Time for another writing contest presented by The Collective Anomaly, this time the theme is "sacrifice". Stories can be completely made up or a fan fiction based on Destiny (but original content will totally land you bonus points). [b]Do you have to be a member to participate?[/b] [spoiler]No, anyone from the site can submit an entry (but it'd be cool of you to join!).[/spoiler] [b]When does the contest end?[/b] [spoiler]The contest ends on Bungie day, July 7th, at 9pm PST. [/spoiler] [b]What's the prize?[/b] [spoiler]First place will receive one of the new subclass t-shirts found in [url=http://bungiestore.com/]the Bungie store[/url]![/spoiler] [b]Who's the judge?[/b] [spoiler]I will be selecting the finalist as well as the winner. There will be no poll as to avoid alts being able to vote in the polls. I want this to be as fair as possible! Winners will be selected based off of the quality of the story as well as their grammar.[/spoiler] Contest begins today and I wish you all the best of luck. Have fun with it! EDIT: Since I wasn't clear here is the guidelines on length: Not too long (I don't want an entire novel) but not too short. CONTEST IS CLOSED. Winner will be announced Friday. WINNER: Midas Cyeneus with his entry: [quote]"Damn you! How can I help when you won't let me?" I abruptly shouted, losing sense of my final nerve in one motion of anger. The heat around us propelled my emotions into a realm not fully explored, yet the slew of feelings felt somewhat familiar to me. This had not been the first time I had expressed this thoughts and judging by the position she had on me, this conversation would die faster than I could save it. She was a brick wall, a lifeless obstacle that I could never conquer without the use of extreme force, but to resort to such methods would only prove her point. This simple fact consumed my rational and plagued the course of our discussion. "Why don't you just go spend the night at your second home? I'm sure the bartender won't mind looking after your drunken self and listen to you rant about your failing marriage." My wife retorted arrogantly, sparing no subtleties about where I chose to let loose my frustrations. A good couple of drinks did sound appealing and the bar would still be open for a few more hours. Tempting as it was to forfeit and fight another day, I didn't want to leave at a quarter to midnight to wallow away on another man’s countertop. "Our marriage," I stated shamefully, reminding her that she too was equally as guilty, if not more than me. Playing innocent only hurt her in this case. "Don't think that you have more leeway here. I'm staying because I want this to work, for us to work past this hurdle and go back to being a family. I'm fighting so hard for us but you won't commit the same amount of effort." My wife beamed me with those sapphire eyes that I fell for so long ago, except that the love I once saw behind them were clouded by animosity and bewilderment. She had found new ammunition for her defense, though another mixed sense made her tense up. Her arms folding more tightly than before and her lean against the refrigerator stiffened. "She's caught in the middle. Did you ever think about how she feels? To see us yelling at each other, for me to tell her that daddy's not coming home each night?" "How can I be there when you push me away at every chance!? She's my daughter too and I don't want her anywhere near this!" I had reached new ground in the wrong direction. But why stop now? I found my reason to do so. At the dead of night, when the moon illuminated the lands below and the winds were silent out of respect for those sleeping, I thought I heard the faintest shuffling coming from the dimly lit hall. From where the two of us were in the kitchen, the hall connected with the front entryway of our house and also sat adjacent to the stairs. As we stared into the brink emptiness, an audible noise attuned to that of a muffled cry resonated. A child's cry, one that I had become very accustomed to hearing. "Emma, is that you sweetheart?" My wife sympathetically called out to the dark. We waited until a small figure stirred from her hidden spot among the shadows. She was fully visible once the kitchen lights caught sight of her pink pajamas. Clutching her stuffed animal closely and with eyes puffy from the many tears she had shed, she looked to us glossy eyed. "Did we...wake you up again?" She nodded and at that, I wasted no time motioning for her to come to me. She complied and once she stood within arm's reach, I carefully scooped her up and rested her on my lap. She held me in her arms but she couldn't bring herself to look up at me. I was at a loss for words to explain again why it was that her father and mother were arguing late into the night. She sensed the discomfort I possessed and spoke for me. "Why can't you and Mommy just be happy? Like before?" "I'm sorry Emm. Mommy says and does things that makes Daddy mad and I do things that makes Mommy mad, but no matter how angry we may get, that doesn't mean that we don't love each other any less," I managed to explain, finding enough courage to face my smaller reflection. I think she had a bare concept on my words but I wanted her to understand this new feeling brewing in the pits of my heart. "And what matters most, more than anything in the world, is you. Your happiness is what's important to us." "Mommy and I have put aside our happiness to make sure that you are loved. We don't want you to feel like you're ever alone or that we don't want to spend time with you. You always come first and we'll do whatever we can to keep it that way, I promise." Another fresh batch of warm tears came from the little girl at my lap. She let on to me her concerns, though tucked away in her display of affection, I could feel her radiance shining on me. I proceed to softly stroke her autumn hair and when looking to my wife, I could see she was losing her grip on her stern outlook. My hand went out to her and she too joined the small cluster of warmth, quietly sobbing in my weak embrace. I think she could begin to see why I was fighting so hard to keep this relationship alive, to restore the good graces that had kept the three of us happy. Happy. The word brought about a strange saturation of clarity when I repeated it in my mind. That was all my daughter asked for from her parents. She wanted us to find love in ourselves and each other. Emma understood this and through her childish perception, she relied to us a valuable lesson. Even when giving my daughter all the strength I have, she would still gift it right back to me. Her love for us had built the foundation that elevated my relationship with my wife; the woman who had gave her life to some average man like me. Despite our crash, it was Emma who held us together. It was then I realized; my life meant very little if the two most important girls in my life were crying in my arms. What kind of man am I if I can’t even please the two people I care for when it matters most? I would give the heavens and the earth to see them smile again. That was her wish; she wanted her parents to stop hurting each other for their sake. She wanted us to be a happy family again. I would fight to see that come true and I could tell my wife felt the same way. This will become a reality, I know it. If it means seeing them smile once again.[/quote] If you were not the winner please do not be discouraged, I did not read any bad stories while reading through these. Every one who entered had a great entry, but this user's story really captivated me. I encourage you all try again next time...and yes, there will be more. Thanks again.