Hello hello! ;D
As you may know, I stopped writing MC.
But now, I have new inspirations to write another story and I promise I will finish the whole damn thing no matter what it takes.
I haven't thought of a title though, comment if you have an idea of what to call it.
Tell me what you think about it in my chatbox.
Thankies! <3
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Chapter 1
The new Marilyn Gallagher
1. Fun
2. Talkative (or at least I’ll try to be)
3. Doesn’t take no for an answer
4. Self controlled
5. Confident
6. Brave
7. Loveable
As you may know, I stopped writing MC.
But now, I have new inspirations to write another story and I promise I will finish the whole damn thing no matter what it takes.
I haven't thought of a title though, comment if you have an idea of what to call it.
Tell me what you think about it in my chatbox.
Thankies! <3
---------------------
Chapter 1
My life is so messed up right now, I’m glad that we’re moving out of this town. Usually, I would be very depressed if I was to move to another part of the country, away from my friends. But now, I say “I already packed my bags, what are you waiting for?” and “Do you think the fish and chips served there are as good as the one here?”
No, I didn’t have a fight with any of my friends or break any “friendship code”. It’s just that they just don’t seem to care anymore. I felt that I seep into the walls every time I’m around them. They can talk and laugh without noticing me there or plan an outing without even bothering to invite me. But then again, maybe it’s just me.
On the 40 minute flight from Dublin to Galway, I took out my new diary I specially bought to celebrate my new life in Galway and my purple writing pen.
The new Marilyn Gallagher
1. Fun
2. Talkative (or at least I’ll try to be)
3. Doesn’t take no for an answer
4. Self controlled
5. Confident
6. Brave
7. Loveable
The last one cracked me up. I couldn’t think of anymore since the air pressure in the plane blocked my ears, giving me a really bad headache. I put my diary in my backpack and sat back in the comfy seat massaging my temples.
The landing in Galway airport was smooth and I was glad that my headache subsided. I was not going to start my new life with an angry headache. As we stepped out the plane, everything felt different. The air was much fresher and lighter than the air back in the city. You could immediately tell that it is much greener than Dublin.
After collecting our luggage, we walked out the gate that said “arrival”. From a distance, I saw a middle aged man carrying a sign with neon writing that said “Eat this Thomas Gallagher!” with a very badly drawn picture of a sock. Unsurprisingly, dad spotted the eye catching, not to mention hurting, sign the same time as I did. He waved to the man and the man waved back, trying hard not to climb over the metal bar.
“I remember when you always said that whenever I lost a bet to you.” Dad laughed when we were walking to the car with the man. I guess this must be the best friend dad was talking about, Robert Doyle, I think. Together with him was his wife, April and his son, who was about my age. They must have been blocked by that neon sign back at the arrival hall as I didn’t see them back there.
After loading the entire luggage into the MPV, dad sat in the front seat with Robert driving, Mum with April in the second row, and whatever-his-name with me in the back. As if I had a deadly virus, what’s-his-name sat at the other end of the seat, and I was pretty sure the window would break any second because his face was pressing so hard against it.
I took out a packet of M&M’s and offered him some. He barely turned his head, snickered at me and turned back to his window. Geez, what’s his problem? I shrugged and popped one into my mouth. Oh well, more for me.
The landing in Galway airport was smooth and I was glad that my headache subsided. I was not going to start my new life with an angry headache. As we stepped out the plane, everything felt different. The air was much fresher and lighter than the air back in the city. You could immediately tell that it is much greener than Dublin.
After collecting our luggage, we walked out the gate that said “arrival”. From a distance, I saw a middle aged man carrying a sign with neon writing that said “Eat this Thomas Gallagher!” with a very badly drawn picture of a sock. Unsurprisingly, dad spotted the eye catching, not to mention hurting, sign the same time as I did. He waved to the man and the man waved back, trying hard not to climb over the metal bar.
“I remember when you always said that whenever I lost a bet to you.” Dad laughed when we were walking to the car with the man. I guess this must be the best friend dad was talking about, Robert Doyle, I think. Together with him was his wife, April and his son, who was about my age. They must have been blocked by that neon sign back at the arrival hall as I didn’t see them back there.
After loading the entire luggage into the MPV, dad sat in the front seat with Robert driving, Mum with April in the second row, and whatever-his-name with me in the back. As if I had a deadly virus, what’s-his-name sat at the other end of the seat, and I was pretty sure the window would break any second because his face was pressing so hard against it.
I took out a packet of M&M’s and offered him some. He barely turned his head, snickered at me and turned back to his window. Geez, what’s his problem? I shrugged and popped one into my mouth. Oh well, more for me.
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