Tag: dog

I wrote this a couple months ago and for back then it was really good. Hopefully you like it. Please give me feed back as I am always on the quest to get better. Also I just want to know if you like it. Ill try and use my pictures of my dog (Violet) to break it up a bit. With out further stalling here is my first short story I’ve written outside of school. I hope the captions for the pictures aren’t too distracting. 🙂

The Ride

Dear Journal, today is August 20th. The day is finally here. I’m waiting for my train right now! I can’t wait to write the whole way to Columbia University, from Portland, Oregon to New York City! The train station is very loud. Luggage is squeaking, and people are talking. I almost feel like I’m in a marketplace with people bargaining over goods. I already got my goods: tea, a book, and a brand new pen. I’m melting into my orange spice tea. There is a lot less security at the train station than at an airport, and thankfully I can bring a lot more luggage. I don’t know what I’m going to write about on the train yet, but I seriously can’t wait. I have 3 days to write, so I will keep you updated. Maybe more often than usual but who knows. Andrew, my brother, hasn’t left yet for his college, but he will next week. He doesn’t need to be there as early since he is a junior this year.

I hope I will have enough free time to keep up my writing schedule. I’ve already worked out which classes I will have. I’m giddy because I will be writing a novel over the course of the next four years. This will be a great opportunity. All of my past projects failed one way or another, unlike my friends, Lilliana and Hailey! Those two already have agents. Lilliana got one book finished and in bookstores, but Hailey still has another year left on the process. Hailey has an extra five thousand dollars for college because of her deal. Sometimes I wish I had her skill. The train is pulling up with all of the loud screeching it entails, I better get ready to board. Write soon.

Dear Journal, It’s pretty late, and I’m going to bed soon. I just met my roomate. She seemed cool. Her hair was half shaved and the tips were dyed purple. However when she walked in she asked why someone like me would get into the University’s writing college. I asked why she thought I wouldn’t, and she said because I was ‘vanilla’. She looked at my appearance and called me ‘vanilla’. ‘Vanilla’ as in I’m ordinary, and whatever I do is probably becuase of peer pressure. I totally used to be ‘vanilla’, but she has no right to judge me because of my appearance. She has no freaking right! I can look however I want. Instead of starting an argument I sucked it up and said, “I might be ‘vanilla’, but I don’t judge others based on appearance.”

She pointed to my mug. “You use NaNoWriMo. If anything is mainstream it’s using Nano instead of figuring out your own writing strategy.”

“You think I’m vanilla because of my writing strategy?” I kept my voice calm. I was just honestly asking her on the surface. The hostility was deep in me and completely buried.

“I bet you haven’t even published a book yet”

“I haven’t. Not that that was your business!” I put on my headphones, drowning her out, and ending the conversation.

I ignored her for the rest of the night. At least I got a ton of writing done.

Dear Journal, Today is August 21st. I can’t wait until I get to school. It is close, only two days away. I think I can almost feel it. Today we are going to stop for a couple of hours. Not as long as we stopped in Portland, but long enough that I could stretch my legs. I would spend all that time to get away from Gwendolyn. I learned her name today.

I might as well try to get to know Gwendolyn. She might not be as bad as she seemed. First impressions aren’t always correct. Maybe I will be proven wrong. I hope. I’ll keep you updated.

Dear Journal, here is the conversation I just had with her.

” Gwendolyn, What are you up to?” I asked leaning over my bunk bed down to hers below.

“Important stuff.” She was writing on a Macbook Air. I wanted a Macbook Air but my dad said a chromebook would essentially help me do the same thing:  writing, and procrastinating.

“Like what?” I tried to see what she was doing.

She moved a little and warned me. “Don’t look over my shoulder or else the next time I respond will be a little more than just a warning.”

“Okay….” I moved back a little. But instead of pulling back first, I lifted my head first and hit it on the light. “Oww..” It didn’t really hurt just surprised me.

“You cant even move without hurting yourself? You really need to understand you can’t just hurt the furniture.” She sighed and put in her earbuds. I can’t get anywhere with her and our relationship if she doesn’t talk to me! All I want is to be able to communicate with her. Maybe to ask if she would want some tea, or if she has any good books.

Well, signing out. I think we are stopping in ten minutes and I want to put on my shoes and be out of here ASAP.

Dear Journal, I surprised myself (and her, I think). I asked Gwendolyn if she wanted to go to a cafe with me and she said yes. We actually had some fun. I hope we can keep this friendship longer than two hours though, because when I came back into the room she had obvious body language that she was done.

Of course I asked her if she wanted some tea. She raised one eyebrow and said. “You drink tea? Are you trying to act English to make up for your lack of personality?”

“I just like tea. If you’re acting like that, fine! No tea for you!” I started a kettle of water and climbed up in my bed. Time for some reading. I can’t rant anymore especially with this hand cramp.

Dear Journal, Gwendolyn made dinner. Nice right? She became nice again. I’m getting really confused about her mood swings, but she started explaining it. Apparently, her brother is in the hospital. It was putting a lot of stress on her, and she was just dealing with it. I understand. I love my brother too. That can be really stressful. She should be dealing with it in a healthier fashion, but if she needed to take it out on me then I guess it is okay. I think she needs it. Also I’m a pushover.  

The dinner was Top Ramen. It wasn’t fancy, but it was still good. She added spinach and carrots to make it somewhat healthy. There is a restaurant on the train as well as a cafe. I got us ice cream for dessert and at least we share a love for mint and chocolate chip ice cream.

I think I’m going to call it a night. Two more full days on the train. Maybe this friendship will go somewhere. Hopefully. Future me, cross your fingers.

