Ruby was six when her mom and dad were killed. She was playing with the old doll she found on the streets. Her family never had any money to buy her fancy things, toys or pretty dresses. But she didn't mind. She's never known anything else. The house she lived in was barely bigger than what would be your room. The kitchen and living room was all in one room. Her mother and father slept on the floor, while Ruby slept on the old, hard, dirty couch. But sometimes, she couldn't stand it, and she would sleep on the ground and have her parents sleep on the couch instead. She could hardly call it a home.
She loved the library though. She would rather live in the library, surrounded completely by piles and piles of books, inhaling the smell of the old wrinkly pages, and savouring the sound as pages turned. It was a small library, and not all of the books are in top condition, but it was the only place where she felt safe. Where she felt she could escape. She's read tons and tons of books. Her favourites were adventures. She liked to escape, as far as she could inside her mind. Books allowed her to do that. Sometimes, she would lose herself in a book and lose track of time. That's how she spent her life. She read and read and read and learned and learned, even when she moved to live with her aunt and uncle.
When she turned 14, Ruby decided she wanted to make a change in this world. She wanted to save lives. So she worked as hard as she could in high school, and got accepted into
Harvard law school. She now is married, has two kids a boy Henry and a girl Alice, and now they live happily in Seattle, where Ruby continues to fight for change.
Of course, this whole story is made up. It was just a story I made up because I was in need of writing inspiration, but who's to say someone hasn't gone through this? I hope you enjoyed this short piece of prose. I was way overdue in terms of writing. I haven't had any time to write lately, so uh, yeah. Tell me what you think.
