“Melodramatics | A WordPress Story” belongs to Daina W. West and her blog.
This story was made for fun, but its rights belong to D. W. West.
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Chapter 1: College, Writing, Memories and Garth Brooks
She didn’t dare look back as she ran down the crest of the hill, barely keeping her balance.
The rolling green hillside almost seemed to taunt her, “I dare you! Slip and ruin everything!”
Grace didn’t dare slip. Her loved ones were counting on it.
Her mother, father, her sister Elizah, and even Elizah’s annoying boyfriend, Kevin. But most of all, Kent had put everything he had into keeping her safe. Keeping Grace safe…
I struggled to find words as the tip of my pen barely scratched the surface of the paper. Ink spilled from the tip, leaving a heavy blot soaking through the page.
“Shoot!” I cursed, lifting up the paper to find that the ink had started to soak into my jeans.
My jeans. I thought. My own scrapbook of memories written onto a canvas of denim.
My jeans were worn from play, work, gardening, writing, cooking— everything. I’ve owned the pants since my Sophomore year in High school, and I haven’t taken them off since… Besides taking a shower and my parents literally forcing the jeans off my legs (demanding me to change or else they wouldn’t leave the house), I’ve worn them everywhere.
My jeans sported paint stains, holes, grass stains, patches, and now some ink stains. This memory held “I have once again tried to start and finish a story (and yet again failed)”.
I’ve got to admit— in my 22-years of living on this Earth, I’ve never finished writing a book. I’ve come close with my secret agent romance-comedy book, called “Kill or Be Killed”, but never finished the last few chapters. I just couldn’t get myself to end the story, even though I definitely knew how the ending went. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t finish it— because I didn’t want to have it end like that… I’ve always had trouble killing off characters.
I looked across the room from my side of the college dorms, to see an empty bed and wall. It was lost of color and my roommate, Colleen.
With a sigh, I looked away and at my own side of the dorm. It was filled completely with keepsakes from home, Broadway shows, and Avengers Merch.
College was out and I was pretty sad that it was over, because the Creative Writing class was fun. But now that college was out (and it was my Senior year), I was probably the only college student that wasn’t packed.
Why hadn’t I packed? The boxes were just in the closet. Not too far away.
The fact wasn’t that I was lazy, but the fact that after living at the UofI dorms for 4 years, I didn’t think I should move yet again. I’ve moved dorms around 3 times, because I’ve had all creepy roommates, until I’d met Colleen. Colleen was amazing.
Closing my eyes, I moved my head to the direction of the empty bed and wall. I imagined that Colleen was silently nodding her head to country music on her purple and denim bedspread, surrounded by her “Garth Brooks” shrine.
I opened my eyes, blinking in surprise as the room was empty of any hint that Colleen Anders ever lived there.
I would miss Colleen, I would miss those Nashville binging nights, I would miss the CMA Awards, and I’d thought I’d never say this but— I’ll miss Garth Brooks, too.
Next Chapter: here
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