The Richardsons

Video #38

"Welp, today I go back to school. And today, I have to read a little bit of my book which is complete but I feel like it would be weird and when I hear my voice I'm just like ugh. Anyways, wish me luck because I think I'm going to stutter."

I'm currently sitting in AP English, a nervous wreck, listening as each person in my class reads one part of their story. Most people do their first chapter of prologue. One guy wrote a Spider-Man fan-fiction that was so horrible that I cackled under my breath. I mean, imagine taking "she slid her hand down my spider suit and feeling the tight fabric clench on my body" seriously. My teacher made a disgusted face and everybody else was in total shock.

"Did you really expect writing spider man smut will get you anywhere in life? FANFICTION IS NOT A GENRE!"

A girl wrote a sad love story about a school romance and even though some parts were cheesy, it does have potential.

"We're like parallel lines, we're next to each other, but we'll never touch each other."

That was deep.

Some stories had momentum, it's just that the person writing them cannot express their ideas correctly.

"Vienna was her name, and she was born with the skin of a cocoon. If she even cuts even a little bit of her skin, she will bleed to death."

"You probably heard of the Loch Ness Monster, but what about a water park with a horror filled twist?"

Some parts were short and some parts were long. Seriously, a girl's prologue took 10 whole minutes, and the teacher told her to speed it up!

He went down the list of everybody in Alphabetical Order.

"Katherine Richardsons! It's your turn."

Gulp.

I finished my story a long time ago, but I feel like it's so messy and undone. I step on the empty space and see everybody's eyes on me.

Just breathe, Kat. Breathe.

I go to the first part of my book, my prologue.

"On the tip of the Southwest coast of England, sandwiched in between England and Wales, there lays a small town. A small town on the edge of the water, a small town with a big story, and filled with the stories of other people. Some stories are happy, some are not. Some people have others to rely on, and some don't. Some came to restart their lives, and others had their roots planted here for generations.

This is the story of a small seaside town called Sennen Cove, a small town of only about 100 people. Even in such a small population lies a wide amount of diversity. Their small world and small home make it that everybody is so tight knit to each other. The diary entries that go in their books, even a stranger would know what's in your diary.

When you go into this town, you will feel a sense of mystery, who are the people of this town? Who really are they? What stories do they hide? The story takes place as a chapter per house as there are 20 houses in this neighborhood. Love, pain, sorrow, forbidden bonds, and more. Dive deeper into this small town as you follow their world."

And that's when I stopped. Everybody was silent.

My teacher tapped his pen on his desk.

"Interesting. You have an idea like no other. I like how each chapter is a house. 20 chapters, 20 houses. It reminds me of a play that I saw. Kat, you have a knack for English. Do you plan on becoming a writer? You have unique ideas and so far, they are executed fairly well."

"I might write a novel here or there, but I was not planning on becoming a writer writer."

"Oh, what were you planning on majoring in college?"

Should I tell the truth?

"Well, I'm actually going to major in business when I go to college."

Everybody gasped. Oh god.

"Now that I think about it, is your father Randy Richardsons, the CEO of Broïsé?" A classmate asked.

I just laughed.

"He is my role model, but he is not my father. Our last name can be very similar, but no, we are not related." I lied.

"That's crazy."

"Imagine having the daughter of one of the most richest American CEO's in the same room as you."

"Isn't their family net worth a few billion?"

"Why would she attend a public school?"

"They have two daughters. One of them is named Alexa."

"Alexa goes to our school."

"The other daughter?"

"She's camera shy."

"But she's our age."

"That has to be the other daughter."

"Stop pointing fingers at her. You're making her nervous."

"No, that's the thing, that is their other daughter. It all adds up. She even looks like him! Business degree, idolizes her own dad, pretends to be quiet so that nobody notices her, that is the other daughter, come on, everybody knows who's daughter that is."

"STOP!" I scream.

And everybody looks at me.

Oh god, what did I get myself in to?