Campfire Story

Memory Lane - Drama
--This story is open for another 993 entries
--This story is open
Jan 25, 2008 08:10 PM Introduction
Matt started with:
The twists and turns in the road start to blur into each other. My thoughts turn to the memories that were made this summer, memories that will last the rest of my life. I believe the tears that some of them cause will fade with time, and I hope that the laughter that others bring will never die away.
1 2 
Feb 28, 2008 10:16 PM Entry #1
Butterfly wrote:
But it's hard to stay hopeful. The pain of the summer just might have been more than I can bear. And to make matters worse, my mother never even showed to pick me up. I now literally stand at a crossroads deciding which road to choose. It's not an issue of the whole "path less taken", at the moment I could care less about that, I just want to make sure I don't end up out here on this road alone when the sun too decides to abandon me.
Mar 06, 2008 11:23 PM Entry #2
The sun seems to be sinking at a pace, faster than I have ever remembered before. I was just about to start cursing up a storm about my mother when a horn blared behind me. I jumped fifty feet into the air. A recognizable sqweel from the car, "There you are, I have been looking all over for you." That was a lie. One of the many she had told me over the years. She was good at lying, covering up the past. Her face was caked in makeup, once again, another tactic to cover up the past. "Hello, Jane," was all I could muffle as I threw my duffle bag into the back seat. "How many times have a told you, call me mom."
Mar 27, 2008 02:22 PM Entry #3
Bluez wrote:
Probably as many times as I need to remind you that you have never been a mom in your life, and it's too late to start now! I answered her. She stared back at me in stunned silence and I felt a pang of guilt for slapping her so hard in the face, but it was true, she was married to my father but she would never be my mother. I had tried patiently telling her that the things a mother is to any child are things you can't be taught, or read about in a book because no matter who tries to explain or how hard they work at it, they never get it exactly right. Because there is only one mother to every child, no matter what else happens after that. There is no bond stronger than that, even the father isn't allowed to touch that, though he might be a good man and try to be the best he can be for her at all times, he didn't carry the child for nine months in his stomach and that's a lot of bonding. But deep down inside I had to admit that it was more than that, because the harder she tried to reel me in, get closer and try to understand my life, my world, the harder I resisted and pulled in the other direction. It had to be something I wanted to do and she would never understand that. Because SHE wanted to work it out, to fix what can't be fixed was reason enough for her. "Why are you so mean to me?" she asked with tears in her eyes. "Why can't you just let me try and be a mother?" she asked. It isn't that I want to be mean to you, but when I try to reason with you it seems that you just brush my cares aside, as if they don't matter enough to bother with them!" I told her, trying to be patient but remembering how many other times I had said the same thing.
1 2 
© 2014 WritingRoom.com, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WRITING | POETRY WRITING | CREATIVE WRITING | WRITE A BOOK | WRITING CONTESTS | WRITING TIPS