Thursday, August 12, 2010

What do you think of this Story?

PREFACE





I focused on nothing but the rheumatic pattern of my breathing. In and out. Inhale and exhale. I was vastly petrified. He walked toward me with a shady smile on his face. I awaited agony and pain.


There was no warmth or bliss. The caring features vanished and turned into harsh, cold structures. How terribly I grieved to be safe in his arms. In his arms. I knew that he was gone as much as I knew that this would be hurtful. He took a step forward balancing all of his weight on one foot and smiled in the way that made me cringe, then, he lunged.












































Chapter One


Acquaintance





Sixteen.


Perfect age, right. Wrong. This is when everything starts to change. Especially for me. Feelings are more sensitive. Sensitive. I really wished that word didn’t exist. It hurts. I used to be sensitive.


But, that was before I knew. Before I knew the truth. We’ll get to that later.





I just moved from Florida. Let me say this again. Florida to an old, deserted Indian town called Bear Claw. Yeah, Bear Claw. Doesn’t it just welcome you. How much I long to be back in Florida with Carol. We had it great in Florida. Beaching it every day. We were inseparable. Many people don’t get to have that kind of relationship with their sisters. Then Dad had to step into the perfect picture. It’s like he just took the picture, ripped it into tons of little pieces, threw it on the ground, and stomped on it.


Dad thought that it would be great if I spent a little time with him and Grandpapa Frank. After Mom died I do have to say that I’ve been moping, but I was doing just fine with Carol. Now, I’m moping more than ever.





“C’mon Maria, it’s not gonna be that bad! You’ll have fun! Meet some new people, you need to have some fun. You’ve been so…..” my Dad paused at that, “so…….mopey.”


“I’ve not been mopey!” I shouted. I think that I shouted a little too sharply.


“Get in the car.” he said. I had said it too sharply. My Dad and I were on our way to my new school. The first day of school. Maybe school would be sanctuary. Maybe Dad wouldn’t be around every corner offering me cookies and milk and comforting and those dreaded bear hugs. Maybe, just maybe I could find some real friends. Friends that weren’t in my immediate family or were from the animal race.





I reached for the radio button, but he touched the back of my hand, signaling that he wasn’t in the mood. Or I had made him too angry.


We drove past some trees and dusty buildings. My dad really did live in a dump. We passed so many shattered things. Imagine a ghost town and it was worse than that. One of the log cabins that we passed, we stopped at. It was really little. One door that was on the side and two or three windows on the back. I wondered why not in the front. Were they trying to keep the sunlight out?


I was awoken from my thought from a deep, husky voice.


“Well, hello! Long time no see! I’ve been waiting to see you since you was a little young’un.” it said.


The windows were so tinted that I had to roll down my window to get a look. I reached for the handle and twisted it downward. There stood an old man, he was much shorter than I was. In fact, he was probably shorter than a seven or an eight year old. Then I noticed why, he was in a wheelchair.


“What’s this young’un’s name again Bill?” he asked my Dad.


My dad smiled at me and then at the old man. “It’s Maria Dad.”


“Dad?” I asked my Father.


“Honey, this is your Grandpapa Frank. You’ll be spending time with him a bit.”


I was so shocked that I didn’t even notice the young looking man that walked up.


“This is my little helper, Nathan.” he smiled. “He helps out a lot around here.”


Nathan smiled and put his hand out. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Maria.” he said. I couldn’t understand why this boy was so peculiar. He spoke normal. He walked normal. He just didn’t look normal. He had dark eyes. Dark eyes. Almost black. Long, black hair put up in a ponytail. He was so big and muscular, you would think that he was an underwear model, instead of a help.


“Well,” he said, “I best be going. I have much more work to do.” He looked straight at me then. Like he was trying to tell me something without physically speaking. “Good day, Maria.” He smiled as he walked off.


“Good day.” I said again. I looked at the clock on the car. Seven fifty-two. “Dad,” I said, now focusing on the more important things. “I’m going to be late!”


“Oh, look at the time. I am so sorry Frank, I have to go now! I’ll see you later. Maria will come by right after school! Won’t you Maria?” Dad said looking at me while he raised his eyebrows. Telling me to say yes.


“Of course I will. Right after school.” I instantly regretted saying it.





We pulled away from the driveway and headed for school. I had so many questions that I wanted to ask Dad. Why was Frank in a wheelchair? Why did Nathan act so weird? Who was Frank? But, I decided not to ask. I would always get the same answer I always got. ‘Save em’ for the Beavers’. It was liable to come up sometime anyway.











We pulled up to it, a school that was supposed to be a school. But it really looked like an old, run down, fit for mice, factory. Or something of the sort.


I opened the door of the truck and walked on the cold uneven pavement-that was supposed to be a sidewalk-to first period. I heard some footsteps behind me. Oh no. I didn’t want Dad to follow me. He did anyway.


“Dad, I don’t need you to walk in with me like I’m some kindergartener. I’m fine on my own.” I said, while turned around completely the other way. Sure enough Dad wasn’t there. Whose steps did I hear. Everyone was already in first period. I ran to class.


I had hoped that I would meet some nice acquaintances and talk some friendly talks. I was wrong. I walked up to Mr. Barren’s class and sat down. When he called my name for roll, he noticed that he didn’t remember the name, so he made me stand up in front of the class and introduce myself.


“H-he-hello. M-my n-name is,” I looked up at the twenty-five kids staring at me with un-amused faces. “m-my n-name is,” and that’s pretty much as far as I got. I’m not good at being in front of people.


“Go ahead,” Mr. Barren told me, getting agitated. “we all want to hear.”


Then, it was all green and more green. If you know what I mean. I felt like I was going to faint-and I did. But I didn’t hit the floor. That was the most peculiar part.


Instead, I was caught by gorgeous arms, which carried me to the nurse’s office.


“Take her to the clinic!” was the last voice that I heard.





After that, I listened to a high pitched, crackly voice-which was actually the nurse’s voice.


“She’s okay, she just fainted. She must not be too great in front of-”


“I’ll take her home.” said a beautiful tone. I thought that it couldn’t even begin to be a voice of a human. It was just too graceful. The voice was like the ocean, like the heaven’s angels. I already loved the voice-even though I had no idea whose it actually belonged to. I figured it was probably the guy with muscular arms that took me to the clinic.


He picked me up with one arm, put me over his shoulder and carried me out the door. Before I knew it, I was at my truck. But, he didn’t even know that what kind of car that I had.


I opened my eyes and saw the most beautiful figure that I ever thought was possible. He had black hair, short cut and shimmering in the sunlight. But, when I looked at him, it wasn’t just his hair shimmering, but his whole body was shimmering in the light. Beautiful eyes, no wait beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it. Picturesque eyes. Gorgeous little things. I saw all of this while in his arms. Remember that I don’t even know this beautiful little devil’s name.


“Is this your car?” he said. I was so drowned in his beauty, he had to say it again, before I could hear him. My ears weren’t in command with my eyes.


“I said, is this your car?” he said again with a smile on his face. He was probably used to all this attention, he seemed to be enjoying it.


“Yes.” I managed to get out of my almost stunned mouth.


“Are you okay.” he turned the corners of his mouth into a smile. (by the way, gorgeous smile)


Here we go again with the-having to say it twice before I noticed that his dazzling mouth said anything with that heaven’s angels voice-thing.


“I think so. How did you know that this was my car?” I asked, puzzled still.


He didn’t answer. I didn’t expect him to.What do you think of this Story?
This is a masterpiece! Marvelous! The plot, base, and events are completly well planned and thoroughly thought out. I have never seen something so.... so.... I don't know a great enough word to describe it! This is the fur of the cat, the cinnamon of the bun! I happen to be writing a book myself, called the Butterfly Bop, so I just know that people will love it! Outstanding! I've never seen more senses put into a story until this! If you are planning to finish and get this published, I wish you luck. Best Wishes, A.S.What do you think of this Story?
wow.
wow!

Read my short story...?

The ringing phone filled her with dread. She glanced down at her brand new Nokia phone, another present given from her dad to “apologize” for a couple smacks on the face, while he was angrily stumbling and shouting around the house drunk. She looked down at the flashing writing on her phone: calling-Dad. Trembling, she took a breath of the icy, cold air and picked up her phone.





“Hello?”


“Honey, please come home. I never meant to hurt you,” said her father.





Enraged, she slammed the lid of her phone shut and tossed it back into her duffel bag. “Never meant to hurt me?” she thought, “Yeah, threatening to kill me and smacking me around, means you never meant to hurt me.”





After hearing her father’s voice, her mind brought her back to the day she ran away from home. She remembered every detail; it was just like any other night. Following the 10 or so bottles of beer, her father would start the verbal abuse, blaming her for everything and for what had happened 4 years ago. He staggered around the house in a daze, shouting ugly things and crashing into the walls. It was all like a routine that happened over and over again, every day of her life. One day, she would be the perfect daughter that he was so proud of, the next day she would be the useless and ungrateful person he hated. The worst part of it all? She was getting used to it. But, something new happened that night. Her father curled up into a ball and gave her a look she had never seen before. It was not the usual look of disappointment and hurt, but a look of complete rage.





“I wish you were never born! She would still be here if it weren’t for you! I wish you were dead instead of her,” he uttered.





Mortified and absolutely stunned of what he had just said, she stood there still like a statue for a mere second, processing what he had just said. Without a word, she grabbed her duffel bag and dashed out of the house, trying to get as far away from him as possible.





But there was one day in her life that she wished she would forget, yet no matter how hard she tried, it seemed to be like a remote control on the permanent replay button. This day was the day her mother had died, the day that her Dad changed from the loving man to the drunk monster she knew as him now, and the day that a part of her own heart died with her mother.





She and her mum were driving to pick up her Dad from the airport. Around only 200 meters away from the airport, the accident that changed her life forever happened. She could still remember the car, a green jeep that was driving at what looked like 1000km per hour towards them. The thing she remembered most was the look on her mum’s face, a look of complete terror the moment before the car hit. It all happened in slow motion, a loud bang and the tremendous force that threw her straight out of her seat. Strangely, she managed to walk away from the wreck with only a couple bruises and cuts on her shaking body. Still in complete shock, she collapsed onto the ground and everything was black.





