Idea #5 - Once Upon a Rosebud.

This is a story I began writing about a year ago, but for some reason I stopped right in the middle of the story! Now that I read it again I wonder why I did. Should I keep writing this story? Read the preface and give me an honest opinion!

Remembering the days of the Big Apple was time wasted. Those days were dreadful − filled with mournful sorrow. Every day would get worse and worse. Trying to wipe those memories out of my mind like a messed up hard drive was nearly impossible.

            I can recall when my best friend passed away when I was young; we had just entered kindergarten, and yet Luella was leaving me alone in a place in which I was unfamiliar. I wasn’t very comfortable with older kids towering over my puny, short body. I wasn’t used to the building and its tremendous size. All I wanted was home, and from that September day on home was the only thing I wanted, school day after school day after school day.

            Never in the mood to try, I never did well in class and soon fell behind on grades. The days seemed just as long as the day before. Mrs. Wilkinson wasn’t much of a help; instead of encouraging me, she would remind me every day of my flaws. I never improved. I was soon sent to a dull private school where everyone was to wear uniforms. The kids tried to include me in “fun” activities, but thinking about Luella’s death made me feel like the kids didn't want me there and just felt sorry for my loss. I only shook my head when they attempted to include me, my eyes fixed on the boring playground. I’d usually slide down the big slide a few times, cross the monkey bars once, and then the rest of the time I’d sit, waiting for Luella to return. But she never did come back, so the rest of my New York life was spent sitting, never eating a thing, feeling uglier every day, lying on my bed, and sitting some more.

            In second grade I was still lonely, and I still wasn’t adjusted to the focus of the private school. I sat around all day. I never did my schoolwork. I never did my homework. I just sat with a broken heart.

            When my teachers tried to push me as best they could, I didn’t listen to their instructions. I felt as though I had issues, for I was always depressed. Days rolled by. Ma saw my horrible grades, so after a while she ordered for me to be homeschooled. I was happy that I would get to be home all day and every day, but schoolwork was still coming at me like flying jets.

            “You deserve an education, Shelly,” Ma would say when I was disobedient of the work she assigned me. I’ve always disagreed with her to this day; I deserved to be near Luella, not have to focus on numbers and letters. Would anyone ever understand?

I will post the first chapter later. Until then...

♥ Abigail ♥