STORY ARC #8 — Tiny Watermill
Guardian of the Tiny Watermill
The first chapter of a Choose Your Own Adventure fantasy fiction based on a prompt from Jay C Wells
This is the beginning of a choose your own adventure story. Read on and then consider continuing the story according to what you think might happen next! Do you love writing choose your own adventure stories with other authors? Find out how you can do that here!
Marigold looks out the sparkling clean window onto the huge rocks and sighs. A loud and quite obvious sigh, nothing else would suffice to express her rather raw rage.
“Where is that Buttercup child? Why can’t she be more responsible and be home on time for once?” Forceful and accusing, she stares at Peony as he sits in his stuffed easy chair. Stuffed with peanut shells, but stuffed nevertheless.
Peony glances up at his raging wife and glances right back down again. “What’s up, dear? Why are you upset, my sweet?”
Exasperated, Marigold huffs and mumbles under her breath, “Useless, worthless excuse for a Tiny. He should be banished from the realm and made to sit in the dungeons with the lizard droppings.”
“I can hear you, my beauty, even though you’re trying to mumble, I can still hear you,” whispers the supposed worthless one. Then a little louder, “Besides, Scraps will protect her, so why do you worry, my sweet one?”
“Humph,” Marigold stomps off as is fitting for her present mood, never looking back at her less-than-adequate companion as she walks out the broken-down door of the watermill.
You play as Buttercup
You can’t get out of there fast enough. And you stay away on purpose for longer than is allowed. So what? You don’t care if you get lectured about being late or this and that danger outside. You most definitely DO NOT CARE anymore.
“I’ve either got to leave this place for good, or I’m gonna kill myself. Not kidding. I’ve gone beyond the end of my rope and have enough left over to hang myself,” you speak out loud to the wind and waves and then to the gull resting on the shore.
“Hey Scraps, I’ve got this rope, lemme tie it on your leg and around my neck so the next time you fly away….”
Scraps casually glances over at you, sniffs pompously and squawks out a few foul words. Spreading his magnificent filth-encrusted wings, Scraps takes to the air rather gracefully, for once.
“Well, what do you think about that,” you mumble frustratedly, “Scraps is supposed to stick around while I’m out here, but noooo, he has to go off and do his own thing like I don’t even exist. Figures!”
With that, you decide to take matters into your own tiny hands and begin to climb over the rocks towards the water, intending to swim across to the even bigger rocks out in the bay. You make it to the waterfront, take a breath, and jump in.
You really are an excellent swimmer, growing up by the water, it is sort of a necessity. Besides, you were taught to swim by the only people you have ever seen, your parents.
You swim strong and swift to the huge rocks and climb up without hesitation. Now to decide what to explore next. You’ve been here before, of course, but no further than here. Excited, you look around and try to decide what to do. But as you look around, your hopes crash just as suddenly as they rose.
There is nothing but water all around the gigantic rocks that you stand on. You can’t swim into the big water, you’ve been nagged all your pathetic life that it’s too dangerous, undertows and unknown creatures. Hmmm, maybe this is just the sort of adventure you need.
And with that last thought, you dive into the deep water, noticing something glimmering in the depths. A dwelling?
What will you do next?
1. You dive deeper into the water to investigate (click here). 2. You hesitate and decide to get out of the water (click here). 3. You drift downstream with the current for a while (click here).
Why not write the next part of this collaboration and let us know what you think happens to Buttercup? Happy writing!
An original photo by Jay C Wells along with his idea for the photo in turn ignited my imagination to write this story about Tiny creatures.
A tiny watermill at the fringe of a lake. Is this just decoration? A tiny power plant? Or could it be some small creature’s home? And what is that seagull’s role in all of it?