a short story

[Destin]

Hi ihr Nach ewiger Zeit und ich weiß nicht wie vielen Jahren ohne eine einzige Geschichte geschrieben zu haben, melde ich mich doch mal wieder. Vorhin hat es mich gepackt und ich habe einfach mal wieder zu schreiben angefangen und habe bis zum Ende durchgeschrieben. Ich habe mich mal in Englisch versucht und es wäre super, wenn hier jemand rumwuselt, der da auch mal einen grammatikalisch kritischen Blick drauf werfen könnte Ich hoffe es haben sich nicht so viele und arg dumme Fehler eingeschlichen und dass meine short story vielleicht irgendjemanden hier anspricht. Viel Spaß beim Lesen!
LG
Edit: Nach dreistündigem Schreiben der Geschichte war ich zunächst zufrieden damit. Jetzt, nach dem zweiten Mal lesen und Korrigieren kleinerer Schreibfehler, finde ich meine Geschichte gar nicht mehr so gut. Das Schreiben macht mir meistens mehr Spaß als das Lesen Hoffe trotzdem auf Rückmeldung.


a short story

Hey guys! My name is Jule. I'm from Germany, but I decided to write this short story in English.
If you ask yourself now „Why, when she's from germany, would she prefer writing in English instead of using her own language?“: Well, that's a pretty adequate question to ask. But I can't answer it. Honestly, I don't really know. And I don't know, if my story will be understandable to you. I didn't write straight As in English class or even in German class in school, actually I didn't write straight Bs neither. But I have the feeling that English will fit my story better than my native language could ever do.

My life is not special at all. It seems really normal, what sometimes can be a quite good thing.
I'm 22 years old, next month it will be the beginning of the 24th year for me living in this world. I'm an average girl. I'm not very tall, I'm slender, I have brown shoulder-long hair and I dress in an average style. I spent a happy childhood and had a sheltered youth. Life is easy for me.

After I graduated, it took half of a year for me, to think about what I'd be going to do know with my life and which opportunity of all opening up to me I should take. In summer it was decided that I would study law in a city about four hours of train ride away from home. So I got my stuff together, moved in a single apartment in a dormitory and started study law like my father did. I found friends, hung around with them and had my first exams written. Everything went fine. But after about one and a half year of studying, I got a bit bored. The state examination seemed so far away and insecure and I began missing home. I quit studying, moved back in with my parents and it took me another year to decide anew what to do next. I always liked biology, even I wasn't that good in nature sciences and worried a bit about how studying biology would work out. But I decided to go for that nevertheless and now I'm in my first year visiting the college (the second time) and studying biology.
As to my family: I have a normal father and a normal mother, happily married, a brother three years younger than me, who started studying last year, too. We even have a little dog, that counts as a family member, too. We live together in a detached house, in an ordinary city, with a big garden. I can call several nice people my friends. They are all different, they are all important to me and I like going out with them, having a good time, talk to them (wheather on the phone or not), doing stuff that people in my age do. Every Wednesday morning, I'll have breakfast with one of the girls and skip a lecture for that and every now and then, I just like being by myself, reading or watching television or go shopping.
Then, there's Marek, who happens to be my boyfriend for one month and 5 days now. He's great. He 's friendly, polite, ambitious, caring, funny and generous. We see each other at least once a weak, see new places, meet with some of my friends or go to the cinema. And if we don't, we just stay in my room watching movies, talking, kissing, making plans for the holidays. Such wonderfully normal things I do.
At the moment it's semester break and I have to learn for my exams. One of them I'll have to do again, because I failed last time.
After the last exam will be done, I'll be getting the keys for my own little apartment in a dormitory, where a fellow student of me lives.
This means no parental control, no dispensable rules, a friend next door, staying at parties as long as I want to, because home will be always within reach. Furthermore it means eating when and what I feel like eating, grooming when I think it's necceassary and, very alleviative, no justifications at all. And I'll be on my own, whenever I want to be.
In one sentence: I'll be in control of everything.

So this is what my life looks like. And I mean it this way....“what it looks like“.
As you will take a closer look, you'll recognize that there are large cracks in the facade of my little house build of hollow words, just inattentively plastered over.

As I'm sure you know, every person has it's scars hidden on his inside. Probably there is not one person in the whole world that hasn't have its heart broken by somebody, that hasn't been loosing a loved one or something like that. Everybody has its pain, all of us.
I have scars, too. But the little thing different from most of the people is that they didn't stay just on the inside, but they show up on the outside, too.
And by this point I think I will have to tell my short story again and more honest this time, in case of you being one of them who don't take their eyes off the truth. I hope you'll understand that my short story won't be that short this time and probably no fun to read.