After living on the streets for about a week, she knew that it was much harder then it looked. Everyday was a battle to find food or shelter, most of the time she had to get on her knees and beg for money, to buy a loaf of bread just to get her through the day. The streets were a forbidding and tough place to live on. The ground was hard and ice-cold to sleep on, so different from her cosy, warm bed at home. Once, nobody gave her any money so, she just had to go without food for 2 whole days. While walking on the streets, she saw her reflection on a glass window in an alleyway. She did not even recognize herself. Her appearance was shocking: stick-like arms like a living skeleton, filthy hands and grimy hair.





I should go home. I am not strong enough to live like this. I won’t be able to do this. I will crumble to pieces. I am too fragile. Too weak. Too delicate. Look at me now. It’s only been a few days and LOOK AT ME. I must go home now. I can’t take any more of this. The only thing that got me through the abuse at home, was the thought that something better must be out there for me. After seeing this world, I just want to go back home. At least at home, not all days were bad. I have no hope out here by myself.





That night, she ended up back home at her front door. She paused for a second before ringing the doorbell, re-thinking things over. Suddenly, a terrifying smash came from inside the house. She peered through the window and saw the reflection of her father’s face. It was the same look he had given her the day she ran away, fury and rage. She remembered why she ran away in the first place, to escape all of this, to escape HIM. Without a sound, she turned her back to the door, and walked back into the scary and lonely world. But, at the same time she realized that she was walking away from him forever.Read my short story...?
I like it!!!





keep up the good work, i was actually considering doing a story quite similar...





=]Read my short story...?
tl;dr
He comits suicide


Serenity


Not bad


A little work to do still, an edit is required


Some, but more varied would be better. need short sentences for action, long for remembering past events


little atmosphere, but it's not required. short stories need to be plot driven


no poetic language and some limited description



I really like it - I kept reading it the whole way through, it really interested me. Try dragging out her return a bit longer, with a few more details, that would increase the climax. Also, put somewhere before the bit where she says 'I should go home' that she's thinking to herself, or after, like .... she thought to herself.





Otherwise I really like it. Keep up the fantastic work!
  • acne scar
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  • Dreads- they're uneven what do i do?

    before i got dreads i had braids that were about shoulder length, i got tired of getting my hair braided every two weeks so i decided to try dreads but everyone said my hair was too long and soft so i cut it short enough so i could get them, (i didn't cut all my hair off just short enough for dreads). now, the only problem was when i cut my hair it was either cut uneven or the dreads were parted uneven, i had my dreads for a lil bit over a year now and they are getting longer but they look uneven and some are skinnier than the rest and some of my friends playfully tease me and say they are growin ';sideways'; lol whateva dat mean but, i don't know i was thinking about cutting them off and starting over, but i don't like how i look with a haircut and i don't think i would be able to get used to it since i had long hair for over 5 years. is their anything i can do to make my dreads look a little better, i know dreads aren';t supposed to be perfect, but i don't want them to be growing ';sideways';Dreads- they're uneven what do i do?
    Dreads are kinda gross... they kill your hair, take them out and use something to help your poor poor hair.

    What do you think of this Story?

    PREFACE





    I focused on nothing but the rheumatic pattern of my breathing. In and out. Inhale and exhale. I was vastly petrified. He walked toward me with a shady smile on his face. I awaited agony and pain.


    There was no warmth or bliss. The caring features vanished and turned into harsh, cold structures. How terribly I grieved to be safe in his arms. In his arms. I knew that he was gone as much as I knew that this would be hurtful. He took a step forward balancing all of his weight on one foot and smiled in the way that made me cringe, then, he lunged.












































    Chapter One


    Acquaintance





    Sixteen.


    Perfect age, right. Wrong. This is when everything starts to change. Especially for me. Feelings are more sensitive. Sensitive. I really wished that word didn’t exist. It hurts. I used to be sensitive.


    But, that was before I knew. Before I knew the truth. We’ll get to that later.





    Now is me dreading to get in the car.


    “C’mon Maria, it’s not gonna be that bad! You’ll have fun! Meet some new people, you need to have some fun. You’ve been so…..” my Dad paused at that, “so…….mopey.”


    “I’ve not been mopey!” I shouted. I think that I shouted a little too sharply.


    “Get in the car.” he said. I had said it too sharply.


    I reached for the radio button, but he touched the back of my hand, signaling that he wasn’t in the mood. Or I had made him too angry.


    We drove past some trees and old buildings. My dad really did live in a dump. We passed so many shattered things. Imagine a ghost town and it was worse than that. One of the log cabins that we passed, we stopped at. It was really little. One door that was on the side and two or three windows on the back. I wondered why not in the front. Were they trying to keep the sunlight out?


    I was awoken from my thought from a deep, husky voice.


    “Well, hello! Long time no see! I’ve been waiting to see you since you was a little young’un.” it said.


    The windows were so tinted that I had to roll down my window to get a look. I reached for the handle and twisted it downward. There stood an old man, he was much shorter than I was. In fact, he was probably shorter than a seven or an eight year old. Then I noticed why, he was in a wheelchair.


    “What’s this young’un’s name again Bill?” he asked my Dad.


    My dad smiled at me and then at the old man. “It’s Maria Dad.”


    “Dad?” I asked my Father.


    “Honey, this is your Grandpapa Frank. You’ll be spending time with him a bit.”


    I was so shocked that I didn’t even notice the young looking man that walked up.


    “This is my little helper, Nathan.” he smiled. “He helps out a lot around here.”


    Nathan smiled and put his hand out. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Maria.” he said. I couldn’t understand why this boy was so peculiar. He spoke normal. He walked normal. He just didn’t look normal. He had dark eyes. Dark eyes. Almost black. Long, black hair put up in a ponytail. He was so big and muscular, you would think that he was an underwear model, instead of a help.


    “Well,” he said, “I best be going. I have much more work to do.” He looked straight at me then. Like he was trying to tell me something without physically speaking. “Good day, Maria.” He smiled as he walked off.


    “Good day.” I said again. I looked at the clock on the car. Seven fifty-two. “Dad,” I said, now focusing on the more important things. “I’m going to be late!”


    “Oh, look at the time. I am so sorry Frank, I have to go now! I’ll see you later. Maria will come by right after school! Won’t you Maria?” Dad said looking at me while he raised his eyebrows. Telling me to say yes.


    “Of course I will. Right after school.” I instantly regretted saying it.





    We pulled away from the driveway and headed for school. I had so many questions that I wanted to ask Dad. Why was Frank in a wheelchair? Why did Nathan act so weird? Who was Frank? But, I decided not to ask. I would always get the same answer I always got. ‘Save em’ for the Beavers’. It was liable to come up sometime anyway.











    We pulled up to it, a school that was supposed to be a school. But it really looked like an old, run down, fit for mice, factory. Or something of the sort.


    I opened the door of the truck and walked on the cold uneven pavement-that was supposed to be a sidewalk-to first period. I heard some footsteps behind me. Oh no. I didn’t want Dad to follow me. He did anyway.


    “Dad, I don’t need you to walk in with me like I’m some kindergartener. I’m fine on my own.” I said, while turned around completely the other way. Sure enough Dad wasn’t there. Whose steps did I hear. Everyone was already in first period. I ran to class.


    I had hoped that I would meet some nice acquaintances and talk some friendly talks. I was wrong. I walked up to Mr. Barren’s class and sat down. When he called my name for roll, he noticed that he didn’t remember the name, so he made me stand up in front of the class and introduce myself.


    “H-he-hello. M-my n-name is,” I looked up at the twenty-five kids staring at me with un-amused faces. “m-my n-name is,” and that’s pretty much as far as I got. I’m not good at being in front of people.


    “Go ahead,” Mr. Barren told me, getting agitated. “we all want to hear.”


    Then, it was all green and more green. If you know what I mean. I felt like I was going to faint-and I did. But I didn’t hit the floor. That was the most peculiar part.


    Instead, I was caught by gorgeous arms, which carried me to the nurse’s office.


    “Take her to the clinic!” was the last voice that I heard.





    After that, I listened to a high pitched, crackly voice-which was actually the nurse’s voice.


    “She’s okay, she just fainted. She must not be too great in front of-”


    “I’ll take her home.” said a beautiful tone. I thought that it couldn’t even begin to be a voice of a human. It was just too graceful. The voice was like the ocean, like the heaven’s angels. I already loved the voice-even though I had no idea whose it actually belonged to. I figured it was probably the guy with muscular arms that took me to the clinic.


    He picked me up with one arm, put me over his shoulder and carried me out the door. Before I knew it, I was at my truck. But, he didn’t even know that what kind of car that I had.


    I opened my eyes and saw the most beautiful figure that I ever thought was possible. He had black hair, short cut and shimmering in the sunlight. But, when I looked at him, it wasn’t just his hair shimmering, but his whole body was shimmering in the light. Beautiful eyes, no wait beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it. Picturesque eyes. Gorgeous little things. I saw all of this while in his arms. Remember that I don’t even know this beautiful little devil’s name.


    “Is this your car?” he said. I was so drowned in his beauty, he had to say it again, before I could hear him. My ears weren’t in command with my eyes.


    “I said, is this your car?” he said again with a smile on his face. He was probably used to all this attention, he seemed to be enjoying it.


    “Yes.” I managed to get out of my almost stunned mouth.


    “Are you okay.” he turned the corners of his mouth into a smile. (by the way, gorgeous smile)


    Here we go again with the-having to say it twice before I noticed that his dazzling mouth said anything with that heaven’s angels voice-thing.


    “I think so. How did you know that this was my car?” I asked, puzzled still.


    He didn’t answer. I didn’t expect him to.What do you think of this Story?
    Your story has strong merit. For me, it is difficult to read through long narratives on this forum, but I did in this case because the tenseness kept building. Good job!





    On the other hand, you need to edit the story a few more times regarding correct use of punctuation--including commas after the line of dialogue and before the tag. Concentrate on punctuation because that seems to be your weakest area.





    Additionally, I recommend eliminating much of the repetitious words or phrases meant for emphasis as is done in street talk. Doing it once, maybe even twice, could be acceptable, but making it a habit causes the reader to build a bad taste in his mouth.





