Young Writers Society

"Will you jump out and get the mail, Maycee?"
"Sure, mom."
Maycee Morgan clambers down from her perch in the passenger's seat of her mother's dusty red Chevrolet pickup truck, into the unforgiving Texas heat, on September third at 4:37 P.M. Country music floats out to her from the truck door, which Maycee had left standing open. She hums along to the rhythm as she approaches the mailbox. She is a mere four feet away from the busy Highway B-67, leading from Daley, Texas to scattered towns across the Midwest, nowhere in particular. A car whizzes past, sending her short, sun-bleached blond hair shooting out behind her. Maycee's mom cranks up the music, which Maycee can now identify as Tim McGraw. She sings along under her breath. She reaches the mailbox, only a yard away from the highway. The stooped, brown one with "Morgan" stenciled on the side. She flips open the lid, extracts three or four letters and a catalog. But she frowns as she notices that one magazine is stuck, the binding caught in the inverted rim of the mailbox. She tugs at it, but it still won't budge. A beat-up old Honda booms past, obnoxious hip-hop music bursting from the speakers, he bass turned up so loud that the lyrics have become indecipherable. Maycee tugs at the magazine some more, a worthless magazine. One that her mom will probably never bother picking up and reading. One from some company that some stupid telemarketer gave our phone number to.

But Maycee still pulls at the stuck magazine, feeling content. Tim McGraw is still playing, gently. Sweetly. She sings along to herself as she pulls harder at the wedged magazine. Then, although Maycee doesn't see it, a thundering eighteen-wheeler with the faded Coca-Cola logo painted on the side that was three lanes away from the mailbox suddenly makes a u-turn, the driver realizing that the Quick-Mart was in Shepherd, one of the little Midwest towns. The song ends, and Maycee turns to face her mom's truck. She decides to abandon the still-stuck magazine in the mailbox, and turns to head back up to the truck. But she trips over a jagged chalk-white rock jutting out of the ground, and falls. Something warm and gooey oozes down her leg. She cries out, but the truck has already swerved off the highway.

A scream penetrates the palpable humidity on September third, at 4:40 P.M., on Highway B-67, leading from Daley, Texas to nowhere in particular, as the life of Maycee Morgan, and innocent 13-year-old girl's life is ended.
Too soon.



"Ooh, I love these ones!"
"Whitney, settle down," I giggle as my best friend holds up the third pair of shoes today that she claims are "the ones".
"But these are... look at them! Just look at them!"
"Yeah, they're pretty cute," I admit.
"Eh, I changed my mind. How about..." She scans the shoe section. "Those!" Whitney squeals as she scurries to the other side of the store. She picks up a pair of bright red flats. "Those?" I parrot back at her. Whitney nods eagerly.
"Okay, if you're sure." I say, making my disgust obvious.
Whitney holds the shoes up, admiring them. "'Kay, I'm going to go check out," Whitney states, now hugging the flats close.
"I'm going to look around a bit."
"Sure. I'll find you when I've checked out," Whitney says, already headed to the kiosk.

I look around Lilly Spring Mall's shoe department. Heels, sandals, flats, boots, sneakers--
That's when I notice her.
Huge ink-blue eyes, bright and twinkling, short black hair cut in a bob. An anime girl. Something is off about her, though. She scans the shoe racks like I do, absently, like she is waiting for someone. I watch her for a few minutes, but still no one comes to her and says, "Ready to go?" like Whitney usually does. Not for this girl. The anime girl. Then, the strangest thing happens. My legs walk in her direction. My mouth opens. Someone says in my voice, "Hi." The girl looks up, clearly surprised. I clear my throat, try again. "Hi. I'm Maycee." I smile politely. A grin plays across the girl's face. "Oh, um... cool. Pretty name." She says.
"Oh, yeah, thanks." I respond courteously.
"Mine's Kadi," the girl says, "nice to meet you."
Kadi looks at me expectantly. "So, what you got there?" I ask, gesturing at the closed shoebox tucked under her arm.
"Er, uh, shoes. Shoes."
"Hmm. What's your favorite brand?"
"Converse." Kadi actually smiles this time, big and wide. It lights up her whole face, displaying perfect white teeth.
Kadi and I sit at a bench near the purse department, across the walkway from the kiosk where Whitney is still in line. We talk about shoes (her black-and-white striped Converse), the weather (insufferably hot and humid), and even politics (groan) before Whitney shows up.

