nearest to you. Use the last sentence on page 89 as today's writing prompt.

I picked "The Book of Tomorrow" by Cecelia Ahern, haven't read it yet and there's probably no character named Cedric but I actually quite liked what I wrote. Which doesn't happen that often.

I was smoking in my room and I didn't open the window because it was absolutely freezing out and whenever I opened my doors they used to just slam shut, which was a total head wreck. The air was filled with smoke soon, making it hard to see, even harder to breathe and hardest to think. I could totally just kill the world right now.
My mood, of course, had nothing to do with Cedric. Definitely not. It was the fact that I was covered with smoke and couldn't open door nor window and had missed the bus in the morning and broken my favorite mug and my mum had stressed me out and my period was probably on the way.
I didn't give a damn about that Cedric guy, really. Why should I? He was just an idiot with a giant ego and I didn't need any more of those people in my life. Perhaps I didn't need people in general in my life. I should just stay in my room, filled with smoke and frustration and never leave again.

I did not need Cedric, didn't care for him and it certainly did not bother me at all that he had spent every minute of last week talking to me and making me laugh with his stupid jokes and then just stopped without any kind of explanation, as if I had done something wrong and he wouldn't tell me. Now he probably wanted me to feel bad and guilty and wonder what it was that I had messed up. But he could forget that, I didn't mind at all if he talked to me or not.

Cedric could go screw himself, really.


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