ekoutrakos
Just a girl, trying to find her way.♡☆
? Hey!?
Welcome to my fancy thread!!
Below are different plot points, centered around the same small town.
Cause, isn’t it funny that as you’re reading this, someone else is having a birthday? Or as you’re doing laundry someone else is dying?
Funny. The world, the universe is just a funny place.
Anyway, here goes;
-I play female oc’s, sorry guys. I can do my best to double yet no promises. Welcome to my fancy thread!!
Below are different plot points, centered around the same small town.
Cause, isn’t it funny that as you’re reading this, someone else is having a birthday? Or as you’re doing laundry someone else is dying?
Funny. The world, the universe is just a funny place.
Anyway, here goes;
-Not a grammar Nazi, yet I expect a basic understanding.
-I’m 22, I expect to write with someone whose at least 18.
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-ROMANCE tends to happen, it’s something I crave in my stories, unless it’s already discussed otherwise.
-Long term stories, with lots of writing is something I also crave.
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Clarksville, is a small town in Upstate New York. It has about 2,000 people total. 3 bars, 2 restaurants fill up the Main Street, along with a large chain of grocery store. The town has run, mostly on migrating families coming through on vacations, and the railroads. Clarksville is a farming town, at least it used to be, on the outer banks of town away from the hustle of suburbia life lies, cow pastures and large red barns.
She’d lived here basically her whole life,and never in her life had imagined telling anyone she was gay/is gay. Those things just don’t bother coming up, not in conversation, not across from granny at the church Sunday dinner. No, nobody needed to actually know how she felt. Not until, well not until she fell in love. Love is hard as a normal person, how about being a closeted gay girl in a small jaded community? When does she, tell the world? Tell her family, oh and god how!?
”Ma’am we do really need to talk about your husbands options from here on out..” said the doctor, looking over her shoulder as she sat very still in the stiff hospital chair. Her husband, her world was now, being admitted into surgery. Brain surgery, if he made it out alive the surgery would change him. The doctors say/said his hair would grow back, his life would move on. But he’d forget his life, his memories..he’d forget her. The young lady, pulled herself from the ugly chair as she nodded following behind the doctor. The tall man led her down to a white painted hallway leading her down to a conference hall. The door, squeaking as she found another ugly chair to sit into. “We’ll miss..” she barely listened, her body numb as she chewed into her bottom lip, lost, confused..
He’s much older. Some would say, old enough to bed her father. Yet, they’ve been seeing eachother in secret for months, weeks. His laugh, his smile all of it has enticed her, the stories he has to share, the memories the two make. Is it really so wrong that he’s married? Is it really wrong, that they have such a large gap? Is it all really wrong?
He’s been a cop for the last 10 years just recently being moved to detective. He’s great at it, keeping his childhood trauma has become easy, or so he believes. He’s got a great life, a wife, family hell even a picket fence and a damn dog. Yet, he can’t fight the urge to kill, can’t fight the urge to want to keep his wife to just himself, he can’t fight his urges.
