Abigail Brown: Chapter 15

            After all that Chloe had filled Abigail in on, Abbey felt stupid for even caring about what she was about to tell Chloe. I’m the worst friend ever, and the worst roommate ever too. She’d hurt so many people, but still had the sneaking suspicion that she’d hurt herself more than anyone else.

            “Ugh,” Abbey groaned, “I’m sorry for being so horrible. That’s really not me, I’m sorry you saw me like that.” She looked at Chloe who seemed like she was sorry she’d seen it too. Unfortunately, Abigail had more to say. It didn’t really fit in anywhere; it didn’t even really need to be said. But Abigail wanted to tell someone, and there was no one else she would ever tell, so she just sucked it up and said it. “You know that idiot I kissed in the kitchen?”

            Chloe nodded before Abbey continued, “Well that was… my first kiss.” As she said it Abbey wondered if Chloe would be mad at her for caring about something so trivial and selfish when she should care about how she hurt Destiny. Not that Abbey didn’t feel bad about Destiny, she did. She felt really bad. But she’d been dreaming about her first kiss for a long time, and this was about as far from her dream as she could ever have imagined.

            “Oh… gosh,” Chloe said softly as she looked down. Maybe she understood after all. “That really sucks.”

            At this, tears spilled over Abbey’s cheeks. Not because of everything she’d ruined, but because she just finally realized something great: that Chloe was the best friend she’d ever had. She really did understand her, and she didn’t even seem mad at her. Abigail had never had a friend she could be so honest with; she’d never had a friend who really cared.

            “I know we can’t just pretend last night didn’t happen,” Abigail said slowly, “but I’m never going to do that again. I promise.” After a few seconds she added quietly, “Thanks for everything last night… I’m really sorry.”

            They walked for a while, Chloe sipping her tea before saying, “it’s OK. I’m your friend; you aren’t going to get rid of me that easily.” They both smiled.

Journals

           

Nine years worth of journals

A few days ago I cleaned out my desk, and I decided to move my journals. So of course I couldn’t help cracking open a few. It was pretty funny to read some of the stuff I thought was worthy of writing when I was just in elementary school.

            I started my first journal in July of 2001 and by March of 2002 (when I was in 5th grade) I was writing a page a day. I’ve been writing daily ever since then. It’s pretty crazy to think how many pages that amounts to, and I’ll probably never go back and read most of them. But it doesn’t really matter if they are filled with gibberish or never read again, because by writing every night I have improved more than I could have with school alone and I have discovered things about myself I would otherwise not know.

My first journal, started at the age of 10.

            I’m still writing every night. And I will probably continue to journal forever because there will always be something I can improve on and there will always be more of myself to discover.

Good Grief

            It’s a Sunday night. I just dropped my parents off at an Elton John Concert. By the time I get home the whole house smells like pot and my little brother and his friend are both high. To top it all off the power just went out, and apparently the internet is out too (I’ll post when it starts working again). I have nothing to do but type until my laptop dies and then read until it gets too dark. Then I may be forced to actually hang out with my stupid brother and his even stupid-er friend. And I just realized that I can’t even cook the pizza my mom bought for dinner because the power is out. Plus it’s raining and windy, so I doubt the power will be restored soon. Ugh, and a mosquito just bit me!

            Good grief. This is going to be a long night.

NOTE: The power came on about an hour after I wrote this. Hallelujah!

An Itch

I have an itch, and not the kind you get from a rash or mosquito bite. And definitely not the kind on a certain commercial which I will not name, for those of you with a dirty mind. I have an itch to do something. Something big.

            My life has been boring and stagnant lately. Although, I tend to feel like this about every three months. I usually just die my hair with temporary hair dye. Cause I’m a chicken. I rarely do anything daring. And on that rare occasion that I do actually do something daring, it is only actually daring to me and no one else would think twice about doing. Like joining the pep band at the start of my freshman year in college. To me, that was HUGE. I felt like I’d just gone sky diving. But to anyone else they would have just been like “I really want to join the pep band, so I’m going to join it. No big deal.” But, like I said, I’m a chicken. So little things seem like great feats to me.

