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No Name (if you have any suggestion let me know)
{This is a very important story to me and I'd love to make it a book someday. I'm posting this here because I want to know if people will enjoy it before I go to far with it. Comment any suggestion/Name suggestion you have}
My eyes flicker open, and all I want to do is return to my dreams. My lovely, lovely dreams. Where I'm out in the meadow as a young girl, my mother French braiding my hair. Her belly was big enough you know it was a baby, my new little sister. I was about ten and I was always the ”youngest” until her. I was finally double digits but my older brother still treated me like a baby. I get it now though, being older, still thinking your younger sibling is the baby you have to help protect. Especially with the way our world works now, back then, six years ago these crazy rules wouldn't as inforced. I miss those days. I hate the way our world works now, I hate that my moms gone, I hate that my brother’s gone, I hate the fact that my dad has to work three jobs, especially with his bad leg. And I especially hate today.
I'm still laying in bed, just staring at the ceiling. Today's the day I leave my family. But not by choice, even though the wealthy’s make it a celebration. To congratulate us for turning 16 and becoming part of society. Every 16 year old has to pick a region to call their new home, but here's the catch you can't pick the region you're already in. It’s called the ”of age ceremony”, but we just call it shipping day. Because we get shipped off to the region of our choosing. The whole thing is really unfair. I mean no one really knows what the other regions are like. so letting us choose isn't them being nice, honestly, it's them being crueler than ever. Because now we're the ones choosing to leave, choosing what the rest of our lives are going to be like without knowing what's waiting for us on the other side. It is honestly one of the cruelest things they've done to us.
I just lay there, I don’t want to move but I hear the loud creaking from out my door. which means that someone’s awake. We could only afford an older house even though my dad works all day and a bit into the night. so hearing creaks and cracks are normal but after a while you start to tell the difference between the wind and a person’s foot. I stay still though, knowing I should get up and get ready but I really don’t want to move. I just want to lay here and forget about shipping day, forget all my troubles, just to lie here, and drift off to sleep and live within my dreams. I think that maybe everyone will forget about me if I don’t go, but then I remember a boy a few years ago tried to hide. it was the same year as my brother’s shipping day. we were all standing in the square when they poled the boy on to the stage and whipped him three times. Faun, my little sister was hiding her head against my shoulder. so I know that wasn’t going to work
“ I’ve been laying here for too long” is what I thought right before my door opened. I thought I was going to be my dad telling me to come downstairs for breakfast - seeing everyone’s off work on shipping day so the parents can say their last goodbyes after their 16-year-old has chosen - but it wasn’t. he’s small, a lot smaller than the other boys his age, but he’s also a lot smarter. the scrounge little boy with dark brown short hair and his dark brown eyes, it surprises everyone when we tell them...
My eyes flicker open, and all I want to do is return to my dreams. My lovely, lovely dreams. Where I'm out in the meadow as a young girl, my mother French braiding my hair. Her belly was big enough you know it was a baby, my new little sister. I was about ten and I was always the ”youngest” until her. I was finally double digits but my older brother still treated me like a baby. I get it now though, being older, still thinking your younger sibling is the baby you have to help protect. Especially with the way our world works now, back then, six years ago these crazy rules wouldn't as inforced. I miss those days. I hate the way our world works now, I hate that my moms gone, I hate that my brother’s gone, I hate the fact that my dad has to work three jobs, especially with his bad leg. And I especially hate today.
I'm still laying in bed, just staring at the ceiling. Today's the day I leave my family. But not by choice, even though the wealthy’s make it a celebration. To congratulate us for turning 16 and becoming part of society. Every 16 year old has to pick a region to call their new home, but here's the catch you can't pick the region you're already in. It’s called the ”of age ceremony”, but we just call it shipping day. Because we get shipped off to the region of our choosing. The whole thing is really unfair. I mean no one really knows what the other regions are like. so letting us choose isn't them being nice, honestly, it's them being crueler than ever. Because now we're the ones choosing to leave, choosing what the rest of our lives are going to be like without knowing what's waiting for us on the other side. It is honestly one of the cruelest things they've done to us.
I just lay there, I don’t want to move but I hear the loud creaking from out my door. which means that someone’s awake. We could only afford an older house even though my dad works all day and a bit into the night. so hearing creaks and cracks are normal but after a while you start to tell the difference between the wind and a person’s foot. I stay still though, knowing I should get up and get ready but I really don’t want to move. I just want to lay here and forget about shipping day, forget all my troubles, just to lie here, and drift off to sleep and live within my dreams. I think that maybe everyone will forget about me if I don’t go, but then I remember a boy a few years ago tried to hide. it was the same year as my brother’s shipping day. we were all standing in the square when they poled the boy on to the stage and whipped him three times. Faun, my little sister was hiding her head against my shoulder. so I know that wasn’t going to work
“ I’ve been laying here for too long” is what I thought right before my door opened. I thought I was going to be my dad telling me to come downstairs for breakfast - seeing everyone’s off work on shipping day so the parents can say their last goodbyes after their 16-year-old has chosen - but it wasn’t. he’s small, a lot smaller than the other boys his age, but he’s also a lot smarter. the scrounge little boy with dark brown short hair and his dark brown eyes, it surprises everyone when we tell them...