"Hey, Maycee! I couldn't find you anywhere! And there were like, fifty people in line! So, are you ready to--" I wince, realizing that Whitney has just realized Kadi is sitting beside me. She laughs politely. "Um, who's that?" Whitney asks. I can tell that she is trying to be casual and nice, but she comes across as rude and stiff.
"Er, I'm Kadi," Kadi says sweetly, "Maycee and I just met."
I nod and smile.
"Oh. Okay... Well, Maycee and I need to go now," Whitney announces, shuffling nervously from foot to foot.
"Hold on a sec, Whit. Kadi's really nice," I say, still smiling.
"No thanks, Maycee. I really have to get home." Whitney is the one smiling nervously now. It's obvious to see that she thinks that some weirdo started talking to me and she needs to come save me.
"Give it a rest, Whitney," I finally blurt in annoyance. "Kadi is really nice and we're having a good time. And you and I both know that the mall just opened and we planned to stay here for two hours."
Whitney pulls back like I've just slapped her. She's always been a little melodramatic. Still, I soften.
"Okay, Whit, I'll meet you at the food court in five minutes," I say finally with a sigh.
"'Kay. Pizza?" Whitney asks, perking up.
"Sure."
"'Kay, see you in five." Whitney bounces away to the escalators.

I turn back to Kadi. "Sorry about that."
"Oh, no, it's okay," Kadi responds, smiling.
"Hey, since I have to be up there in five minutes, um, do you want to like... exchange phone numbers, or something?"
"Yeah, sure." Kadi smiles again, that big shining smile.
After she has my phone number and I have hers, we part, promising to call soon.

"Hey, Whit." I say when I find her table.
"Oh, hi, Maycee. So, what was up with the weird girl?" Whitney replies, setting two paper plates heaped with pizza down on the plastic table in the center of the food court.
"She wasn't weird." I say, suddenly defensive.
"Yes she was. She looked like she stepped out of a Manga comic."
"She can't help that."
"Yeah, well, Kate--"
"Kadi," I correct her.
Whitney sighs. "Kadi. Okay, well, Kadi shouldn't go around talking to strangers."
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. "Uh, actually Whit, I talked to her."
"You mean, my best friend, Maycee Morgan, the most shy and quiet girl I know, walked up to a random stranger and just started chatting it up?" Whitney asks in disbelief.
I nod and smile, stuffing my face with Piccola Italia pizza.

Shopping bags clutched in our hands, we begin walking back to Whitney's house. It's a good thing that everything is so close together in our tiny town of Carnation, Texas. It's halfway between Daley, a relatively large town for our area, and Lilly Springs, a teeny Midwest town. It's hot all year round, except a few weeks in the middle of winter, a stereotypical Texas town. I look over at Whitney, her long auburn hair brushing over her back, picked up by the wind. She's always been better than me; prettier, more athletic, taller. She's a green-eyed brunette, I'm a hazel-eyed blonde. We're completely different, and that's what brings us together. We push each other to try new things, which we most of the time end up liking. She's yin, I'm yang, but together, we're perfect harmony. We even each other out.
"Look at these shoes! Look at them!" Whitney squeals, peeking through the shoebox lid and leaning over so I can see too.
"They're... uh, red?" I say.
Whitney giggles. "Good job figuring that out!" She says, her tone sarcastic.
"Really very extremely red?" I offer.
"Hmm, better." Whitney decides.

When I finally get home after Whitney's mom drops me off, I am wiped. I brush my teeth and go straight to bed, but can't go to sleep. Despite my exhausted limbs, sleep just won't come. I think of Kadi and how she acted like she was hiding something. I pluck my cell phone from my pocket and select 'Contacts', and scroll down to Kadi's number. Look at it. It seems so normal. I turn off the phone and roll over. I'm just being paranoid.

