There was no door to my bedroom, just one to the outside and one to the rest of the house at the top of the stairs. I both hated this space and loved it. I could crank my stereo up and no one would care, I could peruse National Geographic pictures of bare breasted tribes women, and drink Drambuie from my dad’s wet bar, not my choice but it was there. I was twelve and hated the world, accept for Heather, when I invited her over I would stand inside the hollow walls of my basement bedroom and watch her for a little bit through a hole in the wall, she was beautiful and she knew it.
Vote for this Short Story
Voting Status
Countdown to 500
492
votes remaining
- 20 Votes – Manuscript evaluation completed by curator with editorial comments
- 25 Votes – Publishing contract offer
- 200 Votes – Eligibility for a reader newsletter feature
- 500 Votes – Eligibility for a double royalty
*More than 25 votes are not needed, but are encouraged, and will earn you additional benefits