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How to be a Pirate (Rated PG-13 For language, violence, and suggestive content) (1 Viewer)


Senior Member
My life sucks.
Okay...bad introduction....let's try this again...
My name is Roxanne Astrid Silver, I'm fifteen years old, I'm supposedly the descendant of the notorious pirate Anne Bonny, and my life sucks. Better?
I'm a misfit and a rebel. That much is obvious. My clothing consists of band tee shirts, boot cut jeans, combat boots, leather jackets, denim jackets, and graphic tees. I'm always carrying my iPod and headphones, to escape from the general boringness of school. I have a gold serpent ear wrap cuff on my left ear, and a tattoo of a skull and crossbones between my shoulder blades.
My hair is a reddish brown color, it's choppy and slightly wavy, and is shoulder length. I have side swept bangs, and my hair overall looks pretty messy.
My face is a strange mix of delicate and harsh features. I have thick and elegantly arching brown eyebrows, high cheekbones dotted with freckles, tan skin, a harsh square jaw, a sharp nose with freckles sprinkled across it, a prominent chin, almond-shaped hazel eyes fringed with long dark eyelashes, full red lips usually pulled into a scowl or sneer, a swan-like neck, a prominent collarbone, broad shoulders, longer arms, average height, medium length legs, medium length torso, pretty muscular, curvy (ugh...I've had multiple guys ask to buy me a drink), and often slouched.
I don't fit in at school, mostly because I think that things like Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Boy Bands, and makeup are pointless bullshit. I have approximately zero friends, probably because of my snide remarks, bad attitude, and my tendency to push people away.
I'm allergic to peppy people, makeup addicts, drama, and gossip girls. Which is basically what Athena High is all about.
Don't let the name fool you. 99.9% percent of the people who go here are idiots. I mean, I've got Pinky the Makeup Addicted Future Model on my left, and Hair Gel Commercial Jockboy on my right. What could be worse than that, you ask. A whole SCHOOL of them.
The worst part is, they're all robots. They do as they're instructed, they complete their homework, they don't question anything anyone does, they live their petty little pointless lives in the same old routine, with their biggest problem being losing a football game or breaking a nail. Have you ever thought about how your life is planned and mapped out in front of you, how every step of your life is controlled, how much of a prisoner you really are to the government, your teachers, anyone who tells you what to do? They call America the land of the free, yet our lives are so controlled, how can we be truly free? I plan to be free of these chains. I don't follow rules....I break them.
Chapter 1
I bobbed my head to the beat of the music coming from my headphones. P!nk of course. My favorite musical artist.
"Na na na na na na na, na na na na na na.
I guess I just lost my husband,
I don't know where he went.
So I'm gonna drink my money,
I'm not gonna pay his rent. (Nope)
I've gotta brand new attitude,
And I'm gonna wear it tonight.
I'm gonna get in trouble,
I wanna start a fight!
So, so what!
I'm still a rockstar,
I got my rock moves,
And I don't need you,
And guess what?
I'm having more fun,
Now that we're done,
And you're a tool so...so what?
The waiter just took my table and gave it to Jessica Simp,
Guess I'll go sit with Tomboy----"
I yelped in surprise, almost falling out of my chair. Slowly, I turned off my headphones, happily anticipating the daily verbal battle with my English teacher, Mrs. Fisher.
"Are you listening to your headphones AGAIN?!" Mrs. Fisher growled, stalking towards me.
"No, I strapped two donuts to my ears." I retorted, reclining back in my seat.
"Don't you get smart with me!" Fish said, reaching the back of the room where my desk was located. She tapped her long pink nail on my desk.
"Why not? I thought the school wanted us to be smart." I replied.
"After school detention!" She screeched in her nails-on-chalkboard voice and handed me a pink slip of paper.
Ugh...she always has to go and ruin my fun, doesn't she?
Mrs. Fisher is a petite, round, grey haired, squinty eyed, glasses wearing, pink loving, fun hating, Roxanne hating, Devil. Only in fun size.
"Somehow...that wasn't hard to predict..." I mumbled under my breath, snatching the paper out of the wrinkled crone's hand.
The rest of my day went just about the same way, with my science teacher Ms. Ranier screaming at me for not getting my work done, and in the process, almost burning down the school, my math teacher Mr. Johnston glaring at me disapprovingly while collecting homework, which I had neglected to do, unlike everyone else in the class, my social studies teacher Mr. Yangko asking me all these stupid questions then exploding when I gave him a stupid answer, my giant PE teacher Ms. Gibbee blowing her whistle in my face and screaming at me to move faster, my art teacher Mr. Dalson calling my attitude "nefarious" and my artwork "grotesque," honestly, I have no clue why he and my ELA teacher don't switch places....my ELA teacher Mr. Aramat lectured me on "Being respectful" and "Putting Effort into my Work."
Soon enough, the day was over, and it was time for detention.

Dr Hooss

Senior Member
I like both the conversational tone and flow of this piece. How ever I would personally spend slightly less time on personal description from the MC (though more a personal taste thing). Also maybe not quite so much of the quoted song lyrics, personally a big fan of using song lyrics at the start of a chapter, but it needs to be shorter.

Also the first line of chapter 1 "My favorite musical artist." The word music is superfluous. My favorite artist, is more concise and will ease the flow of your opening.

Other than that it flows nicely.