Hey guys! Thanks for reading! To be honest, I'm not completely sure where this is going to go. I'm going to continue it, obviously, but it'll probably be on hold for a while as I'm currently working on my novel, Lifewish. I'm not sure what to do with the text (before the ***) at the beginning. I might keep it there, might move it, but I definitely want it somewhere in here. Critiques wanted! I know it isn't very good. I just jotted down ideas as they came to me, so i'm not sure at all what to do with this. HELP! Thanks! Yours, Pen

Hiya, penprincess! Here to review

I think the first thing that I noticed was your first paragraph. It's too big! Remember, to try and start a new sentance when something new happens, it's a new time, you know. It's better to have three smaller paragraphs then one big one, though I think this one should be split into at least two please I also think the next paragraph is a tad long. I mean, this is a main scene, and I've noticed all of your sentances are quite long. If you want a really effective action scene, use. short. sentences!

Secondly, I quite like your idea of having these two stories, but I am slightly confused. I mean, I know they're the same person but what's the time difference. I'm not saying this is a bad thing, it's actually quite good. It's got the reader asking questions like there's no tomorrow. I like this idea of a story starting right at the end, then to later on find out the whole back story, because recently I've been watching loads of plays like that. Anyways, I won't bore you with my life

Going back to how it doesn't start at the beginning, because the first part was so action-packed, I think you need to make the next part just as action packed to leave a cliff-hanger. But you have left some questions, what made Maycee talk to Kady? If I were you, I'd give a really good reason, because, generally, people don't walk up to lonely strangers. I mean, first we need to establish how old these girls are. Because, if they are teens, then they should really know better because it's actually quite dangerous. I feel like I'm giving a lecture now... But you see what I mean, right?

Now, time to talk about character. I may accidently repeat some stuff that I've already before, but you'll get my gyst. The good thing about your characters is that each one sounds different and they all have their own voice. However, I think these characters aren't doing what their personalities would be doing, and they're sort of being moved around to the conveniance of the author. I'm also not sure about Whitney and Maycee's relationship, because they're supposed to be best friends, but right now it doesn't seem like it. So, try and stabalise there fienship in the next part. Also, I'd like to find out more about the characters, like their strangths and weanknesses and how it could affect them.

You've made this piece present tense and I really commend you for that. because youo've done quite a good job of it, and I've never been able to write in the present tense. So, well done! I think for this chapter/part or whatever it's called , you could add in some more interior monologue. I know you have that bit with how Whitney is so perfect, but that sort of slows down the story because it's quite hard to have one block of interior monologue. Spread it out a bit! I'd also really like to know what exactly is going on through Maycee's head when she decides to talk to Kady. And just remember, short senteces for action, long sentences for introspective moments.

I'd like to finish off with showing vs telling. Yes, you've probably heard it all before, but I think it's one of the most important things sometimes in a story.

Whitney pulls back like I've just slapped her. She's always been a little melodramatic. Still, I soften.

This is one example, we can find out Whitney is a bit melodramatic through her dialogue and actions. I don't think you've actually done too bad on the whole 'show don't tell' thing. But, just to remind you, you can
-Use dialogue
-Use sensory language (hear, touch smell ect.)
-Be descriptive
-Be specific, not vague.

Okay, I hope this review helped. Keep writing and PM me with any questions!
-ArcticMonkey x

Thanks, Arctic! I'll start editing soon! xX
Pen

Alright I'm just going to mention that I do not deal with grammar/spelling in any way because by fixing it for you, you won't learn how to deal with it on your own. What I propose is that you go and find a forum that deals with grammar directly. Your grammar wasn't overly bad, maybe just some overuse of commars (which could easily be replaced by semi-colons) but otherwise it was good.

Now onto the rest of the review. Oh and by the way, I'm Apple and I'm here to review!

You have one problem that I found and this is so common on this site and with many full fledged writers that you don't have to be embarrased about it. I do the same thing to, time and practice is the only thing that can strip you of this problem.

Show, do not tell.

Yes I've said it a billion times and I will keep on saying it. Penprincess, you have a lot of this in your story but do not worry, it happens to everyone. I cannot believe that tripe that is my own writing sometimes. If you take a look at my previous work you could possibly say a chicken used it as food and made it what it is. That chicken being me. None-the-less we're not talking about me, we're talking about your writing.