    One item few novice and professional writers are shady about is the use of a comma after the question mark or exclamation point before the ending quotation mark. A comma is inserted in these events when the tag is composed of a participial phrase, an independent clause, or a long independent clause beginning with a coordination conjunction.





    Example: “I said, is this your car?” he said again with a smile on his face.





    Change it by adding the comma immediately after the question mark and before the ending quotation mark, as this:





    ';I said, is this your car?,'; he said again . . .





    Watch the use of common street talk in your narrative. Yes, the story must reflect a personality, but one that writes well.





    Get a copy of ';The Elements of Style'; by Strunk and Williams. That little reference book is a must to have near your keyboard.





    Note: regarding copyright. Your story is automatically copyrighted when you wrote it and placed it in hard-copy form. Plageurism is possible, but doubtful from this forum. Mailing a copy of your manuscript to yourself is not necessary or needful. Print a copy of your manuscript having your name and the date written. That will suffice.What do you think of this Story?
    Thank you, Bella Swan, for selecting my reply as best. I wish you success in your writing and with this story you've posted. Editing is a necessary pain for improving in the skill of writing.

    Report Abuse



    Sorry, I'd rather eat my own flesh with a grapefruit spoon than read all of that.





    What was your question?





    And what the heck is a ';rheumatic pattern';?
    too long
    Wow, very good.....BRAVO !!!!! 2 thumbs up...Need I say more?
    i didn't really understand it until i read i though a few times. But it was really good. You have a gift for writing, use it.
    Sounds really good. I'm guessing yuo've read the Twilight Series, too. I like the story, though. Seem well thought-out so far and just great.
    Just reading the frist paragraph made me sleepy. It was all to pridictable, without originality. what is with the 'young'un'?
    WOW this is really good!!!! Two thumbs up!!!!! Damn this is good
    wow. that was *really* good. but i dont get the preface.... BUT the descriptions were absolutely beautiful, nice job!
    Wow, amazing is all I can say.You have a gift, use it!Such beautiful writting.
    it is great, but you shouldn't show anybody that online, it was kind of silly of you to do that, because since it isn't copyrighted someone else might steal it. I am writing a book and its great, i'm almost done, it will be about 300 pages.

    Is my story any good so far?

    Sorry it's kind of long, and I'm only 11 by the way:


    ';Casey! Come clean up these dishes! I need you to clear the tables please!'; It was THE call. The night call. Everynight the whole family gets the call, the call to come close up shop. Casey always cleared dishes for the family resturaunt. It was just another one of her routines. Another routine she dreaded.


    For years now, all she's wanted was out. Out, out out. Out of this dumb, tiny town, full of nothing. Casey wanted bigger, so much better. She wanted to model. She dreamed of modeling her entire life, something most people out in the middle of nowhere couldn't quite understand. ';How could such a girl dream up a thing like that?'; they would ask. ';Isn't everyone content with becoming a farmers wife, raising kids and singing in the church choir?'; they'd theory.


    Maybe everyone else was. Possibly all the women out here were okay to amounting to nothing, making no difference other than how big a pumpkin their husband and son could grow. But Casey wasn't an everyone. She was most deffinetly a SOMEONE, but no one would ever know because of this stupid old town, blocking her on her path to SOMETHING.


    A bunch of Nothing


    It was Monday morning. Fate, Texas is still and quiet at 4:30 in the morning. Actually, it's usually always quiet no matter what, because really how loud can a town of 497 people really get? I'm willing to bet not that loud. Most people aren't up this early around here, probably nobody, but if anyone is, I'm going to say it would be those drama queen because it takes them so long to get ready.


    I'm not that kind of girl though. The only reason I'm up is because one, it takes me a while to fully get up and get ready and secon, because of my anxiety. It's not techincal, or determined by a doctor, but I have determined it myself. I have terrible anxiety with school. I don't even know why, because everythings fine there (except my friend situation) and school is my only escape from this little town, take my mind off of it. But for some reason, I just get overwhelmingly stressed and overthink things to much. My heart starts racing, I can hear my heart pounding, and almost every morning I have emotional breakdowns and cry. A little like a child running scared from a clown. A lot of the time, when I get to school, I'm pretty much out of. I won't want to talk, do my work, or even think. My body tries to tell me to shut down. When everyone asks me, my excuse is ';I'm tired.'; The problem is that this town is so small, this whole place thinks I have some kind of sleep apnea or something. In the FaceBook tags, I'm famously known as ';Sleepy,'; like from the seven dwarfs.


    Lately though I've figured out that if I wake up super early and pop in my iPod, it calms me down and I have barely any problems. Music is practically my saving grace now, I don't know what I'd do without it.


    After my music session, I go get in the shower. This takes careful doing, because I have to be quiet as to not wake my younger brothers. Not to mention I'm afraid of the shower drain after some freaky clown movie I saw when I was a little girl. After my shower I get dressed. My usual outfit is a V-neck T-shirt, with jean shorts, a big chunky cow boy like brown belt, and my cowboy boots. I love my cowboy boots to death. They are a light, wooden brown, and smell like new leather. They shine like a new born baby's bottom, and they fit like a glove. By the time I finish getting dressed, my hair is dry enough for me to style it. My hair is naturally curly, so I like to leave it that way. All I do it lightly blow dry it on cool as to keep the style. Next I hairspray the loose ringlets of auburn hair as I cover my mouth so I don't breathe in the heavy scent and choke on it.


    Now I do my make-up, this is what takes the longest. I apply my concealer, and foundation as usual, then I use a warm pink blush on the apples of my cheeks, and lightly dust an even coat of bronzer all over so I don't look to terribly pale. Now I apply a thick coat of black eyeliner to rim my hazel green eyes. I wing it out a little and make sure to take my time, my eyes are my best feature. I carefully coat my eyelashes in a thin coat of masscara, making sure not to cause clumps or make anything look spider vain-y. Last but not least I apply a light plum eyeshadow to what left of my eyelid. This is probably my favorite part of the day because after I become old and saggy, I'm talking when bo-tox can no longer fix me, I won't be able to model right? So I want to become a make-up artist.


    Before I leave my room, I slip some hoop earings through my earlobes, and put my hand braided bracelet on. When I get downstairs I help with my brothers breakfast and make myself a lightly toIs my story any good so far?
    *How* you've written it is great, but *what* you've written is...well, let me explain..





    Firstly, how old is this main character? If you're 11, you shouldn't be writing about people older than you - even though you can use your imagination, you won't be able to capture the character completely, and you don't have enough life experience to make it believable or authentic.


    Also, if your main character is 11, stop right now. 11 year olds shouldn't be wearing all that make-up and hoop earrings (which remind me of a hooker, may I add)...so think carefully now about your character choices.





    Also, what you've written is nonsense! You've written a shallow, vain character who thinks she's prettier, smarter and better than everyone. If that's what you were going for, then congratulations, but if not, think about it more.


    Its silly how she says all these things about how she wants to make something of herself, and make a difference and be something. What? A Model? This idea is laughable - she can't change the world and ';be something'; by wearing skimpy clothes and parading around in high heels. Change her thoughts a little, and get rid of the ';make a difference'; part, because modeling doesn't do that.


    Either change what she wants to be, or the thoughts she has because they don't match. People who want to be models want fame, glitz and glamour - not to change the world (unless of course they're a Miss California contestant).





    But apart from *what* you've written, the *way* you've written it was extremely effective; very well done for an 11 year old. However I agree with what someone said about the make-up routine. Its not effective, its irrelevant and boring. Maybe still include the make-up part, but perhaps talk more about why she does it, how it makes her feel, and that Autumn Plum No.5 is her all time favorite eye-shadow because it highlights her eyes and coordinates with her apricot lipgloss. You know, something that reveals character.








    Remember that what I've said is my opinion, and you don't have to agree with me.


    Good job, good luck and happy writing :)Is my story any good so far?
    you want to be a model, dont u?
    The first part is VERY good but when u start talking about ur make up nd routine in the morning is when it gets boring I think u should keep the part about Texas and the tiny town but leave out the morning routine

    REDO: What do you think of this story/writing?

    All reviews are welcome, and people -please have an open mind about this story. It's not meant to harm and/or seclude anyone.





    Timothy stood next to the large oak table quietly; waiting patiently for his master to arrive for the dinner he had been working all day on –Thanksgiving Dinner. The table was set for two, both of the chairs next to each other since Arnold was a predator and Timothy was the prey. On the table was an assortment of foods, ranging from waffle casserole to turkey with stuffing.





    Timothy was a boy of 16, with shaggy auburn red hair and black freckles that looked more like pieces of burning ash scattered across his red cheeks. He had a diamond shaped face and slim eyebrows, his lips kept in a straight line but burning the color of blood due to abuse. His eyes were almost crystal clear, a glassy blue which showed fear and alertness –no sense of happiness or comfort residing in the almond shaped eyes. His person was slim and short, only towering at 5’6” with posture a king could own but an air of abuse that proved him lowly. He wore a white button-up shirt with baggy black jeans, his sleeves rolled up and his feet only wearing black socks. To the person unaware of his background and lifestyle –they would think him to be only a regular teenage boy who probably did drugs on the weekends (which wasn’t saying much, seeing as how every teen was nowadays). But his wrists shown different, scarred and thin from countless abuse from ropes or wires tied on too tight.





    Abruptly the sound of somebody walking down the steps woke Timothy from his gaze on the floor. He lifted his head up slightly as Arnold walked in. Arnold grinned, slightly amused at the teens obedience to him. “G –good evening,” Timothy stuttered out in his low and cumbersome voice.





    “As to you, Timothy –you’ve made an excellent round of food…but where’s the beer?” Timothy’s eyes widened slightly at the question, his lips trembling. He had “forgotten” the beer. Yes –Timothy had “forgotten” the beer due to how sexually active the older man got when he was drunk.





    “I –um –“





    “Timothy, Timothy, Timothy….do you want me to school you in giving and receiving again?” Scared by the threat, Timothy rubbed his wrists and felt his whole body feel tight and stiff like an iced over pole in the middle of a snowstorm.





