We had been friends for as long as I could remember. We used to sit for hours never uttering a single word. Just thinking. Thinking thoughts to each other ,words even each believing that the other could understand and reply through there thoughts.
Molly and I were both the same age at this time (12) we lived in LA right next door to each other in fact. We shared all the same hobbies and also the same dreams to one day grow up to be a successful photographer. Every night after school we would meet at our secret hide out in the woods with our cameras. We had planned to build up or portfolios until we reached the age of 15 then we would approach wedding planners and offer our services to them.
When the morning of Monday 14th of July 2005 came around all of that could have changed in an instant for me. I woke as usual for school but for some reason that day seemed different to me for some reason but a carried on as normal. As I walked down the cold stainless steel spiral stairs I noticed that my fathers coffee cup was not by the door like it normally is but I just figured that he must have been running late that morning so took it with him instead (oh how I wish my theory was correct) so I headed on to the kitchen only to find the coffee cup still next to the kettle and Mother lying in a heap on the ground. She looked a mess. She was crying and mumbling something I could’t quite make out what she was trying to say. As I got closer I could (if I concentrated hard) make out what she was saying. “Hannah I’m sorry, I’m really really sorry” at first I didn’t have a clue why she was saying this but soon it hit me. He had gone. Father had left. Mother sat up so I hugged her harder at this point I noticed a little plastic stick in the garbage bin. I didn’t want to say anything not yet but it just came out “mother what is that” I asked. She glanced at it quickly then glared at me and cried some more and whispered “I’m... I’m, I’m pregnant. WHAT! I screeched. She backed of slowly and cowered in a corner and I noticed bruising on her arms. Did father do that to you? I asked she looked at me and nodded slowly then stood up and walked away. I wanted to follow her but my feet just wouldn’t let me. I realise now that it was properly for the best but it didn’t seem that way at the time. I felt lost, lonely and helpless.
I didn’t go to school that day. Or the week that followed. It didn’t feel important to me. I just had to make sure that Mother was ok, but by now seemed to be coping a bit better and wanted me to go back to school. I was reluctant to go back at first. I knew that I would have to explain a lot to people and I still felt that I would be explaining things I didn’t quite understand my self. All the same I when back just the make Mother happy.
So the next morning I woke up at 6am and walked down the cold stainless steel spiral stairs. Thoughts rushed into my head of the last time I got up for school and finding Mother on the kitchen floor. The coffee cup still in its place. I wished I could turn back the time. Just far enough to stop Father from leaving. As I turned the silver handle on the kitchen door I could hear music. I hadn’t heard music since it all happened. I could smell the breakfast Mother was cooking us stronger than ever before.
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thats as far as i have got so far and i was just wondering if it was any good and weather i should continue with itCan you rate my story opening?
The idea is good. I defiantly like the way you opened it, and how it grabs your attention. There are some misspellings and grammatical errors though all stories have those and it's an ease fix, just ask some one to edit it. I might add a little more depth when talking about her friend, perhaps throw her friend in there to describe what transpired there during the 'incident'. Over all it's a good start though, definitely attention grabbing and thats the most important part of an opening.
good luck! Can you rate my story opening?
A four!! Defiantly!!
I think you should try to branch out a bit in your voculabary and speech structure, and your sentences are much too long. You have rushed into the plot and your puncuation and spelling is all over the place. Read some books, and try to find your own writing style.
it is i can't even explain because brought me to tears it is devasting
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