Start Over? More Like Game Over.

I hated this life. This life that was all so new. This new life that had just begun. This life that just so happened to be mine.

I stood on the cracked sidewalk that led all the way to my new house’s door step. It felt like my feet were immersed in freezing water since I wasn’t wearing shoes. The constant autumn breeze didn’t help much either. My shoulders were slouched, my head tilted slightly, my arms crossed over my chest, and a puzzled expression smacked onto my face. I didn’t understand much of what was going on at the moment. This house was more of a wobbly mansion that was about to tumble down like a castle built out of blocks by a toddler. This wasn’t like my parents. All of the windows were shattered with the exception of the one that had a baseball stuck right in the middle of it. I did, however, like one aspect of the exterior of my new residence. The door. It was a deep jade color that reminded me of the fresh grass back home. It was an emerald shining right in the middle of a pile of dirt.

View this story's 4 comments.