Monday, December 23, 2013

Writing A Book

   Hi, it's Jane here. I want to share big news:
I am going to TRY to write a book. I've thought of the name(it's for the Olivia Rake story):
*Drumroll*
Crying in the darkness
Here's an update!!!!
 The image of him, sipping coffee by himself, black button-down coat and all was too upsetting to think about. How can I not, though? My FATHER, the one who had walked away from my family a couple of months ago was still in town. I miss him. I miss his olive skin and jet black hair and hazel eyes he passed on to me. I miss the hug he used to give me, and I miss him kissing my forehead before bed and if I cried he would lull me to sleep.
 But after all that, I’m stuck with one question: Why?
            Why did he leave my mother to cry in the darkness, as she says? Why did he leave me without a goodbye or a simple ‘forgive me, my Olivia.’? And most of all, why was he in the coffee shop that day?
 The vivid image of him is painted in my mind, making me hold my stomach and shiver in fear. He looked—well, scary. For a girl who was abandoned by her parent, it’s frightening.
   Sometimes I just want to run away from everything. Just run away—but I would at least leave a note. I remember when I was 4, I was mad at my mother because she didn’t let me get ice cream because I was allergic. I was furious because all the other kids were eating it, and I pouted. I ran away from the park but then an old lady knew who I was and brought me to my mother. If I ran away and the old lady was still alive I’d be (and her as well) too old for her to bring back home.
‘’ Mom I’m going for a walk.’’ I pushed the thought of the old lady out of my mind and forced myself to be questioning my father.
‘’Okay, be back soon.’’ My mother’s voice was shaking. From crying. Sometimes I wonder why she doesn’t stop.
 I grab my journal and my jacket. I shrug on the jacket and my eyes fill with tears. It smells like my father because I hugged him every day with it on.
I shove the journal in the biggest pocket and swing open the door. I zip up the jacket, and then take a deep breath.
I run as fast as a cheetah.
I run until I think I’m far away from all my problems. I run until I’m tired. I run until I reach a soothing place.
   It really is soothing. Imagine green for miles and miles, and flowers in patches of ten.  Imagine a river right nearby. Imagine the sweet sound of birds chirping. I hop around in the meadow, hoping nobody’s around.  I fall in a heap on the floor, noticing the sun is shining and there’s no snow around.
I must be dreaming.
 Or maybe I’m not, because I can still see my father in the back of my mind.
  I run to the top of one of a million bouncing hills, and shout at the top of my lungs:
‘’WHERE ARE YOU DADDY?”
My words bounce back.
‘’ WHY CAN’T I SEE YOU?’’ I shout, tears rushing down my cheeks. All of a sudden I see a figure running.
Is that you Daddy?
The figure is saying something to me. I can feel it. Or else I’m hallucinating.  I know I’m not.
‘’NO!” I scream out to it as it fades away. ‘’DADDY DON’T LEAVE ME!!”
   But even though I couldn’t hear what he said, I made up his words in my head.

Forgive me, Olivia.


Please tell me if you like it!