“Something is Different” by Before the Wind

As I writer I have learned so much this semester in creative writing. I have gone from writing very boring, cookie cutter essays to elaborate stories. I always was a writer who followed the formatting outline but now I am not afraid to stray away from traditional formatting. Which I think will be a very important skill to have later in life because no one is going to want to enjoy reading something that is written the exact same way as 90 other students. I have learned how to make my overall messages more subtle which makes my writing seem more mature. I think that I have improved my writing tremendously this semester!

I really enjoy the original piece “The Boy Was Happy” , it was a piece that I spent a lot of time working on the imagery for it. I felt like when I read the story I was taken to the baseball fields and time had frozen, and I was enjoying myself. I chose to do a follow up piece, like a flash forward to when the boy has grown up into a man. I think this new piece represents quite literally how I have matured as a writer. Since the piece goes from the point of view of a young boy to a more mature man, it kind of symbolize my growth as a writer. “Something is Different” is a honest, reflection of how things can change when you grow up doing the same thing all the time.


“Something is Different”

         He was never one for cliches, in fact he hated that he was one. He is the boy from the small town that no one has ever heard of, to small to be on any map. The boy who loved baseball so much, and his favorite day of the year is the day they got to go to the baseball game. Since his family never had much money they could only afford to go to one game a year, but that never mattered because that one day gave him something to look forward too.

He hates that he now practically lives at the baseball field. The field is his home, but it isn’t the same sense of belonging he felt when he was a kid. Now it feels like the small town that he worked so hard to get out of.

He wants to stop, he wants to quit. He can’t though because he fears what his parents will think. They gave up so much to help him reach his outlandish dreams. When he got his contract with the team his parents were probably more excited than he was. He can only imagine the horrified looks on their face when he tells them that he doesn’t want to renew his contract.

As he sits in a seat all the way up in the stadium, the seat that he use to sit in as a little kid.He wonders what went wrong. How did it end up like this, were he doesn’t mind if he doesn’t play or he doesn’t care if they win. As a little kid he loved everything about the baseball park, the game of course, but also the way the air smelled. The smell of hotdogs and cotton candy. He even use to like the way the chairs were hard to pull down because of the layers of gum that has solidified on the hinges. Or the way it always seemed to be about ten degrees hotter inside the stadium. Or the way strangers were always rubbing against you, or the way you become friends with those strangers.

Now it’s strangers wanting to take pictures and congratulate you on a job well done. Or fans from the other team yelling at you and telling you how horrible of a player you are. He never was one to let that get to him, but now it seems like every word is like a dagger to the heart. Each word pushes the dagger a little deeper into his heart, and now it threatening to completely shatter his heart. He knows that he can’t continue to play because his love for this sport will soon turn to hate.

He knows that he has to answer them soon, and he can’t continue to keep them waiting. He struggles with the thought of having to tell his parents, he will feel so guilty if he throws away what they all gave up so much for. Maybe he can teach himself to love the sport again. Yet again can you teach yourself to love something.

He pulled out his phone with such reluctancy that is seemed as though someone else was in control of his arm. As he dialed the number the time between each click of the numbers increased as if he was trying to give himself time to back out of it. He knew what he had to do, and hopefully it won’t turn out as bad. As he hung up the phone, he sauntered out of the stadium with his head hanging low. He walked out of the stadium and to his car, knowing that his decision has been made and there is no going back now.

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