Short Story
Short Story Rough Draft
Natasha and her mother had never gotten along very well. They fought daily. The atmosphere in the house was always tense. It was no wonder that her mother was so sick. Everyone in the family knew of her condition. Well everyone but Natasha.
A few months ago, Natasha was at a friend’s house and her mother had to go to the hospital. Apparently the stress from all the fighting over the years was making her sicker and sicker. When they had tried to tell Natasha, she wouldn’t listen to them and stormed off to her room. Since then, her mother’s condition had become severely worse. Her cheeks were hollow, she was paler, and she was so weak. But Natasha was oblivious to any of this. She barely paid her mother one spec of attention, let alone enough to realize she would literally be the death of her.
It was Homecoming and Natasha was dying to go to the football game with her friends. Her mom knew it was almost her time to go, though
“No, you aren’t going to the game,” her mother repeated for the third time.
“But Mom!” Natasha yelled, her expression annoyed and angry. “Why can’t I go? You don’t have any valid reason of why I can’t! And don’t use that lame excuse about the fact that you’re dying, because you’re not. I know you’re not.”
As Natasha ranted, her mother let out a soft sigh, “you’re not going. I said no, Natasha.” Her mother’s tone was quiet and calm. The calmness was always worse than when she yelled; it made Natasha even angrier.
“That’s not fair! You’re just jealous because I have a boyfriend and you’re just a single mother,” huffing loudly, she crossed her arms. The teenage drama queen knew it was wrong to use that against her, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m going to the game and you can’t stop me.” With that, she turned around and stomped up the stairs to her room.
As she grabbed her money and threw on a jacket, this sinking feeling settled in her gut. She was used to this feeling of guilt
Natasha and her mother had never gotten along very well. They fought daily. The atmosphere in the house was always tense. It was no wonder that her mother was so sick. Everyone in the family knew of her condition. Well everyone but Natasha.
A few months ago, Natasha was at a friend’s house and her mother had to go to the hospital. Apparently the stress from all the fighting over the years was making her sicker and sicker. When they had tried to tell Natasha, she wouldn’t listen to them and stormed off to her room. Since then, her mother’s condition had become severely worse. Her cheeks were hollow, she was paler, and she was so weak. But Natasha was oblivious to any of this. She barely paid her mother one spec of attention, let alone enough to realize she would literally be the death of her.
It was Homecoming and Natasha was dying to go to the football game with her friends. Her mom knew it was almost her time to go, though
“No, you aren’t going to the game,” her mother repeated for the third time.
“But Mom!” Natasha yelled, her expression annoyed and angry. “Why can’t I go? You don’t have any valid reason of why I can’t! And don’t use that lame excuse about the fact that you’re dying, because you’re not. I know you’re not.”
As Natasha ranted, her mother let out a soft sigh, “you’re not going. I said no, Natasha.” Her mother’s tone was quiet and calm. The calmness was always worse than when she yelled; it made Natasha even angrier.
“That’s not fair! You’re just jealous because I have a boyfriend and you’re just a single mother,” huffing loudly, she crossed her arms. The teenage drama queen knew it was wrong to use that against her, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m going to the game and you can’t stop me.” With that, she turned around and stomped up the stairs to her room.
As she grabbed her money and threw on a jacket, this sinking feeling settled in her gut. She was used to this feeling of guilt