Number of times I went over this peice and I can tell you there is a lot of Maycee did this and Maycee did that. You're just dropping it on the reader like a weight and then walking away like no man's business. Of course I grab an elephant and drop it on someone's lap like no man's business but you shouldn't be like me. You should be ten times better. So what I'm going to suggest is this.

GO OVER YOUR WORK!

Those four golden words are life savers', I tell you that. Read it. See it. Breathe it. Smell it. I don't care if you do it outside, I don't care if your do it in the park and I don't care if you read it on the top of hay shed, you're going to have to do it to become one with this story. Yes, I am a very spiritual apple. Don't mess with karma, bro, it's trouble!

Now, back to the story at hand. I want you to add thoughts! Add your character's beliefs, hates and likes, fears and cravings. You've got to give dimension to your character because right now she is a peice of cardboard. I want to hear what she has to say about country music. I want her to say what she feels about her mother. Personally, I want to see inside of Maycee's sun-bleached blonde head and see what she is thinking right down to the last nuke and cranny of her brain. Creepy? You bet your lunch it is! She hasn't got a voice and the best way to show and not tell and have readers connecting with a character is to do that.

I'll give you a quick example:

Country music floats out to her from the truck door, which Maycee had left standing open. She hums along to the rhythm as she approaches the mailbox.

NB. A door cannot be left standing because it doesn't have any feet. I just thought I'd point that out to you.

Alright, so here I go. This is what I think you should do to get your character some singing voice. PS. I'm going to write in past tense because I'm not comfortable with present.

Country music floated out to her from the open truck door. The tune was already meeting an upbeat scale that Maycee absolutely adored. She loved the sound of the banjo's pluckings strings and the harmonica's rich harmonies. Humming as the singer began to yoddle, she staggered towards the mailbox clicking her fingers.

Again, I went a little to indepth but you get the picture. That is the kind of thing you want and just to mention I don't know jack about country music so sorry if I got a few things wrong.

All in all this story was interesting. You need to work on captivating your audience a little more though. Instead of having long, stretched out sentences make some short and snappy. It makes the reader feel a little more on edge. For me anyway. Maycee has potential and as does this story. If you do a little tweaking this can really shine like the fourth of July. You're a very good writer and you're so young as well so you have a lot of years to practice and trust me you don't have to do much because you're already very talented.

Keep up the good work. I hope this review helped and was what you're looking for. Sorry about the fact that I don't do grammar and stuff but as I mentioned before it won't teach you anything and I'm not that good at it myself.

Apple.

Hey Pen, thanks for the review request.
Sorry it's taken me so long but I've been so busy with life lately. It's just be so...hectic with my exams and all. But thats not really relevant to this review so I'll shut up now. Personal stuff can wait 'til wall comments.

So a couple of things I want you to remember as I review;

- If I say something you disagree with-Tell me. I'll either admit I'm wrong or support my earlier point.
- I will try not to be harsh but if I do say something that you think is offensive, remember I'm trying to help you improve. If you're still not happy comment on my wall and I'll apologise. Hopefully it won't come to that.
- If I'm not helpful, I want you to tell me. I need to upgrade my reviewing standards then!

Ok enough of all that. I'll get onto the reviewingness of all of this.
So normally I'll start with grammar and move onto plot and all that jazz. Ok with you? I might split it into two reviews; one main and one follow up.

