I used to write about characters all of the time. I used to be able to pull them down from the ether and tell their stories, and I truly believe this is a part of what made me love writing and what separated me from other writers and made me my own thing. I need to reach the ether again. I’ll start trying now…
Kaitlyn Kapshaw
When she sees ads begging people to move to Ohio, she thinks about Cleveland. She thinks about the small house she lived in with her mother in Glenwillow after her father left and before Stan. She thinks about the way she used to love hanging out with the boys at Andy’s and eating ice cream and smiling and kissing all the handsome boys. She remembers how fun it was not to care about anything. She remembers thinking about going to college and how amazing it would be to meet other girls who thought and felt the same way she did about life.
She knew liars even then. She knew girls and guys alike who would hug you and talk to you like they were your best friend and then, later, share a cigarette with another person and talk shit after every exhale. She knew girls who made up stories about her; about what it meant when she kissed the boys and say that she did other things with them. This was before she even wanted to do those things, mind you. The wanting came after the doing, but that was her fault, mostly. She thought about that too when she thought about Ohio.
Still, she missed the state. It home where Phoenix could never be. Phoenix was hot but emotionally cold. The people were distant; her campus a small city of strangers who had none of the interests she’d hoped for when she left home.