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"Come on, we are going somewhere." she had said.
"Where?" I asked, getting up from my bed. I still had my pajamas on, and was almost asleep. My princess room, which was a bright shade of pink was light up suddenly when she turned on the light.
"You will see, just get on your coat!" she replied, almost yelling. I didn't understand why she was yelling. I didn't understand much at 12 years old. But I did as she said. In the grand entrance, putting on my coat, my mom came stomping in the room, her heels tap-tap-taping the marble floor. I looked up to the sparkling chandelier, which was on dim. I would sit on the stairs, and watch it sparkle, and glitter in the different shades of sun.
"Jonathan! Let’s go!" my mom said, talking to my father. Then she turned to me. "Hurry and finish putting on your coat!” my mom said, yanking me forward, and pushing my arm through the coat sleeve. “Mom, why are you so upset?” I had been out again, and got drunk. “Just shut up. JONATHAN! I’M LEAVING!” she screamed once more to my father before dragging me out the door and into the car. But, my father never came.
I looked out the window as we drove through our neighborhood, the other houses, three or four stories tall, but fell asleep. When I woke up, we were in the city; I was about an hour from home. But the farther we drove, I noticed that the scarier it got. People where living on the streets, and where just a jacket, and thin clothes, in the winter. I sent a prayer to God, thanking him I wasn’t in their position, and that he would help those people. But was I going to get the shock of my life.
My mom finally stopped the car, coming to a small apartment house, looking run-down, and almost looked like it was tilting. She opened the car, and looked back at me with harsh eyes, “Don’t go anywhere, I will be right back, got it?” Before I could answer, she got out, and slammed the door shut. I watched her walk up to the door, and knock. I looked down the street, a few people were either standing, or sleeping by a small fire, flowing in the harsh wind. They had huge coats on, but all torn up, and ripped gloves. Not many children where out, but I was sure, they were trying to keep warm in their houses. Suddenly, my mom came to my door, and interrupted my thoughts. “Come on.” She opened the door, and pulled me out of the warmth of the car. I followed—more like I was dragged—to the doorway she had knocked on before. A pudgy, old woman stood there with a glare of silence. Her dirty run-down look, frizzy gray hair, and wrinkled skin, added to her scary appearance. She smelled like beer, and so did the room around her. “Here she is.” My mom said, pushing me in between her and the old lady. The old lady looked at me, as though examining me. Her hand reached to grab my arm, but I yanked it away. She hit my hand. “You no treat me like that! Only RESPECT!” she had an Italian when she said the last part of “respect” she spit. “This is how you repay me? After I give you wealthy husband? You give me a stubborn child?” She looked at my mother, and had her hands on her hips. I looked at her as well. “Mom, what is she talking about?” But she just ignored me, as usual.


tell me what you guys think so far......
Edité par skeetles le 29/10/2006 à 21:51

oh wow!! please continue, i seriously can't wait!!

oh, thnx.....it was just a random story tht i liked, so yeah. I will update soon.

yay!! can't wait!

oohhh sounds good keep it going!

thnx! ok, here is an update!!!!:::


“Listen,” my mom said, “It’s as good as I am going to give you.”
The lady glared at her for a few seconds, looked at me, and sighed. “She’ll have to do.”
“She’d better.” My mom replied, looking at me, almost with disgust, and turned to walk out the door. “Mom?” I was getting scared. She wouldn’t leave me, would she? “MOM!” I said louder, when she got to the car door and opened it. She slid in the car, and started it up, slamming the door shut. When she began to drive away, that was it, I knew I was being abandoned. “MOM!! PLEASE!! DON’T LEAVE ME!” I started chasing after her car, but the old lady grabbed my arm, and started to drag me inside. I broke free, chasing after her car, but it was no use. She was gone, and never coming back, and there I was, stuck in a position I thought I would never be in. Alone, unloved, scared, and homeless.