So, as I was saying --->

penprincess wrote:"Will you jump out and get the mail, Maycee?"
"Sure, mom."
Maycee Morgan clambers down from her perch in the passenger's seat of her mother's dusty red Chevrolet pickup truck, into the unforgiving Texas heat, on September third at 4:37 P.M. Country music floats out to her from the truck door, which Maycee had left standing open. She hums along to the rhythm as she approaches the mailbox. She is a mere four feet away from the busy Highway B-67, leading from Daley, Texas to scattered towns across the Midwest, nowhere in particular. A car whizzes past, sending her short, sun-bleached blond hair shooting out behind her. Maycee's mom cranks up the music, which MayceeI'm feeling too much Maycee here. We've got Maycee's mom and Maycee herself. Either give Maycee's mom a name or try and cut down on the use of this name. It's getting repetitive. can now identify as Tim McGraw. She sings along under her breath. She reaches the mailbox, only a yard away from the highway. The stooped, brown one with "Morgan" stenciled on the side. She flips open the lid, extracts three or four letters and a catalog.Ok, this is moving too slow for me. I'm kind of getting this; She did this, then she did, she fillip open the mail, then she found a catalog. Do you know what I mean? Cut out some of this as you're just really taking up more of the readers time for nothing really. You could get across the same information in less lines. But she frowns as she notices that one magazine is stuck, the binding caught in the inverted rim of the mailbox. She tugs at it, but it still won't budge. A beat-up old Honda booms past, obnoxious hip-hop music bursting from the speakers, heI'm guessing this should be the? bass turned up so loud that the lyrics have become indecipherable. Maycee tugs at the magazine some more, a worthless magazine.The repeat of magazine here is irritating. Change it maybe to... Maycee tugs at the magazine some more, it was worthless and not really worth the effort. One that her mom will probably never bother picking up and readingI think this would sound and fit better in general; One that her mom will probably never bother to pick up and read anyway. One from some company that some stupid telemarketer gave our phone number to.Ok, this piece of information is irrelevant and you are going about the magazine so much so that I've lost interest completely. You started this off so well and I was so involved with the way you wrote and the talent you portrayed. You're losing me here though, I'm getting tired of all this pointless description. Sorry.

But Maycee still pulls at the stuck magazine, feeling content. Tim McGraw is still playing, gently. Sweetly. She sings along to herself as she pulls harder at the wedged magazine.Again, you are repeating yourself. Get to the part either where she has opened it already or whether she drops it to the floor in distaste. You have spent far to long on the same thing, and have used up two valuable paragraphs that I feel haven't got you anywhere. Then, although Maycee doesn't see it, a thundering eighteen-wheeler with the faded Coca-Cola logo painted on the side that was three lanes away from the mailbox suddenly makes a u-turn, the driver realizing that the Quick-Mart was in Shepherd, one of the little Midwest towns. The song ends, and Maycee turns to face her mom's truck. She decides to abandon the still-stuck magazine in the mailbox, and turns to head back up to the truck.Finally. But do you see what I mean? But she trips over a jagged chalk-white rock jutting out of the ground,no need for the comma here. and falls. Something warm and gooey oozes down her leg. She cries out, but the truck has already swerved off the highway.

A scream penetrates the palpable humidity on September third, at 4:40 P.M., on Highway B-67, leading from Daley, Texas to nowhere in particular, as the life of Maycee Morgan, andthis should be [i]an innocent 13-year-old girl'sThere should be a comma here. life is ended.
Too soon.

***

"Ooh, I love these ones!"
"Whitney, settle down," I giggle as my best friend holds up the third pair of shoes today that she claims are "the ones".
"But these are... look at them! Just look at them!"
"Yeah, they're pretty cute," I admit.
"Eh, I changed my mind. How about..." She scans the shoe section. "Those!" Whitney squeals as she scurries to the other side of the store. She picks up a pair of bright red flats. "Those?" I parrot back at her. Whitney nods eagerly.
"Okay, if you're sure." I say, making my disgust obvious.
Whitney holds the shoes up, admiring them. "'Kay, I'm going to go check out," Whitney states, now hugging the flats close.
"I'm going to look around a bit."
"Sure. I'll find you when I've checked outAs you've already used 'check out' I suggest you change this to maybe... Sure. I'll find you when I've bought this baby's. Or something.," Whitney says, already headed to the kiosk.

