Speaking of changes, when I was a little kid I would write stories all the time. People would tell me I was good, but I never really believed it. In high school I got involved with the marching band, which completely took over my life. I'd try to write whenever I had the time, but I was never satisfied with my stories, and the urge to write came less and less often, until I just stopped. Every so often I would open a word document on my computer with the plan to write whatever awesome adventure was unwinding in my mind. The adventure would never make it to the screen though.
Recently I have regained my passion for writing. I have found that my best ideas come to me late at night, and on the nights that I am to wired to sleep I grab my trusty laptop and start giving life to my grand imagination. Two nights ago I was home alone, and feeling a little sorry for myself, (long day at work, and unwanted conversations, nothing to worry about though). It was almost one in the morning, and my mind would just not let me rest. I had work the next morning, so I definitely needed to go to bed, but my mind just wouldn't let me. Finally I turned to my laptop to see if the internet could put me to sleep. Facebook and Twitter failed me, and I didn't really want to go searching for any other websites, so I turned on some music and opened a word document. Little did I know that I was about to write what I think is the most powerful opening for a story that I have ever written. I don't know if i'll continue on with it, but I want people to read it, so I figured why not post it on here? So if you want to read it, then check it out!
“John, are you there”……..
The voice slowly fades away into the darkness surrounding me. I don’t know where I am anymore, but then again I don’t think I’ve ever known. My whole life I have felt like there has been a part of me missing. Now laying here on this rain soaked, blood splattered (My blood?), cobblestone road, I think I may have finally found it. The darkness is so comforting, supplying answers to all of the questions I have ever had. I feel like I should embrace it, while a part of me clings to that voice, that question: “John, are you there?”
Suddenly a large blue, crackling, light tears the darkness apart. Instead of being wrapped in a comforting darkness I am thrust into a reality where I am gasping, screaming, and essentially bleeding to death. I long to return to the darkness, but there is a face looking down at me, a face warped with emotion. Rain soaked golden hair frames the face, and even though her makeup is running, and she looks scared half to death, she is still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my life. At that moment, nothing could drag me back to the darkness. I have something to cling to, a reason to stay, a woman to love!