~Rules~ -Keep it under 100 slides (who would do that XD?) - No violence (a little is ok) -Respect everyone's stories! -favorite this if you want to enter so i can get more entries ~DUE WHEN I GET 20 ENTRIES~ Either put your story in the project or in the instructions! HERE IS WHAT YOU MUST PUT Name of story: Genre: Please no fanfic!
STORY IS MUCH EASIER to READ IN PROJECT!!!! Anyways, I put it here to: “No, Teresa. No, I’m sorry.” Tears stung my eyes as my dad’s words hit me like a truck. He wouldn’t take me to the party. And not just any party-THE party. All the popular kids were going, and they had invited me. This was MY chance. My chance to be something in school, besides a wallflower. “But dad, I NEED to go to that party!! You don’t understand!!” I screamed, and ran out of the kitchen into my room, where I slammed my door behind me. I sat on my bed and held my head in my hands. I stared at my wood floor for about twenty minutes, just thinking. Why wouldn’t he take me? What did it matter to him? He didn’t get bullied everyday. No, he was a grownup and had a normal accounting job, and had no idea what it was like to be me. Just then, I heard a knock on the door. I sighed, and made no move to go and unlock the door. Dad knocked again. Still, I didn’t move. “Teresa Jessica Moore, come and unlock this door now!” “Fine,”I said grumpily, and slowly dragged my feet across the floor towards the door to open it. When I did, I saw dad standing there, his face in a scowl. “Teresa, we are going to sit down together, and you are going to explain to me is so important about this party.” “Fine,” I say again, and follow him to the sitting room. He starts off: “Teresa, I just don’t understand why this is so important? I mean, you know these kids aren’t any good. “No, dad,” I try to explain, getting frustrated by the confused look he has, and the way the words won’t sound the way I want them to. “You know, Mom would have let me go, without a whole ordeal!!” At that remark his eyes fill, and I feel mine do as well. I run out again, out the door, to the sidewalk, and start walking away. Then running. As far and as fast as my legs will take me. “Teresa,” I hear him faintly call. “Teresa!!” But I ignore him, and keep going. “One more step. That’s it. Just one more.” I tell myself. Finally, I have to take a break from running. I keel over, and throw up. Again and again and again. It takes several minutes for me to stop. I feel rotten inside. Not only did I use the ultimate insult on my poor dad-that mom would have let me, but I left him behind, and I’m lost. I sit for about five minutes, feeling sorry for myself, when I hear a car pull up. I look in, and it’s my dad. “Teresa!! Thank god, I was so worried!!” He looks dead serious. I see tears start up in his eyes-for the tenth time that day. Then he his expression changes a bit, and I can tell he’s hiding a smile. “You know, Teresa, you might want to go out for track. You ran, let me see, five miles in under twenty minutes.” I manage a half grin, and it son turns into a rueful smile. “Sorry, dad,” I say and jump in, and hug him. He smiles, and says “You know, T, I’ve thought about it, and you can go to the party!” “Yay!!!” I shriek, and hug him even harder. So I go to the party. And I enjoy myself. But I learn that my dad is even better then them when it comes to friendship, hide and seek, playtime and fun. He’s all I need. Together, we’ve gotten over my mom’s death. And, best of all, he’s my friend. We know longer hate each other, instead, we comfort each other in each other's sorrows, and live in each other’s joy.
