Ideas: A Collection Of Writing Prompts, Prologues, And Unfinished Works

No title #1

My story started the night my supposed missing and assumed dead brother showed up on my doorstep.

Looking back It could have started when I was born, my parents have retold the story over and over about the day that I was born, when they decided to call the private midwife they hired, the surprisingly quick labor my mother went through, when I was born, when they named me, when I met my older brother, grandparents and my fathers youngest brother, Uncle Damien.

It could have started when my beloved older brother went missing.

It could have started the night the police officers came to our house and told our parents that he might be dead.

It could have started when I was almost kidnapped, passed out in an alley and woken up hours later in a hospital.

It could have started two days after that when I walked by a blood drive and smelt brownies instead of the usual weird hos[ital like smell.

It could have started the week before when I smelt chicken fingers on my walk to school when I was still ten blocks away, only to find out at lunch that we were having chicken fingers. I had brushed it of as a coincidence and went about my day.

True my story might have started at any of these times but Im starting it when he showed up at eleven oclock at night and acted as if nothing had happened. Dont worry Ill fill you on some of these stories a bit later but for now Ill start the morning before he showed upwhen the world was almost perfect, when I was normal, and when dead brothers were dead.

Two days ago

I ran down the stairs rushing into the kitchen to grab something to eat quickly before I missed the bus. Which wouldn't have been out of the ordinary I always seemed to sleep in no matter how many alarms I would set, I probably missed the bus at least two days out of the week.

Hold it. Mom said before I had the chance to escape outside, You barely ate dinner last night you must be out of your mind if you think your leaving this house without a good meal.

The day I turned fifteen was the day my parents started watching every thing I ate and drank. Before then I could skip a couple meals if I wanted to, I would try to eat but I just wasnt hungry. When I turned fifteen that wasnt good enough any more, Now I had to at least eat two whole meals a day.

I found this extremely unfair some days I just wasnt hungry and other days I ate more than the boys at my school.

Im gonna miss the bus, Ill eat at school. I promise. I told my mom grabbing a juice from the fridge.

Mom shoved a plate of food in my hands and forced me to sit and then started at me till I sighed and started to eat knowing I wasnt leaving until I finished eating.

My dad strolled into the kitchen kissing me and my mother on the forehead before heading to the coffee machine.

Ava your gonna be late for school again. You need to start waking up earlier. My dad said sternly.

Mom is force feeding me. I responded without looking at him.

You need to eat real food! You should not have to be hungry! Mom said sternly.

Your mothers right. Ill drive you to school just this once but you need to wake up earlier.

I finished eating and grabbed my backpack and ran to follow my dad out the house.

We pulled into the schools main building parking lot as the first bell rang, signaling the doors opening.

I go to a college prep high school, the school is designed like a college you have to walk to other buildings to get to your classes. The campus actually used to be an old small college until they relocated. Most of the teachers are straight out of college.