8Alright, my first original story on this sight. Kind of nerve racking, no? A few things before I start: This is dedicated to my best friend, Shauna, who will soon be known as TheLoveingAngel to the lot of you. And, this is partially taken from a story I originally wrote awhile ago, and also taken from an actual story my friend told me about.
On with the story!
I'm not crazy. I know I'm not.
I can't be.
Hi. My name is Shauna. Shauna Summers, that is. Welcome to the insanity that is my life.
I guess I should start by telling you about me. I'm an orphan, and I live with my bitchy older sister, Gabby, and my over-protective brother, Zak.
All my life, I've been continuously told I never had any friends, I never had any one. They're trying to convince me that it's true. It's gotten to the point of counseling.
But believe me when I tell you it's not true. It's all a lie.
Because I remember him. He was my best friend for years, Adrian. I had known him for years, since the first grade, and I remembered him like the back of my hand.
His dark brown hair, his kind green eyes, his smile that made my heart stop and my breath hitch.
He was all I had.
That's what I'm trying to tell them.
I am telling you, he's real," I insisted, tucking wisps of my dark blonde hair behind my ear.
My counselor, Leslie, sighed irritably. She looked like a toad, with beady black eyes and chin length pale brown hair. Her fat form melted into the chair, and she had a grim expression on her face.
I knew what she was thinking; she'd heard it all before.
Fine by me. Not like I care.
"Honey," she began in her faint southern accent, and I winced when she called me that. "I know you want to think that Andrew-,"
"Adrian," I snapped, correcting her mistake. She continued anyways.
"- is a real person, but only you remember this boy. Maybe he's just a figure of your imagination?"
I snorted obnoxiously at her words, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Do you really think I'd go through all this trouble just because I felt like making someone up?" I asked her, leaning forward in my seat.
"Alright, fine. If you're so positive he's real, tell me about him. How'd you two meet?" She asked skeptically, picking up her clipboard and a pen.
I felt my cruel expression soften, and I allowed a rare smile to pass my lips. I leaned back in my chair and started the story.
"It all started…"
So... a penny for your thoughts? Please, any feedback is greatly appreciated.
SS