Dates I'll Never Forget.

Chapter 1

March 25th

I started working on my Biology homework on the dining room table. As I write my hand smears some of the words I've just scribbled down. I look outside and see the sun emerging from behind the houses. The neighborhood I live in is nice, before my family had lived in a simple small house with two rooms, but after the extension was added, meaning me, we moved because my brother was growing as well as myself. I was two when we moved, I feel bad for Mason because he had to share a room with me up until age 9. My parents said he never complained though.

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and before the human figure comes into my field of view I call out to him because I know who it is.

"Hey Dad. Heading off to work early again?" I see him emerge from around the corner wearing casual sweats and a loose grey t-shirt. I suggest not.

"Nah I gave my students an extra day to finish their papers. Speaking of which, how's your writing project you've been working on?" He says pulling a stool from the table, it's legs scraping against the floor like nails on a chalkboard.

I flinch a little. "I don't really know to be honest, I've been stumped for a while about the story I'm writing." It's true, I've been writing and deleting sentences and scenes from this writing piece I've been creating.

"Well what's got you stumped kiddo?" I've been meaning to ask my father for advice but both my parents have been a little focused on Mason who's taking a couple weeks away from his junior year in college. They've tried inviting me to go out with them, but I decline because I spend a lot of time with Mason as it is over phone calls. They don't usually get time to talk to him when he's away so that's their time.

"That's kinda the issue. I don't really know if other people will like it." I say to my dad after thinking for a few moments about what's actually making the backspace and me best friends.

"Well Houlden, let me tell you something that I tell my students. Fuck what others think, if it comes from the soul then it's going to be good in somebody's eyes." I smile at this comment, my dad, well family has never been the most appropriate family for language.

"Okay, thanks." I begin to think of all the ideas that I've erased, and then I finally find the one I was content with just didn't think it was good enough for other people to read, I put that thought in the back of my head.. I don't even bother getting out my other notebook, I just flip the page and start writing. I see my dad shaking his heads while smiling.

"You're definitely my son." He says. I pause and look at him and continue the saying we do almost everyday, "And you're definitely my dad."

I guess you could say it's our own way of saying "I love you" and "I love you too" just without all the emotion, but then again this stupid phrase might have more meaning than any I love you I could ever hear.

I write until my hand cramps up and I've got four, well really three and a half pages of my messy hand writing down on the pages. Half of one of the pages I'm not counting because I had to avoid some doodles Mason and I did a couple days ago.

Mason wanted to be an artist since the day I could remember, but he unfortunately realized only a handful make it big and relying solely on your work isn't enough to raise a family on later on, so he went to his second option for college. He is extremely good though, his doodles he effortlessly has drawn on my page looks like something straight out of museum. It's a shame he didn't go for the job he was most passionate about. That's the issue with this place called the world. Most people just don't seem happy with what they do and it's kinda sad they never really got the chance to do what they love.

With those thoughts in my head I begin revising when I hear the 4th stair from the bottom creaking, it's my mother, she looks like she has just woken up considering she has her glasses on and has a massive case of bed head. I heard her moving around last night from room to room. I walked into the living room and sat with her for 20 minutes just talking about recent news of the family while she tried to calm her stomach down.