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 |   Contains my entries for all things endurance on WDC |
Home to my entries for endurance challenges.  ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
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| Write a background story about Minor #1. “Officer! She stole a candy bar. She has it in her bra right now1 Why would I make this up?” I glared at the shop owner and then turned to the innocent police officer who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when I got chased onto the sidewalk. “Sir, I have no idea what this man is talking about. I went into his shop and bought a side, but I have the receipt for that.” I took the crumpled receipt from my coat pocket as evidence. The officer waved his hand at me in utter annoyance. “Are you saying that you saw this young lady stealing a candy bar? Are you sure about that?” “Yes!” the irate owner screamed at the top of his lungs, looking like a madman in the middle of the streets. I turned my hands upward incredulously and began emptying my pockets. “You are clearly mixing me up with someone else. I have a pair of gloves, my wallet, and my bus pass. That’s it!” The officer turned back to the store owner in confusion. “She’s lying! That little bitch is lying! It’s in her bra. I saw her put it in there and walk right out.” The officer rose his hand to the owner, hand on the gun at his waist. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to calm down and take a step back. Do you have cameras in your shop?” The owner threw his hands up then, exasperated as hell and sighed loudly. “Why should I have to pay for cameras in my shop just so these little thieves can’t get away with stealing merchandise?” The cop was definitely leaning toward my side with this bit of information. No proof means no crime. This was my chance. “Excuse me, sir, but this is wildly inappropriate. You are clearly just trying to get me to take my bra off, you sick bastard. I bet you do this to all the pretty girls who come into your shop, don’t you?” His face grew as red as the fire hydrant rusting next to him and he began sputtering some sort of excuse. “Okay, okay. Please head back to your shop. Are you catching the next bus?” the policeman asked me. “Why yes, I am.” “Okay then, head over to the bench.” He pointed at the shop owner. “You head back inside. Do not communicate with each other any further or someone will be arrested.” I smiled appreciatively at the police officer as I sauntered over to the bus bench and took my seat. The grumbling store owner slammed his way back through the glass door behind me. I felt the cop lingering between us for a few moments before going on with his day. As soon as I knew he was out of range, I stood and walked back over to the glass window where the shop owner was ringing out a customer. He caught me in his peripheral and jerked his head in my direction. I reached down into my v-neck blouse and pulled out the sixty-nine cent candy bar. His eyes widened with shock and I saw his mouth form the words “I knew it” as he pointed through the glass at me. I opened up the wrapper and took a big bite as he watched on in horror. Seeing the expression on his face cracked me up. I threw my head back with laughter and flipped the owner off before turning on one foot and crossing the street in the opposite direction. Yum, Snickers. |
 Required: Minor #1 Profile ▼Complete a character profile of any additional protagonist, antagonist, or minor character, whom we will call Minor #1. Add the profile to your character database (if applicable.) Basic Information Name: Margot DeWitt Gender: female Age: 24 More Information Nationality: American Time Period: Present Occupation: None Place of Residence: Lives with her grandmother and father Education: High school graduate/some college Hobbies: Playing piano, going for walks, art Interests: Like pets, music, and art Dislikes: Loud people, therapists, and hospitals Fears: Being put in another mental hospital Horoscope Sign: Cancer Strengths: Determined, compassionate, loyal Weaknesses: Insecure, manipulative, clingy, doesn’t trust anyone Most Compatible: Taurus, Virgo, Scorpio, Pisces Least Compatible: Aries, Libra Lucky Colour: Blue Lucky Number: 9 Best Location: Home Birthstone Modern: Moonstone Traditional: Cat’s Eye Mystical: Aventurine Family Father: Lives with her and her grandmother, works at a law firm Mother: Deceased Siblings: None Pets: None Aunts/Uncles/Cousins: None Grandparents: Grandfather is deceased. Lives with grandmother who is retired. Relationships Family: Has a quiet, sterile relationship with family. Grandmother is elderly and kind, but doesn’t relate well. Father is always at work or in his office working more. Friends: Doesn’t have a lot of friends. Moved a few times growing up and never kept in contact. Animals: Likes animals and had pets as a child, but doesn’t have any now Romantic Interests: Single Strangers: Gets along well with just about everyone she meets. Is somewhat reserved, but talkative when necessary. Can hold a conversation. Physical Appearance Eye Colour: Ice blue Facial Features: Small, slightly upturned nose. Rose-colored