Famous First Line Stories

If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth. My simple story has a beginning and I’m just going to tell it to you, plain and simple.

My name is Paulina Alexandria Marie Helena Westbrook the III. If you can tell from my name, my family is very southern and very traditional. I, on the other hand, view my name as an idiom. I am a trial to my mother that wakes up every day just to haunt her. I run and play with my other siblings, but they don’t get in any trouble. I guess it’s because my mother has such high hopes for me, being the only girl and all, but seriously, I think I was born the wrong gender, no joke.

Back to my story, it was the day of the county fair. I was expected to enter in my best apple pie, since that’s what “women of society” are expected to do. So, with a prayer to bless my pie that nobody would die from digesting it, I dropped it off to the main judge to be placed on the table. Quickly I skipped away so that I could get in a game of baseball with the local boys before I was caught by my mother.

Long story short, I ended up starting a riot on the field. A couple of boys decided to chase me, and I ran like the wind. I thought that if I met up with my mother, she would get these boys to stop chasing me. I ran to the pie stand, racing to get there before they got me.

The thing is, I saw my mother and those boys did too, but they didn’t stop running after me. I ran right in front of the announcer who was crowning the winning pie. As he bent to pick it up, my foot hit the leg of the table.

R.I.P the pies and my mother’s sanity.