Chaos: (Remastered 2022 Edition.) The 1st Novel in The Evolution Universe

~Chapter 2: Parker~

Ever since I was about thirteen-years-old I always had the dream of writing the perfect lines to the perfect story. I always had a great attention-grabbing start, but as it is with most young inexperienced writers their once-great idea begins to fade away midway through the first draft. It's a term, to nearly every writer, as writer's block. To me, it's called the time when I want to beat my head against a brick wall till I break through the block, or at the very least hit my head hard enough to make it where my writer's curse of having a thousand ideas a day of possible story arcs disappeared from my mind altogether. Neither ever happens.
Whether it's that I can't find that certain piece of vital evidence that links the killer to their victims, or I simply can't figure out my next chapter to keep the flow of my book going. No matter the reason the block always manages to surface out of the blue and always at the wrong time. Whether they're a novelist, journalist, or just simply write for their eyes only; all writers have experienced the block. If they tell you they haven't then they have the greatest gift in the world, a no-borders imagination; or they're straight lying to you. We all get it. It's our curse.
The authors that are worth millions finish their stories as they push past the wall in their mind. Of course, there are other contributing factors in their success, but if they never pushed past the mental block the book would've never been finished and they would for sure not be a successful writer.
Until, December 12th, 2015, I was one of the authors who always got stonewalled by the psychological wall.
On that day, in December, I found the perfect story. The words just began to fly onto the page just as easily as the words processed in my brain. I thought I would never accomplish my dream of finishing a book. That day changed everything. It changed my whole life and not in the way I expected it to.
It's said that by the time a writer finishes their first draft they will hate the work they've done. By the time publishing talks come around they are sick of looking at their words. Just one little hiccup in your typical route to becoming a published author. Well, more like a big hiccup. My work will never see a publishing deal. It will never be read by another pair of eyes. It will never see a bookshelf. It will never have a spine or a cover surrounding it. Publishing books just don't happen anymore. Not since that day. A lot of things no longer exist since that day.
Once I found the perfect story the words just flew straight onto the page just as easy as they popped into my head. I thought I would have never accomplished my dream. Now, most writer's dream of having their perfect masterpiece published one day. Unfortunately, my work will never be published.
It's not because I don't have confidence in my work. I have plenty of that for an entire room of writers. It's not because I don't want to be published. It's because my work will never leave a notebook. It will always be on pen and paper. It will never see a computer screen. It's because publishers don't exist anymore. Books don't exist anymore. The world will forever be lost from the imagination. Not because we had a choice in the matter. That right was taken from us. Taken against our will. Stripped from us forever.
My work also will never be published because it's an autobiography and the last pages will not be written until my heart stops beating. It's no ordinary autobiography either. My book is about my life since that dreadful December day in 2015. Not only did my life change that day, but the whole world did. Well, at least, to my knowledge the Eastern and Midwestern parts of the United States. There was talk on the news about other countries dealing with the same situation before the electricity went out for good. So, there's nothing to this point that has shown me otherwise to convince me that the whole world isn't like this. I'm sure there are other survivors left. I just haven't found any that are still around. To me, it doesn't make a difference if there is or not. When the world went into chaos it changed people. Some step up to the occasion and others brought out the worst parts of humanity. I tend to stick to myself these days for that exact reason. The Universe isn't what it once was. It's a much darker and cruel place now. For that reason, I'm better on my own. Unless I find someone I know and trust.
I know you must be confused. I tend to do that a lot even in my writing. I like to jump into the middle of a story and expect my readers to catch on in a blink of the eye. I always forget the backstory. The part that led me to the good gory parts. I apologize. So, let me take a second to breathe. To slow down and take you back to where all stories start... The beginning. My beginning started one-hundred forty-eight days, twenty-three hours, thirty-two minutes, and ten seconds ago on that blistering cold day in December.

Hello, there. What are your thoughts of the second chapter of Chaos. Are you still intrigued as to what's going on? Was it a good chapter in your opinion? Please, let me know your thoughts good or bad. And if you did like the chapter please don't forget to vote on the chapter. Thank you, from Your Favorite Neighborhood Wattpad Author, R.E.Schofield.