Young Writers Society

The Second Edited Version.
The soft beautiful sunlight falling on the French windows of the house reflected my pallid face, the crumpled clothes, the dirty shoes I was wearing and the way I had pulled up my hair in a messy ponytail. I saw myself in the sunlight created mirror and wondered why had I agreed to come in the first place...
Going back to the last four months in my life to find the answer, I thought about the many times I cried because I couldn’t remember the next chore I had to complete, because my mother wasn’t with me to correct my every mistake, scold me when I forgot to put my clothes in the hamper, to wake me up in the morning for school, to give me a goodbye kiss before I caught the bus...I almost started to cry again but fought it, because I knew this was neither the time nor the place to show anyone how vulnerable and heartbroken I really was.
Today was my seventeenth birthday and I couldn’t even celebrate it with my mother, who was now in heaven. But now, I was standing in front of my father’s house who I didn’t even know existed until a month ago when my mother’s best friend had informed me about the lost'n'found father who apparently even didn’t know about my existence. 'Bravo!' I had thought, 'what a start to the always anticipated father-daughter relationship.'
I remembered my mommy’s last words; she had just said a name, had turned out to be my father's. When I had told Aunty Maya the name, she had become quiet for a long moment before taking out a long sigh and telling me the whole story about my father, Mathieu Sparks, and my mother Beth.
She told me about how they had met and how after a week with my mother, ‘the rotten man’, according to Aunty Maya had left town without even a backward glance and there was Mommy, pregnant with me.
I knew my mother never regretted having me because she drummed it in my head more often than necessary just so I would never get sad thinking about it, but my mother had never told me about my father. My mother had never..., she hadn't spoken his name even once.
I remember sitting with Auntie Maya in the drawing room waiting for my father to arrive. I had felt nervous and excited both at the same time. I had been waiting for a long time, trying to picture him, picture our first meeting, how would I react seeing him in flesh, how would he smile when he first saw me. Will it be a long and happy smile or an prejudiced smile. I had panicked a lot, afraid he wouldn't like me, take me as responsibility thrust upon him. But all my doubts had been the second he walked into the room with a bright, smile on his face and hugged me. I did not know how to respond so I had just replied him as I would to a stranger. " Good Afternoon, Mr. Sparks," he had stiffened at my reply but composed himself quickly and quickly smiled at me again.
He started speaking in a clear and confident voice, "how are you Sasha?"
"I'm fine Thank you." 'Now you are worrying about me, where were you for the last sixteen years, seven months and fifteen days', I added in my mind.
We talked for a good long hour. We talked about everything from his work life to my school life. He told me about his wife Anne and twin daughters' Jessie and Alex. I told him about life with Mom and Aunty Maya. I told about the places I lived at before Goa. At first, I was very stressed and panicked. I was biting my bottom lip till it was on the verge of bleeding, I was flexing my fingers in an attempt to remove all the tension and anxiety from my body. After sometime I relaxed and was able to listen to him.
We walked on the beach talking about Mom, father told me I looked just like my mother when she was nineteen, same long brown hair, green eyes and the same small nose, he told me I was very beautiful, just like my mother. It felt proud to be compared to her, but it also felt like crying but myself back.
He again hugged before leaving. He kissed me on the cheek and left with a sad 'Good bye'.
The'Goodbye' reminded me of the day my mother left me...Forever.
***
I was attending my math class, when I heard the announcement that I was called in the principal’s office immediately. I was confused at first and was trying to remember anything I did wrong to be called in the office in such a dramatic manner. Other students, are usually called into the office by the junior students who bring in slips for the teachers.
I hurried down the hallway regardless just so I wouldn’t get in more trouble for coming in late. I reached the door of the office and asked for permission when I was suddenly pushed in by Miss. Maria, the English teacher. I was already in sitting position in the smelly office when I glanced around to see Principal Friedan ‘her majesty’, as all the students called her, and Miss. Maria in front of me, with sad expressions on their faces which I couldn’t understand. Principal Friedan sighed and told me to stay calm and listen to them before saying or doing anything to which I agreed in a small voice.
I was now truly afraid from whatever they called me to say, because I had been in the office before and never had they started a conversation in this manner. I sat there in silence before Principal ma’am started speaking, “Sasha we called you here to inform you about your mother’s accident....” Anything else she spoke I didn’t seem to be hearing it. ‘About your mother’s accident’ were the only words that were echoing in my mind. My world came tumbling down, I couldn’t grasp the idea that my mother, my whole world, was in danger.
