Thanks alot for your input. It’s hard for me sometimes because I am trying to write my life story as a third party. I found when I thought of myself as Letisha and tried saying “I” and “we” it was hard for me not to get too emotionally involved and thus loose my train of thought. It is easier for me to write as a person from the outside looking in and it also allows me to embelish certain details to help the story flow more precisely. It’s hard to remember verbatum word for word what was said so many years ago. I also have other journal entries on my sight if you’d like to read them.
Non-fiction / Life Journal 5
Most weekends as a child were spent in a variety of places. On rare occasions I was allowed to stay home, and on even rarer occasions I spent the weekend over my Aunt Julie or Aunt Nancy’s house. Most weekends though, I spent over my grandmother’s house which was met with a mixture of joy and fright.
The day times at my grandmother’s, for the most part, were times where I could explore myself without any boundaries. Not like at home. I ran the street free of any rules except the one rule my mother gave me. Don’t go past the power boxes. See there was a power box in front of the second to the last house on both ends of the block. My grandmother’s house sat directly in the middle of the two.
So I had the whole length of the street to explore and there were plenty of children to play with there:
Tisha stood outside of the gate in front of her grandmother’s house near her grandpa’s gray truck which was parked on the street. She was using a piece of pink chalk to create a moat around the big gray castle that was her grandfather’s truck.
“Gentleman. This is the battle ground and we have to hold it. We have to defend Princess Tisha against the evil men that wish to destroy our empire! Are you with me,” she shouted as she held the chalk in the air like the greatest and most powerful of wands.
Her uncle, who was her same age, had allowed her to use his toy soldiers while they played outside. As usual he and the other boys were ignoring her as they tried to jump a ramp on their bicycles. She had tired of that game when they wouldn’t give her a try.
She supposed that suited her just fine. She had only recently learned to ride a bike and wasn’t all that interested in falling off of her bike while trying to jump that stupid ramp like those stupid boys. They were always doing things like practicing flips and skateboarding. Things that could hurt them and things she herself was scared to do. It was times like these that she missed her cousin Amber or her cousin Sabrina. At least with them she could play Barbies, even though they too were usually bossy about the way they played the game.
“But general Letisha, what if they are too powerful for us,” one of the little green soldiers suddenly asked. She turned to the man with a look of distain.
“Are you afraid! Do you not believe that the magical Princess Tisha is worth fighting for,” General Letisha admonished.
“I have heart! I will fight and die, but what if we fail,” the tough little soldier asked from his perch on the lip of the truck bed.
“Then we will die, but at least we will have tried,” General Letisha said dramatically and all the little soldiers cheered for their fearless general.
“Now come men, we must fortify the walls and continue to dig the trenches so that-“
“What are you doing?”
Tisha stopped mid-sentence and turned to see a girl standing behind her. She hadn’t even heard her step up. The girl was unlike any she had ever seen before. She was a girl only much… bigger. She had a pretty face and big brown eyes and had she been small like Tisha she would have undoubtedly been a dainty girl, but there was nothing dainty about this girl.
She was in a word… big. She was even bigger than the boys and Tisha smiled up at her. This could be very interesting.
“I’m just playing this game cause the boys won’t let me play with them,” Tisha responded before she stuck her hand out. “I’m Tisha, what’s your name?”
The girl looked at her hand for a moment like it was a foreign object before she put a hand up on her hip then reached out with her other. She shook Tisha’s hand awkwardly.
“I’m Choice and I just moved in with my Grandparents next door to yours,” she replied hooking a thump over her shoulder to indicate the house next to Tisha’s grandmother’s house where mean old Mr. Sam lived. Sam lived with his wife and his mean German Sheppard. No one ever ventured over into Sam’s yard, even if a favorite toy was lost to the depths of its lush greenness.
“You live there? Aren’t you afraid of the dog,” Tisha asked astonished that anyone would live there with that mean old man and his dog.
“Who Boogey? Naw. If you hit him on the nose he’ll leave you alone,” she replied.
“You hit him on the nose? Doesn’t he bite you? He growls every time I walk past your yard,” Tisha replied disbelieving. This had to be one tough girl if she would hit that big growling dog on the nose.
Choice looked her up and down now. “You one of them scary girls,” she asked as if she already knew the answer to the question.
“No. I ain’t scary,” Tisha replied defensively. She might have really been a scary person but she would certainly not have any one calling her that to her face.
“I bet you are one of those goody two shoes types,” she said skeptically.
“Nuh uh,” Tisha replied adamantly.
“I bet you are. I bet you don’t even cuss,” the girl said a hint of humor lighting her deep brown eyes. Her ponytail pulled her jet black hair back so tightly that her eyes looked a little almond shape like she was part Asian.
Tisha had to stop and blink at the statement the other girl had made. Tisha didn’t cuss. There were people on TV who cussed. Her mother cussed. Larry cussed, but if she ever cussed, she was sure that Larry or her mother would whop her good. She pursed her lips and crossed her arms in front of her unwilling to say that she had never cussed.
“Do you cuss,” she asked Choice instead.
