Mia's summers kind of suck. The main problem is her parents' divorce, well, the custody agreement mainly. Her parents both love her so much that neither of them wanted to let her go. But neither parent loved her enough to stay in the same country. W...
Monday is pretty much the same as every other day I've spent in Italy. Mum goes to work early, doesn't come back till late, I stay at home eating junk whilst watching TV or reading, or both. I've started sleeping more and more, I'm sleeping early and waking up late, it's probably not the healthiest way of living, but it's my way for now.
I wake up on Tuesday to find four messages from an unknown number when I open my phone. I pull it off the nightstand and frown before opening them.
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"How the fuck....." I mutter to myself. I have quite a few questions, how did Elliot get my number, how did I forget my book on the plane, and why does he have it? It may be almost 10 in the morning but it is still way too early for this shit.
I put my phone back on my nightstand and pull myself out of bed. I might as well get going with my day now that I'm awake. I grab my laptop and charger off the desk and head downstairs to the living room. I turn on the AC, because the mediterranean heat is murderous this time of year, and make a piece of toast in the kitchen.
I go back to the sitting room and open up my laptop on the sofa. I should probably start studying, I don't want to fall behind before my A levels, but I don't have the energy, and I've still got a whole nine weeks of summer left until next school year.......so it can wait.
I check my emails, I scroll through all the junk mail and useless emails from various subscriptions that I signed up for years ago and have now forgotten about. Within all of this I find an email from my school, it's almost two weeks old at this point. It's an email to all of next years Year 7s about a summer writing competition. Participants have all of summer to write a short chapter story of their choosing. The top three stories will be featured in the school newspaper and the top prize winner will have their story published in a national writing journal.
I debate joining, I mean, it's not like I have anything else much better to do with my time. I'm a good writer, and it's always been something I enjoy, storywriting. But in a competition? I don't think my writing is good enough to beat my entire year.
I can imagine Andy and Claire's voices in my head,
Just go for it Mia! What's there to loose?
I want to, I really do. Fuck it, Claire and Andy's voices in my head are right, there really is nothing to loose. I'm going to do it.
I've been staring at a blank word document for what feels like hours. Typing a couple sentences, rereading them, deleting them. Rinse and repeat. And I genuinely haven't found a single thing I can write about or turn into a story. This is useless.
