Part X

He laid down beside me briefly
we listened to the sounds of morning
I with the wondering ears of desire for life
my mind accepting the truths that had been
pushing me under for oh so many weeks…
My Nurse, (I call her Rose, and she answers…)
has helped me to the tub and I am up – sitting on my own
wearing a summer dress, my hair falling loosely
on my shoulders. Unsure of balance I wait for her to help me
and we slowly leave the bedroom, I look around
Walls look unfamiliar, but comforting; it is time, to come to terms
with myself and the man with whom I have been keeping company.

Seated at a large table; the bag in front of me…
Unsure of its contents and vaguely fearful, I ask for it to be opened
to reveal:
A white sundress is folded neatly, a camera, wallet , worn leather sandals
and a ragged looking notebook, a key chain with 3 keys, and a wedding band.
as the sundress is unfolded blood stains become visible, I inhale deeply
as my shoulders relax gently closing my eyes holding on … to my new found strength
“The wallet, Let me see the wallet”… my hands are clumsy, “please, open it for me….”
The pictures in the wallet look so familiar, but names are still eluding me.
The child, yes that is the child! Oh how I miss her…
This is my driver’s license? That is me? I focus on the name ….Antoinette, my name…
Toni Sparling…
“Burn the dress”
I need to see the pictures on the camera…
Rose is looking at me holding the dress… a question in her eyes
“Burn it!”
Shrugging, she puts the dress back in the bag, trying to hide
her mounting curiosity. Dutifully she takes the bag and some old
newspapers puts them in the burn barrel outside and lights it up.
Smoldering; eventually the smoke dies down, the air clears only ashes remain

I am weak, I believe, in time I will regain my strength if not fully, enough
to get by.
…I could hit erase, delete all the pictures on the camera,
no, I will wait
when Mitch comes home I will ask him to look at them
with me, just the two of us.
I am tired now, I think I will lie down for a bit…
…Lots to think about
lots to remember, and just now I am daydreaming,
about a gal named Toni and a guy named Mitch and hoping
that they are reality .. Not a figment of my narcoleptic imagination…
The notebook remains
In the kitchen
on the table
… unopened, atop it; a wedding band
and 3 keys on a simple key ring.

a normal housefly lands on the keys, momentarily, before taking its place
on the wall
above the clock.
forgot my link back to the previous.. here you go…

http://ca.answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AlyOVVg0EF321m3ulX9TNNYazKIX;_ylv=3?qid=20090502191952AAoGFv7

It actually is not a poem it is prose, and I am grateful you took the time to read it, thank your for your opinion, good night, sleep well.

You have kept my interest up the whole way through.
I can only praise the prose.

This is written without any rhyme scheme whatsoever, and I don’t know if it should be changed to include one. Thoughts? ConCrit?

———
The kitchen’s unfamiliar with the lights off
Even with the windows open
I can hear the rain fall gently on the sidewalk
As a distant car door closes
There’s a light on somewhere further down the hall
Reflecting off the off-white walls
An alarm clock screaming softly through closed doors
Again announcing no one’s home
Everyone seems to be getting old faster
It’s early, take the kettle off
The clock on the wall is lying and broken
Or else I’ve missed tomorrow
I keep playing the same sad song in my head
Over and over and over
———

I think form should flow from the poem so if an idea for a rhyme pattern didn’t push itself at you as you wrote this then I wouldn’t go looking for it now.

There are some nice lines here that you could ruin by trying to impose form for form’s sake on it. I do think there are some things you might want to think about here. I don’t think the lack of punctuation combined with the old tradition of starting each line with a capitol letter works well for you here. Not knowing where to come to a stop in the reading can change meanings completely. A stop after line one and line three gives a different idea and feeling from stops at the end of two and four. Also, not using any punctuation denies you the option of putting a stop, minor (,) or major (.) in the middle of a line which might sometimes be useful for increasing the impact of an idea. ( You do slip one in in line ten)

The "everyone seems to be getting old faster" seems to fly in from left field with no structure for it to ride. If that’s the main idea you want to convey, then I think you were getting closer poetically with the clock that is lying and broken, the possibility of having missed a day and only need to sharpen up that image to carry the poem.

