My new blog is now writingsuffz. Thank you. I now have a partner helping me with my writing so it might actually come at regular intervals. Thanks so much.
I’m sorry again. I don’t really get around to posting things. It’s been over a month since my last post. I think part of it is I don’t put much effort into finding time to write. Well I’m proud to say that I will be creating a new account that will be used more frequently and I might just have some of my friends who write stuff help out. I will post the name of my new account when I get it. So I hope you follow me to my new tumblr.
I sat on the side of the street corner looking desperately at the people who walked by. They held their heads high and stuck their noses up at the sight of me, alone on the street corner. I was in a ratty overcoat, tattered jeans, an old t-shirt, a beanie, and some old boots. All of it beaten up, disheveled, and dirty. My mop of brown hair showed grotesquely from under my beanie. I held a sign in one hand that said: Please donate. I am starving and freezing. In the other I held a tin cup with a few dollars in quarters, barely enough to buy a meal at McDonald’s.
So many people walked by and so little donated to me. I was disgusting to them. I was a junkie. They thought that if they gave me money I would spend it on adrenaline. I had no idea if that was the truth or not. Hell! I had no idea where I was. All I knew was I was in Manhattan. Those people had every right to be disgusted with me; I had spent all the money I ever had on adrenaline. I had gone from a normal teen with a good group of friends, a girlfriend, a loving family, and a promising school career to a homeless man on the side of the street hoping I could get enough money so I could get my high. It had all happened so quickly.
It started back in high school. I was hanging out with some of my friends. We were flipping through the channels and we saw the news. People had started taking adrenaline as a drug. Back then it wasn’t illegal and to a group of teenagers like us it didn’t seem bad. We all had the same thought rush through our heads “How bad could it be? I mean we already have adrenaline in our body.” How wrong we could be… Suddenly I heard a clang. I man dropped some coins and a couple dollars. I smiled and he smiled back. That minute I thought “I’m an awful person.”
Hello anyone who has looked at this blog. I apologize for my absence. I have been working on school, with a full course load and some unsatisfying teachers I have not been able to write any stories. I plan to be better, but who knows. I am currently working on a short story that I think people will like. It is about a future in which adrenaline is a drug that people inject themselves with. I am trying to stay as true to the science as I possibly can. I hope you enjoy it and tell your friends I would like to see this blog pick up some followers. If you have any feed back I would really enjoy to see where I can improve. Thank you so much.
Dean hid in the corner of the music shop. He had been ‘testing’ his favorite bands’ albums. This was his only comfort since he had run away from home and left his iPod at home. Jim didn’t know he was here, he wouldn’t have understood Dean’s need for music.
Dean played the drums and loved alternative before he ran away from home a month ago. Music had always been Dean’s safe haven but he now didn’t have any except at the music shop. Music had portrayed Dean’s problems and took them away.
Dean had just decided to head back to his house in the suburbs to get his iPod back when the shop keeper kicked him out. Dean ran to the abandoned apartment he and Jim were staying at while the saved up there money they got from their new jobs at McDonalds to get his bike.
Dean reached his old house at around 11:30. He waited until all the lights had been turned off for a half hour. He got climbed up the tree he had climbed to runaway. Once he reached the highest branch he trusted his weight to he jumped onto the roof. He climbed into his old room easily because the window was not locked.
He walked over to his desk and grabbed his iPod and charger. Once his fingers touched the iPod he flashed back. His dad yelled at him “you’re an idiot. You’ll never amount to anything, JACKASS! You’re just a useless mouth to feed!” Then Dean would slowly walk up the stairs to his room, put in his earbuds and listen to Pas de chevel. The song always made him more self-confident.
Dean snapped out of his flashback and jumped out the window with his music blasting in his earbuds. It felt as if a million pounds had been lifted off his shoulders.
His father came down on him with knuckles of brass. Jim scuttled over to the corner of the kitchen to hide from his father. His father had come home drunk again knocking his mother around so Jim tried to stop him, but he was a lanky 13 year old and his father pounded on him. Jim saw a final punch coming in through his moppy brown hair hanging slightly above his eyes.
Next thing he knew Jim was sitting straight up in a sleeping bag, sweating and panting. He took a second and realized he was in an abandoned apartment building with his friend Dean. As if on cue Dean walked in with two sodas, he tossed one to Jim and they sat in silence.
Jim thought back on the night over a week ago he and Dean ran away. They had planned it for weeks. His there bikes, took food, and saved up some money. They had rode there bikes to the highway and then walked them down the ride until they started hitch hiking. They made it to the city and found this building to crash in while they looked for jobs.So far they didn’t have any jobs, but Jim was hopeful. They had already spent their money so they resorted to doing odd jobs like washing cars or running errands for people. It was a tedious and repetitive existence, but it was their existence.
Dean threw his bag out the window. It landed with a solid thud on the ground, which made him flinch. He didn’t think that a drawstring bag with some clothes and food would make such a loud sound. He quickly checked his surroundings to see if his parents or sisters were awoken by the sound.
Dean slowly climbed out the window and slid down the roof. The tiles of his suburban house’s roof slowed his descent down until one broke. In a moment if panic Dean started picking up speed and was thrown off the edge if the roof. He tried to twist around and grab the gutter but was it was out of reach. Plummeting towards the ground Dean was panicking when he was slammed into a tree and grabbed a branch.
After the roof scare Dean made sure to carefully and decisively plan his route for climbing down the tree. When he reached the bottom he met up with his friend Jim.
They were running away from home together. They each had about 20 bucks (from assorted chores and whatnot), some more clothes and a tiny bit of food. They planned to go to the city nearby, get jobs and a place to live, and spend the rest of their lives there.
They went to the old shed in Jim’s yard and got their bikes that they had hid the other day and rode toward the city.Source: Sir-idk.tumblr.com
Here at this blog I will be posting different short stories. Some of them will be multiple posts while others will be just one post. I am going to use the constructive criticism and use it to make my stories better. After I reach a point in my writing ability I will make a new tumblr for a story through someone eyes who is writing a blog sort of like John Watson in Sherlock.