I look around Lilly Spring Mall's shoe department. Heels, sandals, flats, boots, sneakers--
That's when I notice her.
Huge ink-blue eyes, bright and twinkling, short black hair cut in a bob. An anime girl. Something is off about her, though. She scans the shoe racks like I do, absently, like she is waiting for someone. I watch her for a few minutes, but still no one comes to her and says, "Ready to go?" like Whitney usually does. Not for this girl. The anime girl. Then, the strangest thing happens. My legs walk in her direction. My mouth opens. Someone says in my voice, "Hi." The girl looks up, clearly surprised. I clear my throat, try again. "Hi. I'm Maycee." I smile politely. A grin plays across the girl's face. "Oh, um... cool. Pretty name." She says.
"Oh, yeah, thanks." I respondReply will fit better here before your lovely choice of word courteously. courteously.
"Mine's Kadi," the girl says, "nice to meet you."
Kadi looks at me expectantly. "So, what you got there?" I ask, gesturing at the closed shoebox tucked under her arm. I'm not really sure about this, but doesn't that sound nosy and ignorant of your charachter? It's a bit off key and out of the blue apart from being dead rude! Maybe make Kadi's response more... surprised by the question?
"Er, uh, shoes. Shoes."
"Hmm. What's your favorite brand?"
"Converse." Kadi actually smiles this time, big and wide. It lights up her whole face, displaying perfect white teeth.
Kadi and I sit at a bench near the purse department, across the walkway from the kiosk where Whitney is still in line. We talk about shoes (her black-and-white striped Converse), the weather (insufferably hot and humid), and even politics (groan) before Whitney shows up.

"Hey, Maycee! I couldn't find you anywhere! And there were like, fifty people in line! So, are you ready to--" I wince, realizing that Whitney has just realized Kadi is sitting beside me. She laughs politely. "Um, who's that?" Whitney asks. I can tell that she is trying to be casual and nice, but she comes across as rude and stiff.
"Er, I'm Kadi," Kadi says sweetly, "Maycee and I just met."
I nod and smile.
"Oh. Okay... Well, Maycee and I need to go now," Whitney announces, shuffling nervously from foot to foot.
"Hold on a sec, Whit. Kadi's really nice," I say, still smiling.
"No thanks, Maycee. I really have to get home." Whitney is the one smiling nervously now. It's obvious to see that she thinks that some weirdo started talking to me and she needs to come save me.
"Give it a rest, Whitney," I finally blurt in annoyance. "Kadi is really nice and we're having a good time. And you and I both know that the mall just opened and we planned to stay here for two hours."
Whitney pulls back like I've just slapped her. She's always been a little melodramatic. Still, I soften.
"Okay, Whit, I'll meet you at the food court in five minutes," I say finally with a sigh.
"'Kay. Pizza?" Whitney asks, perking up.
"Sure."
"'Kay, see you in five." Whitney bounces away to the escalators.

I turn back to Kadi. "Sorry about that."
"Oh, no, it's okay," Kadi responds, smiling.
"Hey, since I have to be up there in five minutes, um, do you want to like... exchange phone numbers, or something?"
"Yeah, sure." Kadi smiles again, that big shining smile.
After she has my phone number and I have hers, we part, promising to call soon.

"Hey, Whit." I say when I find her table.
"Oh, hi, Maycee. So, what was up with the weird girl?" Whitney replies, setting two paper plates heaped with pizza down on the plastic table in the center of the food court.
"She wasn't weird." I say, suddenly defensive.
"Yes she was. She looked like she stepped out of a Manga comic."
"She can't help that."
"Yeah, well, Kate--"
"Kadi," I correct her.
Whitney sighs. "Kadi. Okay, well, Kadi shouldn't go around talking to strangers."
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. "Uh, actually Whit, I talked to her."
"You mean, my best friend, Maycee Morgan, the most shy and quiet girl I know, walked up to a random stranger and just started chatting itIt should be [i]her. up[/i]?" Whitney asks in disbelief.
I nod and smile, stuffing my face with Piccola Italia pizza.

Shopping bags clutched in our hands, we begin walking back to Whitney's house. It's a good thing that everything is so close together in our tiny town of Carnation, Texas. It's halfway between Daley, a relatively large town for our area, and Lilly Springs, a teeny Midwest town. It's hot all year round, except a few weeks in the middle of winter, a stereotypical Texas town. I look over at Whitney, her long auburn hair brushing over her back, picked up by the wind. She's always been betterYou need to add in looking here. than me; prettier, more athletic, taller. She's a green-eyed brunetteYou just said she had auburn hair in the previous sentence?, I'm a hazel-eyed blonde. We're completely different,no comma. and that's what brings us together. We push each other to try new things, which wetake out the we here and put it before end. It's proper grammar. most of the time end up liking. She's yin, I'm yang, but together, we're perfect harmony. We even each other out.
"Look at these shoes! Look at them!" Whitney squeals, peeking through the shoebox lid and leaning over so I can see too.
"They're... uh, red?" I say.
Whitney giggles. "Good job figuring that out!" She says, her tone sarcastic.
"Really very extremely red?" I offer.
"Hmm, better." Whitney decides.

