Prologue

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This is a story I started to write a year or so ago, so I thought I start it again. (Inspired by the song "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day, and the game "Oblivion")

*click, click* The sound of the part of the pen, that clicks repetitively made, as the boy next to me did as he anxiously awaited the final bell to ring. *click, click* He's now chewing on the end, as he watches the the old clock slowly tick, probably not realizing it will cause time to seem as its slower. 

RING, RING!!! The final bell of the day rang, as the class all shuffled out of the room in an unorderly fashion. High school is truly something, let me tell you. Here you are souly judged on appearance, cliques, money/parental standing, religion,  and social popularity. I am none of these things. I'm slightly skinny, with porcelain pale skin, black hair. I don't belong to a clique, and I don't fit in. I come from a mother that makes way over average, but I tend to not talk about money, because its just an object. I honestly don't wish to be liked because of my money, and I never flash it around. I am an atheist, and again, I don't fit in. 

After almost everyone left, I picked up my bag, from beside my desk, and walked out, only to be stopped by my English teacher. 

"Dravin, can we talk about the short story you turned in?" Ms. Karmin questioned. She was an older women, but kept herself looking quite nice, and overly presentable. I just nodded my head and she went on to speak. "This story may be the best a student has ever turned in! My, I have to say it really is something. May I turn it in to a contest of some sort?" She tilted her head, for some dramatic effect? 

"Uhmmm, no. I'm sorry. I don't particularly like people reading my stories. I actually debated whether I should have turned that in to you. Writing is something I like to keep to myself, and only myself." I looked down, studying the stitching of her small shows. 

"Well, that really is too bad. But, it is your choice..." She took a short pause to look at me with a small grin. "But, if you do change your mind, I always could. Well, have a good day Dravin." 

"Thanks, you too."  I walked out of the now empty class room, and made my way down the hall. Rushing out of the building, and opening the large plexi-glass doors. I felt the cool autumn breeze brush past me, as I walked down the side walk, admiring the beauty of the fallen leaves. Watching them gently float off the trees, that seem to go on for miles, past the side walk. 

After minutes of admiring the falling leaves, I arrived at my average sized house. Of course my mothers care wasn't in the driveway, because she's normally never home. She tends to work a lot, staying late at her studio. She's a writer, but in most of her other free time she spends in her studio working on new paintings. 

I unlocked the door, and walked in the house, making sure to close it behind me. I layed my bag on the kitchen table, where I ate alone nearly every night. I walked to my room changing into a more comfortable tee-shirt and jeans, and went to the corner where I kept my drawing pad. I truly loved to draw, and write too. I got that from my mom, but I didn't want to be like her. I mean, I love my mom, but if I have a child, I want to always be there, so they won't ever feel lonely. 

I walked out of my room, and walked threw the hallway, stopping to look on the table of an old photo of my father, mother, and I. When we were young we used to spend time together when dad wasn't on business trips. It's because of how much time dad spent away that my parents decided to get a divorce. Around that time mom started spending time painting when she wasn't writing novels. After awhile she decided to sell them, and bought an art studio to work. 

I wiped a stray tear from my eye, and walked away, back to the dining room. Reminiscing memories is something I shouldn't do. It always upsets me. 

I put my drawing pad in a bag, and my art supplies in with them, and began to head out again. I got on my bike and made my way to a small bridge over looking a tiny waterfall. It's my favorite place to be, especially when I'm alone. I spend hours here. If only I had my family with me to share the tranquil peace, and have a secure feeling knowing I'm loved. Instead I'll just head there by myself, like I do most days, and be alone.

Well, I hoped you liked it. I think I'm really going to enjoy writing this story. I really love the feel it has to it, and I feel like I could just write this for hours and hours. Well, hope you guys liked, I don't know when the first chapter will be up, but I hope not long! :)

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