"APRIL!" My mother shouts.
"YES MOTHER?"
"COULD YOU COME DOWN HERE PLEASE? I NEED TO TALK TO YOU!"
"Uh oh. You're in trouble.' The little voice in my head said.
I make my way downstairs and go to the living room.
"Sit down April. We need to talk."
"About what?"
"As you should be currently aware, you are now exactly thirteen and a half. This age is important because it is the age you must reach to learn the truth."
"What truth mother? Are you a homosexual? If it was that I already knew-"
"No it's not that." Mother said quickly, cutting me off.
"Then what? And why are you talking so strangely?"
"Your life, is a book. Someone, right now, is writing out your life. He or she wrote me and what I'm saying. All of this," She said, gesturing around the room. "Is made up in that authors head. Everything you have done, or are going to do, has been decided by someone else."
"Pffft. What? No. That's not possible. My life is real. I'm a real human being! I'm not just some made up character in a book! I have a life and some friends! They are real. Not made up. Like me and you!
"I know this is hard to process, but it's true. But now that you're thirteen, the author has decided to let you go. He or she wants you to find them. He will connect with you and talk to you through other people. One day, you will be released from this story and will meet them." "What if I don't want to be realeased?"
"Oh but you must. He is writing what you're doing right now. Slowly, you will become your own person and he will no longer decide your life."
"Why not now?" "Because he wants you to do it later. He writes other peoples lives too. He just thought you were different."
I let out a frustrated cry and stormed upstairs. 'He just wrote that.' The voice said. 'And that, and that.'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sorry it's quite short. I'll make the other chapters a bit longer I promise! If you have any feedback please let me know in the comment section.
-April
(I don't think this chapter is edited)
YOU ARE READING
Storybooks
AdventureHave you ever felt like your life is being written? Like it is a book. It feels strange doesn't it? Feeling that you have no control over your life. That your life, your entire existence, is dependent on one single person. And that one single person...
