Narrow Steps

Narrow Steps: Chapter One

   Writing literature is my way of escaping a world that everyone wishes they were able to. Weather it's me writing about fictional characters in a fictional world or it's just a diary entry so deep into thought and overflowing with emotion it's almost like fiction to the reader.

   Every day is like an emotional rollercoaster; I swear I'm bipolar. The ride can get so bumpy and outrageous you just want to stop riding it but the adrenaline makes you want to keep on riding like a heroin addict wants to keep on using, who's going to stop you? Answer, no one.

   The outline of my day is usually the same, it's the little details that drive me insane. Look at an author, even the most experienced, the outline of the book or story they intend to write is easy to make up but you can't have a story without little details because that's what makes a story interesting. Without details the author fails at his or hers attempt and probably will never finish that project. My little details are never the same and are always unexpected.

   This mornin' the beginning of the outline started out just like every day. I woke up, dressed, brushed my teeth and ate Cinnamon Toast Crunch, my favorite breakfast meal. It's Monday.

"Great, my favorite day of the week," I mumbled under my breath between bites of the cinnamon goodness obviously using sarcasm.

   I never really liked this new high school I was forced to attended due to my fathers new single status and his new job, a better job. This whole new town, new school and new friend, yes I said friend as of one, plural,  has severely messed with my daily routine or may I say, my outline so much I can't even start to explain.

   After eating I slip into a pair of my shoes and walk outside into the frigid temperature and find a dusting of snow on the ground. My car my father recently bought me was a used one and he told me that if I can prove that I am mature enough to maintain the vehichal then he'd get me a new one, a better one. I don't understand people, why does everyone want to upgrade? Why does everyone want to get something bigger, better? Why did my father insist on getting a better job and why does he automatically assume that I want a new vehicle? I don't like change, in fact I hate change. Change destroys everything for me.

   The trip to Wilson High School is not very long, maybe twenty minutes away from our Portland Oregon house. As I pull into the drive that leads to the parking lot I see a few of the freshman standing off to the side smoking cigarettes. What do they think, smoking is cool? No. Smoking is not cool. My great grandmother died of lung cancer and yes, she smoked for fifty years. She died at the age of seventy when I was fifteen. My grandma and myself was very close and I just feel like punching everyone of them stupid little freshmen in the face. Stupid freshmen. Wait, I'm a sophomore and I'm only a year older then them. Do I have the right to call them stupid. Ah, who cares? They really make me mad.

   I get out of my vehichal which is a 2002 Dodge Neon, it's defiantly a stand out compared to all these cars that scream, "I'm rich," and walk across the parking lot trying to avoid anyone and everyone around me. I do not like people here, I'm nothing like them. I don't like mainstream rap and pop. I don't like name brand clothing and jewelry. I am the quiet kid who likes to not eat lunch but instead write in my journal. People in this school consider that being weird but in my old school everyone liked my quietness. They liked to read my books and actually waited for updates on my characters. They didn't knock my books out of my hands and call me a nerd. I hate this school and everything about it. I hate my dad's choice to move here for money. Money is temporary, friendships are eternal.

   I still don't have my eight periods of classes down yet so I still have to walk down the narrow hallway with my head down looking at my schedule and map of the school. Every so often I bump into someone and they sort of toss me to the side and say a few choice words but I just ignore them. I finally arrive at my first period class, Geometry, and I am the first one in the class. I still haven't met the teacher of this class because last week we were only here two days out of the five because of the snow storm we had. The two days we were here I wasn't able to meet him because we had two hour delays. According to my schedule the teacher was named Robert Sanchez.

   Mr. Sanchez walked into the room a few moments later and he introduced himself to me. "Hello, my name is Mr. Sanchez but most of my students call me Bob. You can call me whatever you please." He put down his backpack under his desk and walked to the back counter and picked up a large green textbook. "This is the book we will be using the rest of the semester make sure you bring it with you the rest of the year."

   "Yes sir," I said quickly.

   "Any questions?" He asked me just as a few students walked into the room.

   "Um," I though, "yes. Where can I set?"

   "Anywhere you please," he said then took a sip of his Starbucks coffee.

   By 8:15 everyone is set down in their seat and Mr. Sanchez takes role call. "Jenna?"

   "Here."

   "Jody?"

   "Here." Mr. Sanchez goes through his whole list and every now and then an immature student, probably a freshman, says somethin' immature to hopefully get a few giggles from their peers. In this class there is about sixty students. At my old school, South Gallia, my biggest class was twenty five students max. Hell, there was only sixty eight students in my whole sophomore class! I don't know if it's just that there's more students at this school but it is way easier to find a jerk in this school then it was at South Gallia. Maybe the percentage of jerks at this school is bigger though, maybe.

   The rest of the class we just talk about something I've already learnt at South Gallia. After class was over I left the classroom with a red mark on my cheek due to it pressing against my text book. I would blame getting no sleep last night but I actually got more sleep then needed. Second period, English II, third period, American History and fourth period, Financial Management went by fast and I luckily didn't run into too many jerks, none of them were royal pains either. Lunch, which is fith period came too early because I did not feel like eating at all, hunger was nonexistent. I hope I can see Jamie, this, unfournatly, is the only time I get to see him all day. Just as I sat down and opened my journal to find out Jacks new adventure in my current project Jamie said my name and it almost sounded like a heavenly choir sung it. "Haley."

   Jamie's voice is so intriguing, it draws you in and makes you want to hear more. I call it a speakers voice because he could persuade me to do anything. When I say anything I mean anything.

   I turn around trying not to blush and say, "Yes?" as if it was a question.

   "May I join you and your lovely feast?" He chuckled.

   "Anything for the King," I reply. 

   "May I read?" He asked while grabbing my opened journal. I snatch the book away from him as fast as I could and sternly told him no.

   I never let anyone see my journal. It's not like I have something to hide, I don't, I just feel like an author should keep their works to themselves if it's not worthy of being published. I have submitted many of my complete novels to many publishing company's all of which has turned me down. I must have fifty letters hung up on my wall from various companys all of which tell me my work isn't good enough. People always ask me why I keep these letters hung up on my wall, why don't I throw them away because they are useless and my answer is always the same, it reminds me I have to be better because good is never good enough.

I continue as if nothing has happened. "You need to eat, you're skinny as a rail."

    "I love your country similies you use, who could ever think of something as crazy as skinny as a rail?

   "People from southern Ohio I guess," I chuckled. After being able to see Jamie the rest of my day went perfectly fine. Is it possible to be in love so early after meeting someone?

A/N Chapter one is complete. If you enjoyed be sure to vote, follow me and comment. :) I don't mind criticism. Share on Facebook and Twitter if you enjoyed real well :) Follow on Instagram @narrow_steps_ and on Twitter @Andrew_2016_

This is the revised version, if you find a mistake please comment and tell. I plan on trying to get this published. :)