Chapter 1- Pilot
I believe love; it is possible to find it anywhere for some. Even in the most uncommon parts of the earth. Love, it comes unexpectedly, some people go looking for it, and some even die for it. In movies, love is portrayed as being magical; relationships are pictured as being forgiving, full of excitement, boys rescuing the damsel in distress, and people actually caring…..
I however, tend to disagree with the movie scripts. Love, if out there…I think it might have passed me by. I don’t go out and look for it anymore; I did that once before and got my heart ripped apart because I wore it on my sleeve, the guy I gave it to is now far gone, probably out with another woman just as fast as he left me.
My heart now is hidden away inside a cage that lies deep within the corners of my chest, as for the key, its lost even to me. So here I sit, in this coffee house called “Kandies Caverns” with my journal of life, its chapters are the numbers of years that I’ve been writing, it starts from age eleven, and goes up to age eighteen and as far as I know it will keep on growing.
My journal is like my guideline. In it, it makes me keep track of all the former mistakes I’ve made allowing me to not go make the same mistakes again. If I ever were to lose my journal, my life would be completely in the hands of a pass-by stranger. The thought of never being able to gain hold of it ever again crushes me.
“Oh my god, Molly. You’ve been here forever.” My friend Amy stated, I guess you guys now know my name. “Go home sweetie, you’re going to fry your brain writing in that thing.” She said talking about my journal.
“I’d rather be here instead of my home….its far less lonely here.” I told her as I closed my journal and put down my pen.
“Word of advice girl, come on I care about you Molly….but maybe, just maybe you need to let a man in your life.” She admitted softly to me, she knows I get all emotional when she goes there.
“I can’t….” I sighed as I ran my fingers through the strands of my reddish brown hair, my elbows sat gently on the blue covered table, and I did my best to hold back the tears that formed in my eye and I just thought back to every bit of pain I felt every time I went out and tried to have a second other.
“Not all guys are like him…” she whispered as she sat down on the black bar stool chair that sat right next to me, she rubbed her hand across my back. “You can’t just sit here though, if you really want to find love. Go out, and converse with other actual people, not just with your journal,” she suggested.
“I’ll just die an old cat lady…” I chuckled slighty but quickly went back to my almost teary mood
“If you want, my boyfriend Brad is having a party tonight. You are welcome to tag along. Let people know you're still alive so to speak” I may be still alive…but inside I feel dead.
She then stood up, and reached her hand out to mine. “Come on, go home and get ready for tonight. It’s not healthy the way you just isolate yourself, I am serious.”
I sighed, but a few minutes later I got up as well and grabbed her hand. “Alright.” I muttered.
She smiled “Great! It’ll be fun tonight I promise.” she assured me as she flipped her long brown hair to the right side of her neck.
“Great.” I tried to sound enthused, but it wasn’t really working.
Moments later, I headed out the door of the coffee house with my journal and headed to my lonesome home. It was within walking distance and the wind was slightly blowing the hair in my face. The smell of coffee was in the air mixed with all sorts of bread from the bakery, birds chirping, kids playing in the far corners of the street, other local shops had their items up for display hoping to make sales. Older and younger couples, walking hand in hand with one another looking oh so happy, something I have been lacking. Even the ones who are widowed looked happier than I, as they sit on the brown benches reading newspapers and holding chain lockets with pictures of the ones they were once married to.
I always want to cry every time I walk here, I know that life is supposed to be this wonderful thing that nobody ever wants to go from, but that isn’t the case for me. I know people tell others that the love of your life will come to you, and that we’ll see our life’s change for the better when they do. I wish those words were true.
I got to the door of my house; my porch was half covered with news papers, and leaves from my dead plant that I once called “Toby”. I opened my door, and the smell of a very vacant house rushed through my nostrils, I haven’t really been here in some time. When people say I’m always at the coffee shop, they are not kidding. The beeping noise on my answering machine was constantly going off, I pushed play. It was my mother, worried about my well being like always, telling me how she has found another lover for the unknown number of times this year; she has gone kind of bizarre since dad died in a car accident three years ago. She hasn’t been the same, she’s been constantly trying to find the same kind of love that she had with my father, and if she doesn’t find it in enough time with the person she’s with, she dumps him and starts a new.
I walked into my room, clothes in a small pile on the floor, my closet door half way open, and I caught sight of the litter box I had for my cat, that I don’t have any more. He died of prostate cancer….see? Everything that I love, some day leaves me to suffer. Yeah, some life I’ve got huh?
My bed, still covered with the black sheets, was the same as when I left it. I felt like falling onto it and not leaving my room, I was really tempted to just cancel the party date that I had made with Amy, but I know she would be crushed if that were to happen, and I don’t want her to feel that pain because of me. I’ve got nothing to wear to a party though. If I wear what I own then people will think I am a laughing stalk. That won’t really change my life but still.
I looked on my closet mirror and examined myself. White shirt with small ruffles at the top, plain simple blue jeans, not tight, nor covered with holes none of that, just simple blue jeans, and my black flat shoes. This would be classified as, well rather boring. Not sophisticated as I like to call it, just boring, a lady with no sense in fashion whatsoever is what I’ll be called if I were to go to a party.
Yes, I judge myself way too much in case you haven’t noticed.
[NOTICE: Only one chapter of this novel is posted because I am in the process of publishing this novel. Yes, I recently had more chapters up of this novel but I have decided to only leave one remainging. This chapter is a non-edited chapter, so please do exclude any mistakes for they will be fixed. If you have gotten to the end of this chapter and found it to be enjoyable, I would like to thank you for taking your time to read it.
If you would like to be informed when you can purchase your own copy of this novel, go ahead and like it on the page to follow. www.facebook.com/ACoffeeHouseLove. ]
Copyright © 2014 Raquelita15. All Rights Reserved.
© Copyright 2016 Raquelita15. All rights reserved.