An excerpt from my new story, "Teenage Struggles".
"This will be hard news. It's alright to cry if you feel like it. Your mom-mom died. She loved you both very much," Mom told me and Aly. It took several minutes for the news to sink in. When it did, Aly started crying. I didn't do anything but sit on the couch. The trophy against my body.
"Brooklyn?" Mom asked. "Are you okay?" I nodded and smiled.
"Yeah," I said. "I'm fine. I'm just going to go up to my room for a bit. Lay down and read maybe." Mom nodded. I didn't walk up the steps. I didn't run.
I sprinted up the fourteen steps in my house.
I slammed the door shut. I had my back against the door and sobbed quietly. I slowly slid down the door of my room and curled into a ball.
I stayed like that for hours that day. I only came out when my mother knocked on the door and told me we were going out to dinner. Since then, I wasn't really a normal girl. Even when we had the memorial for her on her birthday. While my older cousins and younger sister went into my aunt's pool, I stayed inside and watched the slide show. There was a picture of me and her at my second grade communion. When I saw that for the first time, I burst into tears.
For the next two years, I went through a lot. I became anorexic. I almost became bulimic. I felt like no one really loved me. I didn't eat for days after her death. That's when I started writing. In 6th grade, I started out writing Hunger Games fanfiction. I fell in love with the idea of sharing my story.
So, here it is. My story.
We start on June 7th, 2016, six o'clock in the morning.
Last day of grade school.