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View Full Version : I need constructive crititsism (fail at spelling >.<)


Scarlet the Heroine
10-10-2010, 07:15 AM
I'm writting a story but I need critisism on what I need to improve on.

Full Moon

Info

I hate my life. No, I loathe my life. You may be wondering why I say this, right? Well, I can't tell you. The secret I carry is just that, a secret. I can't tell my parents, my sister, or even admit it to myself. So, why would you think I would tell you; a stranger I've never met and probabuly never will.

I have three secrets that I can never tell anyone. Three secrets I hoped I would take to my grave in some remote graveyard. That's if my parents pay for my "final expenses." Mom might, but dad...

You know, I really hate my parents. Maybe because mom would always whisper sweet nothings to me consisting of any and all variations of "I hate you and whish you were never born." Or maybe it's because the only love I felt from him was the love of his belt, whipping me until I bled. Oh, yes, he belt loved causing me pain. Good old mom and dad, I hope you will read this someday, so that way you can finally feel sorry for what you did to me! Then again, maybe you'll feel ashamed and explain to all your stuck-up, rich friends that I am lying just to get attention. Yeah, mom, go ahead and curse my existance: go ahead dad, call me retarted and delusional. "I'm sorry folks," he would say, "she's just lying to make us look bad and to make you think she was helpless.

Well done, dad, I hope you go choke on a chicken bone.

Chapter One
Date: October 31; my birthday

Today, I was supposed to get a bunch of cards from distant relatives who can never spell my name right, and maybe even have cake with vanilla icecream while hanging out with a couple of my friends. That's what birthdays are supossed to be like, right?

Instead, I get a bunch of whippings from dad's leather snake for getting a bad grade on a test. "One whip for every point your laziness cost you." He would say as he made me scream. Sure, I passed with a solid 95, but that was 5 points away from being acceptible.

After dad's "present" I go up to my room and collaspe on the floor. Mom will go crazy when she sees I'm getting blood all over her carpet, but I don't really care.

"You know, you've got to be the most retarded person I know." Right on cue, my sister is in my doorway; my "perfect" and "flawless" sister who never gets anything less than perfect on everything she does. Instead of arguing, I just lay there with my face down and my butt bleeding crimson waterfalls.

Brittany gives my side a good kick and leaves. Everyone likes to think Brittany is an angel and I'm the spawn of the devil. However, it amazes me that no one sees the small cuts on the inside of her elbows and on her wrists. Brittany's only flaw is the woman's razor she hides in her dresser.

Later On In the Night; same day

Some birthday that was. First, I get whipped. Second, I faint in my room at the sight of my own blood, Third, I wake up to mom screaming when she sees me laying there and screams at the very top of her perfect lungs "my carpet! Damn you, Cara, damn you!" I told you she'd be upset about the stupid carpet...

Now, I'm sitting naked in the tub and waiting for the bleeding to stop. The water around me is stained red with my blood and ripples slightly every time one of my tears mixes with it. In my room, across the hall, I hear mom shampooing the rug and cursing under her breath.

I close my eyes and pray to whoever will listen to kill me now and get me away from this hell.

I wake up to the sounds of the city. I check the time; 3:00 am. Mom, dad, and Brittany will still be asleep. I, of course, am awake because of my inescapable fear that I'm going to be murdered by either a burglar, rapist, mass murdered, or worse...my dad. Because of this, I only sleep about three to four hours at a time.

Sirens come screaming past my second story window, advertising the head-lines for tomorrow's newspaper. I wonder what it is this time. A drive-by? A drug deal gone bad? Raping? Who knows? Knowing the Big Apple, all the phycos out in the messed up world we live in come here to admire others' work or to start their own killing spree. Come to think of it, I guess we're all phycos to willingly live in a place like New York.

Date: November 1; Monday

The annoyingly yellow bus crawls to a screeching halt infront of 332 Franklin Drive and opens its yawning, yellow mouth. Brittany is the first to get on, I'm the second. As usual, everyone smiles at Brittany and I get the cold shoulder. She sits with her friends, Tasha and Kiana, and starts telling them about what happened last night, starting with "you'll never guess what Cara did." Not wanting to have memories of last night resurface, I slink to the back of the bus and stare at the rapidly fading apartment building, wishing I was anywhere but here.


That's all I got so far. What do you think? Good, bad, needs work?

jenny
10-10-2010, 07:39 AM
I'm writting a story but I need critisism on what I need to improve on.