Choice scoffed. “Of course I cuss. Everybody cusses,” she said with her hand still up on her hip.
“Do you cuss in front of your grandparents,” Tisha asked her.
“In front of them? I cuss Sam all the time,” she said with cool confidence.
“You call your Grandpa Sam,” Tisha asked even more astounded.
Choice laughed at the naive little girl with pigtails in her hair. “Girl. You are so green.”
Tisha looked at her arm to see if she was turning green and this made Choice laugh even harder. She looked at her angry now. “What does that mean,” Tisha asked.
“Green means new. You are as brand new as a newborn baby,” she replied evenly her smooth dark skin and gel slicked hair making her seem so much older and wiser than Tisha, though she could tell they were around the same age.
“I am not brand new. I am almost eight,” Tisha replied angrily.
“You are brand new and I am already eight and I know more about everything than you,” she replied seriously. She was a little frightening with her height and bulk. She towered over the smaller girl easily.
“Fine. You don’t have to play with me then,” Tisha said with a little hurt in her voice as she turned and picked up one of the toy soldiers and began inspecting it.
Choice shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t say that I didn’t want to play with you. I was just saying that you are one of those good girls,” she replied with a little less flash than her previous statements. Tisha turned back to her slowly.
“Is that a bad thing,” Tisha asked her uncertainly and Choice put a motherly hand on her shoulder as if she were years older than Tisha instead of just one.
“Nope. There ain’t nothing’ wrong with that. We’re just different is what. Don’t worry. I can teach you,” she said with a consoling smile though as if Tisha had some disease that could be cured.
“Okay,” Tisha replied with a renewed interest in playing with the girl.
“You want to come over to my yard. I have some popsicles that we could eat in the shade. Forget about those dumb old boys,” she said with a grin. Tisha returned the grin and went to play with Choice in her yard.
*
With Choice to play with the days began to go much better for Tisha at her Grandmother’s house. The boys couldn’t pick on her quite as much and if they tried to Choice would come to her aide. Most of the boys were afraid of Choice because she was bigger than them and if they tried to fight her, they usually lost. Not only was she big but she could fight and she was mean, and she could cuss, and she wasn’t afraid of anything, and Tisha wanted to be just like her.
Their friendship did come at a price though. At night, when Choice had to go home, Tisha was stuck at her Grandmother’s house all alone with her uncle. Her Uncle could hold a grudge a mile long. He remembered every time Choice or Tisha stood up to him and his friends and the nights became torture. It became sort of an amusing game to him.
Because her grandmother was sick and her grandfather was usually off working, her uncle Anthony was left pretty much in charge, even though he was only eight years old. Nighttime was the worst. Anthony had developed a clever way to get back at Tisha when it was time for bed. A nightly debate began about who would sleep where. Her grandmother’s house was big and creepy at night and the rats and cockroaches had pretty much free reign in the living room, kitchen, or din. Unless you wanted to wake up with a roach on your face, those place were out as potential places to sleep.
The choices were her uncle’s room, her aunt Ethel’s room, her grandmother’s room, and her grandpa’s room. She hated sleeping in her grandmother’s room because she had a great big ticking clock that kept her awake in there. She hated sleeping in her grandpa’s room because he had a giant picture of a half naked woman with glowing eyes that seemed to follow her around the room. She hated sleeping in her aunt Ethel’s room because both her aunt Ethel and Ethel’s daughter, Sherra, were handicapped and their bed always smelled like pee.
That usually only left her uncle’s room and he insisted that she sleep on the floor, which might not have been so bad if the floor was anything besides cement. There was no carpet on the floor to cushion a body. Anthony was a boy smaller than even Tisha was and she knew that he did not need an entire bed to himself. He was just trying to get back at her. He was unrelenting in his torture though.
“But there isn’t even an extra comforter for me to lay on,” she argued in his face.
“Why don’t you just use the extra sheets,” he said just as angrily.
Tisha went to the linen closet and was amazed by the number of sheets that her grandmother had there. A closet full of sheets, and no comforters besides those on the beds. It just didn’t make any sense to her. Tisha began the task of piling as many of the sheets on the floor as she could, but no matter how many she put down, the coldness of the floor just seeped right up through the sheets and right into her bones.
She learned that before she even attempted to lie on the flimsy pallet she had to get as tired as she could. If she could fall asleep before the cold seeped through the sheets she would be good. If not, then she would lay awake and be miserable all night. To add more discomfort, her uncle would usually turn on the air conditioner unit that hung from his window and then snuggle down into his comforter on his soft bed to sleep peacefully. Sometimes he even had his friends stay the night. Where did they sleep? In Anthony’s bed with him.
On one night Tisha woke suddenly in the freezing darkness. A roach had ventured out and run across her neck. After doing a mad little dance to make sure it was off she stood there shaking in the arctic cold. Her uncle slept on peacefully in his bed. She had to get out of the ice box of a room. She stepped into the dark hall way and instantly the temperature increased helping her to stop shaking, only now she was in the hallway… in the dark. The whole house was quit except a few creeks here and there. The light switch was all the way down at the end of the hall in the deep darkness.