lips. Blushes easily. Freckles across cheek. Hair Colour: Bright red Hair Type: Wavy, thick Hair Style: Long Skin Type: Very fair, pale Build: Short, thin Dress: Wears sundresses, sandals Character Traits: Friendly, hopelessly romantic, generally clever and thoughtful. Negative character traits… unapologetic, stubborn, clingy and overly emotional, and mistrusting Motives: She wants to find out what happened to her mother. She doesn’t believe that her mother would commit suicide and she doesn’t trust therapists or institutions of any sort. Goals: Her goal is to get Evan (MC) on her side because she believes there has been foul play involved with their mothers’ deaths. She wants to find the truth and get revenge if necessary. Important Aspects of Their Life: She has recently been released from a stint in a mental institution and is back living at her father’s house while she waits to see what is next in her life, but instead of being able to move on, she finds herself stuck on the past. Background Information: Her mother was seeing Dr. Albright for depression issues and a prescription drug problem that she had developed over the course of being a housewife and mother. When Margot was 16, her mother committed suicide and Margot’s life flew completely off the rails. She hasn’t been able to get on track since. Bonus: Minor #1 Voice ▼Have your character introduce themselves to us in first person using their own voice. Brainstorm ways to make their voice unique. Add the introduction to your character database (if applicable.) You know, life isn’t as complicated as people make it out to be. They’re all too afraid of what they’ll see when they open their eyes, so they just blindly feel for the person in front of them and move through life like a product line. My name is Margot, and I swear I’m not crazy. Don’t listen to what they’ve told you about me. The doctors aren’t always right, you know. Trust me. Whatever it says in my chart is all bullshit; lies that the doctors have come up with to keep a chain around my ankle. When my mother ‘committed suicide’, I knew it was a crock of shit right away. There is no way that woman would’ve had the balls to hang herself in the middle of our front door foyer. Just like that for me to find first thing after school? I don’t think so. Dr. Albright says all the right things at all the right times. He’ll tell you all about me, the 24 year-old redhead who’s just about lost every last screw in her damn mind. Don’t listen to his lies. He will only be on your side as long as you’re serving his purpose. After that? Well, you’re as good as a padded cell. You do believe me, don’t you? |
| Required: Freestyle Brainstorm ▼ Spend at least fifteen minutes writing whatever ideas come to you about your plot, characters and setting. Meeting Margot: Tendrils of fire rose like a heat wave dancing above pavement, devouring the morbid day as they crossed themselves, hands dancing across their chests. And she, ghost pale amidst a sea of black. First it was the funeral, then it was the university library. I wouldn't have thought much of it, but now, there she walked in her quiet, unassuming way out of our lobby. Like a gift from the gods, I was presented with the perfect opportunity. "Oh no, Evan, that girl left her credit card here. Can you hurry and run it out before she leaves? Hurry!" Ms. Sokolov and I weren't on the best terms. First of all, she insisted that she be called Ms. Sokolov rather than Marina. Well, I guess that about covers it. Still, I snatched the golden card from her in about a tenth of a second flat. I'll admit, I looked at the name as I pushed open the double-wide glass doors, but you would have too. Margot J. DeWitt I felt bad then about checking her credit card once I got out to the parking lot and saw her walking so oblivious toward a beat-up old VW Bug. "It was my grandparent's," she says. "Huh?" "The car," It's a '68. It was my grandparents." "Oh, I wasn't..." I start to say and then remember why I'm there in first place. "You left this." She eyes the shiny card in my hand before reaching for it. "I have a bad habit of leaving things where they don't belong." Her green eyes glisten with the last three words. "Anyway, thanks." She turns to get into her car and I realize I'm blowing the one chance I have to talk to her. "Um, I'm Evan," I say abruptly and far too loudly. She continues to climb into her car and starts the engine, then leaning out the window she smiles sweetly and says, "I'm Margot, but you know that already, don't you?" With what I swear is a wink, she flips the gear stick into drive and speeds off, the engine clunking all the way to the main road. Well, at least I met her, I console myself as I head back inside to finish my shift. Bonus: Extended Brainstorm ▼Add at least fifteen additional minutes to your freestyle brainstorming time. The Disappearance: I had searched every aisle on every floor of the library time and time again. I waited behind Ms. Sokolov's reception desk waiting to get a glimpse of Margot's red hair. I had even started visiting my mother's grave every Sunday, as bad as it sounds, just in the hopes that she would be their visiting her lost love one, whoever that