I’m not particularly in a creative writing mood today. In fact, I’m in a rather doleful mood today. When I woke up this morning, our dad told us that our grandfather had a heart attack during the night. His aortic valve had been clogged, and they had to put a stint in. Although he isn’t dead, and he is recovering,I just can’t stay away from all the what ifs. What if next time, he isn’t okay? What if next time, he’s driving one of the bakery trucks and crashes? What if there was a mistake, and the stint gets infected and he died? What if, what if, what if… I don’t think I could handle a single loss in my life, ever. This instance is particularly hard for me, too, because I was with him all weekend on a short vacation in Massachusetts. We had so much fun, and did so many great things… And now he’s in the hospital. What if some choice we- I- made this weekend led up to this? What if it’s somehow my fault?
Have you ever read the book Divergent, by Veronica Roth? How about the second one, Insurgent? Or, the newest one, Allegiant? I highly recommend the first two. Really,they are great books. I finished Allegiant today though, and let me tell you… No book ending has ever made me more ANGRY. Maybe it’s because I’ve had a hard day to begin with, but reading this book has put me in a numb, dead mood. Never has my brain reacted quite this badly to the ending of a book. Generally I can come to terms with the endings of my books, no matter how bad, but this… This was intolerable. And what’s worse is I cant even rant about it on here, because some of you might not have read it yet!
Those things aside, I have to do at least a little bit of creative writing each day, because it is November, national writing month. So. Here goes.
Jamie stepped haltingly into the room she’d left just hours before, her curly auburn hair bouncing around her cheeks and her insides twisting with fear and anxiety. Her teacher, Mr. Andrews, had asked her to come back at the end of the day. He’d said there was something important he had to show her.
“Mr. Andrew?” She called cautiously. “Um, I’m here!”
“Ah, Jamie!” Mr. Andrews stood up and strode over to her, clapping his hand on her shoulder. He met her bright green eyes eagerly with his own deep brown orbs.”Good to see you. Come, come. Sit down.” He ushered her over to the chair that sat before his desk and sat down on the edge of his desk.
“Why am I here, Mr. Andrews?” Jamie asked uneasily, shifting uncomfortably under his hungry gaze. The man blinked, shook his head, and smiled.
“We need to talk about your grades,” he replied seriously, leaning his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands in front of him. His shoulder length curly golden hair framed his tanned, attractive face. At twenty two, Mr. Andrews, aka Quinn, was the youngest teacher in the school, and by far the most attractive and fun.
“What about them?” Jamie replied wryly. “They are the highest in the school.”
“That’s what we wanted to talk to you about,” he agreed eagerly, nodding his head. “Your grades are amazing! I don’t think there’s ever been a student with such a perfect GPA before!”
“Wait!” Jamie interrupted. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“I really hoped you wouldn’t pick up on that.” Quinn sighed shaking his head slowly. “Should’ve known that you, smartest girl in the world, would.” He nodded towards the darkest corner of the room. “Take her.”
Three men wearing all black rushed from the corners and swiftly tied a sack over Jamie’s head. The chloroform cloth pressed to her face caused her to pass out before she even had time to scream.