When I finally get home after Whitney's mom drops me off, I am wiped. I brush my teeth and go straight to bed, but can't go to sleep. Despite my exhausted limbs, sleep just won't come. I think of Kadi and how she acted like she was hiding something. I pluck my cell phone from my pocket and select 'Contacts', and scroll down to Kadi's number. Look at it. It seems so normal.How is a phone number/name ever un-normal? This doesn't make any sort of sense. I turn off the phone and roll over. I'm just being paranoid.

Alright, you have a whole load of mistakes in here. None, are too major but mainly typo's and repetition. I would say that editing will fix most of your mistakes and by looking over and reading your work, this will help immensely and improve the standard of this piece so much. You had some little mix ups with comma;s but nothing too serious. Just remember when putting and into a sentence you don't need a comma before it. A pausa before saying and sounds un-professional and isn't proper grammar. You didn't have too many problems with this but I just thought I should point it out as it'll help you in future. Repetition. This is a quite a big problem for me throughout this story. At the beginning of your first paragraph, You used Maycee so much it was coming out of my ears. Now, you might ask "Well how can I not? She's my main charachter?" Either use she or her or something because the constant repetition of her name throughtout, even by saying Maycee's mom, drove me crazy. It felt like I was reading the same thing over when I really wasn't. To be honest, its not the worst problem to have I'm just quite picky when it comes down to it all. So I suggest you read over my corrections in red and then change them in your piece, it'll really tidy it up and improve.

Good luck with everything! I'll be back with a follow up in a tic.

Yours,
Kagi x

Alright, only me again!

So I'm going to run through all the general things now like plot, pace and charachters-that kind of thing.

You started off the whole thing brilliantly. Your description was phenominal and really interesting. When I read the first couple of lines I sort of said to myself; This will be good, I can tell. Just the way you spoke about little things and the words you used came across really well. I know just by these couple of lines that the whole story had been layed out and a lot of effort had gone into it. That was before I saw the grammar mistakes but I'm not going to go on about them in this review as I think i've done enough of that in the previous one.

The first thing that knocked me was your repetition. I was constantly reading Maycee did this, Maycee did that then Maycee tore open that, and what do you know then Maycee's mom did this. I was sick of the name Maycee after reading the second paragraph. This is what I call an irritating problem. It's not the worst problem on the list but the most annoying. For a reader, it's important you keep them interested and that doesn't mean having a super-active plot it can involve using a wide variety of different vocab and searching up new words that can make your writing more exciting and new. I didn't see any of this in your entire story. You had some grand words in there but you didn't really bother to go that extra mile and think of a different way of saying something if you wanted to re-stress a point. Let me explain;

Whitney holds the shoes up, admiring them. "'Kay, I'm going to go check out," Whitney states, now hugging the flats close.
"I'm going to look around a bit."
"Sure. I'll find you when I've checked out," Whitney says, already headed to the kiosk.

As it goes, we have very little dialogue from Whitney and I was disappointed to see in that space, of Whitneys two lines you used the same word.
Kay, I'm going to the check out and I'll find you when I've checked out.
Do you understand what I'm getting at? I was bored. I needed something to get me back to the stage where I felt really involved and excited like I did when I first began to read it. As I said, you started off well but began to lack detail and originality as the piece went on. It's nothing too major or hard to fix but it's deffiantly something worth going over and editing your entire story. That way we'll always have a new and fresh side to your story which really is quite good.

