Read the responses to this week’s Write to Win prompt and choose the answer you like most using this form.
Parrot: The film or book would be called My Twin Brother and Me.
Do you believe twins have a special connection – like being able to read each other’s minds or finishing each other’s sentences without thinking? Unfortunately, that’s not the case for my brother and me!
Still, our daily lives are packed with different stories. There are joyful moments – playing games together, laughing at the dumbest things and dreaming big dreams – and there are harder ones, like arguing and fighting over nothing. Sometimes I get annoyed when he steals my stuff or plays tricks on me. Once, I wondered what my life would be like if I didn’t have my brother running around all the time. Would I be happy or disappointed?
Deep down, I know how rare and precious it is to have a twin brother – someone who’s always there to chat with, fight with, laugh with and grow up alongside. My cousin doesn’t have any siblings and he often feels alone, facing mountains of schoolwork on his own.
I feel so lucky and grateful to have him. I’ll keep cherishing every moment we share, facing every challenge together, and I truly believe many people would love to see or read our story if it ever became a book or a movie.
Seagull: A teenage boy with a bad reputation skips school, fights and pushes boundaries with others. He bullies other classmates, making fun of them and manipulating them into doing things for him or just for his own entertainment. He thrives on chaos, making people’s lives worse, thinking that it is amusing. For him, cruelty was entertainment, and the misery of others was a game.
But one day, he crossed the line and pushed things too far during a fight. What began with a simple shove turned into something dangerous, possibly life-threatening. He did it. He hurt someone really badly. At the moment, he felt a sense of fear, but he kept going, consumed by his ego.
That moment haunted him with constant guilt. The boy who made people’s lives worse began to ask himself, “Was it worth it?”
The laughter of cruelty was left behind as a shadow of him forever; it stained him. He thought about it and noticed the pain in others, the harm he had done, which was permanent and irreversible.
He tried to find redemption by performing small acts of kindness. Wanting to change, he tried. Yet the people surrounding him would not accept him.
Still, he realised that true redemption was not about others’ approval but about transforming himself.
Owl: There have been many notable events throughout my life. They may not be special or unique, but they are surely factors that have sculpted me into the person I am today.
I think it would be difficult to choose a story from my life to turn into a book or film, because everyday occurrences are just as important and unique to me as they are to others. Therefore, if I were to turn a story from my life into a book, it would be about the little moments I’ve experienced.
It would feel somewhat like a diary, but one that archives my feelings and thoughts about all those moments of life, ranging from an unexpected meeting with an old classmate to seeing a butterfly fly into the classroom.
These insignificant events in my life are what truly make it so brilliant and interesting. Even if these occurrences cannot cause detrimental shifts in my life, they are still small components that make my everyday experience fruitful and enjoyable. Sharing these in a book can let readers have a relaxing time, submerged in the little surprises I’ve been through, helping them take a short break from this stressful society. These are the things from my life that I would like to turn into a book or a film.
Kiwi: I wasn’t the main character of the story; I was always just the person standing next to them. On one side was Aidan, the high achiever. On the other was Lucas. He was the kind of kid parents warned you not to become.
Aidan was the goal I was always pursuing, but every time my grades improved, his name would appear just one spot above mine. Teachers tried to cheer me up with pleasantries like, “Despite the scores, you are still an excellent student.”
Lucas was the complete opposite. He sat at the back of the class, constantly sketching. He was anything but “on the ball”. Sometimes, he snored so loudly I could hear him from across the room. He didn’t talk much. I thought our lives would never cross paths until the day I had to fill in for the visual arts subject homework captain.
“Hey, do you have the homework? The self-portrait?” I asked. He looked up, clearly zoned out, and ducked under his desk to retrieve a drawing book with worn edges and graphite smudges on the cover.
“It’s in there somewhere, just tear the page out,” he mumbled.
I picked up the book, and it felt as heavy as steel. It wasn’t an ordinary sketchbook. Instead, the pages were filled with intricate warriors, extraordinary city views and battle scenes practically vibrating with tension. The so-called “homework” was scrawled in the corner of a page.
I realised then that we were living in two separate universes. In my world, homework was a task to be neatly completed to gain marks. In his cosmos, homework was actual work done at home, and the assignment the school required was just a tiny piece of booger that he picked off from his fantasy to appease peasants who played by the rules. I had looked down on him, but he possessed a talent that would never be found in me.
