Unspoken Prayers

(Heres an idea for a new autobiographical novel/novela if I really cram it... I'm working on it slowly...)


First, it was the specialized shoes, I think to myself, pondering what was to be next. I sit in front of the mirror staring at my reflection. I usually would be standing, but my knee is hurting too bad for that. It was the right one this time. I look down at the god damned Tom Hillfigure shoes at the foot of my bed and can’t help but grumble at myself. The girl inside of me is still bouncing 'cause I went freaking shopping. The more reasonable tom boy is grumbling at the fact that I spent sixty freaking dollars on a pair of crumby shoes. I had promised myself at one point in time to never buy shoes for more then twenty dollars, other then riding boots cause every one knows if you tack a horse label onto something then it doubles in price. It’s stupid but true. I lace up the old, beaten pair of boots that I had to wear for the barn now. Even they hurt my knees but, it wasn’t as bad as my nice, zip-up Ariats. I hated lace-up boots they took forever and were annoying. Zips you just threw on and went. You didn’t even need to zip them up if you didn’t want to. Plus, if you did want to it was easy to zip them up while on horseback. I sighed and grabbed my keys and purse and start to holler to the dogs when, I heard my dad on the phone up stairs, talking to some one about us moving to Kentucky. I’m reminded of my Foundations of Technology, better known as F.O.T., homework and stop at the base of the stairs. Living in a split level house isn’t that bad if you’re trying to get fit because you can do stairs all day, but if your knees are bad it kinda makes you want to cry.

“You heading up to the farm?” My mother asks as she comes to top the stairs to talk to me, so I don’t have to come up all the way.

“Yea, could you ask Dad if he could work with me on my F.O.T. project tonight after I get back?” I asked, having realized that he’d probably be on the phone for a while.

“No, just wait. He might want to do it now.” I grumbled and after she repeated herself a few times, I come the rest of the way up the stairs and begin as my mom calls it ‘making out with my dog.’ I’m not its just she likes to bite and lick you, expecially in the face, and I just happen to bite and kiss her back. We’re really close my dog and I. She’s the first dog that was truly mine and she’s still a bit iffy. My mother gets up before me and feeds all the dogs and seeing how before a year ago, I couldn’t drive up to the farm by myself mom would take them all the time. Which, causes all the dogs to attach themselves to her, but that’s helped as well by the fact that she’s more comfortable around animals then her own children. Sad but, true.

So, I waited till my dad was off and asked him. He said yes and then after about an hour of me listening to him talk, I’m released to go draw up the plans for my project so detailed that a five year old could draw a picture from them. Mind you the pictures I was drawing were mostly for the other people in my group, which included two seniors. I was a junior and the other lovely addition to my burden was my sophomore friend. She was nice, but she didn’t exactly think, as it seemed most American’s didn’t. I know, I know so cynical at so young. Well, do you blame me?

What really sucks the most though is not being able to go up to the farm. I knew I should have gone up earlier instead of reading my book, but then the whole reason I want to go up to the farm is because of the book. It's another horse book. I say that like I’ve read millions. In actuality I’ve successfully finished one novel that doesn’t just mention horses. I read three quarters of a saddle club book, but that book was all about a girl and only had her ride a couple of times. I was rather disgusted. Other than that novel, I use to love the Blaze series. That short story series was awesome. I can also watch horse movies, but I just can’t stand horse books. They all are so fake and little pink ponyish. I almost get physically ill from reading them. So for the rest of the night I played games and worked on home work intermittedly, but never once touched the F.O.T. work I had to do.

First Post Ever!

I am doing a project for my creative writing class which is blog every day for 30 days as a professional writer would. I'll also be posting my at homes on here because it is part of the requirments....