ms5801a
12-14-2010, 11:34 PM
i started an introduction for a short story, and while i was writing it i realized that i havent really thought of a concrete plot yet. i dont really write stories often, so i just wanted some feedback on the introduction. and maybe some ideas on where to take the rest of the story.
thanks.
Dying at 20 is ****. It’s not about hearing all the parents, aunts, and teachers talk about my potential, how I was so smart, I was just going places and all that. The worst part is the fact that that everyone thinks you were ****ed up when it happened. Every time I got a new facebook group invite or whatever with a RIP in the title, I just figured the vikes got to him. Maybe it was the coke, or the Xanax or whatever. If you were a teen who just liked to get high, you probably just overdosed.
**** that. That’s not true at all. It was just me in this car. I was just trying to drive home from school, and it was 4 in the morning, and the guy in the other car got sleepy on the wheel. Nobody was ****ed up. I mean it was ****ed up to be driving and sleeping, but besides that nobody took anything. Now I’m sitting in a coffin staring out at my mom and dad crying. God this is awkward. The scientist found THC in me, and that’s why mom and dad are extra mad. Like weed could kill anyone. Is it bad that that’s the part that makes me feel the worst? The fact that my parents found out that I like to get high? I worked so hard to keep them from that, I always had the towel under the door, I kept the bud deep down my underwear drawer. I kept my GPA at school up, and I made sure to get that internship. Nobody in the family would’ve guessed how I loved to get high. And I almost would’ve gotten away with it, except for that bastard that ran me off the road.
thanks.
Dying at 20 is ****. It’s not about hearing all the parents, aunts, and teachers talk about my potential, how I was so smart, I was just going places and all that. The worst part is the fact that that everyone thinks you were ****ed up when it happened. Every time I got a new facebook group invite or whatever with a RIP in the title, I just figured the vikes got to him. Maybe it was the coke, or the Xanax or whatever. If you were a teen who just liked to get high, you probably just overdosed.
**** that. That’s not true at all. It was just me in this car. I was just trying to drive home from school, and it was 4 in the morning, and the guy in the other car got sleepy on the wheel. Nobody was ****ed up. I mean it was ****ed up to be driving and sleeping, but besides that nobody took anything. Now I’m sitting in a coffin staring out at my mom and dad crying. God this is awkward. The scientist found THC in me, and that’s why mom and dad are extra mad. Like weed could kill anyone. Is it bad that that’s the part that makes me feel the worst? The fact that my parents found out that I like to get high? I worked so hard to keep them from that, I always had the towel under the door, I kept the bud deep down my underwear drawer. I kept my GPA at school up, and I made sure to get that internship. Nobody in the family would’ve guessed how I loved to get high. And I almost would’ve gotten away with it, except for that bastard that ran me off the road.