As always, critique is an opinion. This is mine. You are free to use it, lose it, or give it to Goodwill.

I recently finished my first book on paper and I’m now putting it onto my flashdrive. I just wanted to know what you think of it so far and things I should keep in mind while writing the rest of it. Don’t comment on my grammar and spelling because I havn’t edited it yet. Thanks in advance ( :
Be as harsh as you want but keep in mind I’m 13.

The Darkness, Chapter One
Normal, the least liked word in my vocabulary. Hardly anything about me was normal, and that’s the way I liked it. I liked the way my non normal hair sparkled even when fog blanketed the earth and wiped out the sun. I liked the way people stared at me for my unusual way of dressing. It made me giddy with excitement when guys whistled at me when I walked down the streets and made comments a normal mortal wouldn’t hear. And I loved that I could do anything and make anyone do anything I wanted. Yes, I knew how conceited that sounded and I liked it that way also. The only thing that could sound even more conceited about that was my immense beauty that all witches and wizards possessed. But was I conceited to the point that all I talked and thought about was me. No.
Slowly I climbed out of my extremely warm bed and looked out the window. Rain drizzled down from the heavens and once more the earth was blanketed with fog like most mornings. Jeez, did every single day have to start out dark and dreary in Grand Marias? Apparently, seeing that this made it the seventh day straight with crappy weather starting the morning. Shaking it off, I glanced over to my beeping alarm clock. Amazingly it said that it was almost six in the morning, but I would never set a clock that early. I had no clue why in the world I would set a clock to wake me up at six. Usually I woke up around ten or later without a clock, even on some school days.
School, I shuddered realizing the reason for waking. Today was my first day of non magical school, in other words, mortal high school. How fun. Classes started at different times in my world which also has a time difference than Grand Marias. Normally I would be getting out of my last class in Mizaray, and having to switch schedules was really starting to mess me up.
Looking around my room, the messiness stood out the most. Books and boxes from recently moving were scattered everywhere along with an unknown amount of crinkly brown paper that protected things in the boxes. Wooden furniture laid around the room at odd angles and in weird places. Finding the piece most important to me, an oak desk that always held my wand, I walked over to it. Sleep still clung to my movements, making the grace and finesse in my steps become mulled over as if I consumed a bit too much alcohol. Grabbing the wand I headed downstairs to get ready for school.
As soon as I hopped from the last step to the ground, I ran into the kitchen. The glass wall facing Lake Superior was laced in water ripples from the drizzle. One thing on the window blocked me from seeing the view. A piece of crinkled parchment taped to the window. From where I stood I could already see that it was a note. Walking over to it, the note read:
Emily,
Went to shopping to find new clothing that mortals approve of, and, find Alexa a school to attend. Have fun at your first day of school. The bus will arrive at seven thirty.
-Domi, Dimitri, and Alexandria

Great, I had to ride the bus and face the morning alone. Looking out the glass window once more I tried to calm myself. Small ripples disturbed the bays glass like water. I stared into those ripples, wanting them to wash away this new life I had to act like a good mortal girl in. I wanted the water to cleanse me of the days worry and make everything disappear except for my steady breathing. As usual it worked and I found myself mesmerized by the mortal nature. It deemed so much more soft and lush compared to that of Mizaray. The trees loomed with life and the forest floor was its own life giving utopia. Mizaray’s nature used to be like that once. Now it was altered and burned by the new king. Everything seemed fierce and well, doom like.
Soon I snapped out of the mesmerized state I forced myself into and made myself get ready.
Cool crisp air rushed against my face as I walked out the door. Droplets of dew stuck to me as tree branches hit me with their leaves. I felt at home in these woods, like they were a protected cocoon around me that I could be myself within. I let myself be one with nature as I looked down the daunting mile and a half driveway. I could see naught but forrest and sand from Domi would take away my wand and spell books. Those were my two most prized possessions in this world besides my broom, the Lightning Strike 700.

