Encounter

Chapter 1: Peace of Mind

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Character theme song - Emery - Gasoline by Halsey

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The sweet taste of burning nicotine fills my mouth and lungs as I take a deep inhale from my half-burned cigarette, staring across the road into the pale, murky, early evening horizon.
A gust of wind blows back at my hair and I close my eyes, letting the calming breeze chill my skin, as tingles run up across my cheekbones.
I exhale, opening my eyes, and watch the cloud of smoke rise up around me, turning my reality into a foggy representation of the world around me.
My thoughts tend to drift off at moments like this. And I picture what it would be like if this wasn't just my front lawn, or if this wasn't just my childhood town, but if I was somewhere, somewhere worthwhile, somewhere grand enough to quench my wanderlust for exploration that's growing more rapidly than ever.
Snow crunches under my worn combat boots, and ash sprinkles around the edges of my footprint as I mindlessly stomp out any remaining embers from this burned out escape to tranquility.
I'm not addicted to smokes.
It's mainly a once-a-day thing. I started back in sophomore year when I was crying over my ex who is long forgotten now.
I needed something, something to settle my nerves. A fresh new pack of smokes was the first thing my teary-eyes landed on, and being all alone, I let the smokey air fill my body, finally able to relax.
My parents?
They don't care.
Like they ever do.
Since I was a baby my life had been a survival of the fittest. You see, they were drunks. Every night I would lay in my bed and watch as they groggily made their way up the stairs, and to their bedroom sloppily spurting out a few words here and there about the sex they would be having that night.
I knew very well what sex was even at that young age, explaining how I lost my virginity at 13 to a junior in high school.
And let me tell you, I have no regrets doing it. "Dolores?" No response, as expected.
"Don't cause a scene at the bar again, mom."
The stairs did their orchestrated set of creaks and squeals as I stomped my way up to my room which was the same as it always was; not enough possessions to make it messy, blank, drab, and boring black and white sheets on a four-poster bed taking up half of the space, and a crammed writing desk by a jammed-closed window holding rickety blinds, which were accompanied by moth-eaten curtains.
Room sweet room.
I glanced into my closet where my four other in-no-way-noticeable outfits which hung from small metal hangers and pulled out an old sketchbook with a wrinkled leather cover, that in small, gold handwriting printed out my first name- Emery. I remember the exact date my dad bought me this, on my eleventh birthday at the small pottery shop downtown.
"The notebooks aren't for sale."
"Oh I'm sorry, I'm just looking for something to get my daughter as a gift, today's her birthday you see."
"I would of it weren't for the fact I'm trying to return them, it was an accidental shipment."
"Dad, this one has my name on it!"
"That it does! But the nice lady said you can't have one, they aren't for sale."
"But it says-"
"I know what it says, but you can't have all the pretty things in life, lets go Emery."
"But! Dad,"
"Take that one."
"What?"
"Take it, really. I'm sure they wont notice if just one is gone."
I brush the pages over with my finger pads before tucking it back into it's neat little hiding spot from life.
I sigh before collapsing down on the creaky old mattress which heaves a sigh of distress disguised by the cranks of springs.
I promised myself not to open that book.
I don't need the memories to come back.

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It was pretty stupid and corny but I tried to make a sort-of cliffhanger for the first chapter and I hope you enjoyed reading comment any suggestions and if you liked it don't forget to smash the vote button, anyways I hope you like it so far and I'll see you at the next chapter!

-2017 Nathalie Richards-