Principal ma’am gave me a shake and told me my mother was in a critical state and they could take me to the hospital if I wanted. I got frustrated, what did they mean if I wanted? of course I wanted to be with my mother right now! I almost shouted the words at them. I was escorted to the hospital by the P.T. I ran towards the reception of the hospital to get the information about where my mother had been admitted. While I was running towards my mother’s room, I could smell the faint and dried smell of blood coming from everywhere, as if telling me this was the last time I was ever going to be here, as if I was going to a different place, far from here, and I couldn’t come back even if I wanted to. I pushed away the disturbing thoughts and tried to run faster. ‘Where was the room, did it just go far and far as if it knew I was coming and it was running ahead of me,’ I thought to myself. I ran down another hallway and registered that there were red bulbs on the doors here and the big sign of I.C.U was hanging down from one wall.
Finally, I reached the door that was going to take me to my mother. I opened the door slowly, as if all my energy had been exhausted in running here. As I entered the small white room, I saw the iron bed with white bedclothes. On the bed, my mother was sleeping in the faded blue hospital gown, she looked worn out and exhausted lying there. On the far corner of the room, on a small wooden chair, Aunty Maya was sitting. As she saw me, she attempted a smile but did not succeed. She got up quietly from the chair, so as not to wake my mother, and came to the door and hugged me.
I sat near my mother for five hours before she opened her eyes; she smiled at me weakly before again closing them. It was 08.35 in the evening when my mother was again awake; I didn’t know it then, but it was also the last. I was just getting up to call the doctor but my mother called me in a frail voice, she said, “wait, sit with me for a while, will you?” it wasn’t a rhetorical question, it was an actual question. I couldn’t understand my mother. She asked me to wait, why? It was as if my mother knew she didn’t have much time being alive and wanted to spend it with me and not some old shaggy doctor who asked her questions about her spine and hip.
I answered quickly so as not to waste the remaining time in my answers, rather than hearing my mother’s sweet voice. “Yes. Mom I’m here.”
“Darling, you know about your father not being with us because he couldn’t at the time, sweetheart you know as well as I do that I haven’t got much time with－”
“You’ve got all the time in the world, Mom, doctor's said so...”I tried hard to convince her as well as myself. She could see the effort in my eyes, she replied with a quick weak smile. How could she lay there and tell me she was dying. Why couldn’t she be with me? Why did she have to go? Why?
“You know they are lying as well as I do. Just do something for me, will you?”
“Anything you say, Mom,” I replied quickly.
“Go ask Mamie about Mathieu Sparks,” and with that I closed my eyes, but she closed her eyes....Forever.
She said the last two words in a clear strong voice, as if my life depended on them. I couldn’t understand her; I couldn’t understand anything properly at that time. My mind was a mush. I just couldn’t grasp that my mother wouldn’t be with me when I woke up tomorrow, she wouldn’t eat the awful breakfast I make and still look good. I just couldn’t see my life going on without her in it, I just couldn’t...
***
The sound of Kelly Clarkson, singing somewhere, woke me up. Watching my phone vibrating on the side table, I remembered it was the alarm. I woke up from my bed and saw my messy room, still in the same state as yesterday. The dirty clothes were lying in the corner, on the chair in front on my study table. 'Mom is going to kill me,' I thought to myself. Some of my books were still lying on the side of the bed where I had kept them after studying last night.
Thinking about last night, I remembered the bizarre dream I had. I opened the door and walked out of the room, calling for Mom.
I went to the kitchen, but mom wasn’t here either. “Mom!” I shouted again.
“Mom, where are you? Why didn’t you wake me up? You know, I had this weird dream－”
Someone kept a hand on my shoulder and I froze. I turned around slowly, and saw Aunty Maya standing in front of me, “God! Mamie you scared me. Where is...?” I saw her black look an asked, “Hey, why are you wearing these black clothes, new trend? And you have black circles under your eyes, it is going to spoil you sexy look, if that’s what you are aiming for in this black...” I added playfully.
She didn’t say anything, just hugged me for a minute and then sighed. She looked at me straight in the eye and said, “Go get ready, we have to be there early.”
“Where are we going? And you know I had this really unusual dream last night and where is Mom, Mamie?” I asked Aunty Maya again.
“Mom is dead, Sash,” she said quietly.
“What!? What are you talking about, Mom came to pick me up yesterday from school. We played video games last night; you even won two games against her. You both even helped me for today’s test. You know you are taking the fooling a lot more seriously than you should....” I was babbling on before she stopped me with a slap on my face. I started crying, maybe this was what I was waiting for, to believe and accept what happened yesterday but I just, I just couldn’t...
“Sasha, hush. Baby, we are going to get through this like we got through with everything else before.”
“Why did she have to go?” I asked helplessly.
“We are going to be okay.”
“How?” I asked again.
How? It was a question she didn’t even have the answer to.
***
The Original Version.

