May McDonald's Tale

May McDonald is a sweet, intelligent, and caring vegetarian girl who lives in a quaint stone cottage in Scotland. She has one deaf brother named Leo Peter, some chickens, five cats, two dogs, and some mice. But when May's OCD takes a form that threatens her well-being, and Leo's deafness causes him to shut down and stay in his room, May is forced to deal with this new stress - and the way she chooses is memorable. NOTE: This was one of the first stories I wrote on Qfeast, so I did this when I was 11. That's why it's not that good of a story. I just wanted to publish it, though, because eh, some parts (SOME PARTS, not ALL PARTS) are well written, and you guys can all have a good laugh about how bad it is.

published on March 08, 201613 reads 5 readers 0 not completed
Chapter 1.

A Scottish Dream

I was ten years old when my mother first told me that I was Scottish. We were living in Maine at the time, and I was too upset with school to think about my heritage. I remember I was sitting at our wooden table, boiling myself into a pile of steaming coals over an IXL assignment. My mom was next to me, grading her students' papers.
"Honey?" She said, softly. "I have a surprise for you."
I looked up, excitedly, hoping that she'd take out a laptop or maybe a kitten. But she just bit her lip and asked a question. "Can you do your Scottish accent?"
See, I'm really good at accents. I can do British, Scottish, Irish, Italian, French, Spanish, Arabian, and stereotypical Asian. But my mom never took much interest. So I sighed and put down my pencil. "Ya? Is this what ye want me to do, lass?" I said, all the while speaking in a thick Scottish accent. My mom smiled and nodded.
"May, my surprise comes in a few parts. The first part is the news that you have Scottish heritage." she told me. My mouth dropped open.
"Seriously?" I asked, and when she nodded, I pumped my fist into the air. "Awesome!" I said, grinning.
"That's not all..." she whispered. She then reached into her pocket and fished around in there for a while before handing me a rectangular piece of card stock with a scored edge. I gasped.
"We... we're going to Scotland?" I squealed. She nodded. "Oh my God!" I began running around in circles, my face stretched so tight in a smile that I was worried it'd split in half.
"Well... not really going." My mom said matter-of-factly. "We're moving there."
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