Things In Between

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I remember when I was thirteen.

I sat with my family and they went around asking the kids what the wanted to be when they were older. Me, they didn't put too much attention to. They never did. I was the girl in the family that they were slightly disappointed in. I didn't have a future as my granddad said. It wasn't like I was dying or anything. I just wasn't interested in maths nor chemistry. I guess I was the black sheep of the family. 

Anyways They asked what I wanted to be when I grew up.

They looked at me and I answered them quite quickly. "A Writer" Their looks quickly turned to my younger brother and went on with their evening. 

I think that's when i made up my mind. I was going to be a writer. I wasn't going to let anybody stop me from that. It wasn't necessarily to prove my granddad or family wrong it was more to prove it to myself. 

I got more determined when I walked into a bookstore and watched the toplist's of books. Or when I read others books. 

When I finished collage I had been writing on my book for two years. Not that I hadn't written anything since then. I had. But not like this. This was different. When i didn't work i wrote. I lost a lot of friends. Not because they were bad it was my own fault really. A few stayed. I really count them as my best friends. 

The book was my life work more or less. I wanted that number one spot more then anything. 

Things come in between. Stuff you don't count on. 

Love. 

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