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Short Stories Short Stories, usually between 500 and 2000 words.

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Old 09-13-2006, 10:44 PM   #1
Taz
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810 words compleated.

People stare at me. As I walk down the street, and whisper and point. I can’t stand it. I wish they could at the very least pretend not to realise who I am. That they’d treat me like they don’t know me, which they don’t, they know my face, my family’s past but they don’t know me, the real me. But some think they do they think I’m like him, like her, but I’m not, I’m different and I can’t bare to be the same as them. I’ll have to spend my whole life trying to escape this whole mess and the stereo types that people have about me. I need people right now to believe in me, trust me, comfort me, not treat me like I’m the evil doer. I wasn’t the one who held a gun to my wife and her lover’s heads and pulled the trigger, or the one who had the affair, yet I’m being treated like I am. I’m not meant to be in prison I’m meant to be free. I did nothing wrong. But I’m in a prison of my own. I can’t escape it no matter where I go. No matter how hard I try.

School was hell before. But now it has bought a whole new meaning to the word unbearable. In fact I wounder if I should come up with a new name one that’s means worse then unbearable. Whilst I complain about those that look down on me. Those that dish out the sympathy (though I don’t let on) drive me mad to. They just remind me, rub it in my face as to what has happened.

“Jocelyn” I hear Bethany call me from across the oval. She has finished her lunch time soccer training and is running towards me. Bethany is the one person that hasn’t changed in how she treats me since the murders. Without her the last shred of the girl that once was me would be dead along with the rest of me. She’s what’s holding me together (well what’s left of me). What has made me soldier on when all I wanted to do was lay down and give up. But I couldn’t do it to her not to my best friend in the whole wide world. I couldn’t bare to cause her pain.

“So how was soccer practice?” I ask forcing a smile.
“Good. Guess what I think we may win this year those two new kids and the new coach has made all the defence.”
“Awesome” I retort just as an image flashes through my mind of a gun shot imbedding itself within my mothers head. I can’t contain the tears and Bethany sees. She puts her arm around my shoulder but doesn’t say anything. And that’s how I like it. She’s simple yet complicated at the same time. She unlike others knows that a small gesture can do more then talking. Despite the fact that Mrs Hammond told me that the only way I would get better is to talk. But I don’t believe that talking is the best thing for everyone. Sometimes people are just better to deal with it how they deal with it. Be it talking or walking along a nice beach and thinking. People are different. I just wish that she’d realise that. And if I are going to talk, Bethany’s going to be the firsts to hear it.

I wait for my foster mother to pick me up and I wonder how long I’ll be there before they shift me off to somewhere else. No doubt that will happen when I just start settling down. After all why should anything go my way? Nothing else ever has. Why should now be any different? Things look up in my life and then they go crashing down again. Sometimes I wish everything would come to a halt. But I guess I have to soldier on that’s what Bethany would tell me to do. I’ll do it for her as she after all is the one true person that gets what’s happening to me. Well as much as she can. After all I don’t think you can truly see exactly where some oneness coming from or how they feel even if you have been in a simular situation.

Mrs Jackson’s BMW comes around the corner. Clambering in we head back to the little cottage that is now my home. Mrs Jackson pulls out gingerly into the traffic. We are about a street away from home when we get held up at some lights. We have a car in front and behind us. Where getting ready to move when suddenly we hear and see a car come over the hill to the right of us to quickly. We both scream. As glass shatters and metal compacts and then all goes black.
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Old 09-14-2006, 11:35 PM   #2
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You have definitely created an a very problematic character who has some serious emotional and mental problems.

You get into the character's head with the first person narrative. But at the same time it is too abstract in language. The character wants us to know about her but I learned very little about her because she does not give us any real examples.

I'm interested in why you don't use a period after 'Mrs'. I notice you do that in all your pieces. Is that a stylistic quirk of yours? Or is it something they do in Australia? There's nothing wrong with it. It doesn't make it more difficult to read, but it's just different from what I'm used to.

Nice work though. Sad ending. Very bleak and disturbing story overall. I like that you showed a glimmer of hope with Bethany. But this is a pretty depressing piece.
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Old 09-15-2006, 10:08 AM   #3
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I think your writing is improving. There are fewer typos and grammatical errors and it flows better. The 1st person is hard to write in. It's too easy to avoid specifics and details because you are too close to them. It's harder to be detached and honest. Here things seem also to happen kind of randomly.
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Old 09-15-2006, 12:28 PM   #4
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You need to run this through Word if you have it. Lot of misspellings and sentence fragments. Spacing needs work. While agree with gohn about the abstract feel of the char, your writing has improved, and first person isn't an easy POV. Expanding on this, her personal world view would help. This has potential.
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Old 09-16-2006, 06:22 AM   #5
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Thanks all of you it's nice to know I'm improving.
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Old 09-17-2006, 10:43 PM   #6
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There are a few grammar problems but if those are fixed it would really enchance the piece. Good Work.
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