            Lately I haven’t even done anything semi-kind-of daring. Not even in my book. And today I found myself sitting at home alone wanting to do something, but not knowing what I want to do. Although I do know that what I want to do is not something I can find at my house. I’ve been sitting here all summer kind of trying to get in shape, and kind of trying to write a book, and kind of trying to clean my room. But in actuality I’m not really accomplishing anything.

            Earlier I was watching an episode of Glee (cause I’m a dork and it’s kind of awesome) and one of the characters said this: “the only life worth living is one that you’re really passionate about”. Wow, I know I’m cheesy, but that’s a great quote! Actually I might write it down and tape it to the wall above my bed. It kind of struck a chord with me though, because I totally think this is a great mantra to live by, but I’m not living this way at all. I’m not passionate about anything right now. Well, I’m passionate about school, and writing, and my future. But those aren’t really all that tangible right now, except maybe writing, but I can’t sit around all day everyday writing. I really want to be passionate about something. All I can think about though is traveling and seeing the world and volunteering in faraway lands. But that all takes money, and I’m flat broke.

            So I guess this blog isn’t really going anywhere, I didn’t really come to any conclusions. I know what I’ve known for a long time: I’m bored with my life and I don’t know how to change it. Sure, once I go back to school I won’t be as bored, and I’ll be happy simply to be out of this little town again. But that’s just a temporary solution. When classes slow down or I don’t have homework or plans with pep band or friends I’m going to get bored again. And next summer hopefully I’ll get an awesome job, but chances are pretty high that I will still be bored. I guess I’ll just see what happens and look for an opportunity to leap into something that I can really be passionate and daring about.

Trying to Write

            I’m having a really off day, and I’m super bored. Plus today is one of those rare days when no one is home and the house is actually quiet. So I thought this would be a perfect time to write. I’m currently working on two stories, Abigail Brown and one about a girl in high school who’s dating an alien (kind of). I really wanted to spend some time adding to these.

            But it’s just not working out today. Nothing I write seems to go with the overall story and for some reason everything I write is coming out really cheesy. Maybe that’s because I’m listening to cheesy country music while I’m writing.

            I often read blogs by my favorite authors and I’ve noticed some of them mention having characters that are not cooperating. Before I thought this was just silly, if you are writing a character you can make them do whatever you want. But now I understand. I think my characters are currently in a state of rebellion. No, they are not vandalizing houses or talking back to their parents, but they are being ridiculously corny! I’m trying to write an ending for Abigail Brown because it has come to the end I always had planned and I think the story is over, but I can’t think of an ending that isn’t unrealistically sweet.

            The other story I’m working on is just not going anywhere. I know exactly what I want to happen, but I don’t want it to happen yet. And I’m trying to develop a new friendship between my main character and a group of misfits, but it seems like it just doesn’t fit with anything else I’ve written. Maybe I’m trying to make it about too much at once, but I don’t want to leave anything out.

            I really want to be a novelist one day. I want to write till I die. And I think I’ve decided that what I want to write is young adult fiction. And, yes, I know I’m still a young adult. But I think I just want it to happen faster than it’s going to happen. I know someone who wrote a 300 page book and self-published it before she turned 18. But maybe I won’t finish a book till I’m 25… or maybe even 30. But I will finish a book someday, maybe not now, but someday.

            Anyway, sorry for ranting. I just really felt like writing about this, it went a lot better than anything else I was trying to write.

Abigail Brown: Chapter 14

            Abigail felt her stomach sinking as she walked towards the cafeteria to meet up with Chloe. She didn’t want to know what else happened the night before. What could be worse than making out with a stranger and then falling on my face in front of him and his jerky friends? Oh yeah, and basically showing them all my underwear in the process. But even as she thought this she knew that there was something else she had done that she felt even worse about, she just couldn’t remember what it was.

