(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({}); hello all, this is my book so far and I hope you like it, Note* some of it is true and some of it is not, also i have changed the names of the people involved.


My book so far J

The truth about being poor.
by Ryan Higgins

Im hiding in the dark with tears in my eyes
Just fighting to get through the night
Im losing it losing it losing it
With every move I make I die








My life has never been easy but it just gets worse.
My name is Frank Johnson I live with my mother , brother and step father. My real father spilt up from my mother before I can remember. It never really bothered me but it sure didn’t help my life. Me and my brother Fred have never really seen eye to eye, as I was always the quiet one behind my older half. He always seemed to have power over. Things were fine when I was young then my life changed forever. My step brother was born. Suddenly the attention was either on Fred or Mike. That was the start of the end. There was an age difference of two yeas between me and Fred and six years between me and Mike so I was always in the middle. As I became older I just evaporated into the background a lot. When I was nine I meant a girl named Sarah she was my life. Then I had to move to Ireland just out of the blue my mum told me. I cried for a while but then I was sort of glad to be moving away. There was this boy who bullied where I lived. He pushed my down a thorn bush one day. That when I got a lesson in life. People aren’t as nice as I wanted to think. So by the end of the school year me and my family had left for Northern Ireland. That was that. I was to be away from my darling Sarah forever.
When I started school I was feeling optimistic a new life but I was soon shot in the foot. I was starting year 6 and already I was behind. They had already had a year to revise for the 11+ I had two mouths. Great. The boys in my class didn’t like me because I was English. That was there only justification. I only had two proper friends. The rest turned on me like a pack dogs. That was the hardest year of my life, but like everything the year ended and I was going to secondary school.
Sarah still wrote to me as often as possible it nice to see her writing I did so miss it. Me and my brother regular flew home to see our father and his girlfriend. It was like having a second family. A nicer family. I would always get spoiled when I was there. I got a break from my hellish life back. I would go and see all my friends but never my Sarah. Then before I knew it I was going back to the last place I wanted to be. My apparent home.
I deliberately went to a different school to most of the other kids in my primary school. We were flocked into the assembly hall and told what class we would be in. Mine was last to be called of course. I barely knew anyone there but that was a good thing. That year went quickly and I was settled where I lived but once again life didn’t like me. My mother and her husband decided to move again further away from my school and new found friends. This was the sixth move in my life and I was sick of moving. Sarah wrote to me still but then I stopped replying. That was the worst mistake of my life.
The travel to my school become a marathon every day. Two buses which usually overlapping in time. So I often missed first class. I had always like school and I was starting to love it more and more. I got chosen from 250 pupils to go to Belfast with seven others to represent our school in a library quiz. We did well came in the top ten but it was the ride home was life changing. I had my first kiss. It was with a beautiful girl Hailey Mc Neil. Her hair brown, eyes a beautiful blue diamond. She made the stars look ugly. I had never been so happy in all my pathetic life. We went out for awhile but it soon ended. She told me that I was who she thought I was. That crushed my heart into a kaleidoscope of pain. I thought I would never hurt like that again but I was so so wrong.
