Status: slow writer and chapters are not pre-written
Inheritance
Packing
I tried my best to forget what I had seen. I mean who’s ever heard of seeing someone else’s future? At least any sane people don’t. There are those phonies though that claim to be in touch with the “other side” when they’re really just stealing money from gullible idiots.
I already had all my belongings packed into my suitcase because I had suspected that they were going to ship me off somewhere. It was just an unexpected bonus that that place happened to be a mansion in Hawaii.
I walked through the house one last time. We hadn’t lived here very long and it didn’t hold many memories for me. I wouldn’t be to torn up about leaving it. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been uprooted. More memories were in the paintings that both my parents had created. They were hung on the walls. My parents might have been military but they loved their art. I looked at them and it was almost like they were still here.
peacock
feather
flower
girl with geese
girl with book
I was always a one of the favorite subjects for the paintings. As I carefully took the paintings off the wall I cried softly. What would it be like to live without my parents? They had always been the one constant in my life through all the chaos. Sure, I had known that them being military there was a good chance they were going to die but I guess the fact never really registered with me.
I placed the paintings in the front hall with a note on them to be shipped sparing no expense. I’m willing to empty out my bank account to keep these paintings safe. I went back into my parents studio to get there sketch books. I’d never really looked at either of my parents sketchbooks. I’m not sure why. I packed them into a special compartment in my suitcase tenderly. I didn’t look at them now even after their death.
I quickly finished packing the rest of my sparse belongings and sat on the front porch waiting for the social worker to pick me up. It all suddenly feels like too much. I break down and let it all out. The tears are streaming from my eyes when i see headlights. That doesn't look like the social worker's car?
I already had all my belongings packed into my suitcase because I had suspected that they were going to ship me off somewhere. It was just an unexpected bonus that that place happened to be a mansion in Hawaii.
I walked through the house one last time. We hadn’t lived here very long and it didn’t hold many memories for me. I wouldn’t be to torn up about leaving it. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been uprooted. More memories were in the paintings that both my parents had created. They were hung on the walls. My parents might have been military but they loved their art. I looked at them and it was almost like they were still here.
peacock
feather
flower
girl with geese
girl with book
I was always a one of the favorite subjects for the paintings. As I carefully took the paintings off the wall I cried softly. What would it be like to live without my parents? They had always been the one constant in my life through all the chaos. Sure, I had known that them being military there was a good chance they were going to die but I guess the fact never really registered with me.
I placed the paintings in the front hall with a note on them to be shipped sparing no expense. I’m willing to empty out my bank account to keep these paintings safe. I went back into my parents studio to get there sketch books. I’d never really looked at either of my parents sketchbooks. I’m not sure why. I packed them into a special compartment in my suitcase tenderly. I didn’t look at them now even after their death.
I quickly finished packing the rest of my sparse belongings and sat on the front porch waiting for the social worker to pick me up. It all suddenly feels like too much. I break down and let it all out. The tears are streaming from my eyes when i see headlights. That doesn't look like the social worker's car?
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i don't own any of the pictures used in my stories.thanks for reading, comment :)