New Day Flash Fiction

The tears had set her off.

Sitting in the middle of her bedroom floor writing furiously in her leather bound journal, her soul leaked out of her pores, finding itself soaked into the pages currently enduring her abuse. Waking from tormented dreams to find that your body has recognized them as some sort of reality, it producing tears that your conscious had not approved of is a scary thing. One that forced her into action, to document everything she was thinking, feeling, hearing and seeing; a constant stream of consciousness. What was once three a.m. is now six-thirty, streams of freshly squeezed sunlight filters through her slightly opened blinds. This is what catches her eye and causes her pen to falter. She appraises her work as she leans back, away from the battered pages where her pen has left permanent indents, the many pages after it saving it from puncture-wounds.

There is so much worrying her, her mind suffering from a serious case of roadrunner thoughts kicking up a dust storm that prevents anything from processing. She has no money, her mom can’t get a loan, and her financial aid isn’t enough. CAN SHE GO TO COLLEGE? Or will she be forced to stay here in this rinky-dink town that is driving businesses away and get some part-time fast food job just to get some type of income? I don’t want that to be me. I want to be great, to change people’s lives, to help people overcome their circumstances. But how can I do that when I can’t overcome mine? She snatches her journal up and screams as she launches it at the wall, flinching as it bounces off of the window with a loud smack.

She curls into the fetal position as she starts to hyperventilate, going into a full on panic attack. As she lies there she stares out the slivers in the blinds, seeing the sun coming out in full force. It’s morning. A new day, and I can’t let this overwhelm me like this. Another day means another chance, and I have to take it, I have to figure this out. I won’t be stuck here like everyone else; I will get to college no matter what. It takes her a few minutes to regain her composure and start brainstorming her options. All she has going for her is her brain and her body, so which will it be?

I am participating in the Literary Lion blogging event. It is a weekly affair with short prompts to inspire a short, 400 words or less, story.This week’s prompt was MORNING.