A book lay open  in a pair of pale hands its pages rustling in the wind as a page turned every other minute. The soft grainy texture was something that every true reader became addicted to. Sharp edged pages that few would daringly run their fingers across mindless of the accumilating paper cuts. Hard back or soft, both were blessings to be held at the fingertips.

With a grunt of annoyance I slapped the turning pages back into place and glared at the sky.

"Troublesome wind. Always interfering with my reading."
I squinted my eyes  from the glaring sunlight before returning to read by book,blining my eyes to adjust my retinas.

Long strands of brown hair whipped with the wind  and to my ire,several slipped past my lips.

I absent mindedly swiped at my face trying to pry the few strands of hair from my lips. After a few moments, my annoyance rose until finally I dropped my book and scowled in frustration.

"Why does my hair always end up in places that it is not wanted?"
I began to spit desperatly trying to rid my mouth of the hair that irked me to no end. I hated how it would wrap around my teeth and stick on my tongue.

With a small grimace I wiped my tongue off with the palm of my hand.

I stared at my hand in disgust before cleaning it off in the grass.

I had been trying to avoid doing that. 
It really put a damper on my high spirits. Now I would have to emerge into my story once more.

And it was just getting good too!

I eagerly returned to my book,instantly forgetting the world around me.

Grass tickled my bare skin as I lay in my backyard hiding from my nagging mother.

I doubted that my peace would last but I would take what little moments I could.

"Abigail," cried my mother drawing me out of my state of calm serenity.
"Come taste the food and tell me if it's good."

It was as I had predicted.

I placed my book down in a huff knowing that my moment was broken.

I stalked my way into the house my pace faster than normal and my jaw clenched in irritation.

Why was it always me that she wanted at her very beckoning?

Was it because I was the oldest of my siblings?

Probably.

"So how is it?"

She asked as she shoved food down my throat.

I glowered down at her as I rolled the food around on my taste buds.

"Bland," I answered her with a shrug.

Her red brows furrowed.

"What should I add? Pepper"
She asked running over to the spice cabinet.

I sighed and placed my hand over my face.

"Pepper does not solve everything mom.Try adding some garlic salt instead."

My mom shook her head. "It can't have to much sodium. You have a habit of making your food over salty."

I stared at her. "You make your either too bland or spicey so ha!"

She smacked me upside the head in a motherly tap.

"Behave. So garlic?"

"Yup."

"Are you sure I have more cheese to add to the sauce if that would help?"

"Yes mom I'm sure."
I sighed slightly making sure she couldn't hear me.

Thankfully she was preoccupied by the cheese sauce in front of her as she vigoroulsy poured in spices and whisked away.

I stepped backwards with a grin on my face, and slipped back outside happy to be away from my mother.

She tried her hardest but she nagged a bit too much. What had she been doing before I came along? No one to taste her food oh dear. I feel bad for my poor dad. Nah ever mind. He probably loved the attention she gave him.

I returned to my book and immediately sank against the tree.

My eyes immediately began to scan for were I had last left off reading and smiled when I found it.

The words began to flow through me,arranging themselves into images and a different life.

Each and every one was different from the last. A never ending array of imaginative plots and worlds.

My mind ran through possible scenarios,fitting pieces of the puzzle together. Before long I was able to predict how the book would end.

I had read to many books in my lifetime that it was rare to find a book  with an unexpected plot twist.
That's why I had recently begun to dream of writing my own story. It couldn't be that hard right?

Millions of ideas would swarm within my head as I would stop to re-read a certain sentence. All of a sudden my mind would be flooded with plot,worlds,lives and ideas to write.

They were never ending and honestly,it scared me .

It was crazy how my brain worked. It was unpredictable and I had no idea how it would act.

Thankfully no one had ever questioned my sanity.

I closed my book as I was oft to do, and continued to daydream of another fictional world. I smiled gidddily as I stood.

I wanted to start writing.

And I was going to begin as soon as I could.

"Abigail! Dinner!"

Screeched my mother causing me to wince at her loud voice.

It seemed that my writing would have to wait.

I entered my house and quietly sat down at our oak table.

My two younger sisters, Madelyn and Gracie, were already shoving their mouths full of food whilst laughing rambunctiously.

Typical Maddy and Gracie moment.

I glanced down at my food then at my dad.

He usually had the best taste in food and if he approved,then all was good.

He was currently stabbing at his food, spearing a few macaroni noodles with his fork, his eyes darting around to see if anyone else had something of interest to eat.

I grinned. Code for dad,'It's not bad but don't make it again.'

He poured a generous amount of hot sauce onto his plate and before taking another bite.

I shivered slightly. I hated hot food. It always burned my mouth causing flames to literally lick the insides of my gut and mouth.

It was an unpleasant sensation that I could do without.

I took a taste test of the food on my plate for wrinkling my nose.

Even with my advice the food was missing something.

I eyed the salt container before pouring a 'pinch of salt' onto my food.

Ever seen Food Network? Yeah I poured that much onto my plate.

I began to dig into my food and eyed my family quietly listening to their conversations.

My sisters were jabbering on about some creeper messaging them on their Instagram and Facebook.

I smirked around my food. It was a known fact that if you posted pictures of yourself people would hit on you whether you liked it 0r not.

That's why I didn't bother with social networks. They were highly over rated and troublesome.