Short Story / The weirdest normal teen you will ever know.
My name is Annabelle. I’m only a Middle Schooler trying to keep sane. Many things happened in my life along with many others but crying them out to my friends for comfort and feeling better just because they agreed with me and pat me on the back isn’t comfort to me at all. I personally think it does nothing at all. What I’ve been taught in my life time is to keep it to yourself and let it out later or just take a deep breath and move on in life. So far it has been working for me. I don’t know if I can call myself the average teen. I have ambitions of a person that just got out of highschool but then I can act foolish like a 10 year old.
This year might be on of the hardest year I had to deal with so far. I was 8th grade president and I was honored with the position but things came up which I will mention later on. I missed class half of the time but what can I say I’m not a morning person, I didn’t really care for the teacher and I didn’t have anyone that I truly like there. So when I was brought up to the principal officer to discuss my attendance I found it easier to go along with their story made up in their heads and attempting to make me realize a point to this convosation. When the principal didn’t call me by my own name I knew if she couldn’t remember who she was talking to why should I even try and speak my mind to someone I didn’t care for in the first place. They later striped me from my post of student body president. Now looking back I will surely miss that I can’t attend the camp where all the kids from across the state meets up. That camp was the only good things about that summer. It wasn’t required but I attended for myself and the school. I put myself in a situation where I didn’t know anyone and met two bestfriends.
So my life wasn’t the best one to be in but I believed as long as I had my other best friends at school I could make it through the year. But she later moved to a different school and she was the only one I could truly talked to. Now I felt alone and bad.
I got a cat so I could feel like I could have some control of my life. Something I could be responsible. I bought everything it needed with my own money and kept it for a while. Until my mom gave it away. I could see her point because I didn’t ask her if I could have it and also because we have two dogs. But it still hurt to have something that you were starting to love and to feel that you were responsible for it.
Then my mom got a phone call from my uncle in Mexico that my grandpa fell down a flight of stairs and was uncounious. They sent him to the hospital where he spend a few weeks there. My family in Mexico weren’t the riches people in the world so my mom paid most of the medical bills because my aunts over here didn’t pitch in. On December 22,2007 my grandpa was pronouced dead around 2 a.m. in the morning. My mom took it fairly well but I felt guilty because I never really got to know him to actually have a bounding relationship.
Nothing much happened during winter break. Once school started again I was excited but when I stepped into classroom I remembered there was nothing to be excited about. Nothing magically changed, I was still the as people see me a rude-quiet-smart but yet dumb-confused-lonely-teacher pet-spoiled Mexican that no one will understand.
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Reviews
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
I hate stories that begin with “My name is…” it is a mutrity issure for some reason I think. I know that when I was young I began many a story just like that. But I think that there are much better ways to introduce characters. Show me that her name is Annabelle through conversation. Or by telling the story yourself rather than put the main character as the narrator.
You could begin… Annabelle pulled her fingers through her __ hair. Then we know her name. Know that it is a girl and we have an image of her… know her hair color and everything!
You need a lot of work with grammer, but that comes with writing more over time.
By saying that things happened in her life and other things happened you are not being very descriptive. You are turning readers away and it is, well, boring.
What was the point of this story?
Focus.
I don’t think that you wanted bounding with your grandfather so much as bonding, though perhaps bounding through a feild with a grandfather would be bonding…
Why mention something if you plan to mention something later?
Focus.
You keep saying that your life was not the best, but you don’t say why. That is annoying to me the reader.
- add/view comments (0)
Showing 1 - 1 of 1
Review item
Add to faves
GENERAL
REVIEW QUEUE
Ratings & Rankings
