Read my story? PLEASE! Im not sure what direction the storys heading towards in, but you guys can judge that!?
Question by Gage: Read my story? PLEASE! Im not sure what direction the storys heading towards in, but you guys can judge that!?
NOTES- It’s JUST a draft! I know it needs alot of work. and these lines (_____) mean that it’s a neww chapter.Thanks guys:)
Eventually, we all go. Human or not, we all die somehow. Death is one crash away, one
hit away, one heartbeat away. I learned all of this the day my life turned, the day I
moved to New York City. The most well known, and most crowded city in the
continental United States of America. Before that part of my insignificant life I had been
living with Anne, my mom. In the hot, dry inhabitance of Oakland. A town in Western
Oregon. The opposite of New York. We lived in the Sunny Side apartment Complex.
Trashy, but not too bad of an area. I was around nine or ten years old. Anne had just been
fired from the Shell gas station up the street. Luckily she had a backup job. She had a
night shift out somewhere. I never what it was back then, but she said it puts food
in our bellies and we didn’t have a choice. I guess the rest of the bills were paid by Ron.
Ron was Anne’s boyfriend. He was an alcoholic, he drank all day every day. Anne
always said he had a bad past, and when he drank, he took the past out on her. I don’t
believe she ever loved, or even liked him for that matter. But we didn’t have a choice, no
car, no phone, we were just stuck. Stuck in a dilapidated one bedroom apartment in the
middle of a dumpy old town. “Someday we’re gonna get up outta here Sheman, Imma
get you a nice place one day baby. It’s all gonna be good one day.” But it wasn’t any
better, in fact, it only got worse, and worse, and worse. At this time I was in the third
grade at shady Hills Elementary, and Anne still had her same job. Ron came home every
once in a while, but usually was gone at work, or at the titty bar up the street. Anne always said it
was for the best if daddy stayed away from us. He usually brought money when he came.
Enough to keep us from
getting evicted from this dump. Either way, we were still
broke. And Anne’s medicine didn’t help make anything easier either. She calls it
medicine, but thinking back at it now, she was a meth addict. I can’t tell you how many
times De-fax came knocking on our door and taken me away. But screw it, she was a
screw up, she started to make me feel like a screw up. A year went by, Ron left, new ones
came. De-fax and the cops came every once in awhile. Anne got locked up in the slammer
for a couple months for “Driving under the influence” again, second D.U.I. this month. I
had been spending a lot of time with grandma that year too. I would probably be happily
living with her in Oregon right now if she hadn’t died. Months went by until my ninth
Christmas came. I’d never felt so excited about something so simple. We couldn’t afford
a ham like the other kids, so we just made sandwiches. The fake Christmas trees weren’t under
twenty dollars at the Dollar Tree, so we didn’t get one of those either. Anne said Santa didn’t need any more
cookies, so we didn’t make him any. I slept restlessly that night, with temptation bubbling
up in my stomach. Until I saw the crack of light threw my small, dirty window. I sprang
out of my bed, determined to sprint to the half empty living room. To see my mom
waiting there, with something held behind her back. she said “Merry Christmas
Shermy!” And gave me a small, stuffed animal. A Raccoon, with one eye, and the
other a green button. he was scraggly and didn’t have much stuffing left. “He was mine
when I was your age Shermy. Now he’s yours.” For some reason, he seemed perfect to
me. I leaped to my mom in excitement with a huge “Thanks momma!” Everything
seemed perfect that day. Nothing seemed to matter but me, Ralphy the raccoon, and my
momma. Nothing could ruin that day. Except for the police. _____They flung open our
door and said “Anne, your under arrest.” They grabbed me as I
watched them put my mom in handcuffs. So I guess she never showed up to court for that second D.U.I., plus she was spun on crank. They drug my mom out of my home as she
screamed “Shermy!” From there I was put in a foster care outside of town. I was in that
building for eight months. I cried, and cried, and cried. They tried finding relatives. But
the only one they came up with was my dead grandma. I hated it there, the food was
terrifying, It smelled like a doctor’s office, and my only friend was Ralphy. Who didn’t
even talk. Why would he? He was a dumb rag filled with cotton from some dumb old factory
in China. Where everything’s made. Well, according to Billy. Billys was a
fat, tall kid that was in this orphanage his whole life. He was eleven years old and had
enormous pink craters on his face with crooked gapped teeth. He was mean to
everyone and pretended he knew everything there was to know about anything. He was
one of the jerks there. He once
Best answer:
Answer by Nsys2p
omg that was awesome i loved it!!!! u should sooo continue id sooo read it!!!!
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