The First Edited Version.

Hey there! I haven't reviewed in a really, really long time so please pardon me if I'm a bit rusty...
I'll quote the whole thing, if you don't mind, so it's easier to follow.

rooh27 wrote:New Beginning...
The soft beautiful sunlight falling on the French windows in front of the house reflected my pallid face,reflected the crumpled clothes, comma and the dirty shoes I was wearing and the way I had pulled up my hair in a messy ponytail. I saw myself in the mirror created because of the sunlightThis sentence sounds a bit weird.. I suggest rephrasing this, like 'I saw myself in the sunlight created mirror' for example and wondered why had I agreed to come in the first place...
Going back to the last four months in my life to find the answer, I thought about the many times I cried because I couldn’t remember the next chore I had to complete, because my mother wasn’t with me to correct my every mistake, scold me when I forgot to put my clothes in the hamper, to wake me up in the morning for school, to give me a goodbye kiss before I caught the bus...I almost started to cry again but fought it, comma because I knew this was neither the time nor the place to show any anyone how vulnerable and heartbroken I really was.
Today was my seventeenth birthday and I couldn’t even celebrate it with my mother, comma who was now in heaven. But now rather, comma I was standing in front of my father’s house who I didn’t even know existed until a month ago when my mother’s best friend had informed me about the lost'n'found father who apparently didn’t even know about my existence. Bravo! I had thought, comma what a start to the always anticipated father-daughter relationship.
I remembered my mommy’s last words; she had just said a name, comma which that had turned out to be my father's. When I had told Aunty Maya the name, comma she had become quiet for a long moment before taking out a long sigh and telling me the whole story about my father, comma Mathieu Sparks, comma and my mother Beth.
She told me about how they had met and how after a week with my mother, comma ‘the rotten man’, comma according to Aunty Maya had left town without even a backward glance and there was Mommy, comma pregnant with me. 'Mommy' should be written with a capital letter since it's a name
I knew my mother never regretted having me because she drummed it in my head more often than necessary just so I would never get sad thinking about it, comma but my mother had never told me about my father nor had she told me his name. You cannot use 'nor' if it's not with 'neither'.. Therefor, I suggest you rephrase this as well, 'My mother had never... comma, she hadn't spoken his name even once'
***
I was attending my math class, comma when I heard the announcement that I was called in the principal’s office immediately. I was confused at first and was trying to remember anything I did wrong to be called in the office in such a dramatic manner. Other students, are usually called into the office are by the junior students who bring in slips for the teachers.
I hurried down the hallway regardless just so I wouldn’t get in more trouble for coming in late. I reached the door of the office and asked for permission when I was suddenly pushed in by Miss. Maria, the English teacher. I was already in sitting position in the smelly office when I glanced around to see Principal Friedan ‘her majesty’, comma as all the students called her, comma and Miss. Maria in front of me, comma with sad expressions on their faces which I couldn’t understand. Principal Friedan sighed and told me to stay calm and listen to them before saying or doing anything to which I agreed in a small voice.
I was now truly afraid from whatever they called me to say, comma because I had been in the office before and never had they started a conversation in this manner.
I sat there in silence before Principal ma’am started speaking, “Sasha we called you here to inform you about your mother’s accident....” Anything else she spoke I didn’t seem to be hearing it. ‘About your mother’s accident’ were the only words that were echoing in my mind. My world cametumbling down, I couldn’t grasp the idea that my mother, my whole world, comma was in danger.
Principal ma’am gave me a shake and told me my mother was in a critical state and they could take me to the hospital if I wanted. I got frustrated, what did they mean if I wanted? of course I wanted to be with my mother right now! I almost shouted the words at them. I was escorted to the hospital by the P.T. I ran towards the reception of the hospital to get the information about where my mother had been admitted. While I was running towards my mother’s room, I could smell the faint and dried smell of blood coming from everywhere, comma as if telling my this was the last time I was ever going to be here, as if I was going to a different place, comma far from here, comma and I couldn’t come back even if I wanted to. I pushed away the disturbing thoughts and tried to run faster. ‘Where was the room, did it just go far and far as if it knew I was coming and it was running ahead of me,’ I thought to myself. I ran down another hallway and registered that there were red bulbs on the doors here and the big sign of I.C.U was hanging down from one wall.
Finally, comma I reached the door that was going to take me to my mother. I opened the door slowly, comma as if all my energy had been exhausted in running here. As I entered the small white room, comma I saw the iron bed with white bedclothes. On the bed, comma my mother was sleeping in the faded blue hospital gown, she looked worn out and exhausted lying there. On the far corner of the room, comma on a small wooden chair, Aunty Maya was sitting. As she saw me, she attempted a smile at me but did not succeed. She got up quietly from the chair, comma so as not to wake my mother, comma and came to the door and hugged me. No need to repeat 'at me'
I sat near my mother for five hours before she opened her eyes; she smiled at me weakly before again closing them. It was 08.35 in the evening when my mother was again awake; I didn’t know it then, comma but it was also the last. I was just getting up to call the doctor but my mother called me in a frail voice, she said, “wait, sit with me for a while, will you?” it wasn’t a rhetorical question, it was an actual question. I couldn’t understand my mother. She asked me to wait, why? It was as if my mother knew she didn’t have much time being alive and wanted to spend it with me and not some old shaggy doctor who asked her questions about her spine and hip.
I answered quickly so as not to waste the remaining time in my answers, comma rather than hearing my mother’s sweet voice.

