Smol Random Fics

The Boy Who Wanted to Write

He sat on his bed, laptop in his lap and phone beside him. This boy had wanted to be an author since he knew how to read. He loved the feeling that the book gave him while he was reading, or when he finished a book. The warmth in his chest as he closed a book and sighed was the best feeling in the world to him.

When he started middle school, he already was writing short stories. They needed so much work but he was happy with how they turned out at the time. Every time he finished one he showed it to his English teacher, who was very proud of his work. When he moved up to seventh grade, he had the best English teacher ever. He would let them write whatever they wanted in class, as long as they were writing. He graded their essays or stories and then taught them what it seemed like they didn't know based on the work. The boy, who I have yet to tell you his name, was one of the only kids who wrote something for the teacher more than once a week. He wrote every night, and edited what he could every morning. Some of the grades in his other classes were dropping because of all of the writing he did.

When he moved up to eighth grade, his English teacher was a monster. He hated her more than he hated poorly written stories, which was actually quite a lot. He had hoped that his previous English teacher would still be at the school, but his hopes had been crushed when he walked up to the classroom and saw a new teacher. That year he barley wrote anything. This was the year that would decide if he would even go to high school, which meant no late night writing. Actually there was no time for writing at all. Between studying and school regulated homework, he was babysitting and learning how to take care of kids. If being an author fell through, his back-up plan is working in a daycare center.

When he got to ninth grade, he was drawing more than writing and he had almost completely lost interest in writing stories. He still reads regularly and he has ideas for stories, but he never writes them down and forgets before he even has a chance. Not that he wants to write them down, they'll all be stupid anyways. He sighs to himself and looks over at the other kids in English and wonders how the hell they can write so quickly. This is the English class for dumbasses! Normally when he sees these kids outside of class, they're so stupid. The never listen or work and they definitely don't have proper grammar, so why now? He wonders to himself.