gaslightanthem
03-01-2009, 11:24 PM
This is my first attempt at a short story. I'm not really sure how i feel about so any comments are appreciated, thanks.
Choices should be difficult. That’s what my mother always told me. I guess I understand this now, I never really had before that moment. I don’t think I ever even understood what a choice really was, or why they should be difficult. Choices to me were just a series of events that did not really matter. I would just act or choose to do something, not necessarily with a reason. She warned me of this, she told me that I take the easy way out, that I don’t understand what the choices I make will do, but in reality who does? Nobody actually knows what the outcome of their decisions are. Nobody. But does that make it right for someone just do what they feel like, without a reason? Well what is reason? Do choices need reason? I didn’t know, so I looked it up. Most of the definitions dealt with sound judgment, or the basis for why something is done. Well here is my conclusion, choices don’t need reason, but good choices do. Good choices possess reasoning, questions are asked such as, what is the outcome, who does this hurt, or just simply, why. Why would I do that, how does this help me. That’s what I should have asked myself. I guess I should get back to her, my mother. Now I am not the brightest person ever to have existed, but how is that really judged anyway? Back to the point. I was a naïve and immature kid, who did not listen to his mother. I should have listened to her advice, my choices should have been difficult, but I didn’t care, I just acted, without thought. It should have been hard for me to decide to drive away from the party hardly able to see straight. It should have been impossible for me to turn on the engine, but it wasn’t. I lacked the maturity and the reason that my mother had so desperately tried to instill in me. Well, in the end, she got through to me, but I will never forgive myself for what happened. I will never forget her face when she was pulled out of the demolished car that I blindsided. Her bloodied face was full of pain, agony, and death. But even as she was dieing, as her eyes began to fade. she saw me, and with her final breath she said to me, “Choices are difficult son, learn from this one.”
Choices should be difficult. That’s what my mother always told me. I guess I understand this now, I never really had before that moment. I don’t think I ever even understood what a choice really was, or why they should be difficult. Choices to me were just a series of events that did not really matter. I would just act or choose to do something, not necessarily with a reason. She warned me of this, she told me that I take the easy way out, that I don’t understand what the choices I make will do, but in reality who does? Nobody actually knows what the outcome of their decisions are. Nobody. But does that make it right for someone just do what they feel like, without a reason? Well what is reason? Do choices need reason? I didn’t know, so I looked it up. Most of the definitions dealt with sound judgment, or the basis for why something is done. Well here is my conclusion, choices don’t need reason, but good choices do. Good choices possess reasoning, questions are asked such as, what is the outcome, who does this hurt, or just simply, why. Why would I do that, how does this help me. That’s what I should have asked myself. I guess I should get back to her, my mother. Now I am not the brightest person ever to have existed, but how is that really judged anyway? Back to the point. I was a naïve and immature kid, who did not listen to his mother. I should have listened to her advice, my choices should have been difficult, but I didn’t care, I just acted, without thought. It should have been hard for me to decide to drive away from the party hardly able to see straight. It should have been impossible for me to turn on the engine, but it wasn’t. I lacked the maturity and the reason that my mother had so desperately tried to instill in me. Well, in the end, she got through to me, but I will never forgive myself for what happened. I will never forget her face when she was pulled out of the demolished car that I blindsided. Her bloodied face was full of pain, agony, and death. But even as she was dieing, as her eyes began to fade. she saw me, and with her final breath she said to me, “Choices are difficult son, learn from this one.”