Wattpad Story?

Hey there friendly person…I hope.

So remember how I said I wanted to post a Wattpad Story?

Here’s the really boring cheesy prolog. I should warn you that I really, honestly, am not very good at this type of writing. However, I decided I needed to get out of my shell, and go ahead and throw myself out there, after all, a resolution, right?

So anyways, apologies for any poor grammar, or sloppy wording. I put it through editing twice, but I’m not very good at editing my own work.

Also, to follow the story if it peeks your interest, MentallyHaziWords on Wattpad.

Stay Ginchy,

HaziWords

I’ve pretty much maneuvered the halls of this church since the day I could walk. It’s encrypted in my memory like the first time I lost my tooth. For the first time in my life, it actually seems different, perhaps it’s the fact that I now have a name that people know, or it could be the terrifying factor that none of the bathrooms are clean, and I really, really have to go. Why can’t people figure out how to use toilets? We’ve had toilet’s since 1500 AD, even if it was just a bucket with a velvet seat.
“Could I scoot past you?” I asked some ladies, who were currently seated in some chairs blocking the path to what might be the only clean bathroom in the place.
A tall man in a black-and-white suit came up beside me just I as I tried to jump the seats. “I’m sorry Miss, those bathrooms are off limits.”
Why are those off limits, but the ones that I can use have windows in the gosh darn stalls, or people couldn’t-
“Millie, Millie wake up.” Mom’s voiced pulled me out of my terrifying nightmare.
“What time is it?” I groaned, trying to wrestle the covers my legs were tangled in.
“It’s about time for you to be getting ready for school.” Mom coaxed, helping me unravel my self from my prison-like cocoon.
I rolled out of bed, my feet hitting the carpeted floor-which somehow miraculously managed to freeze me to death despite the alleged padding and insulation carpet may have.
This aspect did not help my bathroom dilemma. I stopped and turned to my mom, who was sitting on my bed, bags under her usually-bright green eyes. Her greying brown hair was ragged mess.
“Don’t you work this morning?” I asked, tipping my head as she held out my glasses. I grabbed them out of her hand, and shoved them on my face.
She smiled weakly. “I just got home. My boss let me come in a bit later today. The client we had last night was…a night owl.”
My mom works at a Local Creamery, where she does PA work. It pays a decent amount, but never enough to support us or our medical needs. It’s why she has another job working at a consignment shop, but even with that, it takes a lot of scrimping to get the usual human needs.
“And a morning owl too, I see. I’m hitting the bathroom.”
“Oh, sweet heart, you can’t.” Mom shook her head, her face turning into a frown.
“Has it developed a window that faces a parking lot or something?” I asked making my way toward the door. “No,  love, I was a bit late on the water bill…the water’s been shut off.”