I returned home, to my real home again to see my father. We went out with our nan one day back to where I used to live. I couldn’t wait. I could see my Sarah. When I got there I found an old neighbour and we talked for hours about how the place has changed. My primary school knocked down to make a Tesco. My beloved school replaced by a supermarket. Of course. Then we started talking about Sarah and the world stopped. Everything seemed to move in a perpetual slowness. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How could this of happened. Was it my fault if I had kept writing to her I could of maybe stopped her. Persuaded her against it. What had I done. The pain was excruciating. I felt my heart being torn into a thousand pieces by the devil himself. I couldn’t breathe. What had I done. Sarah my beloved Sarah, I’m so sorry. I kept saying to myself but no matter how much I said it I couldn’t stop the pain. Sarah had moved to London and run away from home. She’d been on drugs. She was only 14. No one had seen her in a year. I can’t describe how painful that was to hear. When I was back in Ireland I cried every night for a month. I started to pray more and more. It helped but not much. All I wanted to do was find her. I wish I knew where she was. I was just hoping she was alive.
My life started to go out of control. I started to smoke and do drugs. So I could forget about her. No matter how much I’d do I would always remember. I thought I was coping but what kind of coping was this. My friends didn’t understand. They had always had everything in there perfect lives. I always had nothing. Until I fell in love again.
I met the perfect girl for me. It was special. I had never felt this way before about anyone. Her name Susan Jones. She was beautiful. My heart skipped a beat every time I saw her. However as everything in my life there was a problem. She lived in England. I was still in Ireland. So to cut along story short it didn’t work. I thought we were supposed to be together forever. Soul mates. That was until she told me a long distance relationship wouldn’t work. I couldn’t move where I heard it. I did the only thing I knew how cried and then went to the bathroom. It was the only place I could be alone. The only place I knew where I wouldn’t be disturbed. So I could do what I always did when I was sad, when I felt alone, when I felt like life was trying to pull me under. I did what I needed to do.
Things for once where getting better. I was going into my third year of secondary school. I had friends, I had a normal life. I stopped the drugs. Though giving up smoking wasn’t an option. One because my life wasn’t that good yet and, two because my friend John had a constant supply of cigarettes. He was always good to me. He was thin, with dark eyes, and fairly short. His hair was short black. He took life with a lasa fair outlook. He was my best friend, we where always hanging out. He smoked like a train getting through twenty a day with easy. His family weren’t much different. Always arguing then smoking, then arguing more. Never a boring moment in John’s life.
I was working hard in school. Getting good marks in exams. So mum was pleased. Life was become easier. I rarely got in trouble at school. I kept my head down and worked. However there is always an exception. Being in a catholic school, religion was important but I struggled with the teacher. Mrs Carls was a lady who was in her mid forties. She was average height, grey hair, and was always trying to look younger than she was. She wasn’t best impressed my I drew a Nazi sign next to Jewish on the front of her Christmas test. I thought it was hilarious. She begged to differ.
“You’re a disgrace” she would say with a voice which sounded like it belonged to a chipmunk.
“Anything else” I replied.
“ Yes your on detention for the next week”
“K Mrs”
She looked at me with beady eyes that would scare any mountain lion.
“What did you say to me boy. Have some respect for your teachers.”
It was so incredible tempting to say respect is earned not given. But I thought better of it.
“Sorry miss I will see you on detention next Tuesday”
Her reply was so sour and untrue I could have punched her.
“I like you Frank I want you to do well”
“Of course Mrs I will behave myself from now on.”
How could she say that. That women hated me. Why I don’t know but she had never liked me. Then I became apparent why she had said it. The principle had just walk pass. I thought to myself devious, lying, horrid women. Another two years past I was starting my final Gsce year and life was once again against me.





