I am writing a story on Wattpad

I Truly Wrote This

Hey everyone, I’ve been trying to write a novel. I was planning to sell it on amazon when I’m finished, but I changed my mind and decided to write on Wattpad to get an audience and the opinions of others.

The book is called My Life by Xita. Right now, I’m obsessed with the name Xita, not like Bieber fever, anyway the name means “rain” in Maltese.

This is a story is about a girl Xita as she tells the story of her life as an illegitimate child resulting from her mother being raped at 17. She’s despised by her mates, looked upon as a disease. Life becomes difficult and complicated as she continues and decisions are hard to make. What will she do when she finds out that there is one person that loves her other than her mom? What will she do when her biological father makes a sudden reappearance begging for her to forgive him? Will she forgive him? He raped her mother, and ruined her childhood and adolescence.

You can read the book on Wattpad. Click here to read

Excerpt of the first chapter:

I was choking from the gut-wrenching and putrid smell oozing from the dark room.

“Do you want some painkiller mom?”

“Uh” she moans and throws up again, and I rush to the kitchen cabinet to get some ibuprofen. Thirty minutes later, I’m in the kitchen hurrying to make some eggs and oatmeal for breakfast. I take a tray to my mom’s room, and set it on her bedside table. I quickly gulp my breakfast and set off for the road. I have to walk really fast to be able to make the first train to 1st avenue so that I will have enough time to walk to school. I walk as fast as my weak legs can carry me because I had stood for too long cleaning up the mess my mom made. I sometimes run. I reach the station as the train door was about to be closed. I walk to the front seat in the train. For some reason everybody avoided the front while I avoided the back. I didn’t want to be a bait to those tired, angry, and hungry people. I pushed myself to the edge of the seat, even though someone two times of me can fit on the seat, and I look out the window as the train moves. I stop at 1st avenue and begin my slow scared walk to school.

This is how my morning starts; clean up my drunken mom’s mess, sometimes make breakfast if there’s anything to eat, catch the first train to 1st avenue, and walk to school as slow as I can because I do not want to be the first student to be in school.

Going to school was my own physical hell that I kept going back to. The teachers were mean, and the students called me names. As I went to my locker to get my books for my second hell, someone mistook a step and hit me, causing me to fall down heavily on my butt, and my books went in two directions. I looked up at the boy that caused me to fall expecting him to give me a helping hand, instead he said, “um I’m…,” and reached out his hand, and I also reached out mine, but he stopped halfway and said

“I can’t touch you.”

He ran down the hallway leaving me on the cold tiled floor with my hand still in the air. I dropped my hand and crawled to pick my books, and I used the lockers as support to stand up. I walked slowly to my next hell with my head in my neck in shame. I felt like a disease as everybody stared at me. Continue on Wattpad.

Note: I am writing this book in series, and I will try to update regularly. I might also post some stuff related to it here.

Again click to read.

 

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