New story, please comment, I would like to improve it. It's just an idea got it off the show I watched about poor kids in the Appalachian mountains
That morning started out as any other morning. I woke up in the and climbed out of bed, it wasn't the best bed in the whole world, a little hard but a bed nonetheless. The bright morning sun blared through my window.
My mom was probably still asleep, sleeping off a hangover from some wild party she and her boyfriend went to. I resented her, she got to do whatever the hell she wanted and I was stuck here taking care of her and this house like I was her mother and not the other way around.
I climbed out of bed and walked and into the bathroom. It was grimy, the worst room in the house, the others weren't horrible,the tiled walls were filled with soap scum, as well as the floor tiles. I went into our shower, the floors were dirty. They had scuffs of a yellowish, brown color. I ignored them, and turned on the water. My mom and I tried to resist turning it on hot, however; if we did that my mom would flip out at our water bill. So I took a cold shower. It numbed my body and I shivered as I stepped out.
Luckily, my hair was naturally straight so all I had to do was wait for it to dry to look good. It was red, I liked it. It made me unique and different from everyone else. Wiped some of the steam off the mirror and looked into my deep hazel eyes. Even though most people would think I did, I loved my looks, they weren't like every other tall brunette, athletic girl you saw all the time. My body was petite, short and thin.
Not that I wasn't already different, but the kids at school didn't know that. I lived in this house, it wasn't that wonderful but it served it's purpose. My mom had a job it paid okay but lately we were having trouble paying some bills. So when I was old enough, I would have to get a real job as well. I had a job where I babysat these two girls at a house down the the road. It paid well, twelve dollars an hour. The people had a lot of money but I didn't baby sit them for hours on end. Probably just four hours.
The house was small, and a grayish color. I tried to keep it clean as possible, the only room I didn't clean was my mothers, she could clean it herself, I really didn't give a shit.
I stepped out of the bathroom, my hair was drying pretty well and I was wrapped in a towel. The house was cold, we usually didn't turn on the heat to high, because of the bill.
Bills were what I dreaded, we could pay some of them, we tried to pay the better ones, like electric, water, and heating. But others were harder. I paid the phone bill, the only bill I paid all by myself. It was the one thing that kept people in contact with me. I helped my mom pay the other ones.
We got along okay until my dad left. He decided he didn't love my mom anymore and left us for some other woman he met at his job as a mechanic. He had fixed her car and the "fell in love" I doubted that was really how happened. I got letters from him once and awhile but when I didn't reply he stopped writing.
I walked into the cramped bedroom and over to a suitcase that contained my spring clothes. I didn't have the best clothes that a lot of kids had, but, they worked. I went to Goodwill and they had great clothes sometimes. We had a washer, and no dryer. My mom had asked which one I would rather have, I decided clean clothes would be better.
I decided on a pair of blue and white plaid shorts and a blue camisole and over it I put on a white zip-up sweatshirt. The had a few stains on them that the washer didn't get out. However, it wasn't anything too noticeable.
I was fourteen years old and for the most part I took care of myself. My mom tried to get money for us, but not the right way. Her addiction was alcohol. She was always drunk or dealing with a hangover. That's why I hated her. If she could find money to buy herself alcohol that why couldn't she find money to pay for other things that we needed more. I couldn't wait to get away from her. I had begged her to get help but she insisted she needed none. I wished she would get over herself. I dreamed of getting away from her and starting my life, having a good job with steady income, and a good husband and kids. For now, I just had to hope.
Hoping wasn't to difficult, I got good grades, I could graduate high school easily. But for now, I was still in middle school.
I started back into the bathroom and looked into the streaked mirror. I applied some light make-up on my heart shaped face but stopped in my tracks when I heard, "Lindsay," my mom slurred, drawing out the syllables in my name. I exhaled deeply and walked down the hallway, stepping over clothes on the floor. "Yeah mom," I asked, stepping into her bathroom.
I closed my eyes at the sight. She was sitting on the bed, her eyes were glazed over and her hair was all out of place. She was staring at me, her hand pressed to her head. "Get me some aspirin would you?" She said in a high, squeaky voice.
"I have to go," I replied.
She frowned, her brow furrowing. "I don't care," she hissed.
I sighed and walked into the kitchen. Many of the cabinets were already opened so I walked over to one where we kept medicine. Accidentally, I walked into a counter top and it jabbed into my hip, clutching my hip I kept walking and grabbed the green bottle of Excedrin from the cabinet and walked back to her room.
I tossed it onto the bed next to her and she ignored me, popping a few pills into her mouth. I sighed and grabbed my backpack from the living room. We had no TV, only an ugly blue couch, a coffee table, and a long clothesline that hung from one side of the room to the other. It held no clothes today, however. There were some pictures hanging crookedly on the walls. Just my mothers idea of making the house more "homey," it would never be "homey." A home is where people live happily together, that was the opposite of me and my mother.
I grabbed my bag off the coffee and walked out the door, down the creaky wooden steps, and onto the road. cell phone.
I was almost to school when I heard someone call my name, "Linds!"
I turned around. "Hey Chase," I said to my best friend. He was popular, more popular then me. But, I know more about him then other people do. He was in a band, and future quarterback on the high school football team. But, that didn't matter. Not to me. He smiled, brushing his long brown bangs out of his bright blue, shining eyes.
"How come you always walk?" He asked, he didn't know where I lived, I figured I should tell him, but I never did, I couldn't. I never invited him to my house, and he didn't ask to come. He didn't need to come. He was oblivious to the fact that I didn't have the best school supplies and that I didn't keep up with the latest trends. He had a lot of problems to deal with on his own.
"Why are you walking now?" I questioned, completely ignoring his question.
"I missed the bus," he said.
I'd known Chase since we first came here, when I was in third grade. My mom took care of me more then, she felt more obligated since I was younger and couldn't do anything myself. But now that I was in middle school she learned to ignore me more.
I nodded and started walking again, he followed me and then stopped abruptly. "How come I always get the feeling you're hiding something from me?" He asked, tugging at the string on his blue sweatshirt.
I looked at him and took a deep breath, "I don't know," I stammered.
"Well are you?" He asked quizzically.
"No," I replied.
"Okay, because we're best friends, we have to tell each other everything," he laughed. I smiled, we had made a pact that we would tell each other everything, it was cliche, of course, but for the most part we did tell each other everything.
"I know," I replied and kept walking. The guilt was building inside of me, he told me everything, why couldn't I just tell him? He smiled and that only made it worst, he had the best smile, a smile that all the girls fall for him even though he thought most of the girls at our school were sluts.
"Good," he replied and kept walking.
Okay, this has some obvious issues. A girl who can't afford a bed can't afford an iPod either, or a cell phone, for that matter. You need to figure out exactly how they're surviving-- if the mother doesn't have a job, are they on welfare? Is the government assisting them? Do they have family giving them money to get by?
Just kidding, but I'd consider spicing up your writing style by beginning with other things besides 'I'. And example paragraph...