Ava walked down the street, cutting off at the RiteAid it cross at the light. This light was always slow. She pulled out her phone, playing some of her playlists on shuffle, her pink headphones worn old from years of use, good memories. She looked back at the RiteAid, a sudden memory flooding her mind. She recalled something of extreme insignificance;
"Can I get this one, daddy?" She picked up the small plastic packaged toy.
"Yeah, just choose one." He agreed.
"Thank you, daddy!" She hugged the tall man.
She would never let go of the passion her dad had fueled.
Ava looked up, just to see the light change to green, blaring its loud annoying voice telling people to walk. She kept walking, abandoning her original plan. Why had she even decided to go into this stupid area? It had been years already, couldn't she just get over it yet? Ava hadn't even realized where she was headed, until she looked up, right at the wrong moment again, it would seem. She stopped and stared at the big brown house in front of her. Another dead memory came back to her, this time a little more detailed:
"Hey, Maizee!" the girl greeted as her friend opened the door.
"Did you bring them?" Maizee pressed her friend once the door was closed.
"Heck yeah, I did!" Ava opened her suitcase quickly, revealing her whole collection of LPS.
"I call dibs on this one!" Maizee shouted, grabbing her favorite one of Ava's collection.
This time tears formed in Ava's eyes. She quickly whipped them away, almost as if she was whipping away the painful memory of her childhood friend. She continued down the street, wishing she really hadn't come there in the first place. She told herself to stop, but her body didn't listen. As she walked, more and more images of the past revived themselves at the familiar surroundings, each one more painful than the last. Her legs finally stopped when they reached their destination. She looked up and down the small house, recalling the most powerful memories of all. The house that started it all, the collection, the creativity, the stories, the art, the photography, the videos, everything. The place that started her. There was just one thing missing;
"Remember, dad?" tears streamed down her face, why did he leave?
YOU ARE READING
Writing Journal Prompts
RandomThis is just a random book full of my practiced writing prompts. Some have a theme,some are fanfiction, some are random scrambles of information. This has no specific schedule.