might have been. Shannon was at his wits end with my perpetual pacing of the floor to ceiling windows in our loft apartment. "Maybe she's sick," he suggested for the millionth time. "She's not," I replied, not slowing my walk. "How do you know?" I stopped and turned to face him. "No one is sick for this long. I mean, unless she's deathly ill or something. Do you think I should call the hospitals? I'll take the ones on the Southside. You take the North." Shannon waved his hands, cutting me off. "Whoa, whoa. Slow down. You don't even really know this girl, do you?" "Yes! I told you about her like a million times. You just weren't listening or something." He shook his head. "I remember you mentioning this girl, but you don't actually know her. You don't even have a phone number for her? I mean, how well could you honestly know her?" Just then, an idea creeped its way into my head. "Ah, good idea!" "Huh?" Shannon replied, flatly. "She goes to Dr. Albright's office. She has to have a chart there or something, right?" He shook his head and laughed. "Not a good idea?" I asked. He stood up, slapping his hands against his legs. "Nah, man, it's brilliant. Let's go." Dust collected on shelves of mahogany, spider web weaving their way through my emptiness. |
| Required: Contest Round 2: Antagonist Background Story ▼ Write a story about your antagonist that takes place outside of your novel. The object of the contest is to make your judges understand and empathize with the antagonist's motivations. If your antagonist is a situation rather than a person, write a background story about that. I stared at the rainwater trickling up and down the metal aisles with each press of the gas and brake pedals. The city bus is not a place to meet other people, but it's the perfect place to people watch, and I do it often. Making as much money as I do seems like the first step in never having to ride public transit again, but I don't mind it much. It's nice to see the way people interact with each other... or don't. On occasion I'll see something interesting like a public breakup or a woman going into labor. Those days are fun, but I also like this, just watching people attempt to turn to statue as they wait patiently in dull silence for their stop to come up. People always think I'm analyzing them, and I guess in my own way, I am. Being a psychiatrist has it's flaws though. Sometimes I think people assume that I can tell their deepest darkest secrets just by looking in their eyes. I can't, by the way. My mind is always reeling, sure, but it isn't in a judgmental way. It's sort of like watching a nature show on the Discovery channel. Sometimes I'll even do the monotone narration in my head, describing the relationships between men and women. "The college frat boy turns his hat backwards in rebellion as his large-breasted girlfriend berates him. This is the aftermath of a mating ritual performed some time ago." Mostly, I just hope for something, I mean anything, that will make this all connect. The dots are all there, but they never quite line up well enough to form a picture, do they? Someday though, right here in this cracked vinyl seat, I'm going to line them up just right. I'm going to connect them with the tips of my weathered fingers and it will all make sense. |
| Required: Antagonist Profile ▼ Complete a character profile of your antagonist (your "bad guy" - the character creating conflict for your protagonist.) If your antagonist is a situation rather than a person, write about what it is and how it will create the narrative conflict. 1. Name: Joseph Albright 2. Age: 49 3. General physical description: Tall, average weight, black hair that is greying out 4. Hometown: From Bridgeport, Connecticut originally 5. Type of home/ neighborhood: Huge antique, Victorian style home 6. Relationship status: Single 7. Current family: Isn't close to family, they live back east. Has some colleague friends and family that visit. 8. Family background (parents, previous marriages, etc.): Was married at a young age, but is divorced now. Mother is passed, father is alive and lives back home. Has an older sister. Had a child who passed away. 9. Friends: Keeps people at a distance, but has some friends who come over for dinner or go out for dinner. Professional friends who discuss work. 10. Other close relationships: 11. Relationship with men: 12. Relationship with women: 13. Job: Works as a psychiatrist 14. Dress style: Typically wears suits or business casual dress at the very least 15. Religion: Atheist 16. Attitude to religion: Does not like religion, believes that it gives people an excuse to do bad things or to not make positive changes 17. Favorite pastimes: Visiting family and friends back east, researching alongside others in his field 18. Hobbies: Crosswords, reading mystery novels, painting 19. Favorite sports: None 20. Favorite foods: Anything Italian 21. Strongest positive personality trait: Intelligent 22. Strongest negative personality trait: Egotistical 23. Sense of humor: Not much of a sense of humor, dry at best 24. Temper: Quick to lose it 25. Consideration for others: Understands others and their motives well 26. How other people see him/her: They see him as intimidating and smart 27. Opinion of him/herself: Thinks he is smart, collected, and in control 28. Other traits, especially those to be brought out in story: Manipulative 29. Ambitions: He has met most of his ambitions, but would like to travel more 30. Philosophy of life: Thinks people should always be improving 31. Most important thing to know about this character: He is smart and in control of his emotions 32. Will readers like or dislike this character, and why? Hopefully he will be complex enough that it will change throughout the story Bonus: Antagonist Voice ▼Have your antagonist introduce themselves to us in first person using their own voice. Brainstorm ways to make their voice unique. If your antagonist is a situation rather than a person, attempt to personify it and give it an explanation for interfering with your protagonist. There's not much you need to know about me, I don't suppose, or not much you could even if you tried. I'm not one to attempt to explain myself, nor do I feel it necessary to do so. Plus, I'm the one who analyzes around here. Why don't you take a seat and tell me all about the most traumatic event of your childhood? My colleagues and I choose not to describe ourselves in one paragraph. You never know a person until you really know a person, and that takes time. Enjoy getting to know me. |
| ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** 12 Days, 6 hours, 38 minutes. Darren had all but given up on ever being found. Nearly two weeks after his personal plane had crashed in the mountains, he was desperate for any sign of human life. His makeshift spear had served him well, but he knew he would have to leave the safety of water in order to find help. He had walked for miles in one direction, days on end camping in a bed of weeds, and still, no sign of life. Over the mountains, he thought, might be his best hope for survival, but dark clouds rumbled low in the sky, promising rough, slick terrain for the venture. He thought of his wife back home, belly swollen with their second child, a boy this time, he had been assured. He thought of her standing at the bay window, cupping her stomach like a sad portrait as the rain drops begin to fall heavy and cold. It would take all his strength, but what choice did he have? Darren stood, staring at the river, wondering the best way to cross it. He wasn’t a great swimmer and the waters were rough. Just as he began to wade into the cold, murky water, he heard a sound above. He could have identified it anywhere. It was a plane, and it was close. He looked up to see a plane about the size of his own. It was banking like mad as lightning flashed and blinded Darren. The sound grew louder until it was deafening, wind making waves of the water as Darren was pushed further into the water. Around him, he heard metal crunching and the roar of the plane’s engine. The last thing he felt was a heat that overcame his skin like a rash from his feet up. Apparently, lightning can strike the same place twice. |
| Required: Character List ▼ AKA Dramatis Personae. Draft a list of your characters and write a brief profile on each one (name, age, occupation or relation to main character(s) and rough physical description.) NOTE: You will have opportunities to revise the list throughout October, so this revision is not expected to be fully accurate or complete. Character: Evan Riley- Main character. 22 years old. Medical transcriptionist. Average height, green eyes, light brown hair, lean. Character: Shannon Fitzgerald- Best friend of main character. 22 years old. Works as a waiter. Tall, average build. Dark hair, buzz cut. Brown eyes. Character: Margot DeWitt- Meets character in the story and changes direction of his life. 24 years old. Short, petite. Curly red hair, blue eyes, freckles. Character: Dr. Joseph Albright- Therapist of Margot, Evan and former therapist of their mothers. Greying black hair, business style. Stern looking, 50-ish years old. Character: Taylor Soto- Roommate of Shannon and Evan. Have Japanese-half American. Black hair, skinny, glasses. 23 years old. |
| Required: Market Definition ▼ Describe your target audience. Identify a demographic profile including gender, race, age, disabilities, mobility, home ownership, employment status, education, income level, marital status, location and other commonly evaluated data. Explain in detail what aspects of your novel will appeal to this particular audience and why. I haven't decided my exact target audience yet. If I go more toward the YA thing, I'd probably target the new adult demographic, which is 18 to 30 years old. That seems like the most likely age bracket for my book as I've outlined so far. There might be changes made that will affect the age range though. Um, I'm honestly not sure about a lot of this stuff. Race? Any race. Gender? Any gender probably. Even though my main character is a male, he's not a macho dude because I can't imagine ever being able to write a macho guy. Most of the characters in my book are in college, so I'm assuming the target demographic would be college students, who are typically fairly poor or low middle class, unless their parents are paying for