I think that your story is intriguing and that you write well for your age. You’ve used some terms/words incorrectly, however; for instance, where you write …my steps become mulled over… to mull over means to think about; also, your use of the word deemed is incorrect; deem means to make a judgment. There are indeed some errors in grammar and punctuation, but proofreading may be the key to eliminating those; one I feel obligated to mention is your use of the verb laid; you may not understand that the past tense of lie is lay, not laid. I hope that you won’t think that I am being overly critical, but you asked for a critique of your story’s content. In that regard, I would appreciate your being more explanatory of the plot’s background. I have no clue as to who Domi, Dmitri, and Alexandra are or why suddenly you (the protagonist) are living in Grand Marias on the shores of Lake Superior, where or what Mizaray was/is. To hold my interest, I would want you to make the situation clearer. If you aspire to write for publication, a literary agent or publishing company will not be persuaded to represent or purchase your manuscript because you are only thirteen years old — they aren’t charitable; you must write an original, compelling novel if you hope to see it published, regardless your age! To reiterate, though, you do have definite potential as a writer. What you’ve written thus far is a rough draft; much altering and rewriting will be required in order to produce a professional manuscript, but you surely have the time to do so! Good luck! (I’ve written two novels so am aware of tedious task that making corrections can be — a "necessary evil", nonetheless!)

Way back in the 70s when I was about 6 or 7 the was this british comedy that I liked to watch as I thought one of the blokes in it was rather cute.

I think the show started about 8:00pm, and one particular evening
I was kind of impaitent and wanted the time to hurry up as there was still 20 mintues to go.

You know how 20 minutes can seem like two hours to a kid?
I somehow got it in my head that if I put the clock forward time would speed up and my show would start sooner.

So I dragged a kitchen chair over so I could reach the clock on the wall, and turned the knob on the back of the clock so the hands turned to 8:00.

Back then I remember thinking "Haha I’m so smart. This should work"
Of course it didn’t and I was rather annoyed, and the next 20 minutes seemed to drag by.

That memory sometimes pops up, plus I still remember what show it was and the guy’s name:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butterflies_(TV_series)

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nicholas_Lyndhurst

Anyone else done anything as dumb as that?

When I was 4 my dad gave me a dollar. I tore it in half and thought that I doubled my money. I thought I was super smart too. lol

So, I went to lunch with her yesterday and was being as kind as possible, just like all of you said. She ordered 2 bottles of wine in a cafe! She drank it all and kept on talking about how great New York is. When the wine hit her brain her speech got messy, so she asked me to talk her to Charlie’s house. Charlie came over around 7 o’clock and asked how it went with such horrible hate. I told him everything and he didn’t quite care he said " My mother likes anyone who allows her to get wasted like she was." He hates his mom! He told me stories about how she came drunk to one of his teacher parent conferences. How she had 2 glasses of wine ( both full) in her hands when she came to one of his piano recitals. He told me cheerfully she leaving today, but I told him to go meet her by the train but he didn’t listen. He started kissing me and he went a little too far and took my clothes off. Suddenly the doorbell rang and it was his mom! :,( I quickly put a robe on and he hid behind the kitchens walls. I opened the door and she was standing there crying "Charlie didn’t come visit me, I’m leaving today, do you know where he is? I told her " No, I just came out of the shower."
So she hugged me and the smile went from her face. " Your hairs not wet, your wearing a bra, and… is that your clothes on the couch!!" So she shoved into my house and started screaming Charlie’s name. He came out and took her outside came in and called a taxi and she just waited on the doorstep, when the taxi came she just left … What was that? Can I ever talk to her? I hate her anyway?

Wellllll… that’s what Mom – In – Law is all about.