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At Least Seventeen Pictures
Johnny didn’t like kisses.
“Kiss kiss kiss kiss!”
“Noooo!” Johnny squirmed, whined, pushed away. “Nooooo!”
“Kiss kiss kiss kiss!” Mom grabbed Johnny anyway. “Come here, you! Muah! Muah!”
“Nooo! Noo, stoooop!” And Johnny finally managed to push Mom away when she started laughing too hard to keep a hold on him. “I don’t wanna!”
Johnny was almost seven, which was very old, but not enough for his tastes. He wanted to stay up late and watch TV, and he wanted to play games for more than an hour a day.
But most of all, the reason why he wanted to be a grown-up was her.
“Mom!” A girly voice. “Mom! Kiss kiss!”
Emily.
Emily was four, and she was a baby.
“Kiss kiss kiss! Muah!” Then Mom put Emily on the ground and pushed her towards Johnny. “Now go kiss your brother!”
Emily let out a toddler laugh, and then went for Johnny, arms up. “Kiss! Kiss!”
“NOOO!”
Johnny hated Emily. Dad had a little sister too and she was never around, because Dad was a grownup. Johnny couldn’t wait to grow up and get rid of Emily. That would be the day.
“Kiss! Kiss!”
“GET AWAAAAAAY!”
That would be the day.
“I don’t need the night light,” Johnny said, confident, to Dad. He was tucked in already. “Grownups don’t use it.”
“Hmm.” Dad smiled. “Well, just in case. We can see it from our room, right? Mom gets scared if it’s not on.”
Johnny relaxed. “Okay,” he said. “You can turn it on then.”
Truth is, Johnny liked the night light a lot. The room at night was—honestly—pretty scary. He had tried to sleep without it once, and he had cried. But Dad didn’t need it, because he was a grownup, so Johnny tried to tell himself that he could do without it.
Still, it was good that it was on. Johnny was glad Mom liked the night light so much. It was a relief. He tucked himself in some more, hugged his pillow, closed his eyes, and—
—he woke up.
It was raining, hard, and the drops went clack-clack-clack against the window. The room was dark. The night light should have been on, but it wasn’t on.
The door was open and the corridor was pitch-black. There were weird noises in the house. Creaking, wailing.
Johnny felt a knot in his throat. “Moom,” he called. Then, louder: “Mooom! MOOOM!”
Mom and Dad were heavy sleepers, and Johnny had to jump on their bed to wake them up on Sundays.
“MOOOM!”
No answer.
Johnny got out of bed. He wanted to stay in but he was a grownup. He rushed to the door, trying not to trip—he tripped—and reached for the light switch.
It didn’t work.
Johnny cried. He called for Mom, no answer. He called for Dad, no answer. He fell on his butt. He kept wailing.
And Emily came running to him, wailing louder.
Johnny was so startled he stopped crying. Emily did a bee-line towards him, doing the grabby arms. Johnny hugged her, because he couldn’t pick her up.
“Johnnyyyy!” Emily hugged him back, and kept on crying.
“What are you doing here?” Johnny asked. “Why are you crying? You’re so dumb.”
“Luh-luh-light!”
“Mine is not working either.” Johnny pointed at his night light. “What, are you scared?”
Emily nodded.
“Do you wanna go sleep with Mom?”
Emily shook her head.
“Here?”
Emily nodded.
So, they went to bed. Johnny didn’t like it. Dad had a little sister but they never slept in the same room because when you grow up you only sleep with your wife. But, he guessed, Emily was crying hard and she wanted to be here. Nothing he could do. He’d have to be extra grownup tomorrow to make up for this.
He wasn’t scared anymore, but he didn’t notice. He was too focused on getting Emily to fall asleep already.
Mom and Dad had actually enjoyed a full night’s sleep, so they woke up before the kids.
“Look at this,” Dad hushed. “She woke up crying and ran for Johnny.”
“Oh my God.” Mom took at least seventeen pictures before waking them up. “Oh my God.”
“Right? Taking care of his little sister. Like a champ.” He ruffled Johnny’s hair. “They grow up so fast.”
But Johnny didn’t hear any of this.
Like any respectable adult in his place, he was too busy sleeping like a baby.
“Kiss kiss kiss kiss!”
“Noooo!” Johnny squirmed, whined, pushed away. “Nooooo!”
“Kiss kiss kiss kiss!” Mom grabbed Johnny anyway. “Come here, you! Muah! Muah!”
