I have had this book idea for about 3 months or more and I struggle every day trying to expand on it. (One of the reasons I haven’t been blogging. I’ve been writing elsewhere.). Tonight, I was able to break through the stone walls of writers block and surf the rainbow of imagination. I am only in pre-writing stages, but I plan to make it a short story. So, with that in mind, you can help. I am looking for first and last names that are french in origin. Comment your suggestions if you wish to help a fellow writer! Au revoir!
“You forgot me”
Raelynne sighed as tears began to grace her face.
“It was an accident, ” her mother tried to assure her.
She turned her back to her mother, and shook her head wearily. As she walked up to her room, she whispered softly to herself, “I don’t believe you”.
Raelynne flopped face first into her pillows and sheets as the stream of tears broke through the damn that was her eyes.
She lay silently, closed off from the rest of the world as she wondered,
“Am I invisible?”
Invisible. Routinely, that is what I feel like in this world. With only one friend and a family who never notices me, invisible seems like a proper fit. Don’t you think? You are probably wondering why I feel this way and how it all started. Well let me tell you, it has been going on for quite some time and I can bet there are kids, maybe even teens and adults like me who feel the same. I call myself “The invisible child”.
Living with two successful younger siblings is no picnic especially when you’re the one with the disability. This is mostly when I ask myself “Do they think I’m broken? Are they ashamed of me? Or “Am I not worth being proud of when I do something I couldn’t do before?” These questions often plague my mind in my family because unless I do something wrong, bad, or don’t do something I was asked to do then I am not worth time in my parents eyes or so it looks that way to me.
“Hey, I know that feeling. Do you have any advice on how to deal with it?” For those who know exactly what I’m talking about, I’m sorry. The truth is I am still stuck myself. Why is it okay for parents to deny that they are treating you a certain way? Why is it okay for parents or people in general to make you feel like your thoughts and feelings do not matter because you are different?
Pc: Invisible child by Tove Jansson