Where would she go now? Where would she sleep? In Ethel’s room to be coated with pee? In her grandpa’s room alone with the creepy picture? Her grandmother’s room seemed the only salvation. She tipped to the door and knocked. Her grandmother kept her door locked. There was no answer. A combination of medication and beer often left her grandma nearly comatose at the end of the day.
She pounded harder. “Grandma,” she called with a few tears gathering in her eyes.
She didn’t hear any movement inside. Her grandmother would never open the door. Sometimes, when her grandmother locked herself in the room for too long, Tisha’s mother would use a butcher knife to pry the door open. Obtaining a knife would require going to the kitchen in the dark dark night though. Who knew what was down there. Jason could be waiting down there with a big old butcher’s knife. She wanted to go home but she thought again of playing with Choice.
If she could only make it through the night she would be able to play with Choice the next day. Before, when she had gotten this scared at her grandmother’s house, she would go home. Her mother would not be happy about coming to get her in the middle of the night, but she or Larry would come and then she could sleep in her own bed. Crying, she made her way to her Aunt Ethel’s room instead.
Her Aunt Ethel instantly slid over to make room for her and the scent of pee was overpowering as she pulled the covers back. Tisha did the best she could to ignore the smell as she hoped in and the next morning as the sun rose, she was in the shower immediately. She ran out to the front yard to find Choice already sitting in her own front yard coloring in a coloring book.
She ran out of her grandmother’s yard and into Choice’s yard and once again they sat there in the shade of the green tree, the queens of the neighborhood. They watched the other’s ride by on their bikes from their lawn chairs with their glasses of cool aide and looks of distain on their faces. Tisha paid the price and learned all she could about being cool from her new best friend.
No one would know the way she suffered at nights, and she made sure that it would stay that way.
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jcextra reviewed Version 1 -
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This was a very light hearted tale of Choice and Tisha. I really could identify with the setting especially at Gramdma’s house, when in the passage it states “Tisha, saw that her grandmother had plenty of sheets in the closet” or something to that effect. In the beginning it seemed everyone was putting Tisha up on a pedestal. She was kinda like a princess waiting for her prince, but as the story got toward the ending, I saw a need to find out what has happened when Tisha calls her mother to come pick her up in the middle of the night.
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oknapp reviewed Version 1 -
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change day times, which is actually one word but akward here, to “the days or time spent at my grandma’s. “Explore myself.” You might just say, explore my surroundings. Could you tell the reader what a power box is? You will need to stay in first or third person. Have either first person or third, which is Tish, tell the story, ok? It is confusing if you change person’s during the telling.
“one of the little green soldiers suddenly asked. She turned to the man with a look of distain.
“Are you afraid! . . . Ok, you need to let the reader know that this is Tish’s voice playing the little green soldier. You could say, Tish suddenly took on the voice of one of the litle green soldiers. If you don’t say this, readers will take it literally and think you are talking with an actual soldier. Readers are lazy and won’t want to try and figure this out, ok?
.She had a pretty face and big brown eyes and had she been small like Tisha “she would have undoubtedly been a dainty girl, but there was nothing dainty about this girl.” This sentence is confusing. Just say something like, she was the same age as Tisha, but not as dainty in stature. Descriptions are hard; sometimes i have trouble with them too.
“she replied hooking a thump over” You need to revise this sentence. Just say she pointed to the house on the left, or something similar. I don’t know about the word “cuss” or “cussed” i use that word all the time. Maybe it should be cursed. I don’t know on this one.
“replied with a little less flash than her previous statements”. What does this mean? You could say, she replied in an almost demure voice, or something simlar.
“She tried to ignore the smell as she hoped in and the next morning as the sun rose, she was in the shower immediately. She ran out to the front yard to find ” This sentence is confusing. Consider revising, You could say, Once she was fully awake, she quickly showered, changed clothes, then ran outside just in time to see Choice sitting on the front lawn coloring in her coloring.
book.
This story is interesting. You do a good job with descriptions except for a few things i found above. I enjoyed the friendship betwwen Tish and Choice. I like the fact that you describe one as tough and the other as more girlish. I also liked the descriptions of Grandma’s house and how the aunt peed the bed. i could actually see this and even smell it. Good job. Now keep writing and keep me posted Sandi
Sandrilene reviewed Version 1 -
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“No one would know the way she suffered at nights” – Having this at the end makes me think you want to emphasize this point. A little more concentration and development on this would heighten her suffering.
“Most weekends though, I spent over my grandmother’s house which was met with a mixture of joy and fright” – another instance of her trepidation towards her grandma’s house that isn’t fully developed. I would have choice in the background as the support system and focus on her Uncle. Add a scene or two about how mean he is to her at night.
“But general Letisha, what if they are too powerful for us,” one of the little green soldiers suddenly asked” – not sure what the purpose of the toy soldiers talking to her signifies. It seems to say that Tisha is all alone and has no people to play with, which in a child is a sad thing. So I would try developing her feelings towards the boys who won’t let her play. One’s family so that should hurt some, and then calling them “stupid boys” could be a defense mechanism.
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