- Text Size +
Author's Chapter Notes:
So, I've returned! I'm probably known for my reputation of not completing stories on this site, and I fully understand why and accept that. I was away for a while because my internet was shut off. But now I'm back! And to be honest? I don't have the motivation/inspiration to continue any of my standing stories. So, for that, I apologize. However, this one kinda came out a few nights ago, and it seems interesting (to me, at least). The prologue is short (I'm determined to make the chapters longer) but I really just want to get feedback from the readers to see if it looks enjoyable or not.

So please!
Read and Review!!
“Shit, Alex. Turn off that God damn computer, would you?!” Kerstin Andrews emerged from her bedroom into the living room of the small two bedroom apartment long enough to pelt her best friend with a pillow. She squinted through the little light from the laptop her friend was typing furiously on.

“Just give me ten minutes, Kerst. I just got an idea and I have to run with it before it disappears,” Alex McIntosh, also known as Allie, mumbled as she continued her rapid typing. She glanced quickly through her black rimmed glasses at the door where her roommate was standing to give her a pleading look.

“Jesus Christ, Al. Every night you’re on that damn thing typing away. Honey, you’re obsessing in these…stories of your’s,” Kerstin rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and trudged over to her friend’s desk.

Best friends for fifteen years. Kerstin and Alex had grown up in the same neighborhood in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, and after much thought and careful consideration, they decided to attend Syracuse University in Syracuse, New York. “Please…just let me work. Go back to sleep. I’ll migrate to my bedroom if you need me to. I have enough power now.” Alex muttered and unplugged the power cord and transferred into her bedroom. Before the door shut, Kerstin heard her friend mumble a, “Goodnight.”

“What the hell?” Kerstin scoffed and folded her arms across her chest. Instead of bitching about it anymore, she realized it was too late and gave in to her best friend. Sleep washed over her in no time.

Alex sat back and looked over her words. God, sometimes she made herself sound so…perfect. Yet, her characters were so flawed. Was that a good thing? Maybe not. Backspace. Alex’s big brown eyes found the bright red lights beside her on her nightstand. 1:23 AM. It wasn’t unusual. All of her life Alex had been a writer, and all of her life she spent many sleeping hours devoted to her writing. It always happened the same way. She would be ready for bed, ready to crash and then all of a sudden, an “amazing” idea would wash over her. Of course she couldn’t just let the idea go. If she did, it would lose all inspiration and she wouldn’t touch it again. Then the common disease of writer’s block would take over her world and she wouldn’t pop out another “amazing idea” for weeks.

In this case? Alex had come up with a story about a very intelligent girl living in the midst of New York City’s crazy world meeting a very superficial boy from the inner city. The boy believes the girl is innocent and naïve and that he can get away with absolutely anything. However, she decides to turn the tables and make their relationship a complete joke. The deep points of the story Alex wanted to include were things like -- the girl never really learned how to love anyone or develop a romantic relationship. She was afraid.

A smirk found its way on Alex’s lips as she read over her own thoughts and ideas. God, this story sounded like it came from the book of her life. Alex wasn’t really into the whole relationship scene. She never had been. She had kissed a boy once her freshman year of high school from her newspaper staff, but it was all but romantic. It was sloppy and she could only remember the distinction of saliva all over her chin afterwards (and it definitely wasn’t her’s).

Satisfied with her work for the night and almost positive the idea wouldn’t lose any inspiration or motivation, Alex decided it was well past her resting time.

Besides, she’d set the alarm for 6:00 AM so she wouldn’t miss a second of writing time.