Salted Caramel Coffee (COMPLETED!)

Chapter One} $alted €aramel €offee

     A) write
     B) read
     C) pretend to be okay

     "Emma Jane Wolfe get your ass back down here before I punish you!" My mom yells up at me, her hands placed firmly on her hips. I storm from my room to the top of my staircase, gripping the banister as I glare down at her. My face is red from trying not to scream, and my eyes are narrowed so much I can barely see.

     "I'm not doing it," I say flatly.

     "Yes you are. It's not a discussion. Now come back down and write like you said you would."

     I scowl and stomp down the stairs, every step making the ground vibrate. I hate writing more than anything, but I have to do it. It's the law.

     Today I promised my mom I would write two chapters if she bought me this dark red lipstick that I can't afford to get with my own money. I didn't think about the fact however, that I would actually have to do the writing later. So when I really have to do it, it's like a slap in the face.

     June first, 3062. The seasons roll by without meaning, each day the same as the last. Every day, I wake up and my mom badgers me about my writing. I refuse and get grounded. Then I eat, go back to sleep, and do it all over again. It's a vicious cycle that makes me want to jump out a window just so it can end. I could have been a doctor or a makeup artist or an inventor. But no. Of course I have to be a writer. Because there's nothing more that the world enjoys than seeing me struggle.

     When I was born, I was selected to become a writer. And when you're selected for a certain job, you have to follow through with it until the end of your life. There must be millions of chefs and teachers and television producers, but there are only twenty writers in the entire country. That being so, I have to write constantly. But I despise it. When I sit down in front of a piece of paper, nothing comes to mind except a longing to do literally anything else. It's impossible.

     My mom is a personal trainer, and it comes off in the way she talks to me. She's strict, and doesn't take any shit from me no matter what. Life is no game to her, it's a competition.

      I kind of have a dad, but it's a pretty big stretch to call him that. Sure, he's my biological dad, but he's never really been my father. He's barely ever home because he's constantly out of the country on business. I'm not a hundred percent sure what his job is- or even if he likes it- but I don't think it matters much. He's not around enough for me to care.

     My seventeen year old brother Carmen is the definition of annoying. He's made of pure muscle, is six feet tall and looks like he could be a basketball player, but still manages to be the biggest nerd on the planet. He's an engineer, and couldn't have gotten a better job for himself if he tried. He loves it. Not only that, but he also loves to rub it in my face.

     "Now you sit here and don't move until you finish this," my mother instructs, sitting me down in front of a piece of paper that's perfectly lined up with the side of the table and a pencil that's positioned the exact same way.

     "I might be here awhile," I snap.

     My mother rolls her eyes. "I don't care if you sit there forever, just get it done."

      I scoff, not reaching for the pencil even though I should. "Sure. Whatever."

      "You will get it done," she says, "get a move on. And wipe that makeup off your face while you're at it; you look ridiculous."

My mother walks away, but I don't move. Instead of beginning to write or even picking up my pencil, I just stare at the paper in frustration. There is nothing more that I would like to do than rip up that paper and toss it straight into the garbage, but I can't. No matter how hard I bore my eyes into the sheet, an idea is yet to come to my mind. My brain rages with storylines and plots and even a few characters, but I can't seem to grab onto one long enough to actually put it onto paper.

A girl who's lost on an island in the middle of -nowhere. A land called nowhere that's-so amazing that they might even consider it to be the best amusement park they've ever been to. However, a boy named- Simon isn't normal. He has powers that even he doesn't know about- yet she doesn't even look back to see that he was crying too...

     It's not that I don't have stories to write, it's that I can't put them to words.

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Hey guys so this is my very first chapter!!!! I'm so excited to present this to you guys and I really hope you like it💞 Drop a comment to let me know what you think of this chapter and your predictions for the next ones. I could never do this without you guys.
- Shayna