so I wrote this for the lend a helping hand thing.... it's a story about helping others, i don't know how long it will be, it wasn't meant to be long, but once I started writing i have all these ideas and I think it can be really interesting and fun to read :)))
So vote comment and tell me what you think :)))
it would mean a lot
I'm liking how lately i am discovering other places i can write.. Like different genres and what not
******************************************
Chapter 1
God it was freezing.
This late in November it was always freezing, but it never failed to surprise me just how cold it could actually be or make me wish I had chosen to move to sunny Florida when my parents had four years ago.
I looked out the window of my car. Chicago looked like a city of ice and as unappealing as the glass of carrot juice I had left un-drunken on my kitchen counter. Outside the wind flurried with speckles of frost that fell to the ground like soft feather like pedals falling from the sky. It's been a straight week and the snow continued to add fresh frothy whiteness to the mounds covering the ground.
I wrapped my jacket as tightly as the fabric would pull against my skin and covered my nose under the thick scarf wound around my neck keeping as much of the cold off my skin as I could.
I thought of the heater in my car and how toasty I had been. It was only a five minute walk from my car to the shelter I volunteered at every Tuesday, but it was seemingly the longest five minutes I had ever spent walking anywhere.
Was it wrong to hate Tuesdays nights?
Maybe, probably... it was just so damn cold and sometimes dealing with the underprivileged was hard. Every Tuesday for the past eight years I had volunteered at the East Calvary homeless shelter. I prepped the meals, set up the dining hall and got the bunks ready for the night.
I had been doing this ever since my senior year of high school. It started off as something to make me look good on college apps, but soon became a weekly part of my routine and something I really enjoyed.
There were so many people out there. Each with a different story, different struggle. Whether it was problems, addiction or in some cases just very bad luck in life, I wanted to help in any way I could.
So did I really hate Tuesdays?
No, not really. It gave me my good in the world.
I just hated the five minute walk out in the cold.
The steps of the rusty colored brick building looked welcoming as I raced up the slippery stairs before pushing through the heavy double wide wooden doors. Inside the heat greeted the tip of my nose and the scent of tomato sauce cooking in the kitchen filled the room.
I shrugged out of my coat and hung it on the rack next to the door. When I peeled my beanie off my head powdery snow fell from my hair and shoulders.
"Hey Nicky, you just get here?" it was Sam; he ran the homeless shelter and among his many qualities, he was also extremeley handsome. Sam would treat a stranger the same as he would hes own family and was a true saint to the community. When he shot me one of his adoring smiles, revealing the dimple on his right cheek I felt my chest grow warm.
Did I mention I had a tiny little crush on him? Well I did. It was hard not to. He was so handsome with his shaggy blond hair and chestnut colored eyes. He had the kind of face that just made you want to smile.