“Nooo! Noo, stoooop!” And Johnny finally managed to push Mom away when she started laughing too hard to keep a hold on him. “I don’t wanna!”
Johnny was almost seven, which was very old, but not enough for his tastes. He wanted to stay up late and watch TV, and he wanted to play games for more than an hour a day.
But most of all, the reason why he wanted to be a grown-up was her.
“Mom!” A girly voice. “Mom! Kiss kiss!”
Emily.
Emily was four, and she was a baby.
“Kiss kiss kiss! Muah!” Then Mom put Emily on the ground and pushed her towards Johnny. “Now go kiss your brother!”
Emily let out a toddler laugh, and then went for Johnny, arms up. “Kiss! Kiss!”
“NOOO!”
Johnny hated Emily. Dad had a little sister too and she was never around, because Dad was a grownup. Johnny couldn’t wait to grow up and get rid of Emily. That would be the day.
“Kiss! Kiss!”
“GET AWAAAAAAY!”
That would be the day.
“I don’t need the night light,” Johnny said, confident, to Dad. He was tucked in already. “Grownups don’t use it.”
“Hmm.” Dad smiled. “Well, just in case. We can see it from our room, right? Mom gets scared if it’s not on.”
Johnny relaxed. “Okay,” he said. “You can turn it on then.”
Truth is, Johnny liked the night light a lot. The room at night was—honestly—pretty scary. He had tried to sleep without it once, and he had cried. But Dad didn’t need it, because he was a grownup, so Johnny tried to tell himself that he could do without it.
Still, it was good that it was on. Johnny was glad Mom liked the night light so much. It was a relief. He tucked himself in some more, hugged his pillow, closed his eyes, and—
—he woke up.
It was raining, hard, and the drops went clack-clack-clack against the window. The room was dark. The night light should have been on, but it wasn’t on.
The door was open and the corridor was pitch-black. There were weird noises in the house. Creaking, wailing.
Johnny felt a knot in his throat. “Moom,” he called. Then, louder: “Mooom! MOOOM!”
Mom and Dad were heavy sleepers, and Johnny had to jump on their bed to wake them up on Sundays.
“MOOOM!”
No answer.
Johnny got out of bed. He wanted to stay in but he was a grownup. He rushed to the door, trying not to trip—he tripped—and reached for the light switch.
It didn’t work.
Johnny cried. He called for Mom, no answer. He called for Dad, no answer. He fell on his butt. He kept wailing.
And Emily came running to him, wailing louder.
Johnny was so startled he stopped crying. Emily did a bee-line towards him, doing the grabby arms. Johnny hugged her, because he couldn’t pick her up.
“Johnnyyyy!” Emily hugged him back, and kept on crying.
“What are you doing here?” Johnny asked. “Why are you crying? You’re so dumb.”
“Luh-luh-light!”
“Mine is not working either.” Johnny pointed at his night light. “What, are you scared?”
Emily nodded.
“Do you wanna go sleep with Mom?”
Emily shook her head.
“Here?”
Emily nodded.
So, they went to bed. Johnny didn’t like it. Dad had a little sister but they never slept in the same room because when you grow up you only sleep with your wife. But, he guessed, Emily was crying hard and she wanted to be here. Nothing he could do. He’d have to be extra grownup tomorrow to make up for this.
He wasn’t scared anymore, but he didn’t notice. He was too focused on getting Emily to fall asleep already.
Mom and Dad had actually enjoyed a full night’s sleep, so they woke up before the kids.
“Look at this,” Dad hushed. “She woke up crying and ran for Johnny.”
“Oh my God.” Mom took at least seventeen pictures before waking them up. “Oh my God.”
“Right? Taking care of his little sister. Like a champ.” He ruffled Johnny’s hair. “They grow up so fast.”
But Johnny didn’t hear any of this.
Like any respectable adult in his place, he was too busy sleeping like a baby.
Top of my list:
So far. The only suggestion I might offer would be the judicious use of "Mommy" instead of "Mom" here and there--maybe once at the beginning where Johnny can pledge never to use it again and once at the end when things are getting a little hairy. Wonderful non-lupine take on the prompt!
Mike
So far. The only suggestion I might offer would be the judicious use of "Mommy" instead of "Mom" here and there--maybe once at the beginning where Johnny can pledge never to use it again and once at the end when things are getting a little hairy. Wonderful non-lupine take on the prompt!
