A Story by Naomi Bloom

The beginnings of a story about a girl named Laura Brunswick.


Laura pushed open the school doors, the first one out of school on a Friday.  

At first she walked quickly, her backpack barely hanging on by a strap, but then Laura grabbed the other strap and pulled it over her shoulder, breaking into a run.  That was how Laura got home day by day.  She ran.  Running was familiar, fun and free.  So was sprinting.  But today Laura Lilian Brunswick ran even faster than any other day of the year.  She grinned from ear to ear, accelerating.  Hair flying behind her like a kite, she met the stares of the other kids.  Frowning, they turned their heads away from her, hoping she wouldn’t say hi to them.  People would think they were friends.  Laura ignored the other preteens, only thinking about Jonny.  

Jonny wasn’t a boyfriend or even a friend. No.  Jonny was her dad; the best dad in the world.  And he was going to be home for once from the shoelace factory in Thunder Bay.  Daddy was always so far away.  Why did he have to LIVE there?  Why couldn’t he just work there?  Laura pulled back tears as she remembered the day mom and dad got divorced.  

Recognizing her small red house, she slowed and strolled down the sidewalk splitting her house’s overgrown lawn, carefully stepping on each crack separating squares of sidewalk.  She rang the doorbell, pressing the button about twenty times.  Laura waited, bouncing and beaming.  The door squeaked open, and Laura waited, breathless, but excited.  

Jonny wasn’t behind the door.  Instead, it was Anne, her mother.  Laura was crushed.  She sighed and trudged down the hallway past her mother, who ran after her, offering hugs and conversation.  Laura avoided her mother’s lunges and tried to turn on the TV, as her mother retreated to the kitchen.  Old Halloween specials.  In March.  She turned off the bottom right button on the TV and the cartoons were gone.  

Marching out of the kitchen, her mom brought donuts in a red and brown Tim Hortons box; Boston Crème, Sprinkles, Chocolate Dip, Maple.  

“Worked overtime today so I got somem’re free donuts.  Have some �" yur choice,” her mother smiled gently, no sign of dishonesty.

“Mom, I thought you said dad had the day off today,” Laura frowned, “Didn’t he?”

“No, he’s needed.  Have a donut.  It’ll cheer you up,” she insisted.

Frustrated, Laura said, “I don’t want one.  I’m sick of donuts.  I want daddy!!!”

“Laura, calm down,” her mother croaked, suddenly getting serious, “Why didn’t che get a friend to walk ye home today?”

Laura shrugged.

“Well bring one tummara.  If you don’t, yure not goinna school.  You need someone...”

“With you all the time,” Laura finished, “I know!”

With that, Laura darted up the stairs.  Downstairs, Anne pulled back into the kitchen, her sanctuary and her prison.

Laura ran her hand down the scratched, beige walls as she walked to her room.  On the way she could see her brothers Max and Ray fighting.  Ray had his huge hand pushed into Max’s face and Max was grabbing Ray’s arms.  Suddenly, Max kicked Ray’s abdomen, which flipped them both onto Max’s bed.  Wrestling and squirming, they were interrupted by Laura:  “Where’s Gary?”

Surprised by the voice, Ray’s hand released Max’s face.  Max turned his head to the left and answered “Off with d-”

Of course, Ray, the older brother, put his hand over Max’s mouth and lied, “Football practice.”

Laura sighed, “He’s with dad,” and stormed to her room.

The boys tried to convince Laura that Gary was at football practice, but Laura was already safe in her room. 

Suddenly realizing what they had been doing before, the brothers went back to fighting.

Behind closed doors Laura unearthed her History Binder from her backpack and grabbed several Encyclopedias from under her bed.  They were Dad’s, but she considered it her responsibility to guard them.  They were ten times safer in her room than her mother’s.  Sitting cross-legged, the nucleus of her cluttered room, she began to read…


Later that day Laura stood by the window in her living room, peering outside through the curtains.  

She felt a surge of excitement and a jump from her heart as a brown car approached her house.  Letting out a groan, Laura watched the car roll down the road into the distance.  

Car after car went and Laura started counting all the brown cars she saw. 

“Four… Five… …. Six… Seven…  Seven brown cars that I don’t know… Eight… Nine..”

The ninth brown car pulled into the driveway.  Immediately, Laura knew the two silhouettes were Dad and Gary.  She leapt to her feet and ran to the door, her mom beating her there by mere seconds.  

Anne opened the door and meant to say, “Jonny.  Nice t’see you’re taking Gary on outings.  Where’d you two go?” 

What she really said was more like, “Jon-” for Laura ravenously pushed her aside to get to Jonny, bear hugging him as well as a twelve-year-old could.

Jonny grunted, “Hey Lil.”

Laura’s fierce eyes turned soft and eager as they looked up at Jonny.

As she let go, Laura shouted, “Guess what?”


“I made cross country!”

“Good girl!  Y’know, I was on the cross-country team when I was your age.”

Laura smiled knowingly.  Bemused, Jonny looked at Anne and asked, “So… what’s for dinner?”

“Fish sticks, toast and cabbage.”

“Mmmm…” Jonny licked his lips, “We’ll talk later Lil’.  I’m hungry.”

Laura pranced after her dad, but bumped into Gary.

“Hi Lil’.  Guess you didn’t see me. Dad’s white heavenly glow was so bright, right?”

“Don’t call me Lil’!  You’ll call me Laura.  Tell me what you were doing with dad.”

“Make me.” Gary sneered, “Why are you in dad favourite team?  You’re sucking up, aren’t you?”

“Bite me.”

© 2013 Naomi Bloom

Author's Note

Naomi Bloom
The beginnings of a story about a girl named Laura Brunswick; not by any means complete. I'm not really sure where I was going with this since I wrote it in high school.

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Added on February 7, 2013
Last Updated on February 7, 2013
Tags: brunswick, naomi bloom, story, short story, prose, fiction, beginning, sample, incomplete, school, backpack, dad, father, parent, daughter, mother, brothers, thunder bay, love, clinging, admiration


Naomi Bloom
Naomi Bloom

Ontario, Canada

An amateur writer of poems, short stories and other types of writing. I recently graduated from university and I am trying to figure out what to do with my life. Victorian England, name meanings, be.. more..

Drowning Drowning

A Poem by Naomi Bloom