            Chloe wasn’t exactly excited to tell her best friend about what had happened, but it wasn’t something she could just pretend didn’t happen. Both girls inhaled deeply as they came into each other’s view. More than anything Abigail was embarrassed that Chloe had seen her like that. She never drank, ever. She just had to hope that Chloe had gotten to know her well enough in two months to know that.

            “Hey,” Abigail said as she approached Chloe who was already sitting at an outside table with a large cup of green tea.

            “Hi,” Chloe’s tone made Abigail’s stomach churn even more. “Let’s walk,” she said as she stood up with tea in hand.

            I’m never drinking again, Abigail thought as she walked alongside Chloe. Neither talked until they were past the table where the Christian club was handing out free mini-bibles.

            “So, the last thing you remember is coming back inside from the porch and sitting on the couch?” Chloe seemed to be stalling.

            “Yah, basically,” Abigail wanted to stall too.

            “Ok, I’m just gonna say it… you kissed Luke,” she looked at Abigail hesitantly, “your roommate’s boyfriend.” She added this last part, as if Abigail didn’t know that.

            Abbey groaned as she started to remember. That must be why Destiny was acting weird this morning.

            “And then you fell asleep.” The way Chloe said this made Abbey think that maybe there was even more to this story.

            “That was it, right?”

            “Well, that was the worst of it, but… there is a bit more.”

            “I didn’t throw up on anyone, did I?” Abbey was half-joking, but thought it was possible.

            “Not exactly,” Chloe took a long sip of her tea before continuing, ‘Ok, so I managed to wake you up. And you could barely walk, but we got outside. And those jerks were still on the porch. They said some stuff as we walked past them, but I don’t think you want to know what they said.” She glanced at Abbey and she nodded, the fewer the details the better. “So we got past them, but then you started throwing up in the front yard, right in front of them.”

            Abigail groaned again, but apparently that wasn’t the end of it because Chloe kept talking. “So they said some more… stuff. And then they threw some beer cans at you. They were empty, mostly. OK, so then we kept walking, but you were stumbling all over. Then…”

            Abigail was getting a bit sick of all the stalling, she just want to know how the story ended, so she could try to fix it, somehow. “Just spill it, what did I do next?” She held her breath, but was surprised by Chloe’s response.

            “Oh, don’t worry, that was basically the end. But the thing is… Destiny must have left the party just after us. So she caught up with us and saw how much trouble I was having trying to get you back to the dorms. I mean, you were practically asleep by this point. So, she basically helped me drag you back here. Oh, and you threw up again in front of your dorm.” She took another sip of her tea before adding, “That’s all.”

            Abigail didn’t even know what to say. She couldn’t even figure out what the worst part was. Was it betraying her roommate, or the fact that her roommate had to help carry home the girl who’d betrayed her? Or was it something else entirely? There was just too much to choose from. And now she had to admit something to Chloe, for no other reason than she just had to tell someone.

Worried

                I’m really worried right now and I need to get it out on paper to help myself relax a little. So I thought I’d blog about it.

                My brother is going to the emergency room right now. He thinks he is having a heart attack or some other problem with his heart. He’s only 30, but he’s been having heart troubles for a few years. He was on medicine for high blood pressure for a few years and just stopped taking it about a year ago. I didn’t know he was still having problems until he came over today and told me he thought he was having a heart attack.

                My mom just took him to the ER so now I’m just sitting at home worrying about him. I Googled the signs of a heart attack in a young man and that definitely didn’t make me feel any better. He has three of the main symptoms: chest and arm pains, nausea, and a high heart rate. He also told me he hasn’t been able to sleep without getting drunk for the last three weeks. And I know he’s been drinking heavily since the fourth of July because his friends are all in town.

                I know it seems like I air all of my family’s dirty laundry on my blog, but it’s really just to get it out of my head and onto paper (or computer). Besides, I don’t allow anyone I know to read my blog.