“Mom….” I said in my sleep.
“MOM!” I screeched, than shot up straight. I have had that dream too many times. I looked around, hoping it was not just a dream, but no, I was still in the same place I fell asleep, on the sidewalk by a vacant store. I grabbed my coat, the one that I found someone throwing out, and pulled it over my shoulders. The wind started to pick up, and something cold and small hit my head, then my arm, when I opened my eyes, it started to rain. Then it poured down.
“Crud.” I said to myself, and looked across the street where a hotel was, and plenty of cars.

Running through the parking lot, I pulled on ever car door handle, but every one of them seemed to be locked. It seemed to be raining harder than before, and I was soaked. Finally I pulled on a car door handle, and the door opened to my surprise. I slid into the passenger side seat, and pulled my knees close to my chest, and sat there, trying to warm up. I started to look around the car—definitely a guy’s car—I could tell by the empty coke cans on the floor and CD’s placed outside their cases. I didn’t care; anything out of the rain will do for me. I made myself promise I wouldn’t fall asleep, but you can say anything to yourself, and do another. I climbed in the back seat, and laid down, eventually falling asleep.
“It’s a dream….and I don’t want to wake up
It’s the theme…..of my whole life.”

I woke up to that song on a radio. I opened my eyes and remembered were I was. But, the car was moving. I look ahead, still laying down, and see a kid around my age—which is around 17—driving the car. I sit up, in panic, but that was a bad idea. The guy, who was singing to the song on the radio, noticed me in his mirror. He screamed a girly scream, and stopped the car, “What are you doing here? What do you want? Don’t kill me!” I was quiet, and scared. I knew I shouldn’t have fallen asleep! This is it, he was going to call the police, I would be in jail for falling asleep in his car, waiting in death row for 25 years just to be killed, than finally being put to death.
Ok, maybe a little dramatic, but hey, I had a right to be—I was scared.
“I’m not going to kill you, if you promise to not call the police.” I say.
He nodded, and I climbed in the seat next to him. “Now,” I said, trying to act calm, “If you pull over, and let me out, I won’t kill you for sure.” I said. He turned, and looked at me, with a smile. I studied him; he wore a beanie hat, and a black hooded sweatshirt, and dressed like a rich punk kid. He had that look about him that seemed unsolved, yet, amusing. His hair stuck out of his hat, but not everywhere, unlike mine. But that was beside the point. He was cute, actually, very cute. “What are you doing in my car?” he asked. I immediately answered, “I’m sorry, really, I am, I just—” I stopped myself. If I didn’t look so homeless, or if this guy was a nut head, maybe I could get away without telling him I don’t have a home. “Could you just stop, so I could get home?”
“Why not I just drop you off at your home?” he asked, adding, “Where is it?” Ok, yeah, its official, this guy is a bonehead. I mean, look at me, I looked like I needed to shower, my clothes were way to big on me, and this jacket smelled of…everything possible to smell, and yeah, I had dirt smeared on my face. But maybe he was just being nice.
“No, it’s ok, I was out anyways. Just stop right here.”
“Here?” he said stopping the car, I went to open the door, but he started to drive again.
“Or was it here?” He drove ahead a few feet, and stopped. I turned around and laughed. “You think your so smart, huh?” I said, laughing. He was amusing, at least I thought so.
He just nodded, and I got out of the car. Before I closed the door, he stopped me, “Hey, will I see you around?” he asked, leaning into the other seat, so he could see me. I closed the door, and looked through the open window, “Yeah, around the supermarket, I’m there a lot.” He probably wouldn’t take me seriously.
“Ok, maybe I’ll see you around.” He said.
“Yeah, maybe.” I replied. I started to walk away, and he drove off.

nice...

real quickly- in the firth chapter the main character 'jonathan' was a boy (or i infered cuz of the name)- and then in the 2nd chapter a girl... so which is it?

but i luv it!
its very sad tht a parent could do tht...

keep it up Edité par will4ever le 29/10/2006 à 18:02
Edité par will4ever le 29/10/2006 à 18:50

i think jonathan's the girl... oh whoa, i liked it! please write more!!

No, jonathan is the father....but he ever came...so, he is only mentioned in the story once....so, ill fix it. srry for the confusion!!!

OMG that is soooo good!

