Broken Hope (boyxboy)

Chapter 1 - Breaking

This sure took awhile! I don't know how often I'll be updating this since I'm currently busy with other things, but I will make sure to update whenever I can.

I've noticeably improved since writing my previous book, but I still have a ways to go, so hopefully you can bear with any errors I may make.

Feedback of any kind is appreciated!

-Picture of Keegan

Keegan's POV

My name is Keegan Canterberry. I'm a loner. Not so much by choice, more so due to the many events that have unfolded throughout my short life.

When I was eight my grandparents died in a car accident. I was really close with them. They would come over every weekend and have dinner with me and my parents. We'd usually hang out and tell stories by the fireplace. Mine were always very expressive stories about animals. Everyone would laugh when I placed myself in the middle of the room and acted them out. I always went into great detail when talking about penguins. For some odd reason I had an unhealthy obsession with them at the time. I still find them extremely cute to this day though.

I would make sure to steal my grandma or grandpa's lap whenever I could. I loved the feeling of their hugs, and their sweet smell. It always made me feel so cheerful. I was a total sucker for hugs, I think I still am actually.

Every Christmas I would run down the stairs and eagerly await my grandparents arrival. I was more excited for them than I was my presents, which is kind of unusual for kids. I guess I'm just a leech for any type of affection. My mom and dad would always laugh at how clingy I was. I'd even stick to them. Whenever my grandparents were gone I would migrate towards my parents like a magnate.

We've had so many great moments that whenever I think back I can't help but to smile.

One night in November my grandparents were coming over for dinner. I remember being glued to the glass of the front door, like some kind of plunger. I watched as the thick snowflakes drifted from the gloomy sky and hit the pavement. Before I knew it, it was already seven-thirty, and my grandparents still hadn't shown. They were warned by my parents that the roads were slippery, so I assumed they were just being cautious, until about nine that night. We got a call reporting a crash. My father rushed out the door wearing a look of distress unlike any I've seen before. My mind couldn't processes what was going on at the time so I stood still, clueless. My mom took me by the hand, into the living room so we could watch TV. She tried to comfort me, but now that I look back on it she was more frightened than I was. I fell asleep on the couch still confused as to what was going on.

I woke up about an hour later to hear the door pop open and chatter coming from the same direction. I crept over to the noise and poked my head out the corner. My father looked horrified as he forcefully pressed the heavy words from his lips. What had come out of his mouth shook our worlds. He confirmed the death of Mrs. Darline and Mr. Feral Canterberry, my grandparents. My mother fell to her knees, breaking out into tears. I soon followed behind, startling my unsuspecting parents. My mom crawled over to me and wrapped me in a tight embrace as I bawled my eyes out.

After that night everything started going downhill. My father grew into a deep depression that eventually lead into a drinking problem. I could never fall asleep at night without crying my eyes out for a half an hour first, unless I had my mom by my side. She held it together better than all of us.

With every passing day things only got harder. My dad eventually got fired from his job. He had a lot of trouble finding another, and when he finally did we had to move all the way across country. We bought an apartment and moved in some of the stuff from our previous house. Our new home was nothing like the other. It was cheap since my father was trying to save money. When I entered the dingy looking apartment a musky smell swept pass my nose. I wasn't used to this kind of environment. I spent the previous nine years of my life growing up in a clean, beautiful home. This one definitely had mold, not to mention the neighbors were loud. My room had a much better layout this time around though, so it wasn't a complete loss. Even so, I couldn't sleep properly the first couple of nights. I felt uneasy sleeping in an unknown space.