My First Short Story!

So I am taking a Creative Writing course as an English elective this semester. I'm pretty excited about it! I've always wanted to write, and would do so but just bs here and there. Well our first assignment was to write a creative non-fiction piece

1.)Creative nonfiction (also known as literary or narrative nonfiction) is a genre of writing that uses literary styles and techniques to create factually accurate narratives. Creative nonfiction contrasts with other nonfiction, such as technical writing or journalism, which is also rooted in accurate fact, but is not primarily written in service to its craft.

Now that that's out of the way, let me introduce my piece =)
I wrote this from a very honest place- VERY honest- you'll see. Dont judge... and let me add that Mason is the best thing that has EVER happened to me, but this is where I was at this naive time in my life.

Oh yea, if you didn't know; when you write creatively grammar isn't always used the way we learned in grade school but rather as a tool. So the way it's structured, I meant for it to be that way. Ok Ok I'll stop rambling,

Here it Goes Ahhhh!!!

Title: A Positive Negative

Usually a positive is… well, positive. I’ve never wished for something negative more in my life until this very moment. Still in disbelief, I administered four more tests to be completely… positive. First thought that came to mind was, “How am I going to tell my parents?” I come from an Asian family with traditional values. You know you’re not ready to be a parent when you’re scared to tell your own parents! Hell, I was only twenty-two still feeling my way around through life, not trying to create life. I am about to be responsible for an entire being, a soul, a heartbeat, a brain! Where was my brain? My palms grew sweaty. I became light headed. I felt my stomach drop into my asshole, and I was on the verge of either fainting or vomiting. “So is this what morning sickness feels like?” I took a deep breath and tried to pull it together. I gazed into the bathroom mirror looking past my physical self, but rather into myself. I saw nothing but panic, fright, confusion, and disgust. “How did this happen?” Well I knew how it happened but how could I let it. I’ve never done this much soul searching in the bathroom in my entire life. The most thought that took place here was while I was on the toilet in the mornings trying to decide whether I should have oatmeal or cereal for breakfast. “Breathe. Just Breathe.” I had three options; become a mother, adoption, or abortion. Adoption: carry around this person for nine whole months then just hand it over like a turkey I’ve been warming in the oven for another family to enjoy. My dad was adopted and despised his mother for many years for it. I’d be a quitter, a failure, despicable in his eyes. Abortion: Wow… now that’s a scary thought. It’s sort of messed up to kill something that I, myself created. Well some scientists say it’s not technically murder. But in the small chance that there is some Big man upstairs tallying up all of our sins and waiting on our big judgment day, do I really want to add this to my already seemingly long list of transgressions? Ding! Ding! Ding! We have a winner, he’s a keeper!!

            The next step seemed harder to do than make the previous life altering decision: Telling my mother. I held out. For two months. Which felt like forever. Mothers have a special power and can sense when something isn’t right but I couldn’t wait any longer. This was the moment. “Mom I have to tell you something.” “I knew it,” she said “I could tell something’s wrong.” There was the longest pause as we sat on the bed looking at one another. Each second felt like an eternity. My palms started to sweat and that feeling came back again: where I couldn’t tell if I were about to vomit or faint. “Dammit! Must be that damn morning sickness!” I opened my mouth with every intention to just confess. Just say it! But no matter how hard I tried, the words “Mom I am pregnant,” wouldn’t dare roll off my tongue in the presence of my mother. I just sat there, clammy, red, scared, and befuddled studdering like a flaming idiot. This was the beginning of the most painful, now hilarious, guessing game. “Samantha.” she said while holding my hands and looking me deep in the eyes as if she could telepathically figure out my secret “Tell me. I am your mother.” Tears began to uncontrollably stream down my face. I knew that at that very moment, it would be the last time that she looked at me as her innocent child. “Are you in trouble?” she asked. Which besides from the truth was probably the most rational guess she made that entire night. My mother watches too much Lifetime movies and Korean dramas. She asked questions like, “Are you getting kicked out of school? Are you addicted to crack cocaine? Heroin? Alcohol? Did you beat somebody up? You didn’t kill someone… did you? You stole something? Are you sleeping with someone’s husband? Are you getting locked up in jail?” Didn’t I tell you she watches too much tv? The “Are you pregnant” question was the very last. I held my head down in shame with tears and snot pouring out of my face and onto the blankets, slowly nodding yes. My mother placed her hand on her chest and took a few deep breaths. Her eyes raced around the room as she was trying to figure out what just happened and take it all in. She placed her hand on mine and calmly said, “Everything will be okay.” I’m sure the guessing game played in my favor. I think my mom was just relieved I wasn’t a heroin addict or a murderer.

Hope Yall enjoyed it! & Yes this is non-fiction! It really did happen this way!! Lol

I'll have more pieces to post coming soon!!