    “No –no sir, I’ll go and get the beer right away –“





    “It’s Master,”





    “O –of course, Master…” Timothy waited for his master’s wave of the hand or word for him to go and get the beer. But getting no response Timothy spoke, “May I go –“





    “You may go, and put up the food in the fridge for later and then go and wait in my room. I’ll get the ropes.” Arnold interrupted, his voice assertive and sending Timothy into shivers of dread. Arnold left the room without another word as Timothy slowly gained control of his feet, hands, and body as he started to take the food from the dining room and into the kitchen –storing them it all into the fridge that was already over-flowing with uneaten food. Stomach growling, he finished putting all the food in the fridge and silently climbed up the stairs to the second floor. On his way there his usual pink skin looked pale –knowing exactly what he was walking towards. He knew that if he was disobedient he would only end up crying and screaming more than he suffered from normally. But on some nights Arnold could be aggressive, almost beastly –





    “Glad to see you could make it, Timothy.” Arnold smiled smugly while standing up from his bed.


    “Mind closing the door for me? I know how you like to drown out your screams…” Chuckling at his own words Arnold headed towards Timothy who was closing the door and locking it, his back to his master.





    Timothy jumped suddenly at the older man’s hands which were now crawling around his waist and to his front side, unbuttoning his shirt while pressing him against the wooden door. Timothy bit his lip to fight a whimper as his button-down shirt and undershirt were thrown on the ground. “Come on,


    Timothy, come on and play with daddy…” Aggressively Arnold snatched Timothy’s wrist and dragged him towards the king size bed, throwing him onto it and grabbing the ropes hastily. The red haired boy buried his face in the red comforter while his wrists got tied to the beds upper panels –a tradition that made him want suicide like a kid wanting the latest toy. In no more than ten seconds, though, Timothy felt deadly pleasure as the man bit and licked down his neck –not giving the younger boy a warning, for he was too used to the unhealthy situation to even be a little surprised.





    Shaking, Timothy laid frightened in the bed. His wrists were stained with dry blood that had escaped his wrists from the night before –hanging over the side of the bed and into the trash that had been placed there for moments like this. Arnold had left for work earlier that morning, but Timothy still couldn’t move. He felt frozen and hungry –not a trace of fat left on his now regainingREDO: What do you think of this story/writing?
    That was amazing. Keep writingREDO: What do you think of this story/writing?
    That was amazing. I am hooked. I even paused the music I was listening to so I could better focus on this. Please continue to write this story. I wish you the best of luck with it.
    w.o.w. this is really good! AMAZING! keep writing! i really want to read more! oh and one question. is this supposed to be modern day? because his name timothy sounds like ';back then';. so could you clarify it to me?


    thanks.


    and once again, AMAZING!
    Very good!!!!! Please keep writing, you've got a lot of talent!! :)














    P.S. Thanks for answering my question! :p
    omg that was AMAZING!!!!!!! please please please please please please please please please please please keep writing ...you have like, a gift or something
    GREAT GREAT GREAT KEEP WRITING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
    OK new Agata Cristy OR J.K Rowling ...


    Just keep going forward


    .


    .


    .


    It seems you'll over taking the world !!
    that was freakin amazing!!!


    my only suggestion would be to add in a few commas to break up the longer sentences
    omygodomygodomygod





    you are wayyyyyyyy to good.
    I really like this, nice work.
    Amazing. Beautiful. I felt like I was there.





    I'm hooked now, so please post it online somewhere and give me a link!!! =)
    omg! that chapter was so good, towards the middle i started crying! it was sad! in a good way! u have a gift
    Your too good to be showing this to people on the internet! Someone might try to steal it! Keep writing please! It has a really dark/interesting vybe to it, I like it.


    :)
    Wow.... I absolutley Hate to read BUT THIS WAS SOO GOOD!!!!Like i want to go to the library right now and try to find writing like this. Excellent wow wow wow is all i can say!! Good writing skills very good writing skills really pulls you in I would pay for writing like this. The story itself i found slightly disturbing ,but the writing and fluency if thats even a word is really very very good. PLS continue to write and pls post the rest. Im going to post a question on good books to read and I would like if you could maybe try and answer it if you have the chance. Given your awsome writing ability i would like to know what types of books you read or what kind of writing inspires you so when you get the chance could you just type in ';What are good quality books that pull you in?'; into answers and let me know if you can. similar to your kind of writing. OMG Thankyou for sharing that i actually really enjoyed that and I just need to tell you again that i absolutlely hate to read and I want to read now cause of that, omg thankyou soo much' :-)
    i love how you put in details, thats the key to a good story%26lt;3





    keep writing this is good!!! :)

    I know its annoying but what do you think of this?

    Chapter 1





    Attempted suicide, not simply suicide, it was attempted suicide. How could I have possibly failed at something so easy? Only a few weeks ago it was the anniversary of the dreadful yet inerasable event. During the past year I鈥檇 gone through a series of counselling and health checkups unwillingly. Mum and Ross had watched me like a couple of ravenous vultures not leaving me alone or with anything potentially life threatening. They鈥檇 never understood me, and would cease to until the true end of my days. I was on mental pills. I鈥檇 spiralled into the darkness of depression and had been taking pills ever since, they helped me stay on the lighter path. Light was good, light was right and light was the only way to keep sane.


    Since the attempt I鈥檇 began to look in the mirror and see myself, not a frightening hallucination I used to be subjected to but ordinary Christine Evans. I could see my tumbling falls of blonde hair and my watery eyes of emerald green. I鈥檇 also boosted my confidence meaning life at school had become less of a challenge. In the months before my attempt I鈥檇 felt the walls closing in. I鈥檇 imagined the kind, friendly eyes to be murderous and thirsty. After regaining my sanity I鈥檇 reconnected myself to my friends and made a new alliance in that short year.


    Tom had always been there, but on the outskirts of social groups. He鈥檇 always intrigued me, which I was sure of. His rusty coloured hair was ruffled carelessly and his brown eyes were dark, on the verge of red. He had a strange warmth that seemed to illuminate from him which drew me in after my many months of bitter coolness. After hearing about my dark situation he attached himself to me, my sudden protector. He was toned and mouth wateringly beautiful but we kept our relationship on a friendly basis, to his apparent disappointment. I knew girls looked on with venomous eyes but I didn鈥檛 care for there judgmental ways.


    And then there was him鈥?br>

    He was here once again. I could smell him; it was always the first symptom. For two weeks now I鈥檇 been dreading he鈥檇 come. I could smell his strong aroma of what I imagine bottled winter smells like. History had become something in some ways to look forward to everyday and in others avoid.


    It had started with Mr Gregory introducing the topic for the session. Had I but known Mr Gregory was going to be our teacher I would have avoided choosing the subject. I sat at the back of the classroom, not because I tended to chat a lot or muck about, it was because it was the safest place as far as I was concerned. Mr Gregory had a tendency to lean threatening over the desks of those in the front rows. Two down from me remained, as always, eerily empty. It hadn鈥檛 ever been assigned to a student, for as long as I鈥檇 done history that is. That was until precisely ten past nine on a drizzly Monday morning, in other words the anniversary of my unforgotten suicide attempt.


    I smelt him first. Mr Gregory didn鈥檛 allow us to open any of his classroom windows, in fear of one of us trying to escape out of it, so the scent hadn鈥檛 drifted through there. I checked the scent again. Surprisingly the rest of the class hadn鈥檛 been stirred by it, this cancelled out the suggestion of bottled fragrances like Lynx or Charlie. Many people in my year spent half of their lives spraying themselves with the new scents. Puzzled, I slouched back into my chair and returned my attention back to Mr Gregory, more than unwillingly. Looking at the board I found that the words weren鈥檛 making much more sense than usual. I finally resorted to not paying attention at all.


    I was dreamily staring and to space and didn鈥檛 notice a strange and mysterious figure stride casually into the room, glance around and sit in the abandoned chair to my far right. He retrieved a bounded notebook, stained and battered, from his equally tattered bag and began to take notes. He scribbled rapidly, writing more than Mr Gregory had. The fact that nobody had noticed his entrance would have intrigued me, if I鈥檇 have been paying attention that is.


    It was only when I exchanged looks with the windows view I spotted him out of the corner of my eye.


    His tall, broad frame was placed in a careless fashion over the cheap plastic chairs the cheap-skate council had provided. Every so often his hand would pause to give him a second to read over his notes. A look of brief concentration sharpened his expression. I found myself entranced by his mysterious enamour. His tufts of floppy black hair fell hasty across his perfectly sculpted features. It was his eyes that truly fascinated me, memorable indigo pools looking humorously at the board; at least someone seemed able to decipher the mess of words. His eyes sat cosily in his almond shape sockets. He looked like a normal boy, but all my instincts were screaming to me that he was more than human. That in itself drew me to him. I instantlyI know its annoying but what do you think of this?
    I love it!! While it is obvious that you are not yet a mature, seasoned writer, you are nevertheless quite capable of creating striking and memorable images in the mind of the reader...... ';bottled winter'; for example: way cool image!! You have a great imagination, and manage to hold the interest of the reader well (and i REALLY want to know how and why the mysterious boy whose eyes ';sat cosily'; in their almond-shaped sockets (missed the ';d'; while proofreading i see, lol!) was ';more than human'; - i smell a sci-fi romance thriller coming on :-+). 3) After writing a section of a story, go back over it and see how it could be made to not only flow more smoothly, but also check to find places where there are too many words that don't add much to the forward momentum of the narrative - or where there seem to be words or concepts missing - such as ';cheap skate council';: one is left to wonder ';Band council? City council? Village council?'; - filling in blanks like this, so long as it is done carefully so as to enhance interest instead of distracting the reader, adds to the setting: band council tells you right away, for example, that Christine lives on a reservation.





    Overall, very promising: you have what it takes to be a GOOD writer - a firm grasp of the English language, good vocabulary, lots of imagination, the ability to come up with memorable phrases..... i would encourage you to keep on writing and to take every opportunity to sharpen your skills.





    A few words of advice: 1) check your writing carefully for grammatical errors - like ';bounded notebook'; - which is also 2) an awkward construction, which there are also a few other examples of in your writing - like ';fell hasty';, referring to his hair: just doesn't quite work.I know its annoying but what do you think of this?
    If you know it's annoying, why do you expect people to read and critique anyways?
    is this a poem or something?
    Its amazing, yu wrote that? really desciptive with lots of suspense!!





    good luckk in writing !!
    omg, ts great! keep writing, and I want to be first in line to buy this book!


