I wrote this when I was 15 years old. Please be kind.
Chapter One: The Beginning
I felt the bullet piercing into my lung, draining of air, and filling with blood. It suddenly became impossible to breathe, and my desperate attempts were just making my death come faster. My fall to the concrete suddenly became slow-motion, every aspect of my life coming into a hard focus. I couldn't believe I'd wasted it like that. If I could just have one more day...
I woke up, immediately feeling the crick in my neck I felt every morning. I glanced over at the clock and registered in my head that it was 8:45 am, so I had two hours before I had to be at school. The sun was shining bright in my eyes, and I shielded it as best I could from my face while I lazily got out of bed, and dragged my feet across the wood floor to get ready.
After I threw on my clothes, I went to sit at my vanity, preparing to do my hair and makeup. I grabbed my straightening iron, and ran it through my black hair, perfectly ironing out the waves in it. Then, with my makeup, I lined my blue eyes with brown and made them pop, brushed some blush and bronzer on my cheeks, paying special attention to the apples so I make my washed-out pale skin get a nice glow. I finished in about 10 minutes and opened the door to my room.
My dog, Mr. Meowsir demanded his daily meal from me as soon as he saw me. I bent down and gave him a soft pat on the head.
"Aw, Mr. Meowsir, are you hungry my little runt dog?" I said very sweetly, as if my dog had any idea what I'm saying.
I strolled over to the kitchen and spot my mother sitting at the table, drinking her coffee.
"Hey mom, how'd you sleep?" I asked, eyed her carefully, looking for any signs of change. She looked really beautiful, the sun hit her head, and highlighted every strand of her red hair, the red made her green eyes glow like stop lights.
"Like a baby," she said wistfully, but the bags under her eyes told me otherwise. "Say, do you mind getting that dog his food? I'm afraid I'll have to send him training if he scratches another one of my cabinets."
I frowned as I reached up to open the pantry, grabbing the dog food can, popping the cap open, and pouring it into my dog’s bowl. Wow, my mom could be so annoying sometimes; with that raspy voice of hers, a French accent accentuating every vowel.
Mr. Meowsir seemed delighted to get his dry dog food. I watch him eat it, reminiscing about that day so many years ago.
It was my seventh birthday; my mother threw me a party, inviting almost the whole city. My birthday present was my dog, my parents deciding it would be nice to get me one, and add a bag of dog food as an extra. Brent and I thought it was some special treat, so he grabbed a handful and handed it to me and I ate it, and I loved every second.
I sighed longingly, my eyes immediately starting to sting, but I kept my eyes open to dry out the tears that were threatening to overflow.
I looked over to my mom, and I saw that she hadn't noticed my tears. Why would she? It's not like they happened on that day anyway.
Opening the refrigerator, and I became aware of the fact that we have no milk – a fact that I already knew, as it was the same as the day before.
"Mom, no milk?" I ask lightly.
"Oh I'm sorry sweetie I used it all yesterday, making the Flan you like so much for your birthday tonight."
I nodded dubiously, already knowing what was coming next.