The Book.

As many of you (might) know, yes, I am working on my Novel. It is complete (I won NaNoWriMo 2013) but I am in the process of editing, and re-writing. “Because all writing is re-writing”, as John Green would say. Anyways, I warned y’all that you would be a part of this process since I want y’alls opinions! You have a chance to read passages (NOT Chapters – so you kind of wont actually know whats going on, these are simply small previews), and vote whether you you enjoyed it or not. Thank you for being such awesome readers, and I hope y’all enjoy and participate! It means a lot seeing as how these are very intense, and private emotions put to paper in hopes to be made public. If you steal my work, I have a lovely team that will find you. 🙂 Thank you! Dont re-post or quote anything without giving credit because stealing is mean.

“Have you been taking your pills?” he stood there starring at me. I existed in silence, with no words to say because I knew that Dad already had the answer, and was just seeking out my guilty confession to confirm. “Everly, this is not a joke. You need those pills.” He said firmly. “I know!” I replied, slighting raising my voice. “You will die without those pills. You are lucky that you even get to take them instead of receiving a transplant!” he yelled. A smile formed across my face, as I began to laugh. I crunched over continuously chuckling, having no idea how else to react to such ridiculousness. I stood up, catching my breath to see Dad frowning, and he replied, “I’m serious.” I knew my actions were hurting my dad, and yet I still ran right towards them, turning away all sane possibilities. I had a friend who decided to shoot himself in high school, and when in attendance at his funeral, I got to see everything that he didn’t plan for. I saw how utterly distraught his parents were yet held themselves together. I saw how his friends spread a line of gossip through schools, and shared his pictures claiming to “love him so incredibly much.” And I felt the deep sickness walking into the funeral with his senior picture displayed at the front, him smiling when for all we know was just a pose rather than reality for him. I was hurting my father because he saw my funeral, more clearly than I did, and I stood here laughing running straight into death as my dad suddenly realized he had no control. “I’m serious too.” I replied, turning around to walk back to my room. I hurt dad, but the continuation of the numbness that covered my body prevented me from caring. -Haley Ann

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