Mike
Alternate Title: Oh My God These Child Characters Are Actually Well-Written
What a cute story that also manages to be both non-wolf and self-contained. I'm known for being a negative nancy because I'm harsh whenever I don't like an entry, but give me just a goddamn second to gush about this one.
First of all, the characters. More specifically how Johnny is written and how his thoughts kind of intermingle with the prose. Johnny is a little kid, and little kids are kind of annoying, yeah? Yet I didn't find him annoying or even stilted; he seems to me like a kid with a little sister who wants to get away from her, because that's how siblings are when they're young.
Maybe it's because I'm the older sibling in my own family and I too have a little sister (although she is far from little at this point), but I can relate to just about everything here. That's a very hard thing to do in 750 words, and even harder to do when you're writing about a kid when the readers are at least in their late teens and can barely remember their childhoods anymore.
I like how the prose is childish, in that it partly emulates Johnny's thoughts and so feels like it could've been written by a child. A very bright child, though; one who has a better understanding of how families work than a lot of adult writers.
Another thing to note is that this entry could've easily spiraled into a horror story, something along supernatural lines, like Johnny having to save his sister from a ghost in the house, or if the bogeyman turned out to be real. It would've been so easy to do in fact that I probably would've done it myself if given both this prompt and this premise. Yet it stands its ground and remains a very down-to-earth story about a kid who learns to appreciate his own childhood.
What a grownup thing to do.
Also there's this line that I loved the first time around and still do:
Holy fuck, are you meaning to tell me Johnny's a child? You meaning to tell me he wants to grow up faster so that he can stay up later and watch all the TV he wants (including some R-rated stuff no doubt) and play video games for hours on end?
I feel like I know this kid, but then I think we all do. That's not even a bad thing, really, despite it being somewhat archetypal, because I feel like this kid could exist in the real world and not just a trashy PSA or Disney original movie.
I'm aware that I might be taking low-key jabs at Clumsy, but I just feel like one has a so much better grasp on how kids should be written. It's hard to not draw comparisons.
Easily in my top three, author. Good job.
What a cute story that also manages to be both non-wolf and self-contained. I'm known for being a negative nancy because I'm harsh whenever I don't like an entry, but give me just a goddamn second to gush about this one.
First of all, the characters. More specifically how Johnny is written and how his thoughts kind of intermingle with the prose. Johnny is a little kid, and little kids are kind of annoying, yeah? Yet I didn't find him annoying or even stilted; he seems to me like a kid with a little sister who wants to get away from her, because that's how siblings are when they're young.
Maybe it's because I'm the older sibling in my own family and I too have a little sister (although she is far from little at this point), but I can relate to just about everything here. That's a very hard thing to do in 750 words, and even harder to do when you're writing about a kid when the readers are at least in their late teens and can barely remember their childhoods anymore.
I like how the prose is childish, in that it partly emulates Johnny's thoughts and so feels like it could've been written by a child. A very bright child, though; one who has a better understanding of how families work than a lot of adult writers.
Another thing to note is that this entry could've easily spiraled into a horror story, something along supernatural lines, like Johnny having to save his sister from a ghost in the house, or if the bogeyman turned out to be real. It would've been so easy to do in fact that I probably would've done it myself if given both this prompt and this premise. Yet it stands its ground and remains a very down-to-earth story about a kid who learns to appreciate his own childhood.
What a grownup thing to do.
Also there's this line that I loved the first time around and still do:
Johnny was almost seven, which was very old, but not enough for his tastes. He wanted to stay up late and watch TV, and he wanted to play games for more than an hour a day.
Holy fuck, are you meaning to tell me Johnny's a child? You meaning to tell me he wants to grow up faster so that he can stay up later and watch all the TV he wants (including some R-rated stuff no doubt) and play video games for hours on end?
I feel like I know this kid, but then I think we all do. That's not even a bad thing, really, despite it being somewhat archetypal, because I feel like this kid could exist in the real world and not just a trashy PSA or Disney original movie.
I'm aware that I might be taking low-key jabs at Clumsy, but I just feel like one has a so much better grasp on how kids should be written. It's hard to not draw comparisons.
Easily in my top three, author. Good job.
This is an incredibly simple piece, but one that accomplishes what it's set out to do. Unfortunately, the story being told here isn't a unique one, and there isn't much of substance here to set it apart from any other "little kid learns to be a good older sibling" story. I will give you credit, however, for the first scene, which was clever and funny.
