No Turning Back | Teen Ink

No Turning Back

May 5, 2021
By Lydiaq ELITE, Somonauk, Illinois
Lydiaq ELITE, Somonauk, Illinois
179 articles 54 photos 1026 comments

Favorite Quote:
The universe must be a teenage girl. So much darkness, so many stars.<br /> --me


Greenie Addams huddled under the railroad bridge in an ugly, unfamiliar city. The light blinked in the thick-falling snow. People in their cars were going places—to casinos, movie theaters, where they would forget their trials. For Greenie, the snow falling on her head whispered No turning back. And she was shivering in her thin shoes.

            From her earlier days, Greenie had one wish: JOY. Joy was her mother’s thick curly hair cascading down her shoulders, how the room filled with sunshine when she laughed. Joy was her father coming home from work, swinging her in his arms like a clock, saying, “How is Little Starshine today?” Joy was sofa-cushion battles with her older brothers whom she pretended to hate. Joy was a dolly tea party, a backyard sprinkler, rainbows dancing on the green lawn, the ice cream truck’s song, swim goggles, snow angels, her very first attempt at writing—GOOD TIMES.

            Then came the shadows, the whispers and worried looks, the piles of unpaid bills, the fighting and horrid shouting matches between her beloved parents. How could Greenie understand?

            That her mother refused to eat for weeks on end—wore baggy sweaters, jogged constantly, lied, and listened to lies. That she landed in and out of mental hospitals when the voices got too loud inside her, like the TV when you can’t find the remote to drown out the screeching. All that came crashing on Greenie’s dad when he lost his job and the family got reduced to rags. One day Greenie’s brother Sammy wrecked his bike, and when he came to school all bruised and banged up, the teacher looked at his woebegone appearance and decided to call DCFS. People in black clothing, like funeral home people, knocked on her door. Greenie went one last time to her beloved pink room, kissed her dolls goodbye, and started packing her suitcase. She got sent to a foster home in Chicago, her two brothers to Detroit.

            But three months later, Greenie decided she’d had enough and made a run for freedom—one black and starless night.

            She never dreamed freedom could be so cold and snowy. So very lonesome…


The author's comments:

The name Greenie is so rare and cool I just had to use it; but I wrote a happier story about a character with this name I hope u can see. This is only a writing exercise.


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This article has 4 comments.


on Jul. 25 2021 at 1:26 pm
Crazywolfiegirl2 PLATINUM, Kington, Other
26 articles 3 photos 284 comments

Favorite Quote:
There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature—the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter. —Rachel Carson

Hey, this is great!

on May. 13 2021 at 7:06 pm
SparrowSun ELITE, X, Vermont
200 articles 23 photos 1053 comments

Favorite Quote:
"It Will Be Good." (complicated semi-spiritual emotional story.)<br /> <br /> "Upon his bench the pieces lay<br /> As if an artwork on display<br /> Of gears and hands<br /> And wire-thin bands<br /> That glisten in dim candle play." -Janice T., Clockwork[love that poem, dont know why, im not steampunk]

great!

Lydiaq ELITE said...
on May. 13 2021 at 2:26 pm
Lydiaq ELITE, Somonauk, Illinois
179 articles 54 photos 1026 comments

Favorite Quote:
The universe must be a teenage girl. So much darkness, so many stars.<br /> --me

I ll post it and see if it gets accepted

on May. 13 2021 at 1:28 pm
SparrowSun ELITE, X, Vermont
200 articles 23 photos 1053 comments

Favorite Quote:
"It Will Be Good." (complicated semi-spiritual emotional story.)<br /> <br /> "Upon his bench the pieces lay<br /> As if an artwork on display<br /> Of gears and hands<br /> And wire-thin bands<br /> That glisten in dim candle play." -Janice T., Clockwork[love that poem, dont know why, im not steampunk]

wheres the happy story?
i tried to write a happy short story. it didntwork.