                I’m just really worried about my brother. I think he’s going to be OK, and hopefully the doctor will figure out what’s wrong with him so that it can be taken care of ASAP. Until I have more news I’m just going to keep hoping and praying for him.

Just Call Me THE DESIGNATED DRIVER

                My official title for the summer should be designated driver. I’m too young to drink legally, and I have no interest in drinking anyway, so that means I’m always sober. I often spend many Friday nights driving my drunken brothers or cousins around.

                One of my four brothers was recently in town for his ten-year class reunion. He doesn’t come to town very often because every time he does he gets ridiculously drunk and makes a fool of himself. He’s done it once again and probably won’t return until my cousin’s wedding in September. He’s what you would call a mean drunk.

                I was also the official DD on the fourth of July. As soon as the fireworks ended I hopped in my mom’s car (cause it has lots of seats) and weaved through traffic to pick up my brother (a different brother than the above mentioned), a few cousins, and their posy of friends. Never have so many people squished into my mom’s minivan. Although some of them are known to be very mean drunks, they were mellowed out by a day full of sun and friends. So the two hours spent stuck in traffic, picking people up, and dropping people off wasn’t too bad.

                Tonight I will once again heard people into my mom’s minivan and drive them home after a night spent drinking. This is my life, and it’s not too bad.

Abigail Brown: Chapter 13

            The sun was shining onto Abigail’s face from where she lay spread out on her extra-long dorm bed. But all Abigail felt was a throbbing headache and a wave of nausea. What happened last night? Abigail rubbed the old makeup and sleep from her eyes trying to remember how she got back to her dorm.

            She remembered going to the party and being embarrassed about her horrible dancing skills. Then she remembered the linoleum tiled kitchen with the keg surrounded by several guys. She remembered that one guy, Brad, who poured her shots and stared into her eyes. Then she remembered the stuff she wanted to forget: the kissing, the crying on the porch, the tripping in front of Brad and his jerk friends and falling so that her underwear was showing. She remembered them laughing and calling her a bitch, she remembered stumbling back into the house and crying some more, then she remembered feeling really bad about something, but she wasn’t sure what.

            From where she lay on her bed, Abigail could her roommate typing furiously and flipping pages that sounded like they came from a text book. This took Abigail’s confusion to a whole new level. Oh my gosh, what time is it! She thought it must be at least one since Destiny was never up before noon, especially on a Saturday.

            Abigail grabbed her phone and was shocked to see that it was only 11:04am. She glanced at Destiny, but her ears had not deceived her. Destiny had two text books opened wide next to her laptop and a notebook balanced in front of her. She was really studying, at 11am, on a Saturday. Abigail was shocked. She looked back down at her phone to be sure she’d read the time right, and then she noticed that she had an unread text message from Chloe.

            Text me when u wake up!!!

            Abigail ignored this and went back to sleep. A few hours later she heard her phone vibrating on the nearby table. She flipped it open without looking at the number and mumbled, “Hello?”

            “Abbey, are you up yet?” Chloe’s voice was far too loud and Abigail cringed at the pain in her head. “Abbey! Hello! Are you there?”

            “Yah, Yah. I’m here”

            “Do you know what time it is?” Chloe seemed angry.

            “Um, no. Not really,” Abigail was not even sure she wanted to know, she just wanted to go back to sleep.

            “It’s four in the afternoon!” At this Abigail felt much more awake, she didn’t even think it was after one. “How much of last night do you remember?” The tone of Chloe’s voice threw Abigail off and she wondered how much of the night she’d forgotten.

            “Enough… I think”

            “Well, what’s the last thing you remember?”

            “I’m not sure; it’s still kind of hazy. I think it was coming inside after those jerks saw me fall on my face.” As she said this, Abigail remembered there hurtful words. They stung more now that she was sober.

            “Oh, I missed that part… But unfortunately that wasn’t the worst part.” Abigail groaned, she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to know what else happened. “Meet me in a half hour by the cafeteria and I’ll fill you in.”