    ~Sierra
    i don't think anyone is going to read this unless they have enough time but thanks for trying
    it sounds very depressing maybe u should a counselor
    Story not finished, but bravo on the first part! :)
    Wow, it's very good!
    Beautifully amazing. Actually, send me the rest when you get started!
    It's like a copy of twilight a little. The organization is really bad and it's hard to keep up with the changing ideas it is hard to understand. Check your spelling. Nice vocabulary though.
    I'll be honest, I only read about the first paragraph and skipped around through the rest. I feel you're trying to hard to make your sentences and languages sophisticated, but it only makes them unnecessarily complicated. In prose like this, you're not writing an essay, so keep the language and sentences a bit simpler and more to the point, and the reader will be more interested in the story. And by simpler I don't mean 'dumb it up' but use diction and structure appropriately for the story you're telling. Feel free to disagree, this is only my humble opinion.
    It's really is annoying! I think you love this pocket book story but you don't have to write it down here thought. Oh well,Have fun and good luck.
    You are off to a good start here. But a word to the wise. if you want people to be drawn to your story, even on here, learn to make anything you post clean. By that I mean, correct spelling as best you can, also grammar. Indent paragraphs, or even remember to put paragraphs in. Most people probably clicked on this, saw the mass of words and went on.


    It should be ';bound'; not bounded..


    But do you see what I mean? You have a very good start to a story here but when put it out with all its mistakes showing, few people will wade through it to find the gold. I did and thought it was very interesting. it doesn't have to perfect, but it should be presentable.


    Good luck and keep writing!
    OMJ OMJ OMJ that isz soo gud


    Yu have to continue and yu ahve to publish it and I gotta buy it!


    Itsz soooooooo good!!!


    If yu finish please pretty please let me know


    nalaiajonas@yahoo.com


    OMJ itsz soooo gud!!!


    Omj itsz VERY VERY VERY GOOD!!!!








    XOXOX


    God blesz
    It was good but Tom seems a lot like a copy of Edward Cullen in his days of eating humans... cuz that turns you eyes red and then they get darker.

    Continuation to my last question: how do u like my cousins story (PLEASE READ AT LEAST SOME!)?

    me and my cousin r going to fix the mistakes, i just want answers on how it sounds. this isn't the beginning:








    Once all the children had gone my head was swirling with names, Kaleb, Alexa, Jakob, Melody the list went on and on. Well, there were only eighteen names, but it seemed like so many to me.


    After dinner I went straight to Emma. “Emma, I don’t want to – I started to say but then the women who spoke before dinner, Mrs. Mistren budded in. “Penney I want to show you your room and roommate.” Mrs. Mistren said. This was what I dreaded, I wanted to go with Emma but Emma had already walked away.


    I followed Mrs. Mistren out of the cafeteria and down a hall to a door that said Room #3. She opened the door and it looked like a regular bedroom inside. It had yellowish-white walls with two beds and two nightstands. It also had multi-colored carpet, which didn’t make me feel at home.


    Once I had finished looking around the room I noticed another girl. She walked up to me and said, “Hi, I’m Morning”


    Morning was an interesting name, but I thought it was very pretty.


    “Hi Morning, I’m Morning” I said accidently, I was thinking about the name so much that I had said it was my own name. I felt my face turn bright red, probably brighter than my hair.


    “I mean, I love your name but mine is Penney” I corrected, but I still sounded stupid.


    I decided not to think about Morning’s name instead I studied on how she looked. She had silky black hair that was tied up in a pony tail. She had blue eyes like mine, but hers sparkled in the sun. I wish mine did that. She was very small though. Shorter than me, but not really short. She was skinny and small in size. Her hands were very tiny and her feet looked tiny also.


    A “Thank you” snapped me out of my gazing.


    “Oh, sorry, you’re welcome” I said. I felt so embarrassed. I had made a fool out of myself on my first day. So much for making friends. I thought.


    The next day was my first day of school. I got up early, mainly because Morning got up so early. I guess she’s a morning person. I’m not. I got up and wanted instantly go back to sleep. I thought I was in Cellathin but then I remembered that it was my first day of school in Anrasinthville. I struggled out of bed, putting on my watch as I went over to the girls’ bathroom to conquer my hair to stay flat. I do this every morning, I don’t know why because I always have to brush it again after getting dressed.


    I hurried back across the hall to my room so no one would see me in my pajamas. I wanted to pick out something to wear that would let everyone know I was normal, unlike my brother. I ended up picking a red shirt with a tiny pocket on it with blue jeans. Morning picked out something with a bit more taste. A black shirt that matched her hair with a blue flower which matched her eyes then a long-sleeved blue shirt underneath that. Then of course black pants.


    I wish I had that kind of taste. But, I never really learned. Morning, obviously had a mother with very good taste. I decided to ask her how her parents died. But suddenly a bell rang. Morning explained that the first bell in the morning meant breakfast.


    I couldn’t ask her in a public place so I decided to forget asking her for awhile. After breakfast we all brushed our teeth and went to classes.Continuation to my last question: how do u like my cousins story (PLEASE READ AT LEAST SOME!)?
    On a scale of 1-10, one being the worst and 10 being the best, i would give you guys a 4.





    The story is okay. I don't necessarily hate it, but i don't love it.





    Have fun :)Continuation to my last question: how do u like my cousins story (PLEASE READ AT LEAST SOME!)?
    your welcome :)

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  • MY MEMOIR!!! HELP! WHAT NEEDS CHANGED AND FIXED? 10 POINTS TO HONEST PERSON?

    MY MEMOIR!!! HELP! WHAT NEEDS CHANGED AND FIXED? 10 POINTS TO HONEST PERSON?


    i am in eigth grade and i have to write a memoir. i choose mine on kindergarten but i need to know what needs fixed.





    The over sized Winnie the Pooh back pack rested on my shoulders. I held one hand to the straps as if it was my only prized possession and the other, my mom’s hand, tightly as we strode through the large brown door. A large brown desk stood in the front, the student desks were neatly lined in rows of seven and each had a nametag stuck to the top. Small blue chairs were placed in front of each desk, the perfect size for our small bodies. Bright colored posters lined the walls with things like the alphabet, numbers, and shapes. In the back was a short counter, a sink was planted on one end and a large tank on the other. My curious mind wonder what was inside the tank. The room smelled of eraser, markers, and cranyons.This was my first day of kindergarten. I was finally a big girl. My mom and I waited in a line along with the other kids who would be my class mates. Mothers talked with each other while children waited. One girl, wearing frilly socks on her ankles and pink overalls, chewed a strand of hair in her mouth. Another, kept asking her mom question such as, how much longer, when can we leave, will you come get me? A boy in front of me had light blonde hair with layers of gel worked in it. He wore a dark blue Nike shirt and white buzz lightyear shoes. He tapped the boy in front of him. The boy turned around, only to have even more gel gooed into his dark brown hair. He looked at the boy for a minute, “Hi, my name’s Nick. What’s yours?” the dark haired boy looked at him for a minute and replied “Levi” In a quit shy voice. Nick asked if he wanted to be friends and from then on that’s how it went. Kids became impatient, poking each other and asking questions. Soon a woman walked in, she had a pressed, cranberry red shirt on and kaki pants. She wore a warm smile and greeted each adult. She said her name was Mrs. Smith and handed out papers that adults would need to fill out. She started to walk each child to his or hers desk. Mrs. Smith came up the line and in front of me. She kneeled down so she was four feet tall and looked me in the eyes, asking my name. “Avery” I quietly replied. She smiled and held out her hand and I took it. I was taken to a desk where my name was printed on the top. And a box of bright sharpened crayola canyons was rested on the top along with a ruler, pencils, and erasers. For the rest of the week I was introduced to a whole new world. Kids brought Gogurt and Twinkies and I learned it had a completely knew sugary delight. Each day we would stand up in front of a flag a recite the pledge of allegiance. I became best friends with a two girls named Elizabeth and Jessie. Each afternoon Mrs. Smith would say it was snack time and we were given a hand full of animal crackers and a juice box. Afterwards we would go out side for recess. Mrs. Smith said it was so we could get our “gitters” out. I remember learning how to swing and I and the other kids would compete to see who could get the highest. I would close my eyes as a swung, always feeling much higher than I was. One day a boy named Zach started to point to Jessie and sing “Jessie and Nick sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g” and watching Mrs. Smith send him to the corner. After lunch we would go to art. Each student dreaded it cause they all clamed the art teacher was mean. But I loved her! She always made me feel good and told me I had a talent. We learned the art of creating stick people and drawing flowers bigger than the sun. I found out that the tank on the counter contained two little frogs which each of us admired.


    Kindergarten. One long word to describe such a short-lived time in my life. As the saying goes you never really appreciate something until it is gone and that was how it was for me during that one school year. I look back trying to remember through the dim haze of that time when fun and games was woven into learning and education.MY MEMOIR!!! HELP! WHAT NEEDS CHANGED AND FIXED? 10 POINTS TO HONEST PERSON?
    I think this is great! You're in 8th grade? Wow! I dnt remember doing this kind of work in 8th grade! Good Luck to you!

    Does my story have the correct grammar and everything ?

    Gone





    Antanasia’s life was perfect. She was as happy as can be. She had great friends, a wonderful family, and she was getting great marks in school. “Nothing can possibly go wrong,” she thought. So why did she have this terrible feeling of dread in her stomach?


    Today would be her one year anniversary with Ethan. He was meeting her at the park, and had kept the details to a minimum. She insisted on dressing up and throwing a big party, however he continued to tell her “It’s not big deal.” Thinking it over, she noticed these past days Ethan had been very quite and distant. She had asked him what was wrong a multiple amount of times, but he just shook his head and changed the subject. If acted like that today she would confront him, once and for all. She slowly walked up to the bench, while having a weird knot in her stomach.


    “Hey,” he said.


