A/N: Hiya everybody! So, this is my first fan fiction. I don't have the best grammar, so sorry about that. I only edit once before I post, so if you see any mistakes, feel free to tell me! Some places and things in this book are real, but some are not, just so you know.
What does the song on the sidebar have to do with this story? Absolutely nothing at all. i was just listening to it while i wrote this because I love it, it's fantastic, and because Ed Sheeran is a god.
Please leave comments, and vote! Thank you my little hedgehogs! (Yes, I have weird pet names :P)
(P.S. UPDATE AS OF MARCH, 2013: I'm currently posting my second story, The Cover Girls, so why don't ya check it out sometime? ;D)
(P.S. UPDATE AS OF DECEMBER, 2013: ***DISCLAIMER*** This story was not edited in the least so please, don't judge, I was young and sucked at grammar. Please ignore my grammatical errors. Thank you. Oh, and I have also changed my twitter name to @DAMMITDALTON.)
The wind blew my long dark brown, almost black hair as I walked along the seemingly never ending boardwalk. I looked out over the water-my home. I've lived on these shores since birth, and somehow I feel this connection to the water. It gives me a sense of belonging. It's a place where I'm accepted.
Where I live is Duluth, Minnesota along the north shore of Lake Superior. Expecting something more glamorous? Like California, smelling the saltwater of the Pacific? Nope. I live here. And I absolutely love it.
Some people don't understand why I like it here so much. But what isn't there to like about this place? Cool breezy summers, freezing winter covered in snow to sled on, beautiful forests drowned in wildlife. I guess the status of "Largest fresh water lake in North America" isn't enough for city goers who live on celebrity gossip, and clothing labels. I'm not bashing those kind of people, I'm just not like that. I never have been.
Ever since I was a little girl this has been my home. In a physical sense, and in an emotional sense. Of course I live here with my mom in a house, but the water is where I really belong. Not just in any water, in Lake Superior. Where I can feel free, and be myself without pretending. Sounds stupid to be basically in love with a lake, huh? Well, I couldn't care less what people think about me.
Today was fairly cold for late June. Of course, the weather here is unpredictable, which is another thing I love. If you don't like the weather you're having one day, just wait a few minutes and I bet it will be the exact opposite.
Most days I spend my time here on the beach. Or what I guess is considered a beach. Three forths of this so called 'beach' is just large black rocks that have broken up and washed up shore. Sure, there's a bit of sand at one end that is actually a pretty nice beach, but I prefer sitting on the large rocks starring out at the cool water. That is, if I'm not already swimming in it.
Swimming is my passion. Always has been, always will be. I've been swimming since I was a toddler, and it's when I feel the most like myself. Nothing can stop me when I'm swimming. Nobody, and no thing can stop me from doing what I please. I've grown accustom to the freezing water and can swim in it without getting sick. Having a strong immune system is defiantly a huge blessing. I don't know what I would do if I couldn't swim. The longest I've ever gone without swimming is about a week, and it was pure torture, trust me. I can't be me without the water. Okay, now I'm rambling.
So, back to the real reason I'm here, as in walking on the boardwalk. It's usually a ten minute walk from the beach to my apartment building. My mom and I live there, in separate apartments across the hall from each other. That may sound weird to you, but it's a pretty sweet arrangement. She bought me the apartment when our across the hall neighbors moved out about 8 months ago. She knew that since I'm 18 now I can handle myself, but still wants me close. Plus, when I'm sick or having a problem, she's right there. It's great.
Anyway, our building is getting some construction done on it, which means we had to move out for two weeks before the work was done, then we could go back to living there. My 25 year old brother, Trevor, insisted that instead of staying in the cheap motel room we planned on sharing for that time we should stay in an expensive hotel on the shore. He's a very well known herpetologist that travels around the world finding new species of reptiles or whatever. The works he's done has made him pretty wealthy. He's not rich, but he does help out with us a lot. We've always been very close, especially since...