My Own Worst Enemy

I remember the day perfectly. I was sitting in my biology class, half listening to Mrs. Colons speak. Basically I was jsut writing song lyrics in the margin of my notes, Folsom Prison Blues, by Johnny Cash. I was writing my favorite part: "When i was just a baby my mama told me "Son, always be a good boy, don't ever play with guns," But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die". Just as i wrote that last word the principle, Mr. Green, walked into the classroom.
He said some words to Mrs. Colons then told me to speak with him in the hall. He waited patiently, draging a hankercheif over his sweaty forehead, as i rose from my seat, lowered my uniform skirt to the appropriate length and walked out to the hall.
"Danielle, as you know your mother's in surgery. I'm so sorry but she went into shock during the operation and pased away." I felt my heart stop and my eyes widen. i bliked and hoped my friends would run down the hall holding up a sign saying 'You've been Punk'd' and i could go see my mother.
The hope was in vain. Mr. Green put his hand on my shoulder being careful not to break any laws against touching a student. "I've been told by your neighbor to send you to your apartment building where he'll take you to the hospital. A bus is leaving in ten minutes so gather your stuff and head out. Again, Danielle, I'm sorry."
I didn't shed a tear, i just went into the classroom, picked up my books and looked into my best friends face. She could see something was wrong but i just walked away, not even saying goodbye.
I walked down the flights of stairs to my locker. I pressed my head to the cold metal and attempted to get my lock open. Three digits, that's all i needed to remember, it sounds easy but at that moment it was the most difficult thing. I tried ten times unsuccessfullly before getting aggravated, then i started hitting the locker. Around me i heard teachers scoff and close their doors. I was hitting and kicking the hunk of metal when the tears appeared. I finally gave up, pressing my face against the cool locker, lettting the tears fall when he came.
His name was Ethan, the exchange student from England. His accent, though, wasn't the onnly cute part about him. He had pale porclein skin, contrasting with his ebony hair, and stunning clear blue eyes. He wore a leather jacket over the uniform shirts all the time and was never in class, though he still got straight A's.
"Do you need help?" he asked. I just stopped aside and brushed my tears away. "What's your combination?"
"2-31-5" I replied sniffiling. He got it open on the first try. I murmured a thank-you and reached for my jacket.
"I don't believe we've been properly inroduced, I'm Ethan Broidy, and you are?" he asked holding out his hand.
"I'm Danielle White, my friends call me Dani." i replied weakly shaking his hand. I didnt give him a chance to ask another question, I just walked away without closing my locker. The tears returned as I heard him close my locker.
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Again this is only the first half, i will type up the rest at a later date please post your opinions.
Thanks!

I remember the day perfectly. I was sitting in my biology class, half listening to Mrs. Colons speak. Basically I was just writing song lyrics in the margin of my notes, Folsom Prison Blues, by Johnny Cash. I was writing my favorite part: "When i was just a baby my mama told me "Son, always be a good boy, don't ever play with guns," But I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die". Just as i wrote that last word the principle, Mr. Green, walked into the classroom.

(spacing helps me read)

He said some words to Mrs. Colons then told me to speak with him in the hall. He waited patiently, draging a handkerchief over his sweaty forehead, as I rose from my seat, [I] lowered my uniform skirt to the appropriate length and walked out to the hall. [ In the hall? Why would this be told in the hall? ]

"Danielle, as you know your mother's in surgery. I'm so sorry but she went into shock during the operation and pased away." I felt my heart stop and my eyes widen. I blinked and hoped my friends would run down the hall holding up a sign saying 'You've been Punk'd' and I could go see my mother.

The hope was in vain. Mr. Green put his hand on my shoulder being careful not to break any laws against touching a student. "I've been told by your neighbor to send you to your apartment building where he'll take you to the hospital. A bus is leaving in ten minutes so gather your stuff and head out. Again, Danielle, I'm sorry."
I didn't shed a tear, I just went into the classroom, picked up my books and looked into my best friends face. She could see something was wrong but I just walked away, not even saying goodbye.

More spacing

I walked down the flights of stairs to my locker. I pressed my head to the cold metal and attempted to get my lock open. Three digits, that's all I needed to remember, it sounds easy but at that moment it was the most difficult thing. I tried ten times unsuccessfullly before getting aggravated, then I started hitting the locker. Around me i heard teachers scoff and close their doors. I was hitting and kicking the hunk of metal when the tears appeared. I finally gave up, pressing my face against the cool locker, lettting the tears fall when he came.


His name was Ethan, the exchange student from England. His accent, though, wasn't the only cute part about him. He had pale porclein skin, contrasting [contrasting with his ebony hair doesn't really work. It's very awkwardly phrased and doesn't sound right, "which contrasted with his..." sounds marginally better but I'd think over the wording] with his ebony hair, and stunning clear blue eyes. He wore a leather jacket over the uniform shirts all the time and was never in class, though he still got straight A's.
"Do you need help?" he asked. I just stopped aside and brushed my tears away. "What's your combination?"
"2-31-5" I replied sniffiling. He got it open on the first try. I murmured a thank-you and reached for my jacket.
"I don't believe we've been properly inroduced, I'm Ethan Broidy, and you are?" he asked holding out his hand.
"I'm Danielle White, my friends call me Dani." I replied weakly shaking his hand. I didnt give him a chance to ask another question, I just walked away without closing my locker. The tears returned as I heard him close my locker.