Yeah it is really good. You make my storys sound like a little kid-wanna-be.

plz post more- its basically as good as my stories!

No!!! all you girls are great writers!!! Actually, katie, your stories help inspire me to write better!!!!!

and as for you Mrs. Will4ever (Jenn)
mine are basically as good as yours? we will see about tht! haha....j/k j/k girly!!! Luv ya!!!!

so, whos ready for an update??

ok well i must admit... mine are THE BEST ON THE WHOLE FORUM! lol jk jk

u r good though skettles hun..


i am def ready for more

lol!!! ur funny.....

ONE WEEK LATER

Walking through the streets, smelling different foods, and seeing different cultures in the market were a part of my every Saturday. I crossed the street, and walked up to a food booth or poultry and vegetables. “Hey Bill!” I said to the man behind the booth. “Hey honey! It’s been a long time!” He answered with a huge smile, and his Brooklyn based accent. “Any food today?” I asked—making sure I didn’t get my hopes up. He didn’t have food all the time. That was when I would have to steal it, or find something else. Bill was here Sundays, Saturday s, and Thursdays, and most of the time had food for me, free food, and helped me as much as he could so that I wouldn’t starve.
He gave me a sympathetic look, than said, “No…sorry doll. But tomorrow, there is sure to be some food!” he said, trying to encourage me. And I knew he was right, about the food being here tomorrow, but I haven’t eaten good food since Thursday, a little piece of bread here and there on Friday, and today, nothing. I was starving, but I was used to that. Bill started into conversation, “Oh! Make sure you do come tomorrow; my nephew is back from England. He went there to go and get his songs on record with his band.” He said, cheerfully. Bill had told me a lot about his nephew, but I never knew his name. I knew Bill had said it before, but I wasn’t paying attention. I nodded, and he went on, “I told him about you, and he said that he wants to meet you.” That had caught my full attention.
“Does he know I’m a homeless girl?” I asked.
He nodded. “Bill, your funny.” Was all I said, with some sarcasm.
After talking to him for about an hour, my stomach started to make noises, and it hurt. “Bill,” I started, “I’ll see ya later, I have to find some food.”
“Ok, Sierra,” he said, bending over the booth to give me a kiss on the cheek—he was like my own uncle—and he went on, “Just be careful Hun, ok?”
I nodded, “Ok, I will.”, and walked off, passing different food booths, each one of them calling my name. Finally, after walking in the sun, and passing all the food booths you could think of, I couldn’t take it. I walked up to a food booth, with fruits. I looked at them all, smelling them, and acting as though I were going to buy one. I spotted a big juicy apple, and looked at the lady that was selling the food. She was bending down, trying to grab some boxes. I looked both ways, making sure no one was looking. My fingers slowly gripped the big green apple, and pulled it away from the others. I quickly slipped it into my bag, but while I was still trying to open it—the lady stood up straight, “POLICE!!!!! THIEF!!! THIEF!!!” she screamed, pointing at me. I looked at the lady, then at the police heading my way, and darted through the crowd of people, passing by Bill’s food booth, and knocking over a few boxes. The police were right behind me, and I tried running faster, bumping into people, and breaking up groups of people. Then, I looked behind me, and the police were trying to catch up, but stuck in a group of people. I’m still running when I turn around and ran into someone. He caught me, and pulled me into a near-by alley. “Quiet!” he said, covering my mouth. I watched the police run by, and then I pushed away from the guy. I looked at him, and recognized him right away, “Noah?” I said, almost laughing. “I told you I would meet you here.” He answered.


so, what do u think???

omg that`s good!

oh snap.

para es muy excelente mi amiga mejor!

UPDATE! por favor?

yes u need to get in touch with ur spanish feng-shui (sp/)

Edité par will4ever le 31/10/2006 à 22:06

oh whoa... this is getting interesting

that was very goog will4ever, but u may wanna try to change the order of the words, here try this:

"para mi eso fue exelente, mi mejor amiga"

whichever way u prefer tho...

thnx- ill keep it in mind!

np
skeetles, that was really good... i'm really liking this story, very original...