I'm going to take a chance and post something that I wrote. It's the beginning to a story I just started. A little history first. Way back in 1999, I started a story that I'm still slaving over. It's the thing that I can't let go of. But I don't think it's publish worthy anymore. So my brilliant mind decided to do a rewrite, of sorts. The basic plot is the same. The setting is reversed. The characters are younger, and will probably all have different names. But here's the beginning. I don't have any followers yet, so there's a pretty big chance no one will even read this. In which case I'll be no worse off than I am now.
PS This was all done on an iPhone, so please excuse any typos or other weirdness.
One of the hardest things I ever had to do was leave Texas. It wasn't like I had much choice. Three months shy of eighteen and sans a high school diploma left me with few options. So I packed up what was left of my life and drove to Illinois to live with my aunt and uncle, and a cousin who I'd seen only twice in my life. The first time had been when we were about eight. The last was after my parents' funeral.
Everybody expects to outlive their parents. But you also expect them to watch you graduate high school and college, get married and have kids before it happens. I hadn't done any of thosethongs yet. And my parents were already gone. It really was t fair. Maybe I was more anxious to leave home than I thought. I could escape all the symp
athetic stares and 'oh poor you' speeches. I knew they were gone. I didn't need the constant reminders.
Not to mention that any support system I thought I had was gone. My friends had suddenly decided they didn't know how to act around me anymore, so they all stopped coming around.
Maybe leaving wasn't so hard after all.