As Ali backed out of her parking space at Walgreen’s, she tried to focus her entire attention on the road instead of the bag next to her. She told herself that she could wait ten minutes to get home, but there was a big difference between what she could do and what she wanted to do. Her fingers tingled, as she strongly gripped the steering wheel, trying to resist the urge to open her pill bottle. She told herself that one pill wouldn’t hurt, though she knew that one pill would turn into two, then three and then by the fourth one she usually lost count. Her psychiatrist was willing to look the other way, as he prescribed bottle after bottle, as long as she paid. Her father didn’t seem to notice the small bits of money withdrawn from her college fund, but then again he was more worried about the past than his daughter’s future.
Her psychiatrist wasn’t much help, although he kept on giving her words of wisdom, words that Ali would rather do without. He wanted to talk to her about her addiction, which was rather ironic seeing as he was the one who enabled it. He said that there was a difference between needing and wanting the pills, and that Ali didn’t need them, she wanted them. But that was where he was wrong, it wasn’t a question of needing or wanting them, it was the strong desire to feel normal.
She used to tell herself that she was ordinary, that her existence was one that
was lived by many, she let go of that illusion when she found her mother in the barn that night. There was nothing normal about finding your mother surrounded by pieces of a broken glass, insisting that the lady inside the mirror was going to kill her. There was nothing normal about being called out of her SATS because her mother had been found wandering around the forest wielding a knife. There was nothing normal about a young girl of 16 being asked by her father to go find his wife, because he was too scared to find her himself. Nothing normal about finding your mother with a gun to her temple, insisting that the voices told her to do it. Ali thought that if she took the pills she might be able to escape the insanity that her mother had suffered from, but it turned out it only created another reminder that she was anything but normal.
Ali focused her attention back on the road, surprised to see that she wasn’t going home, but towards the barn house. She screeched her car to a halt, only to realize that the road was too narrow for her to turn around. Ali continued driving, vaguely remembering a driveway somewhere near the barn house. She decided to really focus her attention on the road, as the only light to guide her way were the weak headlights of her car. Ali breathed in deeply, trying to suppress the memories that were resurfacing as she approached the barn house. She jumped, thinking that she had heard the sound of a gunshot only to realize that it was all in her mind. Taking another deep breath, she moved steadily along. She could see the driveway up ahead, and prepared herself to turn, but then stopped suddenly once again, as a figure darted towards her. Ali couldn’t see the front of the figure, but there was something about the back that made Ali study the figure more closely. She noticed long hair hanging loosely against the silhouette’s back.Ali studied them more closely wondering if she knew them.Just as she was about to get out of her car, the person slowly turned around to reveal a face of a girl that Ali knew all too well. From the slant of her head, to the shape of her nose, down to the very last freckle, this girl was identical to her. This girl was her.
Okay since I can’t make a decision to save my life, I figured I’d ask my followers which story they prefer. We have to hand in a short story, for English Class and I kind of like this one but I kind of don’t cause I wrote it like 2 years ago, the other option i have is this one, and I love this one but like idk if I want to hand it in? So which ones do you guys prefer?