R
raindrops_on_roses24
Guest
It's the first few lines of the first chapter of the book I'm writing. Tell me what you think!
This was not happening. I was dreaming. Yes, that was it; dreaming. Any minute now, I'd wake up and everything would be back to normal. Any minute now...
The plane wavered slightly, more turbulence, I guessed, and in turn snapped me out of my desperate (not to mention rediculous) attempt to rationalize my current situation. I wasn't dreaming, that I knew for a fact, for several reasons. Reason One: A purple bruise was evident on my right forearm, a result of the fruitless pinching I'd been subjecting myself to since I boarded the plane in Sacramento.
Reason Two: I was being painfully squished against the window at my left by a frighteningly large woman in a watermelon-pink sundress, that I know my subconsious wasn't capable of coming up with on its own.
Reason Three: The parting gift my father had given me, a silver charm bracelet that had once belonged to my mother, was fastened around my wrist and made a small jingling noise to remind me of its presence whenever I moved.
I glanced down at it, and felt a lump form in my throat as I thought of Adam's expression when he'd handed it to me. It had been the first time I'd ever seen my Navy SEAL father cry, and it was pretty unsettling. The fact that he was a Navy SEAL was actually why I sat in this plane in the first place; apparently, after sixteen years, he'd finally realized that a military base wasn't the ideal place to raise his daughter. So here I was. Forcefully relocated.
This was not happening. I was dreaming. Yes, that was it; dreaming. Any minute now, I'd wake up and everything would be back to normal. Any minute now...
The plane wavered slightly, more turbulence, I guessed, and in turn snapped me out of my desperate (not to mention rediculous) attempt to rationalize my current situation. I wasn't dreaming, that I knew for a fact, for several reasons. Reason One: A purple bruise was evident on my right forearm, a result of the fruitless pinching I'd been subjecting myself to since I boarded the plane in Sacramento.
Reason Two: I was being painfully squished against the window at my left by a frighteningly large woman in a watermelon-pink sundress, that I know my subconsious wasn't capable of coming up with on its own.
Reason Three: The parting gift my father had given me, a silver charm bracelet that had once belonged to my mother, was fastened around my wrist and made a small jingling noise to remind me of its presence whenever I moved.
I glanced down at it, and felt a lump form in my throat as I thought of Adam's expression when he'd handed it to me. It had been the first time I'd ever seen my Navy SEAL father cry, and it was pretty unsettling. The fact that he was a Navy SEAL was actually why I sat in this plane in the first place; apparently, after sixteen years, he'd finally realized that a military base wasn't the ideal place to raise his daughter. So here I was. Forcefully relocated.