bending_sickle | A sibling may be the keeper of one's identity*

Words Written Today - 2,668
At This Rate You Will Finish On - November 24, 2012

#THAT'S RIGHT I AM CHIPPING AWAY AT NOVEMBER 18TH'S WORD COUNT AW YISS #THREE DAYS AHEAD FUCK YEAH #(guys no seriously this is the one good thing in my life right now and the screaming match i had this morning over this was of the not go... #...not good variety like YES I SUCK AT EVERYTHING BUT PLEASE LET ME HAVE JUST THIS ONE GOOD THING RIGHT NOW)

(Translation: Mom's home and we've had two shouting matches already, the one this morning involving threats of suitcases and sidewalks and me crying and shouting with my eyes shut and my muscles quivering and her not listening never listening because unless it's job-hunt related it's a waste of time and if you're daughter is saying she wants to throw herself off the balcony or that she's thinks you hate her and don't love her at all obviously the thing to say is "Well go on then" and *crickets*, respectively. ...yeah it's not going well. So I write. Because hell to the fuck no am I having this taken away from me.)

ETA: More on that here.

A hand grabbed the collar of Chip’s jacket and pulled him up, a voice shouting his name in his ear. Chip pulled loose and turned to see Lauren, her face contorted into an expression of fear and anguish. She was saying something, repeating the same thing over and over in a litany of desperation but it took a moment for the pain to ebb from Chip’s mind enough for him to understand.
“Have you seen him? Have you seen Brandon?” She grabbed him by the shoulders, fingers clawing tight into his flesh. “Chip, listen to me, have you seen my brother? Have you seen him?”
Chip shook his head but Lauren kept asking, her holding on him growing tighter as she started to shake him back and forth. Chip covered one of her hands with his, both of them cold and strong, fingers flexing around each other. “No, Lauren, no, I haven’t seen him. I haven’t, Lauren. I’m sorry.”
It was the sorry that did it. She slumped against him, her head on his shoulder, and he could feel her breath on his neck coming in short shallow gasps. “Please,” she said, “please tell me you’ve seen him. Please tell me you’ve seen Brandon. Please, please just tell me.”

28581 / 50000 words. 57% done!

* Marian Sandmaier