Skits of Stories

P r o l o g u e

The room was quiet, and all she hears is silence.

It was everyday that she encounters a wisp of solemnity whenever she would sit still inside her unfinished bedroom; a bed was there – yes, but that was all there is other than the small study table found below her bed. Although as peaceful as it was, the musical tranquility injects the author's mind with different vials of thoughts that spiraled inside her head.

It was merely just silence, but for her, it is that moment when all of her ideas come to life.

A beautiful majestic moment, one that she craves for each day that passed by. There was always this tingling feeling beneath her skin that crawls down her spine, a tickling feeling that nibbles on her toes, and a heart-warming touch that her fingers had brushed. All of these moments came from her pretty little mind – a mind so delirious, she would call it something wonderful.

She sighed as her dark brown eyes scanned her half-empty room. There were so many things that she consumed her head, she wasn't sure where she would start.

Why was she doing this?

The first question was asked, and therefore she would answer. She loved to write. She could write thousands of words within a single day, and she knew it – judging by the word count that Wattpad had provided at the bottom right part of the screen of her cellphone. She was forever indebted with writing, it became her whole life.

But, there was a problem.

Her eyebrows furrowed after rereading that statement she wrote – what was so captivating about that sentence that caused a frown to smear across her face?

She was worried, but why?

Because her future depended on her.

What was she to do? She couldn't think straight when the thought of Senior High School and College were nearby her, and soon enough, her fate would be sealed. She hated the decision between practicality and dreams – she wanted to become an author, but where was the support?

She paused upon writing that sentence. There were a few people who had known of this predicament of hers that she had secretly kept under lock and key – and they were her friends and readers. And both of these members always placed a smile on her lips.

Whenever she had wrote a new chapter, her heart always beats a million times faster than it usually does. It always hitched her breath whenever one part of one of her stories were published under the revisions of Wattpad, because she didn't knew who and how many would like her story and her writing. Demi Lovato did sang that I'm my own worst critic, talk a whole lot of sh!t. And that line could never have been more true for the author herself, for she always has a way of bringing herself down.

She was an over thinker, and to hell would it be for that. She knew that she has something to prove to the world, and if so, would that be enough to create her a legacy?

Legacy.

What is a legacy?

She chuckled and lightly scoffed at her own doing; she swears she's in love with Hamilton a little too much – and she's gotta hand it to Lin-Manuel Miranda though, he made one of the best musicals that history has ever seen. But with all the jokes aside, there was something deep inside her that she wanted to do: something she knew was worth taking the risk for.

Becoming an author is already a risk-taking factor of her life, would she be ready to face more of what comes next? What did she want to prove?