Critism, yes? And for visuals, my character is only twelve to thirteen (haven%26#039;t decided which one yet). Enjoy (if that%26#039;s even possible). =]
~~~~~~~
It was merely a mask to hide behind to play make-believe with, to look into the mirror and prove to myself I was just like everyone else and I was not alone, to wear and pretend like I was like I wasn’t any different than my friends at school. A monster rejecting the reality and truth of their nature by wearing a gleaming halo and the white dress of purity, a pitiful attempt to protect themselves from their own being. The cloak, an object used to hide the real character of their being. A pretender. A liar. A monster. And after ten years of playing the same game, it’s effects began to wear off. I was still the same no matter how bright a smile I beamed across the room. I was still the same fiend despite how many helpful hands I gave. Still the same. Always the same.
The praise—like mockery, haunting me and pestering me until my walls of fairy tales came crashing down to reveal the reality I had hid behind it until I rebuilt it again from more bricks made of comforting lies I had told to make myself feel better.
Hiding from your own self is never an easy thing to do.
***
The car jostled softly with the occasional blemishes in the asphalt. My view remained in darkness from behind my closed eyes, shrouding myself in a world where to learn your environment, you had to use your other four sense. I laid back against the head rest of the passenger seat, drowning out Linda’s constant garble. The soft hum of the tires on the asphalt filled the car underneath of her talking.
“I think they really liked me message,” she announced, a tinge of pride was a bit the obvious in her tone.
It had been approximately seven minutes of driving since leaving Fawne Church of the Nazarene, low traffic. If anything, we would be passing by the pastures, just another ten minutes until we arrived at the house.
“Darcy, honey, what did you think of the message?” she said a bit softer.
“It was great, mom,” I mumbled. After listening to the same sermon four times in a row, it really loses its initial impact, which was poor to begin with due to the fact that I was too lazy to help her out and tell her what needed to be worked on before presenting. A fault on my part, but not every sermon can be in the best. Now there was one thing: she always dragged me along to church to listen to something I had already listened to half a dozen times before simply for the purpose to be complimented. Another part to it was that I hadn’t even been Christian, an Atheist under the Christian clothing, the simple fact that gnawed on my relationship with my mother, being a proud Christian and preacher.
The incline of the car steepened as we chugged over the only hill in all of Fawne as we broke through the grove of trees and welcomed the warmth of the midday sun as it danced upon my face. I let a soft smile tug at one corner of my lips, a habit I was fond of due to the wonderful way to show how you felt without having someone else know. A sense of privacy, almost, in this world of exploitation of one’s emotions. I let myself drift as we rolled down the incline, butterflies swarmed in my stomach. I liked that hill.
Linda zoomed the car left and surged onto the chalky gravel. I remained in my tomb of darkness, left to discover the world without the help of my eyes and a secret lair to think in peace. Amazing what the mind can do when trained.
~~~~~~~
I know it cuts off really abruptly and that it%26#039;s kind of boring, but it%26#039;ll get better as it proceeds, it%26#039;ll it better quickly, as soon as they arrive home. But before I get that far, I want to know if it%26#039;s any good. It%26#039;s just a draft and I don%26#039;t mind changing things or starting completely over or anything, so feel free to be as harsh as you%26#039;d like when critisizing. And when giving feedback, I%26#039;m not fishing for compliments so don%26#039;t give me the usual, %26quot;I like it!%26quot; run down.
P.S. I%26#039;m only twelve, so do realize I may not be very good yet. Ahaha, I like giving my age at the end so then it won%26#039;t be a turn off when someone first clicks on this post. XD|||It%26#039;s not bad! Keep in mind that you%26#039;re young, so you%26#039;ve got a lot of time to improve. I went to see Scott Westerfeld (a writer) read some of his books, and a young girl asked him how to improve her own writing. He said to keep in mind the %26quot;Million Words%26quot; rule. He said that the first million words you write will be always be crap. So the goal is to write as much as you can when you%26#039;re young, so you can get those million words out of the way. Keep writing, keep practicing, and you%26#039;ll be an awesome writer someday.
I would also recommend doing some research; read Jim Butcher%26#039;s blog, Scott Westerfeld%26#039;s blog--they are awesome resources for writers.
Good luck!|||wow is all i have to say
xxx