Yet another summer had gone. Once again leaving behind me true friends and my dad.
“ I’ll see you soon boys”. My father said talking to me and my brother. He was a small muscular man with strong features and a common sense approach to life.
“See ya dad” me and Fred said in unison. It had become an unwelcome routine leaving dad. He kissed us on the forehead and let us go.
Departure was slow as it always was in Gatwick. The plane was on time for once. Me and Fred sat next to each other as always. Fred was a annoyance to me. Always bossing me around. He was blonde, skinny, with long curly hair. I did hate that child.
“Shut up now Frank I am trying sleep don’t talk to me until we see mum on the other side. I don’t want anyone thinking were together cause you’re a fag and I hate you.”
This was him being kind to me so I decided to read a book. I wiped out new moon and read a good fifty pages before we landed. Belfast International was dark. It was about ten o clock and freezing. Now I remembered why I hated this country always cold.
“Move fag munch” Fred’s favourite saying.
“I’m going. I can’t move if everyone in front one me is being slow.” I said it with a tone that was meant to have some viciousness in it but I was too nice and tried to be mean. Once we were in the terminal building I run to the toilet. I was dyeing to go. I wash my hands then looked at myself in the mirror. I had changed a lot in the last few months. I had brown hair which was close to the style of Justin Bebier but not quiet. I was a medium build but strong for my size. My eyes were a greeny yellowy colour. I was tall, pale and wearing my favourite hoodie. Unfortunately I couldn’t stare blankly at myself for long as I heard mums voice outside. I made myself look presentable which is shockingly hard for a fifteen year old. Then strolled out of the bathroom.
“Mum” I said with some enthusiasm.
“Hi Frank”
I looked at her nothing had changed. She was still average height, still had the same blonde hair, and the same green eyes.
“Shall we I wrecked” I smiled and she smiled back the way only a mother can.
When we got to Bessbrook my phone started to vibrate. It was my best English friend Jennifer. The text read “was the flight any good or did u crash”. I couldn’t even be bothered to text back so I left it. I stumbled into the cold house. Throwing my bags on the bedroom floor and falling asleep almost instantaneously.
I was awoke by the last person I wanted to see. My little step brother Nicholas.
“ Wake up wake up come on its seven o’clock” he exclaimed with that annoying child voice which I loathed.
“I’m coming” was all I could say. I checked my phone and of course there was a message.
“Do you wanna come to my on Wednesday as this is our last week of the summer” it was from John. I posed the question to myself and thought why not. I replied “Sure”
I struggled downstairs of course no on else was up so I fell I watch mindless children television for hours before Fred was up. I did even acknowledge his presence it wasn’t worth it. Then mum walked in.
“You ok boys”
“Yes why wouldn’t we be?”
“I was just asking”. Of all times she wanted to how I was, why now of course “Me and James are going out shopping at twelve u want to go” I thought for a second and then thought to myself NO NO NO
“Sure I will mum” three hours of fun.
The shopping was about as fun as playing with Nicholas on one of his imaginary flights though the stars. Although I did see some fit girls so wasn’t a total waste of my pointless life. I did the usual when I got home. Help her put away the food then ran for the Playstation a hour of mindless killing can only be good for a teen. I told mum that it was to violent for Nicholas. So I got a precious hour to myself. However the hour past far to quickly so I was forced to play with it.
“Play outside”
“Ok ok” it was to much effort fighting with an eight year old. Yet another hour went this time without real happiness. I was just looking forward to going to John’s.
“ oww” and crying could only mean one thing. “OWWW” Nicholas had fallen over and cut his knee.
“Come here” I yelled in an emotionless tone. “Mum Nick fell over”
“My baby are you ok” Nickolas shook his head. I felt I should leave so retreated to my and took out New Moon again and started to read once again.
Before I knew it was dinner time. The most unsociable time of day. We’d all sit in front of the tv in silence. As we sat there while there was some useless cooking show was on. A strange silence fell, it was hard to explain. But it was all the animals in the neibourhood had suddenly turned silent. Then the earth shock with tremendous force and then there was silence again. We all looked at each other and knew what it was.
The word “Bomb” was said by everyone in unison. Living in South Amragh a bomb went off at least every year. It had become almost a novelty.
“Dissident Republicans planted a car bomb in Crossmaglen”. The man on the news was so boring. One because he voice was so stupid and two because he only reported on three things. That’s because that’s all that happens. 1 Bomb 2 Politics 3 Murder. Nothing else every occurred in Northern Ireland so so boring.

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Im not done yet. hope you liked it

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I stopped reading once you said new moon, Justin bieber,

Sorry, But i'll be the first to say it.

Tl;dr

Kinda reminds me of the book Angela's Ashes, by Frank McCourt

Cool Story Bro =D

1)Copypasta this
2)Get it published
3)????
4)Profit


Copyright your shit before putting it out there

Is it just me or do most premium members have very short attention spans and think it's cool to "cool story bro." to everything someone posts.

Anyway, a really good read and I hope you continue, can't wait for the next chapter.

we dont think we know

Great concept, but it doesn't sound professional enough to be published.