It’s been a long time since I’ve shared a snippet of my work with everyone. As I mentioned in last week’s post Making Lemonade with Lemons: Editing Catch-Up, I want to start sharing some of my own work in my current WIPs.

Now here’s an excerpt from Not Like Everyone Else (subject to change through future edits):

Warning: profanity present in text

---

I walk into my bedroom. The room I shared with Rachel, growing up. The pink walls are still the same and the knick-knacks on the dresser resemble that of an eighth grader’s room. My sister never took any of this stuff with her when she moved out to go to New York City for some big corporate job. And when I moved out, I left it behind too. Now that I’m back, I kind of miss all of the little treasures from when we were little. The memories are a lot better than reality right now.

I dig out the shoe box I keep hidden under my bed. In it contains all the things I have left from Corey. But after everything I’ve been told, I’m no longer sure if our relationship was true.

The lying. The abuse. The possible cheating. If that’s even true. What the hell am I supposed to do? I belly flop onto my bed hoping that lying here will decide for me. As if I were that lucky.

Mom calls that dinner is ready. As much as I would rather just lay in bed, I have spent enough wasted time on Corey. No more. So what if he cheated on me? So what if he hit me? We are over now and that’s all that matters. At least I got up and walked away when I did. If not, I might have been stuck with him forever. And to hell, if I would put up with any more of that shit.

I walk into the dining room with it all set up like we have company. Mom never sets the dining room table, so this must mean something important is going on. I walk into the kitchen where Mom is standing at the stove.

“Mom, is everything ok? You never set the table.” I can’t help but worry. Ever since I moved back home she’s been acting strangely. First, she would try to kiss me goodnight. Then I woke up one night with her standing in the doorway of my room watching me sleep. This is just something else to add to the list of weird things my Mom has done.

She looks up from stirring the pot on the stove, “Ryan everything is fine. I just decided to set the table for once. A nice change of pace from the usual you know?”

“I guess. Anyway, what’s for dinner?” I can smell garlic and sauce, but other than that I am clueless about what’s actually being cooked in this kitchen.

Mom goes back to stirring whatever is in the pot on the stove. I see that the oven is on, and peek inside to see a nice lasagna becoming golden brown within. Mmmm. Yummy. I help Mom set the salad and garlic bread on the table while the lasagna sits on the counter to cool. We sit in the living room waiting for Dad to get home.

Mom and I haven’t really talked much about my moving back here even though it’s been a month already. Honestly, I like it like that. I don’t want her to know the whole truth because then she would just be angry. Usually, I try to spend as little time as ever alone with either of my parents. That way the chance of them being able to ask would be a lot smaller. But tonight didn’t seem like a night that I could just go back up to my room and wait. She did call dinner already. She must really want to talk to have called me down here early. And I willingly took the bait.

“So how have you been? Without Corey, I mean.” And the questions begin.

“I’ve been alright Mom,” I sigh.

“Are you sure? I mean you guys were together for a long time. It was three years, wasn’t it?”

“It was four years Mom.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right. I would like you to talk to me. You haven’t really been yourself since you moved back in and your father and I are worried that something is wrong with you.”

“Mom, seriously, I’m fine. There’s no reason to think otherwise. Corey and I didn’t work out. You always told me these things happen. Well, they did and now I’m back here. That’s all there is to it, ok?” I can feel a combination of anger and sadness rushing up through my body and I’m unsure which emotion is going to come out first. “I’m going to go to the bathroom, call me back down when Dad gets home,” I don’t give her a chance to answer, instead I head back up the stairs and lock myself in the bathroom.

There is only a small amount of time before I’m summoned back downstairs to attempt to enjoy dinner. Mom and Dad make conversations amongst themselves and I just sit there picking at my plate. Dad tries to make conversation with me, but I’m not feeling up to talking to anyone right now.

After the conversation with Mom, I had nothing left to say and no appetite to eat. I feel empty inside and just want to be alone to wallow in it for a while. Instead, I excuse myself from the table, clean up my plate, and go back to my room. It’s time to make some changes.

---

Stay tuned for my last new segment of the month featuring an ongoing short story that I’ll be writing throughout 2018! I’ll be using follower feedback and ideas to move the story forward each month!

I hope you enjoyed that small excerpt from Not Like Everyone Else! Let me know what you think of it in the comments below!

 

 

              Follow boundtowriting on WordPress.com