Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> Avenged Sevenfold >> Shattered By Broken Dreams
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I was sitting out on my surf board taking in the California sunshine with all that it had to offer.
I was finally here after my mom had us started packing four months ago. I caught the sweetest waves,
which I hadn't done for a while seeing as how we hadn't made a trip down the shore to go surfing in
New Jersey recently. I sighed looking around me; people covered the beaches, the pier jutted out
into the sea as if it was meant to be there. I smiled, content with everything going on around.
Then, it was as if the skies had opened up just then and the rain began to pour from the sky, the
waves became unruly as I was shoved from side to side gripping tightly to my surf board.
“Viviana!” I heard my mother's voice in the distance, I looked out to the shore but saw
no one. My movements became frantic as I tried to paddle as hard as I could until I looked behind
me. A wave, at least 12 feet high was about to come crashing down upon me. I wrapped my legs and
arms tightly around my surfboard and began praying as hard as I could.
“Viviana Marietta Santoro, WAKE UP!” My mother screeched in her thick Italian accent. I
opened my eyes to realize I had a death grip on my pillow as I lay across the back seat of our car.
“We're finally to the new house.” She said rolling her eyes at me and getting out.
I sat up and looked out the window. The house that stared back at me was nothing like the place we
lived at back in Brooklyn. I wasn't use to having a yard, a porch, or even one house number on the
outside of the building. It was rather exciting, seeing our new house for the first time. It was
different than some of the others on the street but it was ours. I let a grin spread across my face
and opened the door quickly and ran to the front porch. My mother was already barking orders,
lovingly, at Giovanni, my older brother.
“Here is the master bedroom, and then your bedroom Gio, the kitchen, a washroom. Viviana, your
room is the stairs if you'd like to go see it dear.” My mother looked over at me still
standing in the door way. I nodded my head and made my way up the stairs, there was a bathroom,
closet, study and then, finally, I made it to my room. I had a tri-pane window that greeted me as
soon as I walked in. I couldn't help but smile.
“My own room. . .” I whispered walking around it a little bit and pushing boxes off to
the side. I heard a squeal come from my mother and I could only assume that Stephan, her on and off
boyfriend oh excuse me, fianc?, was here now. The entire point of us moving to California was
because he wanted us to be closer to him as he transferred out to Orange County. I just shook my
head and opened a box labeled paint and took out all of the supplies I bought back in New York ready
to make this room my own.
About 45 minutes into my painting there was a knock on my door and I looked over to see my brother
leaning against the door frame. He just shook his head at me.
“What is the point in painting your walls if you're just going to stick posters up all over
the place?” He had a valid point. There was no way, even though my mother insisted, that I was
going to part with all of the posters and concert tickets I had gathered while living in the City. I
just shrugged at his question and continued painting the walls a deep wine red color. Gio and I,
though four years apart, were very close. We were the only family each other had other than our mom
here in the states. “You want me to start hanging your clothes?” He asked pointing to
the closet door and the boxes marked clothes.
“That would be awesome.” I smiled at him as he opened the box before waiting on my
answer. “How do you feel about having to switch schools at the start of your senior
year?” I rolled my paint brush in the pan and paused for a moment looking over at him. He
raised an eyebrow at me after opening a box and picking my clothes out of it, already on the hanger.
“What? I figured it'd be easier to just leave them all on the hangers and pack them in the
He chuckled. “We're in California, I'm a senior, I'm making a new start and I'm going to enjoy
it. How about you my little freshie, are you ready?”
I shook my head. We were already 3 weeks late for school and those first three weeks were probably a
crucial part of my academic career here in Huntington. “It won't be that bad Marietta!”
My brother assured me by laughing at my face.
“I was prepared to start school back in Brooklyn with my friends. I know absolutely no one
here. You know how terrifying that is?” I groaned and quickly finished painting the wall.
“Why couldn't mom have waited another year before moving us out here?”
My brother broke down the boxes and walked out of the closet. “Because you would say the same
thing every single time, why not wait another year mom? Why can't we stay in Brooklyn for just a
while longer? But hurry up; we're going to register for school today so we can start on
“Furniture is here!” Stephan called from down stairs.
I looked at Gio and we both had a sudden understanding of each other. Our mother had Stephan now,
and we had each other. No matter how hard it was going to be to begin with, California was now our
AN: I have not written a story in about 4 years now and this is my sad attempt at trying to get back
into it. I hope that it will tickle your fancy and you'll enjoy reading and leaving me small
comments; critical or encouraging. I'll be posting more as soon as I can figure out where I saved my
next files at. Love you all dearly, thanks for reading. Sorry it is so short dears. Let me know if
you're interested in reading this story.
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The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.
Please see the Terms of Service for more information.