So this story I found last year in my 'story graveyard' and fell in love with all my characters once more. It's not done, I've forgotten nearly all the plot twists, and I doubt the spelling or anything else is correct. But enjoy, tell me what you think, and if you think it deserves to live or die :)

Everyone has a story. There is always something in someone’s life that makes for good dinner conversation. Maybe you saw an alien, or maybe you went to the moon. Perhaps you can see the future or maybe even read or discover stars. That would be cool. But no, I haven’t done any of that. I’m pretty sure not a lot of seventeen year old girls can claim they have. 

My story is simply about my choice in life. To say yes, or no. I’ll start from the beginning. 

My life is humble. My mom’s, not so much. She is an amazing and famous dancer, specializing in tango and other cultural dances. One day, about nineteen years ago, she was invited to perform on a rich people’s cruise that lasted six months. Of course, she said yes. So her and her dance team went on this amazing cruise. 

While dancing, she became smitten by a handsome, rich, and not to mention, single man. That would be my father. 

They spent the whole time together, or so my aunt tells me. She was in the dance team with my mother, so this is how I get most of my information about her. 

Anyway, the moment they stepped off the boat, they were married, and I was thrown into the mix. My mother was as happy as can be with a child and a loving husband. 

But one day Dad got a call from his company, saying he had to travel away to Europe for some kind of conference. On his way there his plane disappeared, and my mother was stranded with two month old me.

Now, don’t get me wrong. We are set up pretty well, because my Dad wasn’t poor. Far from it, we are rolling in the dough. But my mom feels guilty to use the money so she settled us down in a small town in Iowa, and started teaching dance at a University and making pottery. 

I grew up humbly because of her, and I want to thank her everyday. 

My mom and I are best friends. We do everything together from Friday night old movies to Sunday morning ice cream. We got shopping together, watch the same shows, and work out our problems with one another. 

But the one thing she couldn’t help me with was that I hate school. And of course, this day has to be Monday. And I am late!

Woke up at 7:43, much to my despair. So a few layers of make-up and a new set of clothes later I was rushing out the door with my comb in hand. 

My Mom held out a bagel with strawberry topping and I grabbed it, rushing out the door. 

My P.O.S was sitting the driveway and I prayed to whatever divine power that it would start today.

“Keys, Mauve!” My mom said as she opened the door. I ran back with the bagel in my mouth and the comb brushing through my long brown hair. She kissed my forehead and handed me my keys. 

“Bye mom!” I cried, rushing off. I jumped in and rolled down my window. The car started easily and I let out a shout of joy. “I’ll be home right after school if Corny doesn’t keep me late!”  

My mom stood there in her gray sweater and waved me off on the chilly morning on September 14th. 

The school was about a ten minute drive so I threw my hairbrush on the seat and jumped right from the car after I parked. 

My first class was American Lit. and I love the teacher. So there was no being late. In a flash I had made it up the three flights of stairs, dropped my bag off at my locker, and rushed into the class room. The moment I sat the bell ran. 

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