This is what I started at work but never finished & probably never will.
Do you think I should give up writing?
The light was blinding, searing through a crack in the wall. Peyton was motionless on the three blankets she laid out to sleep on the night before. She squinted a bit at the light stabbing into her eyes. She inched her eyes open to welcome the new day & sighed loudly. She didn’t want to be awake. Awake meant that she was aware of everything going on around her; the sad parts & the happy parts.
She stretched; legs & feet feeling ten thousand miles away from the rest of her, & felt a cold chill run through her body. She felt something nibbling her toes & sprang up to see a small rat scamper away. Peyton blinked rapidly, & felt a shiver run up & down her spine. Jumping to her feet, she ran toward the door tripping herself in the tangled mess of blankets laying on the floor. The fall seemed to take forever as she soared through the air smacking into the floor; nose first. She lay there, nose planted into the floor, paralyzed with unbearable pain searing through her face that brought on a string of tears.
Peyton inhaled a deep breath of air & exhaled as she sat up slowly & felt something drip down her top lip. She glanced down at the dark wooded floor, covered in white papers, & noticed a drop of blood laying still beneath her thigh. She ran her finger tips across her nose, pulled her hand away from her face & stared down at it in awe of the streak of blood that smeared her fingers.
Gripping her sleeve between her thumb & first finger she wiped her nose, looking around as if someone was looking at her. With the other hand she wiped underneath her glasses that was still crooked on her face & got to her feet. She quietly walked out of the room, almost tiptoeing, as she approached a staircase that sat in the middle of this old abandoned building.
Peyton stood at the top of the stair case glancing around at the building. It was once one of the most beautiful buildings in Seattle with its large windows lined in white marble, table tops of made of glass, chandeliers hanging with 321 bulbs shining brightly, & now it’s just a pile of heap that is rank with the smell of cat piss & baby vomit. The windows were boarded up with dilapidated two by fours, nailed in with rusty screws. A couple boards hanging towards the floor, squeaking as the wind blew throughout the building.
That’s all I wrote.