    Antanasia looked at him. He was wearing his brown khaki shorts, sneakers and a cream coloured shirt. His light brown hair was touseled yet at the same time it looked so smooth, and it was Just below his ears. He had side swept bangs that covered both his eyes, but not enough for her to not to stare into them. She had saved the best for last, knowing that as soon as she looked into them she would forget her train of thought. Her eyes met with a pair of deep chocolate brown eyes staring back at her with something that looked close to pain. That’s it she had had enough and was going to confront him.


    “What’s wrong?” she asked moving closer to him. Though he immediately flinched back. The expression on Antanasia’s face must have been pretty clear since he immediately took her hand and gave it a tight comforting squeeze.


    “There’s no easy way to say this but …. I’m moving”


    “What?”


    “Moving, we started packing today. We’re going to” … He took a long pause seeming to think it through and finally said, “Florida.”


    “Florida?” Shock, anger, betrayal, and confusion coursed through her.


    “ I’ll miss you Antanasia Woods, please take care of yourself.


    “ But – ” She was cut short and taken by surprise as Ethan grabbed her and kissed her. The kiss was wrong, It was rough and full of anger, yet passionate enough that she soon realised this would be there last kiss. He slowly pulled away his soft pink lips away from


    hers, and the connection broke. Hurt was quickly replaced with denial.


    “Goodbye love.” he whispered softly in her ear. His voice was slowly fading and he was leaving, but she had to stop him.


    “No!” she yelled.


    But it was too late no one heard her and he was gone. “Okay, it’s okay. I’ll just go to their house and stop him.” she thought. She rode her bike for what seemed like an eternity, pushing herself harder and harder, feeling the need to go faster and faster. When she finally got there she was tired and sweaty. But that wouldn’t stop her. She knocked the door hard, trying and trying again and again. But no one answered. She banged, kicked, yelled, and pleaded. Tears streamed down her cheeks in frustration. Then she slowly twisted the door knob, it was open. “ That’s strange.” she thought to herself. Hands shaking violently it took a while to get them to be still. Hey heart was beating so wildly, that she wouldn’t have been surprised if it had ripped out of her chest and ran off. She slowly opened the door, while taking a deep breath. A wave of shock washed over her. “No, it couldn’t be! Ethan had said they just started packing.” But no matter how hard she wanted to deny it, she knew that it was too late. He really was gone, forever. Out of her life without any explanations. Antananasia spent what was left of the day there. Screaming, crying, and yelling. But no one heard her, the house was empty. He was gone.Does my story have the correct grammar and everything ?
    I don't think you're supposed to put a comma in this sentence: He was meeting her at the park, and had kept the details to a minimum.








    I think in this one, you should put a comma before the quote: She insisted on dressing up and throwing a big party, however he continued to tell her “It’s not big deal.”








    In this sentence quite should be quiet: Thinking it over, she noticed these past days Ethan had been very quite and distant.





    In this sentence, there should be a comma after sneakers:


    He was wearing his brown khaki shorts, sneakers and a cream coloured shirt.





    Just should not be capitalized:


    His light brown hair was touseled yet at the same time it looked so smooth, and it was Just below his ears.





    In this sentence you should re-word it: He had side swept bangs that covered both his eyes, but not enough for her to not to stare into them.








    needs puncuation: That’s it she had had enough and was going to confront him.





    needs quote at the end: “ I’ll miss you Antanasia Woods, please take care of yourself.





    It shouldn't be capitalized and realised should be realized: The kiss was wrong, It was rough and full of anger, yet passionate enough that she soon realised this would be there last kiss.





    should be her: Hey heart was beating so wildly, that she wouldn’t have been surprised if it had ripped out of her chest and ran off.

    Could someone read and critique this?

    This is just a rough draft and I'm looking to improve it





    Chapter 1


    ';You okay Forest?'; I asked my boyfriend worriedly.


    ';Oh yea, just...tired.';


    ';Okay.'; I gave him a sideways glance. He had been acting strangely lately, sometimes avoiding me, and sometimes almost suffocating me with attention. I did not want to think about what it all meant. Not tonight anyway, on our eighteen month anniversary.


    We resumed eating in silence, unusual for us when we sometimes stumbled over our words and interrupted each other in our rush to say something.


    The walk back through the parking lot to Forest's ancient little Accord was almost just as silent. I felt so awkward and I was almost squirming in my own skin. This was the first date I was wishing was over early.


    ';Hey...Sadie, can we talk.';


    ';Sure.'; I gave a short, fake sounding laugh that made me wince when I heard it. ';What do you want to talk about?';


    ';Us. I've just been wondering if this is really working for us.'; He looked at me with those gorgeous brown eyes of his, begging me to make this easy for him. ';We've just been so awkward lately, and we're both so busy...I'm just trying to say that...it's really my fault you know...';


    I started to feel tears clog my eyelashes. I had dreaded this day for weeks, the final rejection.


    He kept stumbling over his words, trying to comfort himself - that was who this was about anyway, himself, and the beautiful girl he probably was thinking about. Was it Mandie? She had been after him for months...not that I could blame her.


    ';I get it.'; I said, breaking into his stumbling, ashamed of the way my voice cracked. ';You want us to break up.';


    ';I still want to be your friend,'; he said, taking my hand.


    ';Yea, me to.'; I mumbled, trying not to cry. How was this possible? Where did I go wrong?


    We got in the car and he drove me home in silence. I was trying to pretend the tears leaking out of my eyes weren't there, knowing that they would just confirm what I had feared all along. That I was a pathetic, clingy girlfriend whose boyfriend had no choice but to dump her.


    I stumbled up the steps in my heels, slowly unlocking the door, happy that at least my grandparents weren't home yet from their meeting.


    I walked like I was in a daze towards my room, ignoring the bed and throwing myself down on my beanbag, sobbing. After my loud pity party was over I walked over to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.


    Swollen eyes that weren't a spectacular color even when they didn't have red in them - muddy brown, really. Pale, splotchy face, body nothing to brag about, too tall and awkwardly big in the wrong places, my hair was all right, long and naturally straight, a deep dark red color, but who cared? Forest had rejected me, and I was drowning.


    He had first befriended me when I had mCould someone read and critique this?
    At the beginning, I was left wondering where exactly they were. I had to piece it together from ';we resumed eating'; and such things. Based on the presence of a parking lot, I assume that they're in a restaurant. If so, how fancy? Who paid the bill? Is there alcohol (are they old enough to drink)?





    When writing, try to paint a picture of what is going on. It gives the reader some context in which to view the situation.





    Another thing I noticed is that most of the interaction is in dialog. Though there is some mention of Forest looking at Sadie, there is a lack of body language description. Does Forest hold her hands while they break up? If not, are Sadie's hands clutched in fists and she tries not to cry? Does she bite her lip to hold back the tears?





    The description of Sadie seems almost out-of-place as well. It isn't tied into her emotions as completely as it could be. How does she feel about here eyes? If Forest just broke up with her, is she maybe wondering what is wrong with her to make him not love her anymore? Don't describe Sadie just to fit her description in there. If it doesn't move the scene forward in some way, get rid of it.





    Overall, you did a good job though. Your grammar is actually quite good; there weren't any mistakes bad enough to distract me from reading. Just try to flesh out the description a bit. :)Could someone read and critique this?
    Better grammar, add more details and make the descriptions more vivid, add more emotion.
    Has some word issues such as ';worriedly'; not being a word. You use ';ly'; too often and the girls names are too close, both have an ';ie'; on the end.





    The ';eighteen month anniversary'; part seems like overkill. Just say that they had been dating for awhile in a different way.





    The story is normal now, nothing special. It's fine for an introduction, but something new needs to happen soon.





    It's an okay start. Keep going.
    good just fix your grammar and add some more details
    If this is pleasure writing (writing for yourself) its good.





    Publicly,


    Cut down words not needed.





    I'll do my best; I'm not good at cutting down words either; I treasure my words too much.





    ';You okay Forest?'; I asked my boyfriend.


    ';Yep. Just... tired.';


    ';Okay,'; I gave him a sideways glance. He had been strange lately -- he would avoid me then be chokingly attentive. I avoided the thought because tonight was our eighteen month anniversary.


    We ate in an silence. (I don't get the next part)


    The walk to Forest's car was silent, too. I felt awkward, perhaps because this was the first date with him I wanted over early.


    ';Sadie, can we talk?';


    ';Sure,'; I gave a fake laugh, ';What's up?


    ';Us,'; he said, ';I've just been wondering if this is really working for us.';


    His gorgeous eyes pleaded for this to be easy.


    Forest continued, ';We've just been so awkward lately, and we're both so busy...I'm just trying to say that...it's really my fault you know...';


    I dreaded this moment, and I started to tear up. Mandie was after him; I couldn't blame her, but she was beautiful.


    ';I get it,'; I was ashamed at how my voice cracked, ';You want us to break up.';


    He took my hand, ';I still want to be your friend.';


    ';Yea, me too,'; I mumbled. What did I do?


    He drove me home in silence.





    Damn, 18 months? Breaking up with a girl over lust? Pathetic! lol

    Can this be right?

    New Words for 2007





    * TESTICULATING.


    Waving your arms around and talking bollocks.





    * BLAMESTORMING.


    Sitting round in a group, discussing why a deadline was missed or a project failed, and who was responsible.





    * SEAGULL MANAGER.


    A manager who flies in, makes a lot of noise, craps on everything, and then leaves.





    * ASSMOSIS.


    The process by which people seem to absorb success and advancement by sucking up to the boss rather than working hard.





    * SALMON DAY.


    The experience of spending an entire day swimming upstream only to get screwed and die.





    * CUBE FARM.


    An office filled with cubicles.





    * PRAIRIE DOGGING.


    When someone yells or drops something loudly in a cube farm, and people's heads pop up over the walls to see what's going on. (This also applies toapplause for a promotion because there may be cake.)





    * SITCOMs.


    Single Income, Two Children, Oppressive Mortgage. What yuppies turn into when they have children and one of them stops working to stay home with thekids or start a ';home business';.





    * SINBAD.


    Single working girls. Single income, no boyfriend and desperate.





    * AEROPLANE BLONDE.


    One who has bleached/dyed her hair but still has a 'black box'.





    * PERCUSSIVE MAINTENANCE.


    The fine art of whacking the crap out of an electronic device to get it to work again.





