Readers and writers out there, what do you think?
Jul 28, 2009 by Weasley: My Anti-drug | Posted in Books & Authors
I have an opinion for a drama/romance story but I haven't really smoothed out all of the details. This is an exerpt from the first chapter...what do you about?
Today was the day that I was going to end my life. As soon as the familiar thoughts entered my mind, the bell rang and I directly stood up and left class.
I scuttled through the sea of unfamiliar faces as they laughed, chatted, and happily greeted one another. I’m trusty no one even noticed I was among them. It didn’t matter though. Not anymore.
I slowly and methodically cleaned out my locker. I was momentarily chuffed with myself with how little I kept in there. It was only a few books, loose papers and one spare sweater that I mistakenly forgotten here the day before. I wall-to-wall it, and my books along with the loose sheets in my backpack and closed the locker door.
It was strange. The knowledge that I was never usual to see this locker, this hall, the school again, left me a bit saddened. It wasn’t that I was going to be missed, or that it was going to escape me, the school, the hallways, the lockers, the sea or unfamiliar people became a custom, almost a habit of analysis. I often wondered why, as I watched the organize of giggling girls skip past, why and how are they so happy?
It doesn’t matter anymore, I suppose I would never notice their secret.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and ducked through the crowd of unfamiliar faces. Soon I was out of the school. I turned around, looking up at it one last period I smiled weakly.
“So long.” I muttered, and made my way home.
~*~*~
It was the beginning of the end.
I broke my heel. The admirable black shoe that I begged and pleaded my parents for, where in two pieces in my hand. And as I held it close to my thorax ', I could almost feel tears spring to my eyes.
“Oh get a grip.” I heard someone say behind me.
I didn’t even bother turning around to see who it was. I sighed, and placed my shoes in my bag.
I’m gratified (or as glad as I could be) that it was springtime, and that it hadn’t rained in a few days. The ground was nice and dry for my barefoot walk to my car.
“Who wears heels to secondary anyway?”
“I had a presentation, and I thought I would dress up.” I scowled as I walked out of school.
My friend smiled and shook her well-spring.
“Need a ride?”
“Naw, my mom’s picking me up, were going prom dress shopping.”
I grinned. “Call me as in a wink as you get one. We don’t want a repeat of the Donna-Carla fiasco.”
My friend shuttered. “As soon as I get one.” She repeated as she nodded gravely.
“See you tomorrow.” I hopped to my car, and threw my bag on the back home. I waved to a few people who peeked into my passenger’s window, and backed out of the driveway.
The whole way home, I tried to be communicated up with an excuse that would effectively explain why the heel of my $300 pair of shoes had broken off. Every excuse I came up with, I could ascertain my mother saying; “Why did you wear them to school in the first place?”
I sighed and thought of places on the way were I could fix it, but came up unadorned.
Maybe if I-
No sooner that I began my next thought a dark figure darted in front of my car.
I slammed on my brakes and swerved to evade the person who inexplicably stood there and watched as I nearly crashed into a tree.
I felt my head and neck prod forward as I stopped suddenly. Inches away from the tree, the front of my car, miraculously not dented, hissed angrily.
I gasped-a delayed response to nearly hitting someone-and sat in my car a few more moments, my hands gripped tightly at the steering wheel.
I unwrapped my fingers around the whirl location and pushed my hair out of my face. Then stepped out of the car, onto the cold pavement to examine the damage done.
I massaged my neck. It looked lovely decent, no harm done, I made a mental note to have my father check it further when I finally got home.
Deep in my thoughts I didn’t awareness someone standing very close beside me.
~*~*~
I’ve heard that in the moments before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. I was waiting for that moment. Even as the car sped toward me; I closed my eyes waiting….waiting….
When I opened them I saw the car swing toward a tree.
“Huh.” I let out a breath. The driver stopped just in time.
I wasn’t expecting the car to upon down this path, nor was I expecting myself to walk in front of it. I suppose that when I had made up my mind to end my life that day, I did not come up with a method of how the task would be carried out. I sighed, as I brown study wryly to myself; I could always try something else…
In the meantime, I should perhaps apologize.
I walked up to it the car as I saw a girl come out.
She was muttering to herself, barefoot. I opened my opening to speak, but words failed me. I hadn’t the slightest idea of what I was supposed to or going to say.
I cleared my throat.
The crumpet gasped and looked up. She surv
I hadn’t the slightest idea of what I was supposed to or going to say.
I cleared my throat.
The popsy gasped and looked up. She surveyed me, squinting a little, eying my hair, then my arms, finally, my legs and shoes.
I stood there not positive of how to react.
“Are you…all right?” She asked uncertainly.
“Yes.” I muttered.
“Are you…sure?” She asked again in the same halting tone.
“Yes.” I muttered again, exasperated. This girl was getting on my nerves. I began to walk away.
“Hey!” She called.
I continued to constitutional. I had better things to do than to exchange foolish utterances with a person who would just make fun of me behind my back.
“Hey! Do you need a take in or something?”
I stopped. Very few people have offered me a ride, and usually when they do, it is only a joke.
I turned around. The girl was standing beside her car with her arms crossed. She almost looked unquiet. I raised an eyebrow, wondering if she was actually expecting me to get in the car with her.
I raised an eyebrow, wondering if she was actually in a family way me to get in the car with her. I started to walk toward her, slowly, reluctantly.
“You…want to give me a ride? Home?”
She was looking at me strangely now. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips tightened.
“Yes. Why? Are you jittery of the way I drive?” She sighed. Her face relaxed. “It’s the least I can do. I did almost kill you.”
Almost.
: $30.00 
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