Description

I don't get a feel at all for what you're trying to describe. You open with the words, "I remember that day perfectly". Fine and great; but I read what's been written and I'm thinking, this definitely is a perfect memory. You remember it perfectly but I have no idea what this classroom looks like.

What I thought at first, with such an opening line and then such a traumatic experience, was that their would be detailed in-depth description of this day that had been imprinted on this person's mind due to the fact that this had happened. But it's vague and ever so ambiguous.

So, my suggestion? Either scrap the first line and choose to describe it vaguely, intentionally, to demonstrate emotional anguish or rewrite your descriptions with some attention to detail so as to make the reader think, "WOW, your character remembers ALL this."

Now as for the actual description itself. It's not very gripping. Originality = Interest. Also, Unusualness = Interest (to varying degrees) so use that sort of description. Focus on stuff such as the colour of principles left eye (does it have a pretty brown flick?) or the smell of coffee on his breath. Anything individual.

Ideas to get you started:

When Mr. Green puts his hand on your shoulder what's sort of touch is that. When you walk away what does the floor look like, are the lights bright, what time of day is it, do you clatter along or pace slowly?

Or if you go for the lack of description so as to get across a point, try maybe mentioning loads of different object but not describing them. Locker, Lock, Picture, Mother. Something. Let there be a method behind you description, it's key to creating your effect. At the moment its not too interesting.

Main Character

I don't feel much for your main character. Losing a mother is terrible yes but you
don't really inspire feelings of sympathy for her.

The only way of expressing emotion in the form of art is by finding an "objective correlative"; in other words, a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be the formula of that particular emotion; such that when the external facts, which must terminate in sensory experience, are given, the emotion is immediately evoked. - T.S. Eliot

While T.S. Eliot later remarked he regretted the idea - I can't remember on what grounds, or if he exactly "regretted" it - It holds true in a form or other here. Where is the situation so on so on, here which is going to inspire in me feelings of pity or sadness of empathy?

I'd suggest maybe a recollection of something. A individual memory of a childhood experience with all that warm cosy happiness or something about the circumstance of her accident. There isn't anything here which interests me. It's like your trying to tell a deaf person about your story. When writing you need to use effective forms to communicate what you want to say.

Also I don't get much feel for her appearance or actual personality (Her reaction to this death is believable but you don't give much to go on about her, what she's really like?).

While that may be used for effect, I'd suggest an elaboration upon her appearance, or not mention anything about her at all (if you would prefer for her to be that Everyman)

Setting

School fine, classroom fine. But I don't see it - I mentioned this back in Description.

Now, the importance of setting. If you decide that you choose school due to the fact that it expresses something - a remoteness, or so it can enable the moment with Ethan or Mr. Green but have a reason for it.

Dialogue

Okay, the Mr Green dialogue seems implausible, I'll let it go though - I've never been in this sort of situation before or known anyone who has told me about this sort of situation. But I don't feel you'd just be told to take a hike or be told in the hallway - maybe move it to an office (with a counsellor?)

The Ethan dialogue. Feels like filler to me. Does it mean anything? Sure it shows the state of mind (needing help with you locker) but it's rather pointless. We have a small description of Ethan a small amount of inconsequential talk and then you leave.

Minor Character

Mr. Green needs to be elaborated upon if you choose to go with the extremely descriptive story.

I'll comment more on Ethan when the next part comes. At the moment he's useless - or seems to be - but I'm sure there is some more important part for him to play.

Themes


This is a bit too short too comment upon a theme - nothing has too much substance. It could be Pain caused by loss, it could just as well be the stupidity of death (if the mother is killed in a meaningless way). I think it will all become more concrete once you improve upon your description and have a better direction. Always think about direction.

So, that's about all I have to offer. This needs improvement. At the moment it's simply a framework which doesn't hold too much of promise. The general idea has possibilities given elaboration. But I doubt very much that you've thought about how to elaborate it and make it original and interesting. There are many different types of these stories but you need some sort of a hook. Does the main character have schizophrenia, is the mother not really dead etc. etc. I might be commenting too early given I've only seen a shred of what would make a story so we'll see how it goes.

PM me if you want elaboration, or if I was unclear anywhere.

Well my birth name is Daniel White (before I got it hyphenated recently) so you can imagine my surprise at reading the main character's name.

Anyway, as much as I love to say good things about other people's writing, I just couldn't connect here. The dialogue between characters seems, as I believe someone has already said, like filler mostly, as does the Johnny Cash lyrics. It also does seem unrealistic that she would simply be fetched out of class and sent on her own down the hallway to get stuff from her locker. And I can't help feeling Ms. Colons is a rather unfortunate name. Still, this is only the first half so I'll have to see whether the sceond half improves on this rather dramatic opening.

Wow...
Other than the mistakes Mad metioned this was really good!
Great job!

~Lulu

Hey guys,
I rewrote this and there's a revised version somewhere on the forum. If you could read that it would be great.
Thanks!
-Domenique