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AmberSan
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#1
Old 09-02-2009, 06:01 PM

The Double spaced paragraphs are for when I submitted it somewhere were indents didn't work. Therfore making it sort of difficult to read. I'm thinking of writing another story and putting these into a small book of stories. What do you think? I haven't written in a long time and my grammar has gotten a bit worse compaired to how it used to be. Less talk, more story! Sorry for the ramble!


The rain taps rapidly on the metal roof above. I look cautiously out the window of this small forest shack. The owner is gone and he won’t be home for a while. I pick up a pistol from the drawer in his room. The cold metal against my shaking skin. I don’t care anymore, I’m sick and tired of this all. I close the drawer as it was, I don’t care if he notices. I sneak out the back door and pace through the rain.

The cold droplets hit my face and it’s like every time a drop falls, I hear it. Like a giant band of percussion instruments in my ears. I shake my head and take off my hat and let my light brown ponytail drop down on my back. The pistol tucked inside my baggy shirt held up by my belt. My head hurts and I don’t know why. I’ve made up my mind and I’m going to go through this, I have to. I can’t live in this hectic household anymore. I don’t care what anyone says about how ‘bad’ their life is, I’m doing something about mine even though it could be seen as ‘wrong’.

I open the front door, they’re in their room talking. They’re voices that have stung my soul for the last time. Their laugher that will no longer be the result of my anguish. No longer will they treat me like some damn animal. I walk up the stairs and knock on the door. Sweat camouflaged by remaining rain droplets, runs down my forehead. I will go through with this, no backing out now.

“Mom” I choke. Why the hell is it hard to speak? “Dad…”

I wait and a few seconds later I’m replied with a “Screw off, we’re busy”. Heh, I should have known I’d get a reply like this. I smirk a bit over my stupidity and let out a sigh.

“It’s important,” I reply. What was a few seconds for them to reply, seemed like eternity.

“How can anything that has to do with you, be important?” My mother sneers. I can hear them chuckling. Oh how I hate it when they do that. Being laughed at for no reason other than because they think their remarks are so ‘witty’.

“Could you just take some time out of your wonderful like and open this door?” I try to sound calm but I hear a little frustration in my voice. My heart is pumping faster and it feels like I’m going to puke. I don’t care if I do.

I hear my father curse as his footsteps come towards the dark oak door. Time feels like it’s going in slow motion. I reach my hand behind my back and under my shirt. I feel the metal against my fingers and grab it. I watch the door open.

“What do you wa--” BANG! I watch my father’s body fall limp onto the carpeted floor. A one hit kill as people would say. I shoot once more to make sure. My mother’s shrieks fill the room but I can’t understand it. All the sounds are blurred but my vision is clear. It’s locked on my target. I shoot her.

Taking in large puffs of air, I see what I’ve done. My parents, the ones who brought me into this world. The ones who spent their days telling me how useless and how stupid I am. The ones who hit me for any single reason they could think of. I shook my head and went into their room, dodging the puddles of red liquid that started spreading itself on the floor. I look under the bed and take out a box.

I open it to reveal all my medical papers from ‘that’ place. They all said I was crazy, delusional. My parents denied everything and they believed them. I’m not crazy, I’m not retarded, and I’m not weak. I take the box with me, my pistol stuck back in my belt. I get a hammer from my father’s work den and I smash the front door handle off. Someone probably heard this, I better leave. I run out the back door and hop the backyard fence. I think I’m going to take a walk.

As I walk through the almost deserted streets of this small town, I manage to drop the pistol and hammer in the sewer. Have fun finding that. I will probably get caught but I don’t care about that. I feel like I have accomplished something great.

I walk around for what seems like hours then I decide to go back home… I hear sirens. I quickly change my expression to surprise and worry as I run towards the house. Cameras, police, ambulances. I try to get past the yellow tape in an attempt to ‘see what the hell is going on’ but I’m held back by a man in a police uniform.

“This is my house!” I scream, fake tears running down my cheeks. “What happened!” The officer asks my name and I tell him. Soon after he explains about how someone must have broken into my house and shot my parents. I make myself burst into tears, “Why does this have to happen to me?!” The officer tries to comfort me and tells me to wait at the back of one of the opened ambulances and sit down.

I watch the authorities search my house and speak on their radios. I manage to keep a smile off my face. I’m not crazy, I just killed my parents. I’m not retarded, I’m just sixteen. Say as you will but for me, for once in my life, right here and right now I am at pure bliss.

-My friend said I'm one messed up child to have thought of this while brushing my teeth before bed. XD

WoodSpell
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#2
Old 09-02-2009, 11:43 PM

Not bad writing but you mis-typed a word in paragraph 8. You typed like but I thnk you meant life.
If I'm allowed to offer some constructive criticism, I like to offer this: If you wanted to add another dimension to your "teen angst" you could rework it so that the parents don't get a chance to speak before she shoots them and play up the fact she's been classified as crazy to let the reader wonder if she really is or not.

 



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