“Yes. Mom I’m here.”

“Darling, you know about your father not being with us because he couldn’t at the time, sweetheart you know as well as I do that I haven’t got much time with－”

“You’ve got all the time in the world , comma Mum, doctor's said so...”I tried hard to convince her as well as myself. She could see the effort in my eyes, she replied with a quick weak smile. How could she lay there and tell me she was dying. Why couldn’t she be with me? Why did she have to go? Why?

“You know they are lying as well as I do. Just do something for me, will you?”

“Anything you say, comma Mum,” I replied quickly.

“Go ask Mamie about Mathieu Sparks,” and with that I closed my eyes, but she closed her eyes....Forever.
She said the last two words in a clear strong voice, as if my life depended on them. I couldn’t understand her; I couldn’t understand anything properly at that time. My mind was a mush. I just couldn’t grasp that my mother wouldn’t be with me when I woke up tomorrow, she wouldn’t eat the awful breakfast I made and still look perfectly at ease Do you mean 'while still looking at ease'?. I just couldn’t see my life going on without her in it, I just couldn’t...
***
The sound of Kelly Clarkson, comma singing somewhere, comma woke me up. Watching my phone vibrating on the side table, comma I remembered it was the alarm. I woke up from my bed and saw my messy room, comma still in the same state as yesterday. The dirty clothes were lying in the corner, on the chair in front on my study table. “Mom is going to kill me,” I thought to myself. Some of my books were still lying on the side of the bed where I had kept them after studying last night.
From the thought Thinking about last night, comma I remembered the bizarre dream I had. I opened the door and walked out of the room, comma calling for Mom. Switching name's isn't the best, you should probably stay with either 'mum' or 'mom' but not both at the same time

I went to the kitchen, comma but mom wasn’t here either. “Mum!” I shouted again.

“Mom, where are you? Why didn’t you wake me up? You know, comma I had this weird dream－”

Someone kept a hand on my shoulder and I froze. I turned around slowly,comma and saw Aunty Maya standing in front of me, “God! Mamie you scared me. Where is...?” I saw her black look an asked, “Hey, why are you wearing these black clothes, new trend? And you have black circles under your eyes, it's going to spoil you sexy look, if that’s what you are aiming for in this black...” I added playfully. 'It's' because it's not possessive, it's 'it is'

She didn’t say anything, just hugged me for a minute and then sighed. She looked at me straight in the eye and said, “Go get ready, we have to be there early.”

“Where are we going? And you know I had this really unusual dream last night and where is Mom, Mamie?” I asked Aunty Maya again.

“Mom is dead, comma Sash, comma” She said quietly.

“What!? What are you talking about, Mom came to pick me up yesterday from school. We played video games last night; you even won two games against her. You both even helped me for today’s test. You know you are taking the fooling a lot more seriously than you should....” I was babbling on before she stopped me with a slap on my face. I started crying, maybe this was what I was waiting for, to believe and accept what happened yesterday but I just, I just couldn’t...

“Sasha, hush. Baby, comma we are going to get through this like we got through with everything else before.”

“Why did she have to go?” I asked helplessly.

“We are going to be okay.”

