hey loves, so Idk what brought me to this but I really just wanted to do this, basically I wrote this short story so you can read, you can comment opinions but if so you need to hide details. Why hide details? Because you can also add some writing. Nothing inappropriate thoo. Have fun
Chapter 1/Introduction Ring, Ring was the sound of Alison’s phone ringing as she drew another art piece, she looked on to the phone and rolled her eyes. “It’s mom… AGAIN” she declined and continued her work. In case you were wondering… my name is Alison Walker, I was abandoned as a child and suddenly my mom decides to come back. I was doing fine without her, after all it has been 16 years. She abandoned me when I was 5 which makes me 21. I live alone in an apartment in New York and am pursuing my dream of being an artist.
Sometimes though, I do wonder what it’d be like to have a mother, I had a father but he unfortunately passed away last year…
Time for you guys to give opinions, but mostly add on! And please remember to hide your opinions in the hide details thing. Ly guys
Until a sound vibrates through my small apartment. The ring of the doorbell. I put the phone down, giving up on the ridiculous idea to call the woman that abandoned me so easily.
My mother, in the same long brown tan coat I remember and her disgusting perfume. She stands there, looking at me, probably surprised I would even open the door. Before she even mutters a word, I slam the door without a second thought.
Honey, please let me in. There I am looking at the door in complete silence and falling with the thoughts of her still being here after all, the impeccable things she has done. Even after abandoning me.
“I-I have your father’s things…” She stutters, and the door flies open. She’s holding a big cardboard box. “There’s more in the trunk… I-I thought you might like to have them.”
“You’ve been keeping them?” I say, anger rising up in my voice.
You know how much he meant to me. Here you are 3 years later, now giving me his stuff. You know, I was actually gonna call you, and I feel like I needed to make things positive but no more. I will no longer feel like that. So I took my father’s stuff, and shut the door on my mothers face. I start looking through the box and I start crying because of all the memories that just came flowing back
The most significant article, the picture my Dad drew of me. He was always my inspiration. My fingers crawl over the first drawing he gave me. There, of course, would be hundreds more. I’m careful not to get tears on the page
But I look at the picture he Drew in it’s like the picture was talking something my father would say like honeybee you know I wanna be here one, but in order for you and me to live together in harmony with our souls, you need to go out and live your life. Which is coincidental because that’s what it said on the back of the page.