Next, I want to give you a little word of encouragment. I've read the reviews on this and one of them mentioned that they got a little confused between the time changes. I would have to stand up to you here I really enjoyed this time change. I wasn't expecting the death of Maycee you threw at us which I think left enough of a cliff hanger for anyone. I really felt for this little girl and wanted to replay it all again and help her jump up before the truck could take her life. The only thing that I picked out here was that, if you hadn't told us that Maycee was thirteen I and other readers wouldn't have known. The way you wrote made Maycee sound like a seventeen year old. She seemed to be doing odd jobs that a little kid wouldn't be doing-I mean we'd expect them to shopping or something no? I think, to improve this part you could give us more insight to Maycee's emotinos, her personality and a bit about her past. I'll give you a hint of what I mean;
*You don't have to use this in your story, I'm just helping you understand what I mean but feel free to use it if you so wish*

Still tugging at the stubborn magazine, Maycee grunted. This wasn't exactly how she'd planned her day. She'd had everything planned-Her and Lily would meet up at the mall, get their make up done at the salon and then they would unknowingly bump into the two boys from their class. It would have been perfect. A day at the movies with the two hottest guys in their year. However her mom had, had other plans like making her help around the house before leaving for their summer house. Maycee pouted before flinging the unobediant magazine to the ground and stepping down from the truck.

In that short space of time, we know a little about Maycee's past i.e Her friends,crushes. We know about how she likes to spend her time and that she's a typical girly teenager. Maybe this isn't the way you want Maycee to be, I'm not saying its the way she should be all I'm saying is that you need to let us in on her secrets so we can feel that real sadness when we come to terms with her death. Am I making any sense at all?

When we went into the next time zone with Whitney and everything, I got a little confused. I mean in your normal everyday circumstances nobody feels this weird connection to a random stranger to go over and start a chat, never mind but it to their business. You mentioned in your writing that she felt strange when looking at her-Why? You never gave us any idea on why or how she felt the urge to go over and become buddies in such a small space of time. Was it to add suspense for the next chapter? If that was your intention it didn't work, it just got me more confused. I didn't know why or how this could happen in reality.

As already mentioned in previous reviews, Telling but not showing seemed to be a bit of a problem in this piece aswell. I know! It seems like I'm being ultra horrible but I'm just trying to help you improve. I hope you're not mad, please think of me as being a critique until this review is done! So, yes. Imagery plays a big part in writing novels. What draws most people to books is because when reading, if they are fed the right information, they have the freedom to dream up their version of the charachter the author has created. Good author's give out lots of different sides to charchters so readers can dive into as many possibilites as possible hence, creating their own novel in their own way. When readers aren't given that opportunity, they are bluntly told facts, it isn't as much fun or put it this way, it's not what makes a best seller. To really get readers interested you need to show them everything. In every tiny detail, you need to help us see the picture in your head. Sometimes it easy to forgot that people don't know whats going on in your mind. Just remember that showing doesn't mean going overboard with description, it means using words that help us see. Like giving us a magnifying glass to help us really zoom in to that extra little something.

I was thinking about title options and thought of;
This; The murder of Maycee I know its boring but maybe ok for the minute?

All in all, I really did enjoy this ancd with a lot of tweaking this could be ultra amazing. The plot started of well and I would defiantly be interested in reading another chapter. So, get editing and let me know when your done. Even though I've pointed out a lot of mistakes, I'm still most defaintly a fan! And don't lose heart. I genuinely like this, so keep working hard and you'll get it. I know you can.

Good luck,
Kagi!

You say "I know it's not very good" which is obviously just you being modest because it was great. I like your writing style and you already have an intriguing story. I look forward to reading more.

A scream penetrates the palpable humidity on September third, at 4:40 P.M., on Highway B-67, leading from Daley, Texas to nowhere in particular, as the life of Maycee Morgan, and innocent 13-year-old girl's life is ended.

I love that line, it is wonderfully phrased. The following "too soon" may be a little unnecessary but whether or not you keep it in is up to you.

My legs walk in her direction. My mouth opens. Someone says in my voice, "Hi."

This part seemed peculier to me, obviously that is what you meant but the entire interaction between Maycee and Kadi was unconvincing. Two random people talking in the middle of the store is not a common occurrence, especially becoming friends this quickly. That being said, it can happen, you just need to give reason so that it seems plausible. Perhaps, they reach for the same pair of shoes - anything that can spark an interaction that isn't so unlikely.

do you want to like... exchange phone numbers, or something?"

Same with that, maybe they could be in the middle of a conversation that neither of them wants to end?

I'm just being paranoid

Lastly, what is she being paranoid about?

Overall, as I said, I really liked this. Besides the couple of things I pointed out it was perfect. Keep writing!