My First Problem

Chapter 2: My First Problem

Orchard was nothing short of a catastrophe; its poorly constructed roads were endlessly accompanied by liquor bottles, beer cans, and the occasional roadkill; all of its building were falling apart; homes were shotgun style of either a faded white, yellow, or red shade; no school; one unrealistically small “hospital;" one doctor rumored schizophrenic and bi-polar; lawns home to decaying plants, completely random and useless junk, and various animals scavenging for food in the night; no firefighters or police (I heard another town provided both, despite their displeasure in doing so); a town hall in a tool shed; a minuscule population; and, above all, it was the source of all my problems.

Orchard was made up of two perpendicular roads that created a four way in the center of its tiny self. It was hardly a town at all. The main street, Birch Road, cut horizontally through the center of town, and, eventually, led to another town. The other street, Willow Drive, ran vertically through town, but led to a dead end on either side. The southern dead end turned into a dirt road that traveled into the woods and stopped in front of small lake. The northern dead end twisted and turned passed one or two homes before coming to an abrupt stop in front of the town's small cemetery. It was painfully obvious where this town got its name; the town almost gave the illusion of being a forest(I guess a town named “Forest” didn't sound as pleasant.). Willow and birch trees, along with other kinds in fewer quantities, lined the sides of the roads and gave the place a sense of secrecy and abandonment. Those trees were the only beauty the town ever had.

It was amongst those tress that I first saw Lillian, and it was within those few moments of first sight that I saw something beautiful; a human conveying a love for the natural world. Lillian was painting the enormous and woeful willow that stood a few feet in front of her and her canvas. Unfortunately for her, that was the only beautiful thing I ever saw in Lillian. The rest of her was a disaster, not that anyone else was better anyway, and this led me to discovering a new hobby. I made it a personal habit to watch Lillian from afar. This always produced interesting results in many different ways depending on the situation; sometimes, she would be in the process of painting when she would suddenly become frustrated and destroy the canvas to the point of oblivion; other times, she would crawl into a corner of her driftwood-like home and drown herself in silence; and other times, she would run into the woods and find a tree to climb or delve into despair under. One time, she even took it upon herself to slice off quite a few inches off of her long and wavy brown hair, leaving a short and choppy cut , which left her to cry until her dark blue eyes where red and puffy. It was mysterious how she could be such a handful.

Although she had major emotional problems, Lillian wasn't in my way because of them. She was in my way, because of two things: she instantly forced me to rethink my own reality, and, most of all, she was a sibling-less orphan. 

Author's Note

Let me know what you guys think! :)

I loved and appreciated all the comments from chapter 1, so thank you everyone who commented! :D

Reviews

[Cricket Kidd]

good job!

[Chococat]

I love your writing style. I want to write the style you do. :)