    * ADMINISPHERE.


    The rarefied organisational layers beginning just above the rank and file. Decisions that fall from the ';adminisphere'; are often profoundly inappropriate or irrelevant to the problems they were designed to solve. This is often affiliated with the dreaded ';administrivia'; - needless paperwork and processes.





    * 404.


    Someone who's clueless. From the World Wide Web error message ';404 Not Found'; meaning that the requested document could not be located.





    * OH - NO SECOND.


    That minuscule fraction of time in which you realize that you've just made a BIG mistake (e.g. you've hit 'reply all').





    * JOHNNY-NO-STARS.


    A young man of substandard intelligence, the typical adolescent who works in a burger restaurant. The 'no-stars' comes from the badges displaying stars that staff at fast-food restaurants often wear to show their level of training.





    * GOING FOR A McSHIT.


    Entering a fast food restaurant with no intention of buying food, you're just going to the bog. If challenged by a pimply staff member, your declaration to them that you'll buy their food afterwards is known as a McShit with Lies.





    * MILLENNIUM DOMES.


    The contents of a Wonderbra, i.e. extremely impressive when viewed from the outside, but there's actually naught in there worth seeing.








    * AUSSIE KISS.


    Similar to a French Kiss, but given down under.





    * GREYHOUND.


    A very short skirt, only an inch from the hare.





    * SALAD DODGER.


    An excellent phrase for an overweight person.





    * SWAMP-DONKEY


    A deeply unattractive person.





    * MONKEY BATH.


    A bath so hot, that when lowering yourself in, you go: ';Oo! Oo! Oo! Aa! Aa! Aa!';.





    * MYSTERY BUS.


    The bus that arrives at the pub on Friday night while you're in the toilet after your 10th pint, and whisks away all the unattractive people so the pub is suddenly packed with stunners when you come back in.





    * MYSTERY TAXI.


    The taxi that arrives at your place on Saturday morning before you wake up, whisks away the stunner you slept with, and leaves a 10-Pinter in your bedinstead.





    * BEER COAT.


    The invisible but warm coat worn when walking home after a booze cruise at 3:00am.





    * BEER COMPASS.


    The invisible device that ensures your safe arrival home after booze cruise, even though you're too drunk to remember where you live, how you got here, and where you've come from.





    * BREAKING THE SEAL.


    Your first pee in the pub, usually after 2 hours of drinking. After breaking the seal of your bladder, repeat visits to the toilet will be required every 10 or 15 minutes for the rest of the night.





    * TART FUEL.


    Bottled premixed spirits, regularly consumed by young women.





    * PICASSO BUM.


    A woman whose knickers are too small for her, so she looks like she's got 4 buttocksCan this be right?
    Sounds pretty well thought out, to me!








    Good one! Thanks.











    DECan this be right?
    haha


    thanks for the laugh and the two points!
    Thank you, best laugh I've had all day.
    You are quite funny -- your ';definitions'; should have been posted in the JOKES %26amp; Riddles !!

    Hey, This is the beginning of my essay for English, just wondering what you think of it?

    Hi, this piece is for my English folio (Standard Grade/GSCE)


    The task was: Write an essay about a time when you were seperated about someone you cared about and this is what i came up with....just wondering if it any good, at all, because i'm really not sure, but i want the truth, if it..well....crap...say so....or otherwise...because it's important for me





    Cold September





    I lay awake in my bed seeking warmth amongst my duvet in the early morning hours of a cold September day. Of all the days I had to sleep in late, thanks to my alarm clock which never seems to work, it just had to be the day my class are going on a school outing, to Edinburgh Dungeons. To be honest I couldn’t care where we were going, as any pupil would likely say to anyone, anywhere but school on a Monday is like heaven. I reluctantly slouched, if not fell, out of the warmth and comfort of my bed wishing It was all a dream and that I wasn’t late but sound asleep in the darkness of the night. But no, of course, this was no dream. I got ready for school with the dreaded thought of detention in the back of my mind and the disgruntled complaints from my mother in my ears. At least there was no rush, why hurry when I’m already late?


    I stepped outside into the bitingly cold but somewhat refreshing morning air and trudged around the corner and made my way to the nearby bus stop. The street stood in silence as, not a single person was in sight. Some could even say it had an almost eerie feel to it but for me it was…bliss. Ever since I can remember I’ve always preferred being alone than with others. I’ve never gotten along with others, I was the outcast from day one of primary school and to be honest, I really couldn’t care less. Why should I? The bus stop came into view but to my surprise it was not deserted unlike the street. Curious. Maybe I’m not the only one in the street with a broken alarm clock. I entered the shelter in which a lonesome school student stood . I’ve never saw her before, should I say something? I’ve never been one for talking to people I know ,never mind a complete stranger. It’s times like this when I curse my shyness. She appeared to be Asian, perhaps an exchange student? She was rather slender and her hair was dark as pitch, cut short just above her shoulders and an elegant black bow was pinned on the side. I can’t begin to describe how, well…how beautiful she was. She turned around to face me and spoke, “So, do you always stare at girls?”, with a voice so soft yet so clear. Crap. I have been standing here for what seems like an age staring at her like a fool, just great. I can only imagine how ridiculous I must look right now. I quickly snap out of my daze. “Only the pretty ones” , this just keeps getting better! Out of all the thing I could have said, I just had to say that! To my relief she smiles, a smile as beautiful as her. For what felt like hours but surely only minutes we stand in silence but not an awkward silence. Just…silence. She breaks the tension, “Hi, I’m Haeli, so who would you be?”, which is a pretty ordinary thing to say to a stranger so why did my heart skip a beat. “I’m Jason”. We started talking and within what must have only been minutes we became good friends. Maybe life isn’t so bad after all. Of course there was a catch, when isn’t there? She goes to a different school. So form that day forward everyday after school and at the weekends we met to go a walk to wherever our feet took us.Hey, This is the beginning of my essay for English, just wondering what you think of it?
    Wow, excellent. A good beginning to a novel! Of course, I'm comparing your work to the work of American students, and there's little to compare.





    OK, some nit picks--





    I think I'd edit some superfluous language...';To be honest...'; has little value. Keep ';...no, of course, this...';, it softens the impact. ';This was no dream.'; would be too melodramatic.


    ';...it was not deserted unlike the street.'; needs work.


    '; I’ve never saw her before'; ...I had never seen her before, perhaps?


    ';Out of all the thing';...I'm sure you mean things, plural.


    ';...wherever our feet took us.';...perhaps ';wherever our feet would take us.';





    Excellent prose. I look forward to your first novel.Hey, This is the beginning of my essay for English, just wondering what you think of it?
    I really do like it!


    I want to read more!


    like srsly... E-MAIL it to me when your done!


    im not kidding.





    but this one part:





    “I’m Jason”. We started talking and within what must have only been minutes we became good friends





    I dont know, how they became good friends that fast.. i dunno that sounds a little cheesy.





    I don't know what I would say..


    but it was REALLY good!!!!!

    Im writing a story for creative writing about a school shooting & I need to have 3 characters with flashbacks?

    Rick is the main guy,


    and his girlfriend is Sam


    and her little sister is Ally. My story is a little out of place and not nearly done.


    Please tell me any suggestions, ideas, or what I should add. (Even descriptive words) ANYTHING!! lol PLEASE HELP I would so appreciate it....





    Nervously, Sam inches her way toward the bus stop with her younger sister. Her eyes suddenly interlock with a very familiar face. She couldn't help but notice the worried expression over-casting his light blue eyes. Ever since the incident Sam, her sister, and Noah had hardly been the same.


    “Are you ready for this?” Sam says, breaking the silence.


    “Not really.” Noah replies, “How about you, Ally?”


    “Me either.” She replies.


    It had been over two months since they had gone to school.


    The bus pulls in, and the fears rose over the students.


    Playing softly, the radio was the only sound circulating around the bus. All the students remained solemnly quiet.


    Noah was unfortunately reminded of the traumatic circumstance the moment he looked down at his basketball hoodie.


    “Good game, boys. Time to hit the showers.” Praised coach Allen.


    Tearing off my basketball shoes, I listened to my other team-mates interacting across the boys locker room.


    “Dude, I heard Sam likes you, and she's dying for you to ask her out!” One of my fellow teammates declared.


    My heart sank to the ground, I just asked out Sam less than two hours ago and she said yes. Why would she do that to me?


    “Yeah, Rick, totally go for it, man! She's so hot!”


    Oh, never mind. It's just Rick, and they're probably just making fun of him like usual. Relieved I took a shower, and as always I was the last one to make it for lunch.


    I noticed Sam looked like a deer in the head lights, but I wasn't sure why.


    “Everything alright babe?” I swung my arm around her, as she wiped off her lips. This perplexed me.


    “Yeah. Sure. Lets get out of here, now.” Sam exhaled, “Lets go pick up my sis. She's usually at the library around this time.”


    Back into reality of the moment, Noah's thoughts were interrupted when Sam's few tears leaked down her face and onto my hoodie.


    “Everything is going to be okay, I promise.” Noah whispers, “We'll get through this together.”


    Noah tried to be brave for both Sam, and Ally, were sitting beside him.


    Sam perked her head up some and stared at her bandaged hand and was slowly drawn into the beginning of her horrific memories.


    “I heard you liked me.”


    A laugh escaped from my lips, “Now that is funny.”


    Moving closer to me, Rick's voice lowered to a whisper, “Oh, playing hard to get, I see.” His arms suddenly were around my waist and his lips entwined with mine.


    “O-my-gosh! Get off Rick! I'm serious, I DON'T LIKE YOU!” I struggled to break free. I about died of embarrassment and complete disgust.


    Rejectingly, Rick stared at me with his intense brown eyes and he backed off. No offense to him, I just wasn't interested, at all. For one, he has dorky glasses, bushy brown hair, and he's short. The list goes on.


    Surrounding us, all the guys belted out laughing. I began to wonder if they convinced him to talk to me or something.


    Noah walks into the cafeteria and puts his arm around me having no idea what he just missed. Quintessence of exasperation beamed in Rick's shadowy eyes. His simple look of 'your going to pay' actually petrified me. I had no idea such a nerdy kid could cause so much distress.


    “Everything alright babe?” Noah's soothing voice calmed me down.


