The Bored Book

Write Me A Star (54)

This is my entry for Weekly Wattpad contest number 54
TimberWoolf Contests
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Allen wasn't sure when it first began. Maybe it was on the first day she moved into apartment building 205 a month ago or maybe it started even a little before that. All she knew for sure was that with each handwritten note, her heart became richer then gold.

She didn't have alot of confidence or motivation. Her laugh at a party would be the most controlled and forceful, and thats if she even bother to turn up. She was a struggling author and writer, that had been the basis for her move.

Get out of your parent's pocket, find a job, just till the books take off and work your ass off everyday and until you can call Stephen King friend and JK Rowling roommate.

Okay so calling JKR roommate is weird and less likely to happen then world war three but, a girl got to dream.

It was because of her stress, her anxiety and worries that the notes meant so much. She gotten her one of her first ones on a pretty horrible day.

The publisher who had been interested in one of her book, dropped out of their deal and- earth apparently, because she couldn't find him anywhere.

Allen, of course, took this as an excuse to eat ice cream and watch Game of thrones into the late hours of the night which turned out to be one bad decision, given the fact that she had work early that very morning.

Thats when she opened her yellow creamery door to a pale pink piece of paper, there was a moment of indecision, wasn't this a scene in Annabelle?

She picked it up anyway. Because she hasn't had a possessed doll in her house since Chucky.

You've been trying too hard, thinking too much. Relax. Trust your instincts. Just be yourself.

Allen stared at the paper then frantically stepped out of her door and looked around the lovely creamy coloured hall. There a curvy staircase that narrowed and turned so she could never exactly see what was up there unless she actually walked up there. The stairs were coloured a playful peach and had a victorian white bannister.

Allen barely caught a small shadow before it ran further up the stairs and disappeared. She had only been on the fourth floor of her apartment building once or twice but she knew that Ms. Rodriguez live there.

But,

Why was an old lady doing leaving her notes?

~2~

It was eleven pm late one night when Allen returned home. Turns out Sandy, the only other waitress at Wendy's Cakes, was home sick and she had to cover her shifts.

The moment she stepped out of the elevator she saw the note at her doorstep.

You resolve to continue pushing yourself. Perhaps there's more to you than you thought.

Allen the read massage quietly then reread it later that night while eatting her dinner of cold pizza.

Was it some sort of quotes she was getting? Or was the writer writing it themselves?

Either way that night her heart never stopped flattering.

~3~

It would be two weeks later that Allen would get her first real lead on who the mystery writer was.
She wasn't trying too hard to figure it out, the mystery was doing wonders for her novels, but still, she wanted to know who cared enough to pay attention to her.