Chapter 1, The Beginning

The start of it all.

16 Months Earlier

            “Jason, come here. We need to talk about something.”

Her voice had that ‘I am so much better than you’ tone to it, and I knew something was wrong. A salty taste came to my mouth as I heard my feet being pulled by my body over the floor to where my mom stood. That is if I can call her mom.

            “What is it?” the words escaped my mouth with haste, my eyes moved from the one corner of the room to the other.

“Grandmother died,” shock filled my body when I heard what she said; the rest of her sentence was blocked out, muffled sounds I couldn’t understand. I didn’t want to listen what she said, I didn’t want to go on. I fell down to my knees, and then sat on the ground. Tears filled my eyes while she still talked on and on. I began to sob, quietly inside the cover of my arms where I sat. This was a nightmare, not reality I kept on telling myself, not waking from the dream though.

“Get up, I’ll make some coffee,” there was a sadness in her voice, but the cool and calm tone she had made me wonder if she really cared.

I stood up while she walked into the kitchen, but I decided to run to my room. The walk to my bedroom had never felt so long, every footstep I took echoed through the passage, the bitter taste didn’t leave my mouth, and my eyes had a thin layer of water over it, blurring my vision. I didn’t want to go on; she was the only mom I had, the only person who cared, who saw the future with me as a bright new place full of potential. But I now only see black, a darkened world where I don’t want to live in. I feel alone.

The door burst open as I force the handle down; I almost hurt myself out of the now anger. I slammed the door shut behind me; the weight of my body took over and falling on the soft bed. This was my safe-haven from the world, my room. Posters of bands, pictures of almost nude girls and music albums littered the walls and the floor. I felt safe in the mess I created; no one could take this away from me.

 

The knock on the door was soft, and gentle.

            “You want your coffee,” my mom asked in a soft, yet calm voice.

“Get away!”

“Please can I come in?”

 “No!” I yelled for the second time on her. She ignored me, the door opened slowly and her face entered the room. In both her hands were the two coffees she made; steam raised from it, and the aroma entered my room. It calmed me down from the crying, and it took away the bitter taste in my mouth. I managed a fake smile, not knowing why I did it; I still carried forward with it. She looked away from me while I tried to look at her; she put the coffee down on the table next to me, she walked to the window. I stretched my hand out to take it, but it was too hot.

            “You know I loved her…”

“You didn’t,” I interrupted her while she stood straight and looked out of the window.

“Don’t do it. I am trying to talk to you. As I was saying, I loved her, but she wasn’t the best mother in the world. She was really hard on me and my sisters.”

“You aren’t the best mother either,” I whispered quietly.

Her face turned red, and a tear welled up in her right eye. She turned silently toward me, looked me in the eyes and then walked out of my room. She closed the door with a bang and stormed off. I started to cry again. I took the coffee and threw it hard against my door, the brown coffee dripped from the white door to the carpet. Blue shards of glass bounced of the door and laid on my floor.

 

Author's Note

This is something new to me, remember i am afrikaans and english second language! And I am only 17 years old =]... but help me please!

Reviews

[Bridgette's Ink]

Ek hou dit 'n baie!! Ek kan nie wag om meer te lees.

I think I spelled that right.

[HeIsWe]

I love it.

[((Teenage_Poet_Loser))]

thank you =D i feel more comfortable in english! and still need to learn alot more about it! where you grew up in it, i am still new to it =]...!

[- - -]

Ahhhhhhhhh I love it

[Solaris LeRouche]

You are awsome! Dont worry!

[Priscilla Sayers]

So fabulous, you put alot of emotion in that one, drawing me in. I began to feel like I was Jason... And I am a female!!!! You also gave me a connection with the mother and I could see her pain, feel it. Very good indeed! When I told you on a previous review that you could do third person yet make the reader feel that the one person account that you give each character???? Well you did it. Now apply to the story of Amanda. Play with it. Amaze me again!

[KAOlmsted]

thank you for the invite. If English is not your native tongue I wonder why you choose to write in English as opposed to whatever language you speak? It's not criticism, merely a question formed from genuine curiosity. This was actually pretty good but may I suggest if you'd like to become a published author get a better command of the language and polish up your action words. Don't say "looking" when you mean "looked", etc. Over all, though, it's pretty good. Work on your editing--it's very good practice to edit yourself. You'll see a vast improvement in your writing if you learn that skill. -kimmer