Dear Journal, Today is August 22nd. We have one train transfer, but we will still be roomates. Why you might ask? because it only costs a little more to book a sleeper cart with two people, and we met online to organize this.

I’ve been growing fond of this train room, the slightly cracked ceiling, the white walls, the creaky bunk beds, the really grimy window, the broken AC, the beautiful view. It’s just a nice room.

So far today my fingers have officially fluttered (writing wise). I’ve already written 5,000 words and I’ve just started. I can’t wait till I have my first book deal. My goal is to be published before I graduate college. I still wonder whether or not I want to do grad school. Hmmm… I will decide this when I’m a junior or something. Maybe at that time I will be a millionaire… well, that might be a little crazy, but one can hope. Maybe if I wish hard enough something will come true even if it isn’t a million dollars in my pocket.

Well, I will keep you updated. Write you later.

Dear Journal, sometimes I wonder if I will keep you forever, never finishing you despite how much I’ve been writing. I swear, I will write in this journal until the day I finally die or when I fill it with my day to day activities. I have a feeling I will die first. I mean I’ve been writing in you since 5th grade, and I’ve only filled a quarter of you. I’m already a quarter done with life. Saying that aloud is weird. I feel like I have a lot more time than 3/4 of my life left to live. I mean I haven’t done more than a miniscule amount of things I want to do in this life. I better go skydiving soon! Good thing this train ride marks off another one of the things on my bucket list.

I just finished settling into my room on the new train. It’s pretty cool. Not as good as the old train room because this one has a leaky ceiling. I still have top bunk and the water will fall on me while I sleep.

Writing is going great. I think I wrote about that this morning, but it still is. Also, Gwendolyn said that we should hang out all day tomorrow. I guess that would be cool but I don’t know. I wanted to get more writing done. Then again it might be nice to start school already having a friend. Even though she is cute and well, over the past day, she has been perfect. Having the best flaws and personality traits, it’s like she knows herself so well she could write a character sheet about herself. I wish I could do that about myself. Too bad I’m too hard to read for myself.

Oh, right. I wanted to make dinner, so I had better get going. I want to start up hot water. I think I’ll have Cup o’ Noodles tonight. Maybe I’ll make Gwendolyn some too.

Dear Journal,

She got pastries for dessert tonight and they are good. The paper smells a little like her. Is it weird that I’m getting a crush on her? I have a feeling I shouldn’t. But are hearts ever logical? NO!

We watched a Netflix movie together. We started at a friendly ‘I just met you’ distance but near the end I got scared and held her hand. I know, cheesy hand holding. Well I barely date  and I don’t just kiss right off the bat. I mean it’s the most I’ve done romantically in a while. I’ve been busy writing recently. I just don’t feel confident enough in my writing to do anything with it. I believe that I should keep to myself until I reach my standard of quality.

This rant has gone on long enough. I definitely feel like my fingers are going to die if I write anymore. Thank you future me for reading. Adiós!

Dear Journal, Today I’m going to spend the whole day with Gwen. I made her coffee, but she isnt awake yet. I’m going to write a little until she wakes up. You know I won’t be creepy watching her. I don’t want to be too much of a creepy stalker. You know. Only a little bit a creepy stalker. Just enough that you are considered nice, and not weird. I’m going to write a little today. I’m hoping for some tears! The climax is near, and I have the power of tension.

Bye.

Dear Journal, I’m writing this late at night. Gwen is reading right now, but I have much to tell you.Today was perfect. We stopped at a town for a couple hours and we just walked around. It was sunny and a perfect 70 degree weather. It was weird how much our relationship changed, but living with people can do really strange and weird things. Maybe this was just one of those.

We ate some popsicles and some sushi. I amused her with my horrible jokes. I let her read my last book, and she said that it was good enough to publish. I didn’t believe her of course, but it was still nice to hear.

We sat in a park for a while. The grass was slightly damp, so we just sat on our bags. She had to do some writing too. We both were in our two totally separate worlds for about an hour.

Back in our beautiful train cabin we call home, we watched some movies and played games. It was an overall enjoyable experience. After over tea and coffee I asked her about her brother. She began to cry. I hugged her for a good thirty minutes. She talked about him going into surgery on and how scared she was. She felt bad for leaving at such a crucial time but he asked her to go to school and didn’t want her to come back just for him. It pulled at her heart but she did as he asked.

I wish I could help her heal, but I understand she needs to work through it on her own. We will be parting ways early tomorrow morning. I wish we could stay together longer, but we have many classes together. Maybe I will see her again soon. I can’t wait until I can have another day like this with her. She deserves more days like these.

Well, I got a lot of writing done and maybe I will try to publish soon. Publishing will always be my dream. I just need to get to that dream. I know I will be able to find a way. New York is a pretty cool place to make that happen.

I have the perfect outfit for tomorrow. I’m going to watch a show on Broadway then write in a coffee shop. All of this after dropping my stuff off at my dream school. It really is going to be a great year.

Hey Journal, Right after I wrote the above my phone rang and here is the conversation. “Baby,” Crackled my mom’s voice. “Andrew took a turn for the worse. He wanted to call you just in case.“

“Mom?” I said. “What do you mean? I thought he was doing better.”

“No sweetie.” My mom croaked. I could hear people crying in the background. I stared at my laptop.

“Is he awake?” I willed her to say something like ‘Just Kidding!’ But I knew she would never joke about this. My eyes stung and the lump in my throat was so big I couldn’t breathe.

“Yes. Here I’ll give the phone to him.” The transition was quick.

“Hey Gwenny.”