“How?” I asked again.

How? It was a question she didn’t even have the answer to.
～～～

Alright, this sounds like a great beginning! The only thing I would like to point out is your punctuation... As you've seen, I've added quite a few commas in there. Don't be afraid to use them, they'll make a nice flow in your work. You've got some nice long sentences in there, but there's a bit of choppiness to it.
Other than that, keep up the good work! I like the feel of this, it's nice. I'm curious about the story line behind it!
Keep on writing!

-Truth-

Hi there, Lavvi in to review as requested.

So there's a few things I'd like to discuss before I get on to some of the nitpicks.

A) Show, don't tell. During the time that I was reading your little story, and after, I picked up the fact that you rather prefer to tell and not show. Throughout your time on YWS, many people will tell you to do the exact opposite (like I am!) if needed. There is no show and because you're all telling, I can't get attached emotionally in any way to your piece, even in the slightest bit. It's very hard for me to picture anything in my head because you aren't describing anything. This can become extremely frustrating for the reader. Instead of telling us what happened, show us. So when Sasha recounts that she recently found out about an unknown father, perhaps write a paragraph or two describing that meeting. How did Sasha feel? Was she scared, hesitant or excitable? How did her father, Mathieu, react to the meeting? That sort of thing. Here I took a few lines of your story and then rewrote them in a "showy" kind of way:

Here's your line:

When I had told Aunty Maya the name she had become quiet for a long moment before taking out a long sigh and telling me the whole story about my father Mathieu Sparks and my mother Beth.

and I rewrote it like this:

I sat, in a plush, flowery armchair, eager but just as reluctant to ask my Aunt Maya the question. Her face showed to be interested in why I'd come. "Aunt Maya, who is Mathieu Sparks?" There was silence in which I bit my lip, staring down at the floor, every once in awhile peeking hesitantly up at my aunt. She sat stiff in her own chair before she signed.

Like, don't use that very paragraph in your piece as it's my own creation and you have a better understanding of how you want to manipulate your characters. But I hope you get the idea of what I'm talking about

B) Character Development. Okay, so I only know extremely vague points about Sasha, your MC (main character). That a) her mother is dead, b) she has just met her father and c)she has an aunt named Maya. Um. We definitely need more information about her. But don't dedicate a whole paragraph solely to describing your MC. Slowly reveal her secrets to your audience by subtly adding things in, like, for example (this may not be true, I recognize that), if her mother liked reading you could say Sasha took after her mum because she liked reading. That's a very simple example of what I mean, but it (I hope) gets the point across.

C) Ease in. So, around the middle of your story, you put in a break and suddenly jump from this background information into a setting of a school. This doesn't work. You need to ease into everything. Breaks don't necessarily mean that if Sasha was in Mexico, the next moment she could be in Russia. It just doesn't really work that way. Develop something that leads up the thing you're going to write about following the inserted break. The reason for this is so the reader doesn't get a sort of book culture shock. It's kind of dazing when an author jumps from place to place so suddenly.



So, I'm not going to quote a bunch of things into here. My nitpicks this time will involve grammar and punctuation tips

So, you tend to have many moments where you near a run-on sentence catastrophe. This is because you are missing a bunch of commas in a bunch of different, but very crucial, places in your writing. You were lucky Truth was willing to point the majority of these out to you, but in the future you can't always depend on others to find everything for you. Usually, if you have trouble locating bad grammar/punctuation hot spots, it helps to read everything aloud. That way you find everything by ear. I do it often and it helps me loads.

Another thing is that I want to say that I strongly disagree with Truth about the "good, long sentences" thing. Longer doesn't always necessarily mean better. I usually recommend fellow writers to incorporate all different types of sentence sizes to get some variation. It also makes the piece of writing that much more interesting to read.

One last thing. Your starting sentence is too much information. A starting sentence is one of the most crucial parts of a story because it's your chance to grab hold of the reader's attention. They say you have one chance to trap the audience: with the beginning sentence, perhaps the first paragraph if you're lucky. If you're super duper lucky, maybe the first two paragraphs. But you shouldn't take chances. A first line should definitely not be flooded with seemingly useless adjectives and informations. Get to the point.

So, overall, it's an okay start. There are a lot of things you need to work on and some things you should tweak, but it's only the beginning of YWS career. So don't get discouraged. We're here to help, right? You have a nice concept going on, but now it's just about trying to execute that idea appropriately.

If you have any questions, drop me a line on my Wall or you can PM me.

Yours,
Lavender