This is one of my first stories I've ever written. I haven't really bothered to name it yet (I'm still working on it), but I figured I would post it anyway. I could always use some more critique. So, post away! And, I love compliments (of course, I don't get those often considering the fact that I'm a newbie to writing.) There's more written, but I didn't feel like posting all of it.

I stared into the morning gloom. “Hey, mom” My mom was driving the car.

“Yes, honey? Don’t tell me you’re still upset.” There goes her bell voice. She always tried to sound whimsical whenever she was talking me into doing something.


“Why do I have to go to a stupid boarding school? Can’t I go to-to...? To wherever it is that you and dad are going?” My mom and dad are biologists and have been insisting on me going to some boarding school for a few years. It was one of those snobby, rich-people schools.

“It’s Madagascar, Ley. And besides, you’ll just love this school!” There she goes again with that bell voice.

I’ve seen the brochures for it, and it was nice and all, Wrapped up in the Croatan forest of North Carolina. Beautiful climate, sunny days, nice city, good people, near a beach… I just couldn’t believe my parents wanted me to go there for three years! It’ll be my 8th, 9th, and 10th grade years… three years wasted.

I realized we had gotten to the airport. I reached for the door handle, but stopped. This would be one of the last times I would see my mom. I got out of the car. I tried to sound as happy as possible, “Bye mom, love you!”

“Love you too, L-“I shut the door. I didn't know whether to be happy about getting away from my parents, or upset about it.


I strolled out of the airport, luggage in hands. It was at least 15 minutes away from East Trinity.

“Okay, so I’m supposed to be there by 5pm…” I checked my watch. It was 3. I got out the seventy dollars my mom gave me to spend on my birthday next week.

“I guess I could do some birthday shopping...” I murmured. Now all I need is a tourist map…

“Need some help?” I turned to see who the source was. It was a guy that couldn’t have been more than a year older than me. His shaggy brown hair swayed slightly in the breeze, making red tints become more apparent.