The first sentence of a book always hit you the hardest. And perhaps the best explanation for that was that you’ve always been fascinated with beginnings. You’ve always craved novelty, ached for unfamiliarity — and as for the rest of the story? Well, middles were often mediocre, barring the climax, of course. And then at the end, you would be met with another goodbye — another once thrilling story left to rot, wasting away in the afterglow.

And like many stories do, yours began there too, as luck would have it. At the beginning.

Before you could even comprehend what it all meant, your mother would start the morning by reading you a chapter from whatever book she had laying around at the given time. When asked why she took the time to read …show more content…
And of course, you wouldn’t revisit the book until your freshman year of high school, but the first words in the novel felt familiar as they made their way from your eyes, to your brain, to your heart. “When he was nearly thirteen, my brother Jem got his arm badly broken at the elbow.” Unlike other novels you’d read in class, the first sentence wasn’t particularly dramatic or enticing. It wasn’t “Call me Ishmael” or “I am an invisible man.” It was a gentle truth — the truth that sometimes, the beginning wasn’t the most interesting part of the story. And in turn, it was the first book that truly held your attention from start to finish. It was the first time that you felt a love for books the same way your mother always …show more content…
You were a teen obsessed with trying everything, experiencing the world in every way you could, and no words written in a novel — no matter how impactful — were enough to quench your thirst for adventure. And though your search for new beginnings often benefitted you, you were also met with the pitfalls of inconsistency. Being taken seriously didn’t come easily for someone so fickle. And getting into a good college with the grades of someone with varied energy levels? Well, that was a challenge as well.

It was also the middle of your story so far, and like most middles you’ve experienced, it was grueling to get through. Your mother never had much in terms of wealth — though if love were currency, you could’ve paid for college 50 times over — and your dad? Well, when he did come around, helping you and your sister wasn’t exactly priority. And so, you had to rely on government funding for school, a measly few thousand and just enough to pay tuition at your local community college, leaving you to find a way to purchase books and supplies on your