When Helen was 16 she came home pregnant, 3 months after the baby was born it dissapeared, and soon later another child. So she decided to adopt, thinking that she was going mad and never had the babies in the first place.
And yes everyone else thought she was crazy, thinking she had a baby. What obsurbity it was. Though still she searched, and she found nothing, it broke her heart for her to loose another baby, she wondered where to, and why, but this time it was final.
The records didn't even show that child existed, somehow she had thought all of these children up, all 7 of them, even the ones she adopted. Thus she had given up. Slumping into her brown leather sofa she switched on the television and gave into sleep, which so often consumed her. A place where she could exist with her children, where life was good.
Johnathon screamed in frustration, yet again Manchester United had beaten (and might I say completely polverised) his beloved Arsenal.
"This cannot be happening!" John shouted at the screen. "Come on all my money is riding on this game!" John threw a beer can at the screen in frustration.
Gambling had never been his best sport, if he had tried he could have been in his beloved team, and not watching them from a blurry screened £30 television, but John never did have high ambitions.
When asked in school what he wanted to be he replied "I wan't to never have to work a day in my life!" Some loser huh? Though John did get what he wanted for a short while. In 1994 he won the lottery at the age of 18 but now it is 2007 and he is 29 with no wife, no kids, no money. Only his flies to keep him company. What a meaningless existance for a man who could have been anything he wanted too. Too late now though, his time has passed.
John gave up, in 48 hours everything around him would be gone and a cardboard box would be his home. Thus is the life of someone who doesnt try.
[[[Ok this is just a short story if you want to read more you'll have to comment ^.^ Nya~]]]