My life is somehow special. Most of the time, I'm longing for a normal life with all of my soul. I'm 22 years old, next month it will be one year less I will have to live in this world. I'm considered an average girl. I'm comparatively small. People say I'm slender, but I feel really fat. I have brown shoulder-long hair that I always have to watch over so that I won't cut it off when I'm desperate or in rage. I dress in an average style, but I always wear long sleeved tops to prevent the scars from being seen. I spent a basically happy childhood, but I didn't like being a teenager. Life isn't easy for me.

After having graduated, I didn't have any clue what to do with my life. It was very hard for me and I lost six month considering the rare opportunities I saw because of me being like I was. I thought studying law would confront me with the fewest difficulties I didn't feel able to stand. Because of the circumstances I acceptet a college place in a city about four hours of train ride away from home. So I got my stuff together, moved into a single apartment in a dormitory and started study law like my father did. I found some people I had problems to call my friends, but we hung around whenever I was able to participate. Then I managed somehow to write my first exams. I think it was the worst time of my life. After about one and a half year I couldn' take it anymore. I panicked, I was depreessed and things went to a point where I was so messed up, I couldn't even leave my apartment and was just sitting on my bed, shivering and waiting for my father to pick me up.
I had the choice either to get committed myself to an institution or to go to a psychiatric day hospital. I chose the last option and I stayed at hospital for more than three month. It was so exhausting. It took one year to make me halfway what I use to call viable and I felt the compression of external and even more internal expectations again, to start a new try concerning education. I felt better and even made some real friends. Despite all of my massive and often unreasonable and exaggerated worries, I decided to study nevertheless and now I'm in my first year visiting the college (the second time) and studying biology.
As to my family: I live with my parents and younger brother in a detached house, in an ordinary city, with a big garden. We even have a little dog, that counts as a family member, too and often was the only living thing that I felt close to. The time when I was so bad, my parent's nerves often were on edge, to remain mute about my state of mind. We had massive problems, the whole situation was on the verge of totally and irrevocably escalating several times. Now my parents accept me a lot better and I keep quite about what is going on in my head and in my heart mostly. My family doesn't know that much about my eating issues and of course they know absolutely nothing about me hurting myself. These are things I talk about with my friend I know through the hospital on the phone at night. We often talk when one of us feels bad and this most of the time and I pretend to have breakfast with her every Wednesday morning. In fact I'm seeing my therapist and have to skip a lecture for that. I try to meet my friends on a regular basis to keep myself from isolating and getting depressive again. To make life easier. But every now and then I need time for myself, which I spend reading, watching tv, writing in the eating disorder- and problemboard where I am registered or just thinking things over, being my secret self for a while and in the evening sometimes hurting myself.
Then, there's Marek, who happens to be my boyfriend for one month and 5 days now. I still sometimes can't believe, how I took myself right into a relation ship. To be fair, he's great. He 's friendly, polite, ambitious, caring, funny and generous. I don't deserve him and he deserves someone better than me. We see each other at least once a weak, what often puts me under stress. We see new places, meet with some of my friends or go to the cinema. Because when we don't, we could run out of topics or end up doing things I don't like to do, like kissing. Such things are not really after my fancy, what makes me an even more awkward person. Sometimes we make plans for the holidays, but honestly I really don't feel up to that, but I'm not telling him. He knows so little of my secret self. He doesn't know about my scars. Neither about the invisible ones, nor about the visible. And he doesn't know that I'm not in love with him. Being in love is dangerous and I even don't think I could fall in love at all. There are so many unspoken things floating around me like wasts of mist covering me from being seen clearly.
At the moment it's semester break and I have to learn for my exams. But instead of doing so, I'm writing this story to you and watch the time running away from me quickly, what makes me mad at me. One of the exams I'll have to do again, because I failed last time. I feel like a total failure and I'm scared that the upcoming exams and the next semester won't prove me wrong.
After the last exam will be done, I'll be getting the keys for my own little apartment in a dormitory, where a fellow student of me lives.
This means no parental control (what could in my case lead to unhealthy behaviour), no safety giving rules, a friend next door, having to go to more parties than I want to, because a place to sleep will be always within reach, so there's no excuse to skip things like that anymore. Furthermore it means eating when and what I feel like eating, what's not always a good thing, because it could happen that I eat too much unhealthy things or sometimes too little at all. It means having to groom when I think it's necceassary and when I find the time to do so. And I'll be on my own, even when I don't want to be.
In one sentence: I'll be in charge of everything and I'm so afraid to lose control.

So, as you can see,“just“ living a normal life can be paradise.