Naomi~3A Chapter by Sydney EllenThis chapter introduces the main character, Naomi. Her past is quite interesting...
Change. Something Naomi knew too well, and not the pretty kind. Her father has been depressed for the past two years ever since her older sister, April, died of an over dose of OxyCotin.
Her mother, on the other hand, has been dealing with the loss fairly well. Yes, she has shed her fair share of tears, but nothing has changed with her behavior non the less. But no one has asked how Naomi has been dealing with it, making it seemed like no one cared. After all, she is the one who found her. As she was laying down in her bed, looking up at the ceiling, Naomi thought of the good times as if they were a distant memory. Her dad would read them to sleep, and then tuck the two sisters tightly into bed. Then the next day, he'd sometimes wake up at six o'clock in the morning just to make them their favorite breakfast before heading off to school. Chocolate chip pancakes. Her mother would just sleep in, watch television, and think about whatever the hell she thought about. It was annoying now. Things weren't the same, and they probably never will be. She hated change. With a passion, too. Naomi looked out of the window of her second story bedroom in her house, just off Irvington Avenue in the pleasant little neighborhood of Coastal Reach. "If only, if only..." she sang to an audience of herself. If only she wasn't cooped up in some depression house full of fake glee and real tears. If only it had been herself and not her superstar sister. Woah... Naomi had never thought like that before. Ever. She looked around her enviorment in curiosity. Yes, she had slept in this room almost every night of her life, but it was unknown to her. There was something, or someone, missing. The purple walls couldn't have been painted by Naomi herself, could it? And the dent in the wall? Sure, wasn't created by Naomi. The memories started flooding through her instantaneously. Bike rides. Family trips. Pranks. Sleep overs. Boys. Everything that was personal between them thrown in her face, suffocating her with memories. Naomi cried herself to sleep that night. © 2011 Sydney EllenAuthor's Note
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2 Reviews Added on July 21, 2011 Last Updated on July 21, 2011 AuthorSydney EllenIndianapolis, INAboutI'm just an aspiring writer. Creative Writing Poetry Random Diary? Maybe. more..Writing
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