I'm glad you like it, and thanks for the nit-picks!
The first shadows of dusk thickened outside my window, spider-webbing the silhouettes of tree branches across the lawn. I set down my pen for a moment to observe it.
I swung my head around to glare at Mrs. Watson, my advisory teacher. She sat placidly behind her cluttered mahogany desk, hands forming a steeple over piles of half-graded papers.
Plus her cares are so trite and contrived.
Under other circumstances, I would have been captivated -- I could write about it -- but not now, not in detention.I think there should be a "usually" after "I" and before "would." There's nothing wrong with it the way it is, but I think it would flow better if you changed it.
The bell rang then, razoring through a silence broken only by the steady patter of rain.This is awkward -- maybe you could say "...razoring through the steady, rain-pattered silence."
Mrs. Watson wasn't actually that bad -- for a teacher -- but now I would need to come up with an excuse for being late from school, because my parents would be just dying to know.Shouldn't the bold word be "knew?"
Everyone, including my friends, would be either hanging around the park or on their way home.Minor detail: hanging around the park? In the rain?!
"Share?" she offered, as if guessing my thoughts.I would delete "as if" because it's obvious that she's guessing her thoughts. You would only need to say "as if" if it was something that wasn't really possible, like "as if reading my mind" or "as if she knew my thoughts." But guessing is perfectly normal, and it's obvious that that's what Tanya's doing.
Rain sheeted down from wolf-grey clouds, peppering the street with tiny silver explosions as each one fell and broke in its turn.Saying "in its turn" is repetitive, because you said "each one" earlier, which emplies the same thing. :wink" I would delete "in its turn."
We walked in an uncharacteristic silence until the park, Tanya turned and said, "Well, see you tomorrow, I guess."This is awkward, maybe: "We walked in an uncharacteristic silence until WE REACHED the park, WHERE Tanya turned and said, "Well, see you tomorrow, I guess.""
Mrs. Watson called tonight. About a half hour ago, my mom had come tramping up the stairs, red-faced and angry.I'm not quite sure how to explain this, but I'll try my best and hope it makes sense. The part sounds as though it's a journal excerpt, being written a half hour after the incident... but the rest of the narrative isn't like that. For example, here's a "corrected" version: "Mrs. Watson had called earlier that night. My mom had come tramping up the stairs, red-faced and angry." I don't know if that made any sense or not.
Grounded for a month, no computer access, the usual.No YWS? *gasp* Lol.
A skeletal gate of trees laced over it, black and twisting without their leaves.This is kind of awkward... maybe try: "Trees, black and twisting without their leaves, formed a skeletal gate of trees laced over it, black and twisting without their leaves."
Screw homework, I thought as soon as I heard the door slam.You might want to clarify which door this is, because I thought at first that it was her bedroom door.
The house rang with an eerie silence as I waited for MSN to load. It was like a silent, gaping scream -- without sound, but somehow, you just hear it.I don't like the repetition of "silence/silent." Also, I think that should be "you just HEARD it." Past tense, rather than present.
heyy. What's up? you sound kinda sad > the (U) in your name...Huh? I don't use MSN, so I don't know what the (U) means...
Michael turned and muttered irritably to his friends before starting in, across the rain-slicked road.You used the word "irritably" to describe Michael's speech a few paragraphs ago. Find a different word. ^_~
A skeletal gate of trees laced over it,
"What?" he said irritably. All around him, his friends swirled to a stop: dancers pausing, limbs drifting to rest as their sides. I thought -- ridiculously -- that it looked almost... enigmatic, something to write about later. Like the way little coins of moonlight trickled in through the sparse canopy of leaves, the way the grass trembled ever so slightly: tiny brush-strokes of ink, a carpet under bare, calloused feet.