    Wiping my lips hastily I reply, “Yeah, sure. Lets get out of here, now.”


    Sam's eyes re-opened as she looked up at Noah. The twenty-five minuet bus ride started to feel like an eternity. All the students were dreading the moment they would have to step foot onto Westridge high school grounds.


    On Noah's lap, was a few text books. Ally's thoughts were deeply sucked in.


    Typing, speedily, but accurately, I raced to finish my essay in class at the library. I was slightly annoyed with fact my parter wasn't here to help. Click. I saved my essay. Satisfied, I closed my laptop, and put away all my assignments.


    Slam the library door bolted open, and caused the entire room to look over.


    It was my parter, finally arriving, but he had a look of agony of his face. His hands were full of tension on the door panel. His dark eyes looked almost black. His smile looked like evilly determined, and he was wearing a long back cloak.


    “THIS IS WHAT YOU ALL DESERVE!”


    The moment Rick reached for something behind his back, the room instantly become mad chaos, and terrifying screams shattered the silence. I wasn't the type to freak out so easily, I was braver than others, so I had already flew to the back of the library while everyone else either froze or ran around.


    Peeking through the library shelves, I could see Rick mercilessly shooting everyone he could.





    Noah was captured by Sam's beauty. With the sunlight reflecting off her long blonIm writing a story for creative writing about a school shooting %26amp; I need to have 3 characters with flashbacks?
    good but a little confusing and its a bit like 19 minutes by jodi picoult.-amazing book by the way. The changing of the narrator tense was confusing and interesting and so were the flashbacks. it was ok but i hate the word babe so... idk its just a personal thing -good idea

    My boyfriend and I broke up and I am sooooo NOT ok :(?

    so my bf broke up with me after he said he loved me and he never wanted to leave. I feel awful everyday now I try to keep my head up but I can't. We broke up b/c he said I was controlling and that I was trying to change him b/c he's a flirt and always writes flirty stuff on girls pages on FB i told him how i felt and he said he'd chane but I found out he was lying and confronted him and he said u don't trust me and u have no business snooping seeing who i'm talking too and since he told practically all the girls he knew they were pretty I felt like just another number and now my self-esteem is basically gone plus no guys ever look or try to talk to me cuz i'm a ';good girl'; and I'm not thick and my hair is natural (dreads) so no guys ever notice me and girls always notice him and in short he basically told me i was lucky to have him now i'm starting to think i'm right :( how do i move on and find some1 elseMy boyfriend and I broke up and I am sooooo NOT ok :(?
    Don't let that jerk get you down... You deserve to be with someone who cherishes every day that he is with you, and who only looks at YOU. You're a beautiful person, inside and out. If you weren't, he wouldn't have been with you in the first place. And it's HIS loss, not yours. He can't just have ONE pretty girl who wants him; he's the kind of guy who wants attention from everyone, and you hunny, are a LOT better than that. Soon, he'll realize that. You're a great girl, and who ever will be with you, will be the luckiest guy.My boyfriend and I broke up and I am sooooo NOT ok :(?
    From what you say, you are better off without him.





    Someone will eventually treat you with the dignity and respect you deserve.





    It's only a matter of time until you meet them!
    I'm sorry sweetie, but he sounds like a prick. You can do much better. If he didn't make you feel special or loved, you are better off without him.
    get over it... find some1 new please :) do it for my hun :p

    Hows my story so far?

    ok im writing a story but i only have 2 chapters done.can you tell me what you think of it so far and how i can improve it?





    Capter 1


    Zroom-room-room-room.My dad tried starting the engine of our R.V.';We have everything right?';he asked.';Yeah i think so.';my mom replied.I sighed.Its not that i didnt like car rides or being with my family or being in the R.V for long periods of time.I loved car rides.Once I started riding i dreaded stopping.My family was pretty fun.And the R.V wasnt that bad.But outside of the R.V ... that was a whole diffrent soty.I hated it all.The bugs,the heat, ichy grass, sappy sticky trees, the smell, everything.And unfortuanly me and my family were going to be hicking for a whole week.Thats what i was absoulty dreading.';Scooth your bootch.';My sister Kayla said interupting my thoughts.I scooted over on the couch.';No need to look so grumpy Ruthie';my other sister Alyce said to me.';Its just camping.';';Oh yeah just being outside wear theres tons of bears and cougars waiting to eat you.'; I said.';T--Th-Theres bears and cougars here.';Kayla said.';Its ok Kayla if there is well push Ruthie in front of us all.';Cheyenne said joking.We laughed.Kayla Cheyenne and Alyce were my beloved sisters.I loved them but they made me feel left out sometimes.They were all cheerleaders and blonde.My oldest sister Alyce was shorter than me.She was in collage becoming a dentist and also cheering for out citys team the Eagles.She had blonde curly hair and wore high heels alot to look taller.My other older sister was Cheyenne.She was taller than me Alyce Kayla and my Mom.She had long blonde hair and she was really pretty.She was in collage too to become a vet.She did modeling on the side.I was easily jealous of her.Any girl was really.My other younger sister was Kayla.She had blonde hair with brown highlites.She was only a year behind me so we were close.Thern there was me.I was the second tallest of us 4.I had really dark brown hair almost black with reddish-pink highlites.I liked how i looked but i felt taboo comapared to my sisters.I yawned.The couch was really comfy.I felt my eyes getting heavier and heavier.Maybe it wouldnt be so bad to take a nap.


    Chapter 2


    I was running through the forest.Something was following me.I could only run so far before my stomach started to cramp.I tried to go faster but I felt like I was running in slow motion.Then i ran up a giant cliff.I ran to the edge and stopped.The beast was still following me.It was running towards me.It looked like a mass of brown and black hair.It reached out towards me and I screamed.THen jumped off the cliff.This is how im gonna die i though.Then i landed on...wait...the floor?I ... opened my eyes.


    ';Ruthie, sweetie, are you ok?';my mom asked.';You screamed then feel on the floor.';


    ';Yeah yeah.Im fine.'; I said though I wasnt entirely sure.


    I stood up and walked back to the couch.We have been driving for three days.


    ';How much longer?';Kayla whined.


    ';Well be there in about an hour.';Mom said.


    I sighed.This is going to be delightful.The hour went by so quickly.We were at the entrance to the park sooner then I though possible.The officer at the entrance gave each of us a map.We were hiking to a waterfall miles away.Joy.We drove to the giant parking lot.There was tons of other R.Vs and cars there.We got our camping gear out.


    ';Can we at least go get a shower before we start walking?'; Cheyenne asked.


    ';Fine.';Dad muttered.';But make it quick.I want to eat lunch here then hit the trails.';


    Me,Kayla,Cheyenne,and Alyce headed to the bathrooms.


    ';These are sick.';I said looking at a big spider web in the corner.


    ';Better than nothing.';Alyce said brightly.


    We took our showers (and had to listen to Cheyennes singing.)While we were heading back guys on bikes passed us.


    ';Hey.';one shouted.He had blonde shaggy hair and looked muscular.


    ';Heeyy.';Cheyenne said smiling.


    ';Im Ricky and this is John and Drew he pointed to the others.John was lanky and had brown-red shaggy hair and Drew was muscular and had brown curly hair.


    ';Im Cheyenne.And this is Ruthie,Kayla-';


    ';And Im Alyce.';Alyce said looking at Drew and batting her eyelashes.


    ';So were are you girls headed to?';Drew asked.


    ';Back to our R.V then we headed to Blue Water Fall.';Cheyenne explained.


    ';Really?Were headed to Blue Water Falls to.';Drew said.


    ';Thats sweet.Maybe well see you around.';Alyce said still batting her eyelids.


    ';See ya.';Drew said.As he passed Alyce on his bike he smacked her butt.Alyce blushed.I rolled my eyes.Not that they werent cute but they seemed like the player type.As we walked back to the trailer Alyce,Kayla,and Cheyenne discussed there hottness.


    ';Sorry none of them liked you Ruthie.';Kayla said.


    ';Its ok.Wait what?';I said confused.


    ';Well I dont wanna sound mean but Ricky liked Cheyenne.Who doesnt?And Drew obviously liked Alyce.And of course John liked me.';


    ';Psh were did you get that from.';


    ';Well its kinda obvious.';


    Haha liked I cared.They didnt know it but I had a boyfriend at home.His nameHows my story so far?
    Don't take what i am going to respond as a put down, im just here to tell you how to improve. You cannot improve unless your given all your wrongs.





    Are you trying to write a novel? if so you MUST stretch our your first chapter, its only one huge paragraph. Its Choppy. It needs work. Big time. Your opening, to weak, you need to be able to grab the readers attention. Zroom-room-room-room gotta go, Would you read something that started with that? Why not something along the lines of. The shocking noise of the engine roared to life as my dad turned the key. That sort of thing.


    Also in the ';1'; chapter never have two people talking in one para. It really confuses the reader.


    In the beginning again, you need use of COMMAS. like the part where it is like I love car rides... Use a comma there and connect it to another sentence. I feel like you used the word RV way to much.





    One thing you really need to work on is the use of detail. It is too weak, again you need to be able to grab the readers attetion. Add some use of the 5 sense (see touch taste feel hear smell.)





    better yet get ride of the second chapter and combine it to the 1st. Just because it is a '; dream'; doesnt mean you have to start a new chapter, thats only a start of a new Paragraph.





    Those are just a few things taht need work, I hope this helps and you use information in the best ways. You can become a great writer, you just need to become more expierenced with detail. Maybe read a few books and see how things are worded, formatted, details. Ect. and use it in the best way.


    Good LuckHows my story so far?
    The only thing I'd warn you about is to be careful of writing about past events in the first person. If that's the point of view you want to use, then it's more effective for the story to be happening around you. That first book is tough, I know. I wrote my first novel when I was 14 and finished it at 15. The next one was substantially better, so don't lose hope!
    hmmm the story line seems interesting. i really liked the first few chapters, but if i were you i would go back and add tons more detail and descriptive language. also theres alot of dialouge in the story and its sometimes kinda hard to follow. maybe add a little more description/explanation and make the story flow a little more.


    anyways it was still really great!
    chapters should be much longer, unless you're making a statement about something.