As for your title... I'm not seeing how it's related to the piece aside from that line at the end. Am I missing a deeper connection?
As for your title... I'm not seeing how it's related to the piece aside from that line at the end. Am I missing a deeper connection?
This is super cute. I think it cannot be fully appreciated by people who don’t have children themselves.
But I agree with Dubs, too: it’s not the first time I read this, the plot is pretty simple and straightforward, and, like Clumsy, I suspect the choice you made was not fully innocent. Write about children is like writing about foals in pony rounds, it’s a good way to earn general appreciation.
Also, I’m sorry to say this, but no parent would sleep through such circumstances. Parents wake up every time they’re something odd going round. It’s genetic. So I’m definitely sure whoever wrote this has no kids.
But I agree with Dubs, too: it’s not the first time I read this, the plot is pretty simple and straightforward, and, like Clumsy, I suspect the choice you made was not fully innocent. Write about children is like writing about foals in pony rounds, it’s a good way to earn general appreciation.
Also, I’m sorry to say this, but no parent would sleep through such circumstances. Parents wake up every time they’re something odd going round. It’s genetic. So I’m definitely sure whoever wrote this has no kids.
>>Cassius
YEAH.
YOU TELL 'EM.
>>Monokeras
Funnily enough, this didn't even cross my mind when writing. I was kinda lost and had no idea what to do with the prompt, so I just thought about something unwolfish that could howl in the night -- a kid -- and then I thought of some kind of story with a moral I liked that I could tell.
I kept going back to how as a kid I was scared of the dark, but when I was taking care of my little brother, who was ALSO scared of the dark, I would suddenly stop caring. So I just went, eh, fuck it, that's an idea. Not the most original, but I certainly was not expecting people to think that its main purpose was it being cute. I like writing children, so I just wrote that -- the cute factor was kind of an accident.
>>Dubs_Rewatcher
Yeah I pretty much agree with this. I posted this because why the fuck not, but I'm not super happy with this entry, I think it's really bland. I took it as an exercise -- tell an entire story in 750 words and make it so it doesn't feel like you're rushing -- and a way to practice a kind of voicing I enjoy. The plot and the idea behind the story are IMO nothing to write home about.
Thanks to those who liked it, tho. Y'all legit.
Nah you're not missing anything. I finished it, had no idea what to call it, and I just went for the first sentence I could find that sounded good. The title means nothing per se.
>>Baal Bunny
Shit that is actually pretty cute a concept, especially if it's mentioned at the start -- 'he didn't say Mommy, he said Mom, beause that sounded more grownup/that's what Dad called her' -- but then he slips back to 'Mommy' and the narration doesn't call attention to it.
Now I'm iffed I didn't think of that myself. Dang.
YEAH.
YOU TELL 'EM.
>>Monokeras
I suspect the choice you made was not fully innocent. Write about children is like writing about foals in pony rounds, it’s a good way to earn general appreciation.
Funnily enough, this didn't even cross my mind when writing. I was kinda lost and had no idea what to do with the prompt, so I just thought about something unwolfish that could howl in the night -- a kid -- and then I thought of some kind of story with a moral I liked that I could tell.
I kept going back to how as a kid I was scared of the dark, but when I was taking care of my little brother, who was ALSO scared of the dark, I would suddenly stop caring. So I just went, eh, fuck it, that's an idea. Not the most original, but I certainly was not expecting people to think that its main purpose was it being cute. I like writing children, so I just wrote that -- the cute factor was kind of an accident.
>>Dubs_Rewatcher
Yeah I pretty much agree with this. I posted this because why the fuck not, but I'm not super happy with this entry, I think it's really bland. I took it as an exercise -- tell an entire story in 750 words and make it so it doesn't feel like you're rushing -- and a way to practice a kind of voicing I enjoy. The plot and the idea behind the story are IMO nothing to write home about.
Thanks to those who liked it, tho. Y'all legit.
As for your title... I'm not seeing how it's related to the piece aside from that line at the end. Am I missing a deeper connection?
Nah you're not missing anything. I finished it, had no idea what to call it, and I just went for the first sentence I could find that sounded good. The title means nothing per se.
>>Baal Bunny
Shit that is actually pretty cute a concept, especially if it's mentioned at the start -- 'he didn't say Mommy, he said Mom, beause that sounded more grownup/that's what Dad called her' -- but then he slips back to 'Mommy' and the narration doesn't call attention to it.
Now I'm iffed I didn't think of that myself. Dang.