Cam's Entry for Jas' Prompt Contest

Spoiler

Prompts Used: Chinese Food, Ducks and Taylor Swift

The smoky interior of the restaurant clawed at my eyes. Idle chatter drifted from the many red-clothed tables, dotted with breaks of laughter and the occasional shout in Chinese from the kitchens. I played with the grease-soaked rice on my plate with my fork, watching the orangey liquid dance under the similarly orange light cast overhead.

"So....I hear you teenage girls are pretty fond of that...um.....Tyler Swift?"

I rolled my eyes. I swear, sometimes I think my dad hasn't listened to the radio since the 80's.

"It's fine Dad, we don't have to talk about what I like," It's hard not to be so frank when your dealing with my Dad. I decided to change the subject to spare us both from another painfully long awkward silence. "So how are the ducks?"

My dad immediately begins rambling about how one of his many mallard's feathers are falling out. My mom used to swear he could go for days describing obscene duck facts. She had told me he was happiest knee deep in some pond, and I've often wondered if that was the reason for the divorce.

A rumble rises from the cheap food-filled interiors of my stomach and churns in my throat. Even after 3 years, the memories were still as painful as ever.

I interrupted my Dad halfway through his speech, and asked to use the bathroom. He frowned, his brow creasing under the raven-black hair we both shared. "The food got to you huh? Always sucks to be sick, especially on your birthday, and especially on your sixteenth as well"

I offer a weak smile. My dad has a totally simple personality: he doesn't understand feeling unless clearly stated, as his feelings are as easy to read as a kindergarten book. Without saying anything, I know he's secretly hating himself because instead of having the "sweet sixteen" eagerly looked forward too by teens everywhere, I'm stuck in some crappy Chinese restaurant tucked neatly into the back streets of Edinburgh. I don't blame it for him though: I was never the type for any big party, what with having exactly two friends: My pet rat and my diary, but I admit...for once I wanted something..special.

I make it into the grime-encrusted bathroom. The walls are tiled with cracked slates, and graffiti covers the stalls. I stare at myself in my mirror; my long black hair, my knee-resembling nose, my hazel eyes shying behind huge squares of glass. I opened my mouth and sighed through my blue-braced teeth. I pulled up my dress, paying special attention to readjust the plastic "16!" pin that was driving into my chest.

Hey Ugly I kill the voice as soon as it whispers into my mind. I wish it would stop poking it's mug around my head, but the kids at my school made sure it kept a permanent residence. I sighed once more and lost myself in the only world I had left that wasn't sucky: my memories.

Cookies warm on my tongue, as my dad and my mom cuddle.....................white orbs appearing in the muck and majestic ducks taking wing overhead........................shouting rising from the floorboards, and tears staining my pillow......................a sleek grey car driving off with the only man I had ever loved........

I snapped my eyes open as another woman entered the bath room. She ran over to the toilet and vomited heavily, luckily I was through the door before it started spilling on the floor.

Hey Cam!

I've entered this contest too, so I thought I'd check out your entry to see what I'm up against

I like what you have here. It's a decent plot that tells the story of a girl with a rather crappy life, who dreams of things being better. One of the things I did notcie though, was how the tenses seemed to switch back and forth from past to present. It was distracting and made the story harder to read. I think this would be better written in past tense, so my corrections will be changing the present to past. As this is quite short, I'm going to save time and quote the whole thing. My changes will be in bold

The smoky interior of the restaurant clawed at my eyes. Idle chatter drifted from the many red-clothed tables, dotted with breaks of laughter and the occasional shout in Chinese from the kitchens. I played with the grease-soaked rice on my plate with my fork, watching the orangey liquid dance under the similarly orange light cast overhead.

"So....I hear you teenage girls are pretty fond of that...um.....Tyler Swift?" - This made me lol

I rolled my eyes. I swear, sometimes I think my dad hasn't listened to the radio since the 80's.

"It's fine Dad, we don't have to talk about what I like." It's hard not to be so frank when you're dealing with my Dad. I decided to change the subject to spare us both from another painfully long awkward silence. "So, how are the ducks?"

My dad immediately began rambling about how one of his many mallard's feathers were falling out. My mom used to swear he could go for days describing obscene duck facts. She had told me he was happiest knee deep in some pond, and I've often wondered if that was the reason for the divorce.

A rumble rises from the cheap food-filled interiors of my stomach and churns in my throat. Even after three years, the memories were still as painful as ever.

I interrupted my Dad halfway through his speech, and asked to use the bathroom. He frowned, his brow creasing under the raven-black hair we both shared. "The food got to you, huh? Always sucks to be sick, especially on your birthday, and especially on your sixteenth as well."

I offered a weak smile. My dad had a totally simple personality: he didn't understand feeling unless clearly stated, as his feelings were as easy to read as a kindergarten book. Without saying anything, I knew he's secretly hating himself because instead of having the "sweet sixteen" eagerly looked forward too by teens everywhere, I was stuck in some crappy Chinese restaurant tucked neatly into the back streets of Edinburgh. I didn't blame [nix - 'it for'] him though: I was never the type for any big party, what with having exactly two friends: My pet rat and my diary, but I admit...for once I wanted something..special.

I made it into the grime-encrusted bathroom. The walls were tiled with cracked slates, and graffiti covered the stalls. I stared at myself in my mirror; my long black hair, my knee-resembling nose, my hazel eyes shying behind huge squares of glass. I opened my mouth and sighed through my blue-braced teeth. I pulled up my dress, paying special attention to readjust the plastic "16!" pin that was driving into my chest.

Hey Ugly I killed the voice as soon as it whispered into my mind. I wished it would stop poking it's mug around my head, but the kids at my school made sure it kept a permanent residence. I sighed once more and lost myself in the only world I had left that wasn't sucky: my memories.

Cookies warm on my tongue, as my dad and my mom cuddle.....................white orbs appearing in the muck and majestic ducks taking wing overhead........................shouting rising from the floorboards, and tears staining my pillow......................a sleek grey car driving off with the only man I had ever loved........

I snapped my eyes open as another woman entered the bath room. She ran over to the toilet and vomited heavily. Luckily I was through the door before it started spilling on the floor.

I hope this helps, Cam, as I think this has potential

Good luck in the contest!

xDudettex

Good story. Some problems, but they've already been pointed out, so I don't have much to say. (This is just like my speech class. XD)

Aaannnddd I'm here for the same reason Dudette is. I hope you place.