Day 11's prompt is, "You’re walking home from work one night and taking shortcuts through a labyrinth of dark
city alleyways to meet someone on time. Suddenly, a stranger parts the shadows in front of
you, comes close and asks you to hold out your palm. You oblige."

This story is going to be a lot like yesterday's. 

I held out my hand.

The stranger didn’t read my palm. He, she, or they didn’t tell my fortune, tell me that I was going to die, or anything like that. The person simply pressed a folded-up piece of paper into my hand, then ran off.

“What’s this?” I asked myself. I opened it up.

Dear Ada,

The world will end tomorrow. You are my last hope. Travel to the Endelin Tower as soon as you can.

Also, don’t worry about meeting Marissa. I told her to make plans to meet with you so that you’d take a shortcut and I could give you this note.

How did this person know Marissa? How did this person know me? I turned the paper over.

I’m a spirit. I can’t fix the clock myself, but there are a few, randomly selected humans who can. You are one of them. You live close to the tower, so I tried you. I’ve tried everything else.

I won’t bother threatening you, because you will die, along with the rest of humanity, if you don’t.

~~~

Three hours later, I was at the tower. Night had fallen, so I was using my phone as a flashlight. I climbed the stairs to the top. Endelin Tower had been abandoned a long time ago, so there was no security, and no one came up anymore. Once I reached the top, I noticed something on the ground.

It was a clock.

I picked it up. In small, golden letters, it spelled out the words, Time Until Doomsday. Instead of a normal analog clock, it was in days, and there was one day left on it.

“I guess I have to destroy the clock to stop doomsday,” I said out loud. Walking over to the, I dropped it. “That should do it?”

Was it really that simple?

I walked back down, and my mouth dropped open. There it was, sitting in the dirt, still intact. I turned it over. Not even a scratch.

“How?”

A little girl walked out from behind a cluster of bushes. “You need the key to open it,” she said.

“Who are you? How old are you? Why are you outside alone at night?”

She dodged the question. “Here’s the key. I can’t use it, only you can.” She ran off.

I stared after her. Was she a ghost, just like the stranger who gave me the note?

Looking at the key in my hand, I sighed, then picked the clock up again. I dug the key into it, shivering a bit.

It opened.

A huge mess of wires and gears were inside of it. Having zero mechanical experience, I decided to just mess with it until it came apart.

It did, with one tug.

The broken pieces started to glow. Something appeared behind me.

“You may have saved the world, and my magic will be gone in a moment, but I will use my last strength to get my revenge on you.”

I didn’t get a chance to turn around before everything went black.

Day 12's prompt is, "After years of unhappiness, you’ve finally had enough and have decided to quit—but
we’re not talking about your job. Write a letter of resignation to someone other than your
employer—your school, your family, your favorite sports team, etc."

Dear school,

I am sorry to say that I must quit. Although you have good intentions, your way of doing things does not fit what I think to be right. For example, you think stressing kids out to the point of hysteria is a good idea, and that it will make them smarter. I do not. Studies have shown that stress kills brain cells.

Moreover, your schedule is not ideal. Strict blocks, lasting from eight to three, is the traditional way of doing things, but does not fit my sleep schedule. Speaking of traditional ways, it has been proven time and time again that a traditional classroom is neither the most efficient nor the most effective way of learning. I think homeschooling myself would be a much better option.

Thank you for taking me as a student and attempting to teach me. I wish you the best of luck.

Sincerely,

Mei 

Day 13's prompt is,"A tire blows out as you’re in the car with someone on the verge of his/her own breakdown.
Stuck in a small town, you’re about to do something you haven’t done in years."

This is going to be really short and bad because I was really busy day. It's better than nothing, at least.

When the tire blew out, we were in the town we had lived in when we were young. Tasha, my sister, was driving, and she panicked.

“Anna!” she screamed. I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt, tense. 

You see, Tasha was slightly crazy. She had always been, but it only came out in emotional or high-stress situations. She'd start screaming, and I’d have to calm her down. That usually wasn't a problem, because I could always take her to a bathroom or something where no one could see us. But here? We had lived here, and people recognized us.

“Let's get out of the car, and you can take a deep breath,” I said gently. 

What should I do now?

I got her out. We were right near our old house, that abandoned old thing. Would I have to? Yes, I did.

Taking a deep breath, I summoned Mother's ghost.

Day 14's prompt is, "Write a story featuring a Ouija board, a search engine, and a self-help book."

“I miss you, Mom. I miss you, Dad.”

Rachel was an orphan. Her parents had died two years ago in a car crash, and she had never really gotten over it. She lived in a foster care center, which really was just a fancy name for an orphanage.

The center didn’t do a good job watching the kids, so Rachel snuck out frequently to roam the city, as well as climb onto roofs to try to talk to her parents. You see, she wasn’t normal. She could no longer hold a basic conversation with another kid. She’d cry herself to sleep every night.

Rachel was crazy.

She was in a thrift shop, searching through old things. Underneath a pile of scarves from the 90s when she saw an ouija board.

“What’s this?” she asked herself.

She bought it.

Back at the center, Rachel went to the dusty old computer and used Internet Explorer (yes, that was the only search engine available.) She did some research on how to use ouija boards, and got really excited, because, crazy as she was, she wanted to talk to her parents.

The only thing?

When she tried to conduct a seance, the board burst into flames.

And so did the items around her.

The social workers, mind you, were extremely mad. They thought she had started the fire on purpose, and punished her for endangering the other children. Rachel didn’t care about any of this; She was just disappointed that she couldn’t tell her mother.

But as the days passed by, the regret in her kept growing. She couldn’t talk to her parents! She missed her father and her mother so much, it was too hard to bear. Finally, she decided to do something about it.

She would join them.

Her plan was simple. She’d sneak out, like she usually did. She’d find a roof and jump off.

And she’d be with her parents.

The day the plan was supposed to happen, however, she stumbled upon a self-help book lying on the ground. Figuring that dying could wait, she decided to read it.

Impulsive Rachel, the book was enough to change her mind, that it was worth living. She turned to go home, but she started coughing. “The board is mad at me,” she gasped. “The spirits are mad at me.”

She fell over.

And she never made it.

It's been a while since you did this, but it is really good!