their schooling... which isn't happening with any of the characters in my book. I think that people like to read about characters who are like them, except more interesting. I mean, they want to relate on some level, but they don't want to be exploring the mysteries behind their mother's death the way my characters are in this story. People in the new adult age range who are in school and working will be able to relate to some of the everyday struggles that the main characters go through. It's super tough to balance everything you need to try to balance when you're a new adult and trying to come to terms with 'the way life is' or whatever. My main character is 22, so the perfect age for new realizations and life-altering decisions. Narrative Voice Synopsis: Write a synopsis of your novel using the same narrative voice you will use to tell the story. I would say I'd never met anyone like Margot DeWitt, but that would be a lie. Everything about her reminded me of someone else, but I just couldn't pinpoint who. That was until the day she went missing. The day she simply vanished from every place I typically saw her. After impassioned plea to delve into the secrets of our connected past, after I cursed her intrusive ways... Would I ever get another chance to right the wrongs of my past, or would it all disappear into thin air? |
| Required: Freestyle Brainstorm ▼ Spend at least fifteen minutes writing whatever ideas come to you about your plot, characters and setting. Past= Evan Riley- main character, Dr. Albright met Evan Riley’s mother after her husband and daughter were killed in a car accident. Grief therapy. Eliza Riley- name. Evan was 9 when it happened. Sister- 13. Name- Anna Riley. Was on her way home from cheerleading tournament with father, Nolan Riley. Hit by semi driver. Father was firefighter. Spent two full days a week at the fire station. Eliza worked as elementary school teacher. Death difficult to handle, became depressed and was given medication. Became addicted to drink and medications. Lost/quit job. Spent most of Evan’s life thereafter as an addict. Became abusive and violent when drinking. Was in and out of the hospital. Became close to therapist, Dr. Albright. Any relationship between the two was hidden. Best friends, more (?) Evan would stay with his aunt on and off when his mother needed a break, until the two got into a family feud and broke off contact with each other. Evan did not see his aunt after that. Stayed with Dr. Albright sometimes. Left home at 17 and stayed with friends and Dr. Albright. Finished high school out of the home while Eliza’s addiction and mental health spiraled even further. Tried to help take care of his mother but couldn’t help her enough. Went to college and lived with Shannon. Shannon’s mother and Eliza were friends before Shannon and Evan. Introduced them at a very young age. They had stopped being friends since, but Shannon and Evan remained best friends all throughout childhood and school. Had a happy childhood before the loss of his father and sister. Typical middle income family home full of love. Celebrated all holidays together. Seen as normal family living in the suburbs. Parents were social and had a lot of friends. Dinners, cookouts, and date nights. All changed after family tragedy and led to the second half of Evan’s childhood, which was the opposite of the first half in terms of love, affection, attention, and happiness. Became the adult in the relationship, felt burdened and alone. Bonus: Extended Brainstorm ▼ Add at least fifteen additional minutes to your freestyle brainstorming time. Present = lives with Shannon and another roommate in downtown Chicago, near where he grew up. Mother committed suicide when he was 19, is 22 now. works at Dr. Albright’s office as a medical transcriptionist. listens to recordings of patient visits and types out the transcripts to be saved in their files. Is in school for psychology, wants to be a psychiatrist eventually, like Dr. Albright. Just started his third year of university. Roommates are his best friend, Shannon, and their mutual friend Taylor. Shannon is a male, Taylor is female. All three go to the same university. Which university? DePaul? Shannon is going to school for art of some sort… painting? photography? Art Institute? Taylor going to school for mathematics. Still looks up to Dr. Albright as a mentor. Shannon has taken care of him since his mother passed. Goes to Shannon’s house for holidays, or Dr. Albright’s if Shannon’s family is out of town. Goes to his mother’s gravesite for events throughout the year (mother’s day, his birthday, her birthday, christmas) Decorates her gravestone for holidays. Sees Margot for the first time at cemetery, standing w/ family during a funeral. Sees her again at work. Sees her for the third time at university library, where they meet formally and start getting to know each other. Doesn’t know that Margot already knows who he is. Slowly get to know each other before Margot reveals her intentions of proving that Dr. Albright had something to do with her mother’s death. Evan doesn’t believe her— conflict in their friendship. Evan still thinks Dr. Albright is a good guy while Margot tries to convince him otherwise. Shannon thinks Margot sounds crazy but no one except Evan ever meets her. Evan begins to think he is going crazy when Margot disappears and he can’t find her or any record of her in places where he used to see her. No one knows what he is talking about. Dr. Albright is convinced Evan needs in house treatment, believes there has been a break in his sanity. Evan ends up agreeing to go into a mental hospital. |
| ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Leaning over his shoulder, I stared in amazement at the world he had drawn. Dragons breathing fire over a medieval stone castle warned travelers up the road to stay away. I wondered what it could mean, how it could relate to his own life. Did he see himself trapped, surrounded by stone as the monsters of real life blocked any potential rescuers? I thought about asking him, but Max isn’t really the type of kid you can just ask something like that. I saw the way he rubbed the back of his neck in frustration, erasing and smudging over and over until each section of his art was just perfect. He glanced back at me briefly and then turned back to the paper. “I’m guessing you want to talk?” he asked after a moment. I shrug and shifted my weight back and forth. “I mean, whenever you’re ready, of course. I’ll just, um, file some papers until then.” I wasn’t used to working with teenagers yet and it showed. Young children were so much easier, always trying to find your approval out of some sort of traumatized sense of abandonment from the adults in their life. I watched my coworker, Marc, playing catch with a few of the boys. They were all laughing, faking each other out to get a ‘touchdown’ on each other’s wall. Shaking my head, I tried not to think too much about how I’d never be able to connect with them the way he did. After two weeks on the job, I’d barely made any progress and I was just about ready to head back to social services. Just then there was a small knock at my door. It was Max, looking at his feet, hair falling across his face. “Max, come in,” I said, sounding more cheerful than I intended. He sighed loudly and walked toward my desk, taking a seat across from me. I didn’t need to touch his file that sat on my desk. I’d already gone through it six different times. Drug-addled parents, house fire, dead brother… Years of bouncing from foster home to foster home before he’d made his way down the chain to our facility. It was a typical case, but he wasn’t a typical kid. He had no criminal acts to speak of, no aggression issues, and very little in the way of remarkable behavior. He was almost just the shell of a person. Like all the parts that made him up had been taken away over time. All the remained was the skin and bones that contained him, held him upright. “You’ve been with us for almost six months now, Max. What do you think about the place?” He looked up and made eye contact, his dark brown eyes like a deer stuck in the headlights. “It’s fine.” I nodded. “Do you think you’d like to go back into a foster home instead?” He shrugged. “Wherever you want me to go.” “Well, it isn’t up to me, Max. I don’t make that sort of decision. I’m just here to talk and get to know you. I’m interested in getting to know who you are.” He scoffed and looked away. “You’ve read my files.” “The files aren’t the final word. Those are just a glimpse, a snapshot into your past. I want to know who you are, right now, as a person.” There was a long pause. “I think it’s almost time for dinner?” He spun sideways in the chair. Our meetings always went this way, me prying for information and him closing me off right before I made a breakthrough. I sighed and regretted it as soon as I saw him turn back to me at the sound. “Talk soon,” he offered before standing up and making his way out. I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to make contact with my other kids. There was Annie, a 16-year old reformed prostitute, Mikah, a dark-haired girl who refused to speak to anyone ever, James, a prior drug dealer who came to us straight from incarceration and Devyn, a new girl who seemed terrified of everyone and everything. Most of them were willing to talk, at least a little bit, save for Mikah. Still, there was nothing that really made me feel as though this would become a permanent position. That was until I went to close up my office for the night and head home. I stepped inside and grabbed my bag from under my desk. When I stood up, I noticed a large white paper on the face of the desk. It was Max’s drawing of the dragons breathing fire over the stone castle. I ran my hand across the writing at the bottom: Angela, It seemed like you were interested in this drawing. I have no use for it here. Give it a good home? - Max My hand flew up to my chest instinctively, fingers running across the smooth metal of the heart locket I had gotten from my own foster mother. Maybe working with teenagers wouldn’t be so bad after all. |
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I just had a series of very bad flashbacks with this subject. Brrrrrrr!
Just hearing all the kids screaming and stuff... horrible. I couldn't shake that one for a couple days.
