{Writing Wednesdays} “I Don’t Think You Understand”

In an effort to keep my writing skills up to par and to keep up on blogging, my friend Nicki and I have decided to do a prompt fueled Wednesday every couple of weeks that we’re calling “Writing Wednesdays” (yay alliteration!!)

Writing Wednesday

Here is how it works: This will be a semi-monthly feature here and at Nicki’s Blog. On the first and third Wednesday of every month we’ll post a prompt that we’ve either found or thought up ourselves along with our drabble for said prompt. Anyone and everyone is welcome to join in, all we ask is that you link back to one of us on your own Writing Wednesday posts.

Also, be sure that you comment on this post with a link to your own post so that everyone can check out the other blogger’s stories.


First Line “I Don’t Think You Understand”

(from @WritingPrompt)

“I don’t think you understand,” I clutched the book to my chest holding it close to me like it was a child in pain. “This book got me through everything. When a boy told me I was ugly, this book showed me that looks weren’t everything. When my parents went through a divorce, this book helped me escape to another world where I could be a princess on her way to rescue a prince. I can’t just pack it up and store it away.”

Jacob looked from the book to my face and back and let out a big sigh. “Alice, that book is falling apart. The pages are worn so thin you can barely read the letters. The binding is cracked so the pages are falling out and the cover is missing. There’s a new special edition coming out, we could just buy a new one.”

I spun around so fast I saw stars, the book still clutched in my hands, when Jacob saw me, he backed up a few steps and raised his hands. “Whoa! Down girl.”
“I’m not a dog!”
“I know. Just trying get you to retract your claws.”
“Referring to me as an animal probably isn’t the best step toward that.” I sent what I hoped was a menacing glare toward him as he lowered his hands and placed them over mine.

Moving out of my dorm room and into an apartment with him and his brother was going to be weird and difficult enough. I’d never lived with a guy, let alone two. Sure, they were my friends, but what if they snored? What if I snored? Or what if they don’t like what I cook? Are they just going to let me make what I want and then throw it away? With all this, the last thing I needed was to be worried about where my books were going to be housed.

The more I thought about it, the worse I felt, but I knew this was the next step in becoming an adult. I desperately needed to get out of my house and prove to my mother that I could handle it. But if she didn’t believe I could do it, then I had a hard time believing I could do it myself.

That’s why I had Jacob. Adorable and sweet Jacob who usually knew exactly what to say and when to say it. Except for today.
Today he was batting zero.

“I’m sorry Al. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Jacob said, his voice softening as he spoke, making me feel more childish than I already did.
“You were thinking that books don’t have feelings.”
“DON’T! Stop speaking now, or it will be the last words you say to me.”

Feeling like I was 6 years old again I threw myself upon my bed and stared up at the ceiling plastered with glow in the dark stars, trying to find the pretend constellations patterns in the plastic. Surrounded by my books I was home, I didn’t want to know what a home would be like to be without them.

“Alice,” Jacob sat on the bed and took my hand in his. “The books will always be with you…”
“If you say ‘right here’ and point to my heart I will punch you.”
He chuckled and it made me smile.
“No, I mean they’ll be with you because you’re only going to be about a 20 minute drive away. You can always come visit them and tell them how pretty they are.”
“I–I don’t do that!” I retorted quickly. A little too quickly. Even I could hear the lie in my voice.
“Sure you don’t.” He was learning. It’s best to agree with me when it comes to my books.

I sat up reluctantly and pursed my lips taking a look around my room at my mother’s house. Soon, it would just be an empty room with a lot of books. A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I set the book down on my bedside table.
“I guess I could just use my room as a library…”
“Good step!”
“… and that way I can visit my mom more often?” I looked at Jacob for a bit of reassurance. He responded with a laugh and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
“And then you can tell your books how pretty they are.” My smile widened as I stared down at my knees trying to fight the blush in my cheeks. “Come on Al, let’s go home.”

We stood from my old bed and I fought the urge to hide under it from the scary future of adulthood. I let out a long sigh and nodded, as we left my old bedroom and as I left my childhood behind I took one last look around at the stories that had helped through every ordeal imaginable feeling content that I could finally start trying to be an adult. Or at least start filling a new house with my books.

Standing in the doorway and smiled and felt the nervous butterflies slowly stop fluttering.
“You’re so pretty, my beautiful books.” I whispered as I closed the door, vowing to return.

The prompt for next time will be: It had been too long… on August 20th.
You can find Nicki’s post here.

Please leave comments, future ideas and links to your own posts below! We’d love to see what you come up with.

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