Full Moon

Info

I hate my life. No, I loathe my life. You may be wondering why I say this, right? Well, I can't tell you. The secret I carry is just that, a secret. I can't tell my parents, my sister, or even admit it to myself. So, why would you think I would tell you; a stranger I've never met and probabuly never will.

I have three secrets that I can never tell anyone. Three secrets I hoped I would take to my grave in some remote graveyard. That's if my parents pay for my "final expenses." Mom might, but dad...

You know, I really hate my parents. Maybe because mom would always whisper sweet nothings to me consisting of any and all variations of "I hate you and whish you were never born." Or maybe it's because the only love I felt from him was the love of his belt, whipping me until I bled. Oh, yes, he belt loved causing me pain. Good old mom and dad, I hope you will read this someday, so that way you can finally feel sorry for what you did to me! Then again, maybe you'll feel ashamed and explain to all your stuck-up, rich friends that I am lying just to get attention. Yeah, mom, go ahead and curse my existance: go ahead dad, call me retarted and delusional. "I'm sorry folks," he would say, "she's just lying to make us look bad and to make you think she was helpless.

Well done, dad, I hope you go choke on a chicken bone.

Chapter One
Date: October 31; my birthday

Today, I was supposed to get a bunch of cards from distant relatives who can never spell my name right, and maybe even have cake with vanilla icecream while hanging out with a couple of my friends. That's what birthdays are supossed to be like, right?

Instead, I get a bunch of whippings from dad's leather snake for getting a bad grade on a test. "One whip for every point your laziness cost you." He would say as he made me scream. Sure, I passed with a solid 95, but that was 5 points away from being acceptible.

After dad's "present" I go up to my room and collaspe on the floor. Mom will go crazy when she sees I'm getting blood all over her carpet, but I don't really care.

"You know, you've got to be the most retarded person I know." Right on cue, my sister is in my doorway; my "perfect" and "flawless" sister who never gets anything less than perfect on everything she does. Instead of arguing, I just lay there with my face down and my butt bleeding crimson waterfalls.

Brittany gives my side a good kick and leaves. Everyone likes to think Brittany is an angel and I'm the spawn of the devil. However, it amazes me that no one sees the small cuts on the inside of her elbows and on her wrists. Brittany's only flaw is the woman's razor she hides in her dresser.

Later On In the Night; same day

Some birthday that was. First, I get whipped. Second, I faint in my room at the sight of my own blood, Third, I wake up to mom screaming when she sees me laying there and screams at the very top of her perfect lungs "my carpet! Damn you, Cara, damn you!" I told you she'd be upset about the stupid carpet...

Now, I'm sitting naked in the tub and waiting for the bleeding to stop. The water around me is stained red with my blood and ripples slightly every time one of my tears mixes with it. In my room, across the hall, I hear mom shampooing the rug and cursing under her breath.

I close my eyes and pray to whoever will listen to kill me now and get me away from this hell.

I wake up to the sounds of the city. I check the time; 3:00 am. Mom, dad, and Brittany will still be asleep. I, of course, am awake because of my inescapable fear that I'm going to be murdered by either a burglar, rapist, mass murdered, or worse...my dad. Because of this, I only sleep about three to four hours at a time.

Sirens come screaming past my second story window, advertising the head-lines for tomorrow's newspaper. I wonder what it is this time. A drive-by? A drug deal gone bad? Raping? Who knows? Knowing the Big Apple, all the phycos out in the messed up world we live in come here to admire others' work or to start their own killing spree. Come to think of it, I guess we're all phycos to willingly live in a place like New York.

Date: November 1; Monday

The annoyingly yellow bus crawls to a screeching halt infront of 332 Franklin Drive and opens its yawning, yellow mouth. Brittany is the first to get on, I'm the second. As usual, everyone smiles at Brittany and I get the cold shoulder. She sits with her friends, Tasha and Kiana, and starts telling them about what happened last night, starting with "you'll never guess what Cara did." Not wanting to have memories of last night resurface, I slink to the back of the bus and stare at the rapidly fading apartment building, wishing I was anywhere but here.


That's all I got so far. What do you think? Good, bad, needs work?


I found a couple of grammer mistakes in the info area. and some in the main part. But efinatly in the info part.
and I'm kinda iffy on your diolage. On how you're using it, at least.

Other than that, pretty awesome. keep going...just touch up on your diolage..

Ryaque
10-10-2010, 11:40 AM
Wow, Scarlet, this is a little dark, but still very good. I like it.