What If?

Mornings.

HEY Y’ALL Here’s the first chapter of my story, it’s slow, but please stick with it I promise it gets better. Comment/vote/fan… All the stuff other authors tell you to do, it’d be much appreciated!! If you have a good idea of what a Midwestern country accent sounds like, that’s how they’re talking if you want a better mental image. Alright guys, enjoy <3<3<3

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Chapter 1.

Mornings

                I woke to the sound of bacon sizzling and bubbling in the frying pan. I looked out my old, dusty window overlooking the empty pasture. The sun shone through my window and onto the floor, where my calico cat Moose was curled up sleeping.

I looked at the clock, still not quite awake, so my eyes had to adjust before I could read the time. Eight thirty six, it read. Great, I slept in again. I sat up in bed and stretched, then pulled the covers off my small body and stood up. I grabbed my glasses off my night stand and put them on, then trudged to the hallway and into the bathroom. I flipped the switch on and looked in the mirror. I always look horrible in the mornings. My hair was all tangled and falling out of the bun I put it in before bed. I quickly re-did my hair, just because it was bothering me, and I brushed my teeth, and then took a quick 5 minute morning shower.

Most mornings when I dragged myself down the long flight of stairs connecting our spotless downstairs to our filthy upstairs, Mama was making one of her fabulous meals and Papa was out on the front porch with Red, sipping his orange juice and waiting for breakfast to start.

"Morning Mama."

 "Oh there you are Soph; I thought I was going to have to wake you up again. Sleep well?"

                My mom was too nice. Even going on two or three hours of sleep a night, she was always in the best of moods and we were really close.

 "I slept great mama."

I really did. Lately I had been having dreams, weird ones. I woke in the middle of the night screaming sometimes. I don't know why. But last night I slept great.

 "Good to hear baby." Mama replied, with a smile.

 I walked out to sit next to papa on our homemade porch swing. Papa's real crafty. Always building things. "Mornin'." I said, trying to start a conversation.

He didn’t answer me. I sat there in silence looking out onto the horizon, the sun was already in the sky, I usually wake up around six, I hate sleeping in- there is so much I could have gotten done already today. The porch swing creaked every time it swung forward, a usual sound that I’d gotten used to over the years. Papa always says he’s gonna fix it, it still hasn’t happened. Since it was obvious that Papa wasn’t planning on talking to me any time soon, I got up and walked down the old steps leading to the front yard. I slowly walked around the side of the house and over to the garden Mama and I grow our vegetables in. I started picking weeds and throwing them into the compost pile. Damn things won’t quit growing in here no matter what Mama and I do.

Once all the weeds were picked, I unraveled the hose and turned on the water. I watered first the carrots, then the broccoli, beets, cabbage, lettuce, onions, potatoes, radishes, spinach and finally the turnips. This garden keeps Mama busy, and she checks on it multiple times each day. She watches it like it’s her child. We only grow vegetables in the spring, because Mama has other responsibilities during the other seasons.

Once I finished tending to the garden, I turned the water off and wound the hose back up. Then I decided to go back inside because breakfast was most likely about done.