Adventures of a Writer: The Story of Alice Friday

     As a writer, I ponder what to write about. Should I write about my views of life? A story just to entertain many people then have my story end up sitting in a bookshelf left forgotten? Or do I write about this world’s problems and hope someone listens to me? The story I wanted to write about didn’t involve any of these questions at all.

I sat in front of my writing desk late at night, staring at my bright laptop screen, watching the I beam blink. The things I have seen and done should I even share it to the world? I was given instructions to never let anyone know about my adventures and back then I would just listen to them, but because a friend ask me to write about it, I didn’t hesitate to jump to it. I want to share my adventures to the people who want to read it. It’s not because I want to change an opinion or talk about issues that should get fixed. It is because I want to inspire someone. I want to inspire anyone who is lost just like I was. After reminiscing of what happened to me this past year I couldn’t help, but just smile at the precious memories I made. With a quick movement of my hands, I began to type my adventures.   

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I once believe that taking your time with life was just an everyday thing. Never to rush at anything, but at the same time not really care what goes on unless it really affects you. Just wait till something exciting comes around. I never made goals for myself not even one. I am simply just a fantasy and science fiction writer for a television studio that did her job without complaint. I have an amazing family, wonderful friends that I care about and the most fantastic boyfriend ever. Despite all this I felt this is what life had to offer me making me feel content about it. Basically, just doing the same thing over and over till something comes and I deal with it my way. Something did come, but it wasn’t what I expected.

A couple of months ago I was feeling quite ill and went to the doctor’s office. After some test they found out I didn’t have much time to live. They couldn’t do anything for me, but ease the pain with just some medication. I have some sort of aggressive form of leukemia, but I was in utter shock to remember the name. After that, I went back home and just cried the whole day and night. I was angry with myself and with life. Why did life have to do this to me? I haven’t done anything wrong.

     Once the news was heard, my family tried to comfort me, but I told them I wanted to be alone for a while. My friends tried to cheer me up, but I ended slamming the door on them. My boyfriend ended up moving in with me just to keep an eye on me, but despite all that I didn’t talk to him for a week. I just wanted everyone to leave me alone.

One day I ran out of my house without a word. No note was left nor did I call anyone to tell them where I was heading. I simply ran till I couldn’t run anymore. Before I knew it, I was walking on a sidewalk with people just rushing to their day to day life. To me, every day they would go about their lives not knowing what could happen to them. I no longer could be like them anymore. I was upset, but I couldn’t do a thing about it.

For an hour, I walked like a zombie without thinking where I was till I saw the most peculiar man sitting on the sidewalk. He wore a dark green hoodie that only covered his eyes. Along with that, he wore light brown khaki pants combined with black leather boots. I could see half of his face was covered in a 5 o’clock shadow. My first impression of him was that he is a beggar or a homeless man, yet he held up a wooden sign that read “Looking for a Writer”.

     My second impression was that the man was crazy. In the end though, my third and last impression of this man would be that he is the one of the greatest people I ever met. I approached the man that everyone on the street ignored, mostly because I was curious and I had nothing better to do.

     “Excuse me sir, but I couldn’t help notice you were looking for a writer,” I said.

     He looked up, from under his hood, and his dark brown eyes stared deep into my hazel eyes. I saw that in his eyes he seen so much pain, suffering, yet they also shined with happiness and joy. I watched his face grow into a big smile and with a jolly, but rough voice he spoke to me.