Trigger warning: this one is going to be a little dark.
In my teens, I watched a movie about a girl who loses her brother in an accident. She goes to a singing camp where she overcomes her stage fright and learns to properly grieve her brother. And everyone hugs at the end.
I have always been odd. Weird. When I was younger, I stuck out like a sore thumb in a time when it was extremely cool to fit in. I have had an overwhelming desire to be more than just the mould that society had cast for me even before I was born. My life was set in stone but I wanted that stone to be one I could write on my own story. A stone I could chisel and create something different than what was expected of me.
A couple of weeks back, a beautiful person approached me and told me that she enjoyed my writing and my blog. I was so amazed by the words she spoke, words that encouraged and inspired me. So this blog post is for Loretta; thank you awesome human.
Author: Rosalind Russell Genre: Creative Non-Fiction Book Blurb: Veronica is a teenager when civil war erupts in South Sudan. Lonely and friendless after the death of her father, she finds solace in her first boyfriend, and together they flee across the city when the fighting breaks out. On the same night, Daniel, the son of a colonel, also makes his escape, but finds himself stranded by the River Nile, alone and vulnerable. Lilian is a young mother, who runs for her life holding the hand of her little boy Harmony – until a bomb attack wrenches them apart, forcing her …
Part 1. The jacket had to be taken off again. And the shirt as well. His undershirt was soaking wet and the white shirt’s armpits had dark wet patches, and so did the back of the shirt.
I apologize to the readers for this. This post is going to be a rant and a mess.
Does anyone remember 1st January 2020?