Behold! I have posted my first narration.

Behold! I have posted my first narration.
I’m here because our son lost one of his friends and we’re trying to figure out how to find her.
Where has Lucy gone?
Our son wants someone to play with!
He awakes.
He awakes in bed.
He awakes in bed, confused.
But he shouldn’t be.
A deal, is a deal.
The bed is on the ceiling, and now, he is finally wide awake; staring at the floor through the locks of his long hair. They hang heavy, damp with something viscous dripping downward. Downward with the pull of gravity. He tosses his head around from where he dangles to rearrange the mop of sodden curls away from his eyes.
1.
You were supposed to be a doctor. If you’re raised by two doctors, you’re also supposed to be a doctor because that is their plan. You would graduate high school and attend some prestigious medical school and they would pay for it and everyone would be happy. Well, you didn’t want that. You always wanted to write. Imagine their disappointment when you told them.
The first time I saw one, I was seven. That was the night the neighbor-girl Cindy died. We were friends.
It was summertime and the marsh was foggy and the frogs were all going at once, making an awful racket with their obnoxious noises.